Jason Sia in Review

Jason Sia in Review

Jason Sia, piano
Weill Recital Hall at Carnegie Hall, New York, NY
Thursday, June 21, 2018

 

In the movie business, summertime is blockbuster time, so why should it be any different in the recital business? California-based pianist Jason Sia evidently thinks so, as he programmed a string of famous warhorses, with a few oddly sophisticated fellows thrown in. A small turnout listened intently. The results were decidedly mixed for this reviewer.

Let me begin with Mr. Sia’s strengths: he has a beautiful piano tone (not so easy to achieve), and a generally lyrical sense of line that is very fluid. On the flip side: he didn’t breathe, everything was rushed, he lacked a true technical command of these fiendishly difficult musical icons, he overpedaled, he had memory problems (it’s okay to use the score!), he had a curiously uncomfortable stage presence, he lacked charisma, he seemed curiously uninvolved most of the time, and he was reluctant to resolve dissonance into consonance, one of the important hallmarks of musicality. Perhaps nerves got the better of him.

Lest I seem too cranky, let me single out the pleasing moments from the program, and there were some! The Rachmaninoff/Schultz transcription of the 18th variation from Rhapsody on a Theme by Paganini, Debussy’s Rêverie (despite a thumping pedal foot), and the Gershwin/Wild song-etudes (The Man I Love, Embraceable You, Summertime) were all played with sensitivity and style, and Clair de lune had good atmosphere, if lacking a bit in accuracy. The Schubert/Liszt Ave Maria had excellent voicing amid the millions of notes, the Wagner/Liszt Liebestod was played orchestrally rather than vocally, which one could make a case for, and  Debussy’s L’Isle joyeuse had moments of great sensitivity and color, though again, technical control was shaky.

Elsewhere, there were senseless amputations of Beethoven’s Sonata Op. 27, No. 2 (sloppy, dynamically incorrect, and the second movement  omitted),  the Chopin Heroic Polonaise (just shorten the difficult left-hand octave section- maybe no one will notice), and the iconic Gershwin Rhapsody in Blue (begun in the middle at the lyrical theme, and played sloppily to its conclusion). This shows a strange lapse in taste, which was contradicted by Mr. Sia’s elegant playing from time to time. Ravel’s Ondine from Gaspard de la nuit, a frightening encyclopedia of nasty technical things, was mostly improvised, though I sensed that Mr. Sia’s spirit was in the right place. Liszt’s famous Hungarian Rhapsody No. 2 was spirited but slapdash.

Mr. Sia’s biography states a commitment to avant-garde music. He even won three awards for it, so I wondered why there wasn’t any on his program. I don’t wish to discourage Mr. Sia, I’m sure he brings great enjoyment to his followers, but when programming the “greatest hits” of the instrument, it is wise to be truly relaxed, carefree, and able to execute them accurately, as well as with individuality.

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by Frank Daykin  for New York Concert Review; New York, NY
The Alexander and Buono Foundation Presents Thomas Nickell and the Oistrakh Symphony of Chicago in Review

The Alexander and Buono Foundation Presents Thomas Nickell and the Oistrakh Symphony of Chicago in Review

Thomas Nickell, piano; The Oistrakh Symphony of Chicago, Mina Zikri, Conductor
Jeff Glor, Anchor, CBS Evening News, Honorary Chair and Host
Zankel Hall at Carnegie Hall, New York, NY
June 3, 2018

 

This past Sunday at Carnegie Hall brought some concert “firsts” for this reviewer (not counting the challenges of parades, protests, and resultant chaos throughout Manhattan, unfortunately not firsts).

It was this listener’s first time hearing a touring orchestra from Chicago that was not the Chicago Symphony Orchestra but rather the Oistrakh Symphony of Chicago, named, one assumes, after the great violinist David Oistrakh, an auspicious homage indeed. Under the leadership of excellent conductor Mina Zikri, this orchestra (founded in 2005 of largely young professionals) proved itself to be a commendable ensemble – undoubtedly a welcome addition to the “Windy City” and beyond.

It was also this listener’s first time hearing promising young pianist and composer, Thomas Nickell, age nineteen, in a program that included, among other works, Beethoven’s Piano Concerto No. 2, Op. 19, and Totentanz of Franz Liszt, both works that often get overlooked in favor of their more popular relatives (Beethoven’s Concertos 1,3, 4, and 5, and Liszt’s Concertos 1 and 2). It was a pleasure to see the two being programmed, and it was a pleasure to discover a young musician who is set apart in many ways from his peers.

The concert opened, rather unusually, with just the first movement, the Allegro con brio, of Beethoven’s Symphony No. 3 (the “Eroica”). It was odd to hear this portion of a masterpiece almost relegated to the role of an overture, but in terms of playing, aside from the need for more power in the lower strings, what one heard was excellent, played with regal spirit. Beethoven devotees may be disappointed by such excerpting, this listener included, but there seemed to be other priorities for the concert, particularly the featuring of Mr. Nickell, who followed with Beethoven’s Piano Concerto No. 2.

Mr. Nickell, who has concertized actively for several years, is currently studying at the Mannes College of Music where he is a double major in piano and composition. He has many admirable qualities as a performer, including an engaging and professional stage presence, overall technical mastery, the ability to respond with individuality to a musical score, and the ability to express that response with conviction. These are no small advantages.

Mr. Nickell also possesses a quality one finds endemic to composer-pianists, namely a pronounced tendency to favor the “big picture” over local detail – an asset and a potential liability all at once. He clearly grasps the overall architecture of what he plays, with none of the myopia of the mere technician, thankfully, but with such an aerial view that some finer elements are occasionally obscured. In his Beethoven, there were harmonies warranting extra intensity that were glossed over, thus losing expressiveness, as well as melodic phrases that needed more time for details to be articulated and to project the music’s full spirit and character. Perhaps the excitement of the occasion led to these issues, or perhaps they were viewed as pesky “details” – though one uses quotation marks, because the “details” in great music can be so important. In any case a slightly slower tempo in the first movement might have benefited the interpretation while probably enhancing the clarity in some of the left-hand passagework as well.

The above is not to say that Mr. Nickell lacks technical facility – he does not, and at times he displayed the light and fleet finger-work that reminded one of some of Glenn Gould’s recordings – but it struck this listener that Mr. Nickel, as a composer, may be so immersed in his own musical sound world that it may be hard to commit himself fully to the world of another composer, including historical milieu, philosophy, style, and notation (including the dynamics, which tended to need more attention in this performance). This speculation seemed supported by Mr. Nickell’s cadenza, which did not emerge as enhancing Beethoven’s concerto in this listener’s opinion. Though a cadenza’s traditional role does involve spotlighting the soloist, it should also serve the body of the work and not dissipate or dilute the momentum and tension of the movement, as it seemed to here.

Elsewhere, where Mr. Nickell took time, he was well rewarded. A highlight of his Beethoven, and perhaps the entire concert, was the hallowed Adagio movement. Mr. Nickell is unafraid of extremes of softness and slowness, and he savors the heart-stopping lulls more than many players. Thus, where Beethoven marked con gran espressione, Mr. Nickell maximized the moment, creating such a spell of quietude that one found oneself glowering at a neighboring audience member for breathing too loudly. The Rondo movement closed with plenty of sparkle, so much so that one wondered whether there had simply been a need to warm up during the first movement.

After intermission, the program became a virtual mini-recital for the pianist alone, without orchestra. Orchestra members (alas – having traveled a significant distance to play!) simply waited offstage, while Mr. Nickell played an eclectic variety of works. Again, the raison d’être for the program seems to have been to showcase Mr. Nickel. We heard him in works by Henry Cowell, Frédéric Chopin, and also by Thomas Nickell himself (with Philip Glass Etude No. 2 on the printed program but canceled). All of that came before the orchestra rejoined him for Totentanz, making for quite a demanding afternoon.

Two of Cowell’s best-known works opened the second half, The Tides of Manaunaun, with its growling bass forearm clusters, and Aeolian Harp, with its ethereal harmonies and glissandi on the strings inside the piano. It will be interesting to see whether Mr. Nickell will choose a niche (not that one must necessarily choose), but this listener’s guess is that he will fare the best with repertoire of the twentieth and twenty-first centuries. He played the Cowell pair sensitively and with dedication, without pause. He then launched into Chopin’s Polonaise in F-sharp minor, Op. 44, arguably one of Chopin’s more difficult works interpretively. Again, one heard artistry with a broad brushstroke and some ensuing messiness, but the most that one really wants to suggest to such a maverick is slowing down to smell some of the roses (and not just in the slow movements as many extremists do).

Mr. Nickell’s own composition, Innisfree, followed. A piano transcription of a song he composed, it revealed the influence of Cowell and possibly Crumb in its extended techniques, all while expressing a mood of meditation and mystery that seems to reflect the beginnings of his own individual style. One eagerly awaits hearing his future compositions.

Totentanz concluded the concert with an ease that belied its difficulty. Effective emphasis of rests and pauses maximized the ponderous qualities, but there was room for more biting pianistic brilliance. One wants to be spellbound by this piece, but the drama wasn’t quite full force. What was missing was a sense of the terror of the Dies Irae (or “Day of Wrath” in Latin – oddly misspelled in the program notes as “Das Irie”).

Will there be time for this pianist to practice sufficiently to make such Romantic virtuoso works truly scorching, while also inhabiting Beethoven’s world, devouring Cowell and Glass, and creating his own music? Time will tell, but in this year of remembering Leonard Bernstein, the quintessential multitasker, one should rule out nothing.

There are also many years ahead to fine-tune Mr. Nickell’s considerable gifts. Though there is no mention in his biography of his teachers at Mannes (an unusual thing, given his age), it is possible, in this current burst of career activity, that Mr. Nickell’s presenters consider that he has transcended such student matters. Hopefully such is not the case, as there is a lifetime of learning involved in maturing as a musician. Just as a single musical work can benefit from a slow burn, so can a musician’s evolution.

Among many elements in his favor, Mr. Nickell has a remarkably strong support base, and it includes prominently Barry Alexander (of the presenting Alexander and Buono Foundation), who gave the elegant spoken introductions. Mr. Nickell also had many fans in his audience, and they applauded him heartily, bringing him back to the stage for repeated bows. One looks forward to following the further development of this young artist.

 

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by Rorianne Schrade  for New York Concert Review; New York, NY
Distinguished Concerts International New York (DCINY) presents The Sacred and Profane: Carmina Burana in Review

Distinguished Concerts International New York (DCINY) presents The Sacred and Profane: Carmina Burana in Review

William C. Powell, Guest Conductor
Rosephanye Powell, DCINY Composer-in-Residence, Narrator, and Soloist
Distinguished Concerts Orchestra; Distinguished Concerts Singers International
Jonathan Griffith, DCINY Artistic Director and Principal Conductor
Distinguished Concerts Orchestra; Distinguished Concerts Singers International
Penelope Shumate, soprano; Dillon McCartney, tenor; Keith Harris, baritone
David Geffen Hall at Lincoln Center, New York, NY
May 28, 2018

 

I originally expected to have one experience on Monday at this DCINY concert, but wound up having quite another—this is good. It is hard to upstage the eternal crowd-pleaser that is Orff’s Carmina Burana, whose first chorus is used to sell everything from cars to post-apocalyptic scenarios, but Rosephanye Powell’s Gospel Trinity came very close. The Orff was also given a thrilling read.

Rosephanye Powell turned David Geffen Hall into a gospel church service with the New York premiere of her Gospel Trinity, less an explanation of than a physical celebration of the “three incarnated in the Godhead,” the traditional doctrine not only of Catholic theology but some Protestant ones as well.

Perhaps from a compositional standpoint, the musical content of the Gospel Trinity is somewhat simplistic. It is very approachable, borrowing from extant hymns and standard gospel gestures, but in the hands of Ms. Powell, who also served as narrator and stunning soloist, the Holy Spirit inhabited the hall, and the music led to an experience beyond itself.

Ms. Powell’s voice ranged from baritone low notes to stratospheric high notes and every color in between, all of which were produced with beauty and fervent energy. The massed choirs were conducted with swinging enthusiasm by her husband William C. Powell. The choral body swayed freely, and clapping and other responses were perfect. The entire score was presented from memory, and it contains a great deal of improvisatory spirit. The two Powells exhorted the audience to clap and testify, and the spiritual frenzy mounted—a great manifestation of faith.

In his excellent program note for the Orff, Joseph Kahn states: “If there were a contest for the composer with the most despicable character, Carl Orff would definitely make the finals.” Orff’s own daughter said: “He did not really love people; if anything, he despised people unless they could be useful to him.” Hitler’s minions lionized him, and he did nothing to assist friends who were being rounded up. Eventually, he was “de-Nazified,” officially classified as “gray acceptable” (an upgrade), and he did devise a system of musical instruments in use to this day for the development of early-childhood musical potential. Ultimately, one separates the man from his artistic production.

Under Artistic Director and Principal Conductor Jonathan Griffith, the enormous assembled forces navigated this score with complete assurance, even ease, making all its rhythmic shifts and faux-primitivism seem utterly natural. The three soloists were all top-of-the-line. Baritone Keith Harris had the most to do, and he colored his sections with just the right amount of acting, especially in the bibulous tavern scene. The baritone part is often cruelly high, but he was completely in control. Penelope Shumate, who I’ve reviewed previously in these pages, was radiant in her high-flying Dulcissime, a high D sounded nowhere near the top of her capability. She also gave a charming “look,” full of implicit pleasure, to concertmaster Jorge Ávila as he performed the metric shifts of the Tanz. Her In trutina had a lovely hushed eroticism, virtually banishing memories of Streisand, who recorded it in the 1970s on Classical Barbra in a kind of tranquilized perfection. The tenor, Dillon McCartney, has only one solo, but what a doozy it is! The Roast Swan (Olim lacus colueram) scene, in which the poor bird recounts its own cooking, lies at the outer-space regions of high notes, and once again, Mr. McCartney sounded born to sing it.

The chorus work was world-class, from whispered threats to full-glory exultation, with clear diction in all the ancient languages represented. All the wind and percussion playing in the huge pick-up orchestra was excellent. I have mentioned previously that I think it’s a shame for these players not to be credited. I only mention concertmaster Ávila because I happen to know his name.

Some of the content of these scabrous medieval doodlings is quite “adult,” and I wondered how (or if) the children and other younger singers were educated about what was going on. I guess I’m giving away my age, for today’s young people see and experience so much more than we did when I was young, including the thrill of a major New York concert.

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by Frank Daykin  for New York Concert Review; New York, NY
Huizi Zhang Presents Hreizleriana in Review

Huizi Zhang Presents Hreizleriana in Review

Huizi Zhang, piano and toy piano
Marc A. Scorca Hall, The National Opera Center,
New York, NY
May 26, 2018

 

The National Opera Center was the setting this weekend for a fascinating program by excellent young pianist, Huizi Zhang (www.huizizhang.com). Five recently composed works by four young composers with whom I’m not familiar – including three premieres – preceded a performance of the deservedly familiar Kreisleriana, Op. 16, one of Robert Schumann’s great masterpieces. It was a thoroughly stimulating evening, pairing discovery with rediscovery.

The program’s title Hreizleriana, and its subtitle, “…a journey into madness and music,” made reference to two works of art, the E. T. A Hoffmann novel, Kreisleriana, about a mad genius conductor named Kreisler, and Kreisleriana, Schumann’s magnificent piano work which the Kreisler character inspired, heard as this program’s finale. Ms. Zhang’s program subtitle was fitting for a concert that would have touches of madness throughout (beyond those of the Schumann’s own mercurial qualities). As for Ms. Zhang’s spelling of Kreisleriana as Hreizleriana, one can only guess that it was a way of including her own initials – a playful touch which Schumann, cryptogram devotee, might have appreciated.

Beyond the interesting program concept, the execution is naturally always paramount, and Ms. Zhang’s playing was nearly uncriticizable. She conveyed a firm belief in each piece, honoring the composers with her thoroughness and interpreting their music with vibrancy and sensitivity. Her Schumann was exemplary, capturing all the fluctuations of Schumann’s widely contrasting moods and with rarely a glitch. With such a pillar of the standard repertoire beautifully in hand, Ms. Zhang could build many similar musical journeys “into madness” using this Schumann as the foundation and finale. Though her emotional projection was never “over the top” into the realm of madness, itself, she demonstrated expert control as the vehicle for the madness of others.

Four Movements for Solo Piano (2016) by Jacob Wilkinson (www.jwiki222.wixsite.com/jacobwilkinson) opened the program. Born in 1997, Mr. Wilkinson was the youngest of the composers presented. His four movements, entitled Prelude, Incantation, Lullaby, and Circle Dance, offered expressive and intelligently crafted writing, idiomatically written for the piano. Some of it sounded like a Scriabin-inspired improvisation (with hints of Messiaen), though the last movement, with its short, repeated dance motives, brought to mind the brilliance of Ginastera (also Villa-Lobos, a thought possibly triggered by its name, Circle Dance). Invoking names of famous composers, by the way, is not an implication that this music is derivative, but rather a shortcut in characterizing what can take too long to describe; that said, if one were to be derivative, one could do much worse than to have such composers as models! As for the Scriabin similarity, there are similarly craggy and urgent impulses felt in the middle and late work of the Russian master, sometimes attributed to encroaching madness – again fitting right in with Ms. Zhang’s theme. In sum, Mr. Wilkinson is a promising young artist, and he is fortunate to have attracted the advocacy of such a fine pianist as Ms. Zhang.

Following came Six Preludes for Piano (2013) by Colombian-born Fabian Beltran (www.fabianbeltranmusic.com). These were direct, communicative pieces showing a strong ability to capture varied emotions in fluent and vivid pianistic writing. The nocturne-like movement Grave e dolente was particularly captivating in its lyricism, and the set was rounded out with brilliant, though occasionally strident, performances of the two final movements, Vivace and Con brio. Brash major triads concluded the set rather incongruously after some of the tonal complexity which had preceded, and one could only guess that they were meant to be summarily facetious. As the comments from the pianist onstage were not quite decipherable, one missed that extra bit of guidance that might have informed the experience – one could make out from the introduction that these pieces were composed each in a single night during a period of emotional instability, but not much more. Luckily, the work stood on its own merits. It had wide dramatic range, and on a madness-and-music-themed program, it was another well-placed work. One eagerly awaits hearing more from this talented composer.

What followed was Passage 2 (2018, premiere), by Singaporean composer, Gu Wei (www.guweimusic.com). The first of two works by Mr. Wei (the second coming after intermission), it employed gentle repeated figures to create a mesmerizing quasi-minimalist effect which initially brought to mind some music that is carelessly dubbed “New Age”; it did so, however, in a manner that this listener (not a New Age fan) found quite appealing. Especially intriguing was the way isolated tones emerged from the texture of repeated figures according to shifting metric placement, forming additional layers and textures. One could visualize a warp and weft subtly forming within the music, creating additional patterns between them. As with the other pieces (except, of course, the Schumann, played from memory), Ms. Zhang handled it all capably reading from the score.

In marked contrast to Passage 2 came Mr. Wei’s other featured work, Madman’s Diary for toy piano (2018, premiere). This toy piano work is a musical setting of seven selections from an allegory entitled Madman’s Diary (1918) by Chinese writer Lu Xun. Full of nightmarish references to cannibalism, the text provided the quintessential springboard for musical madness, with the eerie childlike sounds of a toy piano evoking alternately the sneakiness, obsessiveness, indecision, stealth, and panic of Lu Xun’s world in which one must eat or be eaten. Especially effective was the use of nursery rhyme-like symmetry of phrase, which, when interrupted towards the end, expressed perfectly the text’s last line, “save the children.” Ms. Zhang delivered this frightening work superbly and is to be commended for making the tiny toy piano so expressive, especially right before taking command of the house Yamaha grand for Schumann’s Kreisleriana – a striking juxtaposition indeed!

Before all this, though, to close the first half, one heard music by Ramteen Sazegari (www.ramteensazegari.com), in particular a piece entitled 20, 30 pg. for prepared piano and electronics. Some of the prefatory remarks were a bit muffled, but, in any case, one is uncertain how the title 20,30 pg. relates to what one heard. We were told something about a reference to purgatory (the possible origin of the “pg” part?), but we were largely in the dark. This issue will be addressed later.

Meanwhile, any misgivings about hearing electronic music evoking purgatory were quickly dispelled by what turned out to be an engaging piece. There was a fascinating blend of live piano sonorities with recorded ones, and one’s imagination was taken on an interesting ride. One audience member afterwards did express an aversion to some overwhelmingly loud bass tones in the electronic part, but this reviewer would have to argue that the suggested subject matter probably called for it. It was, again, a welcome addition to the program’s overarching theme of madness. In a way one couldn’t help musing what a great catchall this theme of madness could be for works defying specific interpretation, but certainly there were more specifics at play in Ms. Zhang’s conception.

This reviewer’s chief quibble for the evening was that, especially with new music, there needs to be better extra-musical communication to an audience, both from the composer and from the performer. Puzzles and hidden meanings can be a delight with some hints, but there is something off-putting about titles and prefaces that are unhelpful or worse. Having sat for decades through literally thousands of performances of compositions given such titles as Obfuscations 87.4 and the like, this reviewer can safely say that such cryptic cleverness (if it is that) gets old fast, becoming annoying rather than fascinating. Do musicians want to bring audiences closer to their musical hearts and minds or drive them away? And would the same musicians return to a restaurant serving food that had to be located via scavenger hunt, or on tables five feet above reach? Such presentation would be considered contemptuous.

Meanwhile, Ms. Zhang, quite soft-spoken, chose to read her introductions in haste from a small paper which drew her voice downwards. If projection is an issue, then one needs to use a microphone, to speak from the heart, to slow down, or to distribute printed program notes. Granted, it may take a listener some effort and repeated hearings to delve deeply into a masterpiece, but should it take extraordinary mental leaps to grasp even the basics of compositional intent during a first hearing? This musician says no. Note to composers: create some program notes that communicate – they will not have a “spoiler” effect! You do not need to present a theoretical analysis or a treatise on the philosophy behind it – just a bit of guidance for the ear and mind. Remember also that there may be lay people present.

If the above seems to be a bit of a rant, this reviewer has simply seen too much of this problem. Musicians, perhaps because they work long hours in solitude or in academia, are too often simply oblivious to the world that will hear them, as if they don’t even care whether an audience comes. On that note, despite the originality and appeal of Ms. Zhang’s program, Saturday’s audience amounted to fewer than twenty people, including the composers themselves and this reviewer and a guest. Surely there could have been more of an effort to reach out to prospective listeners who probably could have enjoyed it.

One learned after this recital that Ms. Zhang will be performing September 29, 2018 in Weill Hall at Carnegie Hall (Carnegie Hall calendar 9/29/2018). No program is listed yet at the Carnegie website, but one hopes it will be largely the same, by then just a bit riper. It should be a rewarding evening if just two pieces of advice are followed. To Ms. Zhang and company: do more reaching out, both before the concert and during! To music-lovers, art-lovers, and thinkers everywhere: go hear Huizi Zhang in September – she is an outstanding pianist with a gift for interesting programming.

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by Rorianne Schrade  for New York Concert Review; New York, NY
Distinguished Concerts International New York (DCINY) presents Vocal Colors in Review

Distinguished Concerts International New York (DCINY) presents Vocal Colors in Review

Distinguished Concerts Singers International
J. Reese Norris, Eric Barnum, Conductors
Jennifer Rushton, Kristen Kemp, Pianists
Richmond Choral Society and The Arcadian Chorale
Marina Alexander, Director, Ahram Lee, Pianist
Stern Auditorium at Carnegie Hall, New York, NY
May 25, 2018

 

While thousands of New Yorkers were busy fleeing the city for the Memorial Day weekend, hundreds of dedicated choristers, their conductors, families, and friends were flocking toward Carnegie Hall, for the fourth annual Vocal Colors presentation by DCINY (I have reviewed them previously in these pages- Vocal Colors 2017 & Vocal Colors 2016). As Lisa Young’s thulele mama ya says: “Don’t worry, Mama.” Well, mamas will probably always worry, but reviewers needn’t worry about the quality of these events. Once again, the dedication, cooperation, communal spirit, and positive message of choral music showed all its energy.

 

The program was divided into three sections, one before intermission and two after. The first section had an all-female choir, conducted by the esteemed J. Reese Norris, of whose compositions a generous helping was presented. All the selections were performed from memory, an outstanding accomplishment in itself. If there was a sort of sameness to the sound due to the tessitura of young women’s voices, it was relieved by strategically placed (uncredited) instrumental obbligati: light percussion, guitar, cello, with the piano as base. The linking of hands near the end of Jacob Narverud’s Sisi ni moja (We are one) provided a powerful counterpoint to its message, especially in an age becoming inured to mass shootings. Norris’ own Paper Crane (Heiwa), inspired by Hiroshima, had his signature powerful “zoom” ending. His wedding present for his own wife, We Sing of Love, using parts of the Song of Solomon, was lovely. All the works were beautifully prepared and executed.

 

After intermission, another leader in American choral music, Eric Barnum, conducted his group in his own contemplative compositions: Afternoon on a Hill (Millay), and A Thousand Red Birds (poems by Oakes, Bode, and Porter), where soloist Nathan Krueger’s contribution to In the Silence was perfect, as the observer of snowfall. Mr. Barnum concluded with two works he feels belong together as aspects of the same thing: Evensong and Den blomsterid nu kommer (The time of blossom now comes), keen observations of the natural world, captured in music.

 

Then came conductor Marina Alexander with her own groups: The Arcadian Chorale (NJ) and Richmond Choral Society (Staten Island). After a brief, energetic Norwegian Alleluia by Kim André Arnesen, a real neglected masterpiece was given, by a Swedish composer whose work was previously unknown to me (shame on me!): Otto Olsson, who died in 1964. His Te Deum was composed in 1906. What a glorious, powerful setting of this hymn of praise! It certainly deserves to be heard every bit as much as the Berlioz, Verdi, and Bruckner settings. Transcendent beauty, indeed.

 

Well done, colorful vocalists!

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by Frank Daykin  for New York Concert Review; New York, NY
Noree Chamber Soloists NYC Concert Series Season Finale in Review

Noree Chamber Soloists NYC Concert Series Season Finale in Review

Yoon Lee, Yi Qun Xu, artistic directors
Stella Chen, Francesca dePasquale, Bela Horvath, violins; Caeli Smith, viola; Yi Qun Xu, cello; Yoon Lee, piano
Guest Artists: Catherine Cho, violin; Roger Tapping, viola; James Kim, cello
Church of the Blessed Sacrament, New York, NY
May 24, 2018

 

The Noree Chamber Soloists (www.noree.org), with special guest artists Catherine Cho, Roger Tapping, and James Kim lending their talents, concluded their NYC Concert Series season on May 24, 2018 with a program of Beethoven, Fauré, and Mendelssohn at the Church of the Blessed Sacrament. This program was originally scheduled for September of last year but had had to be re-scheduled. The unforeseen bonus of this delay was that the Church of the Blessed Sacrament meanwhile received a beautiful new Steinway grand piano (less than a month ago).

The well-written and informative program notes written by Jung-Min Mina Lee, Noree Chamber Soloists’ resident musicologist, made an immediately favorable impression on this reviewer. It should also be mentioned that in a previous review in this journal (The Viola Sings- Noree Chamber Soloists), the lack of printed notes had been noted, so the willingness to address this issue, which some might consider a reviewer’s fussiness, was also appreciated. Biographies of all the artists were included as well.

I will admit to having some trepidation about the acoustics of this venue, but the wise placement of the players in the middle of the hall, with the audience seated close to them, proved to be effective in keeping the sound “local”.

Pianist Yoon Lee and violinist Catherine Cho opened the concert with Beethoven’s Violin Sonata No. 3 in E-flat major, Op.12, No. 3. This early work reflects Beethoven’s most optimistic self. It is brimming with ebullience in the outer movements and lyrical beauty in the central slow movement. Even though this is a violin sonata, with a more or less equal partnership between the players, Beethoven gives the pianist the lion’s share of the difficulties – this is not at all to suggest that the violinist has a “walk in the park” (nothing could be further from the truth) – just to say that the pianist for this work deserves special recognition. Ms. Lee was equal to Beethoven’s virtuosic demands while never overpowering Ms. Cho, even though the piano was on the full stick. Ms. Cho projected a rich, vibrant tone, while tackling the technical challenges with an assured ease. It was a pleasure to witness Ms. Cho’s and Ms. Lee’s rapport. The audience was thrilled by their performance, with many shouts of Bravo! It is always heartening to this listener to witness such an enthusiastic response to a fine performance.

Fauré’s Piano Quartet No. 2 in G minor, Op. 45 followed the Beethoven. Violinist Francesca dePasquale, violist Roger Tapping, and cellist Yi Qun Xu, joined Ms. Lee. While I was impressed with the passionate playing of the opening movement, the frenetic energy of the perpetuum mobile second movement, and the “all-in” approach to the driving relentlessness of the finale, it was the third movement Adagio that set this performance apart. Of this movement, Fauré himself said he was inspired by the memory of evening bells from his childhood in the village of Cadirac. The audience listened with rapt attention as the ensemble played this “eerie reverie” (Fauré ‘s words) with exquisite sensitivity.

After Intermission, violinists Catherine Cho, Stella Chen, Francesca dePasquale, Bela Horvath, violists Caeli Smith and Roger Tapping, and cellists James Kim and Yi Qun Xu joined forces for Mendelssohn’s Octet in E-flat major, Op. 20. Written when Mendelssohn was sixteen as a birthday gift for his violin teacher Eduard Ritz (pity the other gift givers who had to follow that!), the Octet is, as stated in the program notes, “a dazzling display of individuality and imagination not commonly matched with a sixteen-year-old.” One could easily add “or one of any age!” It is no mean feat even for ensembles who have played together extensively to successfully navigate not only the technical challenges, but the ensemble ones as well, so I was adopting a “wait-and-see” outlook. Happily, these players meshed together wonderfully. Balance and intonation were excellent, and passagework was crisp and clearly articulated. The third movement, the well-loved Scherzo, which takes inspiration from Goethe’s Faust, had a light, puckish playfulness that sparkled with elfin magic. It was the highlight of not only the Octet, but the entire performance for this listener. After the thrills of the Presto finale, the audience rewarded the players with a richly deserved standing ovation. A wine reception awaited the audience after the concert.

Noree Chamber Soloists is a group with great promise. These young players already possess technical mastery and, given more time playing together, they should mature into a first-rate ensemble.

 

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by Jeffrey Williams  for New York Concert Review; New York, NY
AADGT Presents The Passion of Music Winners in Review

AADGT Presents The Passion of Music Winners in Review

Weill Recital Hall at Carnegie Hall, New York, NY
May 13, 2018

 

Celebrating their 25th anniversary this year, the American Association for the Development of the Gifted and Talented (AADGT) under the direction of founder Elena Rossman has provided vital support to the early careers of some outstanding young musicians. Their most recent concert, fittingly held on Mother’s Day, suggests that their musical nurturing is still going strong.

This reviewer first wrote about AADGT in October, 2006 (when New York Concert Review was still a print periodical). One of their young winners, Aimi Kobayashi had been a mere eleven years old, and I admired her “performances that were stunning for a pianist so young.” She has since won accolades, performed, and recorded (EMI) worldwide, with a new CD/DVD release coming out just this year. Similar stories can be reported about other AADGT winners, counting recognition from competitions and organizations such as the National YoungArts Foundation in 2018 (Max Bobby, Ray Ushikubo), and the Lang Lang Foundation (Anna Larsen, Charlie Liu, Derek Wong, Jasper Heymann), leading conservatories and festivals (Juilliard, Aspen, Curtis) and feature programs such as “The World’s Most Talented Kids” (The Oprah Winfrey Show, 2009), and Arabs Got Talent (2015). Other winners of AADGT’s prize have included Yoav Levanon, Nadia Azzi, Annie Zhou, and Solene Le Van. The AADGT website (www.aadgt.org) also mentions two much more well-known names, Ilya Itin winner of Leeds 1996, and Nobuyuki Tsujii, winner of Van Cliburn, 2009 (though few details are given as to their prizes from AADGT); high praises from Lang Lang, Martha Argerich, and Evgeny Kissin, are among the testimonials.

This year’s concert, not surprisingly, differed greatly from the one I heard in 2006. First of all, this year’s program was in Weill Recital Hall, as opposed to the larger Stern Auditorium – seemingly a wise move for soloists so young. Also, in 2006 there were 6 winners presented, each in substantial sections of the program, while this year there were 32 performers (ages 5-26), some in rather short works. While it was interesting to behold such a large array of young performers (thirty pianists, two violinists), it did make for a program of nearly three hours.

In these days of “safe spaces” for the young, it was good to see the fruits of unrelenting commitment and diligence – and how brave the very young musicians were to perform at such a venue, with Carnegie Hall’s stages being not what one would call “safe” for trial and error performance! The performers were overall quite well-prepared, technically accomplished, and clearly mindful of high artistic standards. This review is not the medium for delving into the playing of every single player – which would be unfair, given the vast disparity of ages and repertoire levels, and the fact that some performers had to wait over two hours to play; that said, some highlights are in order.

The program opened with Evelyn Liu (Age 5-6 Group) playing Tchaikovsky’s Song of the Lark from Children’s Album, Op.39, No. 22, and showing remarkably crisp articulations and digital facility for one so young. She radiated delight upon finishing, and it set lovely tone for the day.

Isabel Liu (age 7-8 Group) followed with excellent renditions of two pieces by William Gillock, Sarabande and Mission Bells. The Sarabande showed an admirable sense of nuance, with lovely pianissimo shading. Mission Bells was sonorous and well-balanced against a gentler accompaniment in the right hand. Dynamics were somewhat exaggerated (approaching fortissimo where marked mezzoforte), but that is generally preferable to a lack of projection, and the playing was always communicative.

In the same age group one heard Vivian Zhang in more Gillock, now the steady rocking of Silver Bells, and Phatsacha Leowattana (Thailand) in Clementi’s Sonatina Op.36 No.1. The Sonatina was well played in all three movements, showing complete focus and maturity. Occasionally one wanted more sound in the right-hand balancing the left, but the slow movement was especially lovely with sensitivity and clarity in the melodic line.

In the age 9-10 category, we heard some surprisingly difficult repertoire, including Chopin’s Impromptu No. 1 in A-flat Op. 29, played very well by Emma Liu and the same composer’s Valse, Op.64 No.2 in the able hands of Phatthicha Leowattana (Thailand). Both players showed a high level of polish and a sense of style which will undoubtedly feel even more natural as they mature. If the two performers with the surname Leowattana are related (one can only guess, but should not assume), they have a built-in two-piano team in the offing!

We also heard in the age 9-10 category Chopin’s Nocturne in E-flat, Op. 9, No. 2, the same Nocturne that we heard in the age 7-8 category. Rather than delve into the comparative merits of the performances (though it is a challenging piece for both age groups, and both fared well), I must express my disagreement with the practice of presenting different performers playing the same piece on the same program – it is trying for audience and performers alike and really should not be necessary if there has been a wide enough selection submitted. The same duplication occurred with two pianists playing Rachmaninoff’s Polichinelle, and though both pianists were impressive for their age groups, this should be a concert and not a competition, so one will refrain from further comment.

Among other minor objections of the day was the omission by one youngster of the A-major octaves in Mozart’s Rondo alla Turca (from Mozart’s Sonata in A major K. 331) probably due to hand size. For such a distinguished venue, I felt that such a piece ought not to be subjected to such shortcuts, as there are many other pieces that could be chosen to be played exactly as written.

Among other programming complaints was the change, from one performer, to Mendelssohn’s Rondo Capriccio instead of the originally programmed work. One’s guess is that there was a Plan A vs. Plan B situation, but such things are a risky proposition. There were various technical challenges unmet, and it simply needed more time, as did several other performers’ works.

In a pleasant break from the typical fare, Gina Park played the third movement Aram Khatchaturian’s Sonatina. It is a demanding movement, with rapid and chromatic fingerwork, and Ms. Park handled its challenges with aplomb.

In the age 11-12 category, Adriel Aguilar played Haydn’s Arietta with Variations with some stylish staccatos, good repeated notes, and a fine sense of Haydn’s humor. Also in this category was Erika Suyama (Japan), playing Chopin’s Bolero, Op. 19. She projected its many moods with sensitivity and played with excellent precision through its rapid passagework, from opening to the brisk polonaise and through to the heroic ending.

Moving to the age 13-14 category, there were several highlights. Stephanie Liao was exceptional in Lowell Liebermann’s Nocturne No. 4, Op. 38, not only for sustaining the hypnotic mood of the opening, but for sustaining the momentum and power building to its thunderous climax. Exceptional as well was Jasper Heymann, playing the third movement of Mendelssohn’s Fantasia, Op. 28. He kept the piece’s character and clarity throughout the fleetest finger-work.

Joanna Wang showed impressive maturity and sensitivity in Chopin’s Nocturne in B-flat minor, Op. 9, No. 1, and Yali Levy Schwartz, showed much technical confidence in the bravura variations of the Paganini-Liszt Etude No. 6 (with just a bit more attention needed for precision in the theme itself).

Elizabeth Tsitron, one of only two violinist winners, added a different timbre in Wieniawski’s Legende and played with a good sense of its Romantic spirit and some deft technique.

 Closest to being at a high professional level (in the age 16-18 category) was Kyrie McIntosh whose Prokofiev Sonata No. 3 in A minor had all the ingredients it needs for a powerhouse performance – biting chordal playing, firm grasp of its structure, tonal and emotional variety, and polish. Also excellent was the Brahms Capriccio in G minor (No. 3 from the Fantasien, Op. 116) as played by Chutikan Chaikittiwatana (in the age 18+ category) . Playing after so much demonstrative pianism, her straightforward but genuine musicality was much appreciated in this noble work.

There was so much that was good in the program that it may be best to lump the less good aspects into some brief generalizations. Overall, the awkward context of a group recital does invite the spirit of competition, so there was a tendency among many to exaggerate contrasts, to indulge in unnecessary hand gestures, and to resort to other extra-musical mannerisms – as if to say, “please notice me!” It is unfortunate to subject musicians, or the music, to this need. With just a bit more time between works (and necessarily fewer works) the performers and audience could feel the psychic space to appreciate each work on its own terms, as pieces of music, absolute and incomparable.

A benefit of the above approach might also be less of the all-too-common “on/off” switch mentality about dynamics, in which extreme louds and softs obliterate the middle ground, with crescendos not sustained and climaxes coming prematurely without depth. In any case, one ought not to think of passages as “loud” or “soft” but as the character, emotion, or concept that gave rise to those dynamics – all then starts to make more sense. Even memorization improves! Nerves are inevitable, but greater focus on the messages or meanings behind each work might have helped keep a few performances on course.

All in all, though, Sunday’s concert offered an impressive array of young musicians, including some stars of tomorrow. Congratulations are in order not just to the performers but to their mentors and families. Congratulations are of course in order to AADGT: Cheers to 25 years!

 

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by Rorianne Schrade  for New York Concert Review; New York, NY
Mason Gross School of the Arts and The Douglas and Inyoung Boyd Foundation present Americans in Rome in Review

Mason Gross School of the Arts and The Douglas and Inyoung Boyd Foundation present Americans in Rome in Review

Americans in Rome in Review
Featuring Faculty, Students, and Alumni of Rutgers University
Min Kwon, Artistic Director and Curator
Min Kwon, Warren Jones, Enriqueta Somarriba, pianos; Kaitlyn Davis, Sonya Headlam, sopranos; Andrew Moore, bass-baritone
Weill Recital Hall at Carnegie Hall, New York, NY
May 7, 2018

 

For some years now, the Mason Gross School of the Arts at Rutgers has sent its best faculty, students, and alumni to New York each spring for a celebration of their talent at Weill Recital Hall at Carnegie Hall. Their programs are always thoughtfully conceived around a theme: this year’s was “Americans in Rome,” composers who benefited from a fellowship of some sort at the American Academy in Rome. Three iconic Americans, one lesser-known American, and one young Italian composer were all represented.

Perched atop its hill on the Vatican/Trastevere side of the Tiber River, the American Academy is a haven for creativity of all sorts, not just music: visual art, architecture, literature. (The French winners of the Prix de Rome (since the first recipient, Berlioz) are housed at the Villa Medici at the top of the Spanish Steps on the other side of the river.)

The program focused on Leonard Bernstein (this year is the centennial of his birth), Samuel Barber, and Aaron Copland, along with two world premieres composed specifically for pianist Min Kwon. She met the respective composers in Rome last year. What a cornucopia of entertainment they presented.

Ms. Kwon and her student Enriqueta Somarriba opened with a brash, perfectly coordinated rendition of Bernstein’s Music for Two Pianos, written just for pleasure while he was a student at Harvard at age nineteen in 1937. In it, we already hear his preoccupation with jazzy content, and a foreshadowing of the fourth of Copland’s Four Piano Blues (1948). In her excellent oral program notes, charmingly delivered before each section of the recital, Ms. Kwon stated that Bernstein considered Copland (eighteen years his senior) his “only composition teacher.” Apparently, influence goes both ways.

Then Andrew Moore, a warmly expressive bass-baritone about to earn his Masters of Music degree from Rutgers this spring, sang Lonely Town from Bernstein’s On the Town, and two of Copland’s Old American Songs: Simple Gifts and At the River. His tone was beautifully produced, and his diction fantastically clear. He radiates unpretentious sincerity, and his large fan club showed him the love.

On this recital, I did feel that Copland got shortchanged, with just the two songs above representing him. I would have loved to hear Ms. Kwon and Ms. Somarriba (or Warren Jones) play the Danzon Cubano, or a section or two from Rodeo.

Then came the two world premieres. Italian composer Vittorio Montalti was in attendance for his haunting Solo (the title refers not only to a musical work, but the Italian word for alone), given a fiercely concentrated performance, which did not neglect beautiful sound, by Min Kwon. The work, which deals with solitude (“singing in the desert”) begins with a very high keyboard cluster played so softly that one can only hear the “wood” of the key hitting the key-bed, this ostinato grows in intensity and volume, like a cosmic clock ticking, and repeats this growth in two cycles. Meanwhile, the left hand plays a fragmentary melody that “goes nowhere” in octaves. A few deep bass notes accompanied by filigree that would not be out of place in Messiaen are added. (I’m pretty sure Montalti did not mean to write a “distended” piece, as his program note states.) Solo shows a composer with a real ear for the possibilities of keyboard color.

Ms. Kwon followed this with her second world premiere, Jonathan Berger’s Il Beccafico (a Roman warbler). In this charming programmatic piece, a bird annoyingly torments the concentration of the would-be composer, who is trying to recall bits of nineteenth-century piano repertoire at the piano in his studio, while the bird keeps intruding. Rather than use descriptive “real-life” imitations of the warbler, Berger cleverly turns its cries into psychological birdcalls within the frustrated head of the composer. Apparently, this happened not only in Rome, but also when Berger returned to New York. Ms. Kwon again proved herself to be a superb advocate for contemporary piano music.

The first half closed with the well-known Symphonic Dances from Bernstein’s West Side Story, arranged for two pianos by John Musto, and played gorgeously by Ms. Kwon and Ms. Somarriba.

After intermission, Ms. Kwon was joined by legendary collaborative pianist Warren Jones for two pieces from Barber’s Souvenirs for piano duet, Op. 28 (1952). Barber himself said that they were meant to evoke the aura of the afternoon teas at the Palm Court of the Plaza Hotel. The two movements played were the Waltz, with its swooning melody and flirtatious ending, and the Hesitation Tango, with its attraction/repulsion, and the ecstasy of the major-mode “love theme” and its “hesitation.” I have heard smoother, suaver renditions of the waltz, but I enjoyed it because of their enjoyment. Ms. Kwon and Mr. Jones visually displayed not only their affectionate collegiality, but the salon charms of the work. I would have loved to hear the entire set!

Sonya Headlam took the stage with Min Kwon for the four songs of Barber’s Op. 13. They are so different, as Ms. Headlam explained, but they are unified by an implicit presence of “woman” at varying stages of life and experience. Ms. Headlam has a light lyric voice with a fast vibrato. She communicated her complete involvement with each text and character very well, but Barber requires a bit more power and width in the middle-to-low passages, and clearer diction. The Secrets of the Old was a bit too fast to allow the humor to be understood. Ms. Kwon’s playing of the double-canon in Sure on this shining night (what the voice sings in the first half is the piano melody of the second part and vice versa) was ravishing. With Barber, rigorous structural details like this are so deftly tucked into a beautiful melodic/harmonic texture that they can go unperceived until pointed out.

The program concluded with a “mini” version of Bernstein’s Candide, with three selections played at two pianos by Ms. Kwon and Mr. Jones: the Overture, I Am Easily Assimilated, and Bon Voyage. I did miss the words on “Assimilated,” the poignant humor is so crucial. Then Kaitlyn Davis sang the showpiece Glitter and Be Gay (with Mr. Jones) in an appropriately hammy, humorous, and sleazy way, all the while removing an array of jewelry baubles from her décolleté and putting them on her fingers, wrists, neck, while singing!

As an encore, the three singers joined Mr. Jones for a fervent rendition of his own arrangement of Somewhere from West Side Story. Bravi to all.

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by Frank Daykin  for New York Concert Review; New York, NY
The Oratorio Society of New York Presents Premieres of Behzad Ranjbaran and Paul Moravec

The Oratorio Society of New York Presents Premieres of Behzad Ranjbaran and Paul Moravec

The Oratorio Society of New York, Chorus and Orchestra; Kent Tritle, Music Director
Laquita Mitchell, soprano; Raehann Bryce-Davis, mezzo-soprano
Joshua Blue, tenor; Malcolm J. Merriweather, baritone;
Dashon Burton, bass-baritone
Carnegie Hall, New York, NY
May 7, 2018

 

Two knockout world premieres were offered at Carnegie Hall this week by the Oratorio Society of New York, under the masterful direction of Kent Tritle. Brand new large-scale works by Behzad Ranjbaran and Paul Moravec were introduced to the public with enormously appreciative reception, and it is a safe bet that they will become ensconced in the repertoires of whatever choruses (with orchestra) can take them on. It didn’t hurt to have five superb soloists, but the chorus and orchestra were also in fine form, handling music that was not only new but challenging in matters of ensemble and multiple languages.

 

Universal themes of freedom, peace, mutual understanding, and human dignity marked the evening, and the 50th anniversary year of the assassination of Martin Luther King was honored in several ways, from the fifth and final text of Mr. Ranjbaran’s work, We Are One (the words of We Shall Overcome) to the central focus of Mr. Moravec’s work, Sanctuary Road: An Oratorio Based on the Writings of William Still, a Conductor for the Underground Railroad.

 

For those not steeped in contemporary music, the pairing of two such prominent composers as Mr. Ranjbaran and Mr. Moravec makes for quite an exciting concert – many presenters would be quite proud to premiere a work from just one of these composers, but this was a high-voltage evening, and the excitement in the hall was palpable.

 

As a bit of background, Mr. Ranjbaran (b. 1955) is a Tehran native who came to the US in 1974 and studied at Juilliard, where he obtained his doctorate in composition and is now on the faculty. He has served as composer in residence for the Philadelphia Orchestra, the Fort Worth Symphony, and other prominent orchestras, and has heard his music performed by soloists such as Joshua Bell, Renee Fleming, Yo-Yo Ma, and other outstanding performers worldwide. His music draws frequent inspiration (as his biography states) “from his cultural roots and Persian heritage.”

 

Mr. Moravec (b. 1957), recipient of the 2004 Pulitzer Prize in Music, as well as Rome Prize Fellowship, Guggenheim Fellowship, and numerous other distinctions, attended Harvard College and Columbia University and has taught at Columbia, Dartmouth, Hunter, and Adelphi, where he is currently University Professor. He has received frequent commissions from major musical institutions and has written over a hundred compositions, with two other major works of his having been performed by the Oratorio Society (in 2008 and 2013).

 

The first “half” (just over thirty minutes) was devoted to Mr. Ranjbaran’s music, We Are One. Set to texts in five different languages in its five continuous movements (Spanish, Persian, Hebrew, Arabic, and English), it was described in the notes as “an expression of our shared desire for respect, justice, freedom, and peace” drawing messages “from different cultures, religions, and time periods.” It also reiterates the word “peace” in twenty different languages, thus representing more than one hundred countries.

 

The work opened with a movement, Paz (Peace), set to a quotation of Benito Juárez about peace being respect for the rights of others. It was clear from its bold, defiant start that this music would speak more about the determination to reach peace than about peace itself. The music brought to mind the strong declarative phrases and sonorities of the opening of O Fortuna from Orff’s Carmina Burana, and there was a similar spirit of dark urgency running through the entire work.

 

Brief interludes of harp and flute led to the movement entitled Bani Âdam, on a text from Sa’di (c1210-1291) about human beings being all of one family. It started more gently but grew in anguish, closing with the admonition that, “to not feel sympathy for human suffering is to be less than human.” The closest to a mood of peace and calm came with the third movement, Shalom, sung in Hebrew. An Arabic text followed, Sal m (by Ibn Arabi, 1165-1240), centered on religious tolerance and love, and leading to the percussive blows announcing the finale, entitled We Shall Overcome (and bearing no musical resemblance to the anthem many know, except in the words). It was a powerful close to a very moving composition, and this listener, certainly among others, would like to hear it again. Mr. Ranjbaran took several well-earned bows from the stage amid a spirit of triumph.

 

After intermission came Paul Moravec’s Sanctuary Road, an oratorio set to a text based on the writings of Underground Railroad conductor, William Still. Chronicling the life events of some of the slaves whom Still helped rescue, these texts were adapted with extreme skill by Mark Campbell. Starting heartbreakingly with the list of slaves’ names and moving to the highly personal and varied individual stories of fear, frustration, sorrow, love, and ultimately freedom, Mr. Campbell and Mr. Moravec had crafted an extremely moving musical drama.

 

A colleague commented that it all felt a bit long, at just over an hour, but this reviewer cannot agree. There was the perfect combination of momentum – building to a frenzy in the heart-pounding episodes entitled “Run” – alternating with more introspective narratives, bitter recollections, and daydreams of love and freedom. The choral writing was perfectly handled to help narrate the drama as well as intensify its emotions. There was no dull moment.

 

The soloists were exceptional, all five. They navigated tricky recitative-like passages through wide ranges and difficult intervals, always with a sure sense of expressivity. With unfamiliar music there is always the question of whether some moments were meant to be quite as dissonant as they emerged, but there was no such question when they were anchored harmonically to the chorus and orchestra, and in the tutti sections especially, the effect was mesmerizing. Maestro Tritle was nothing short of heroic in bringing it all together.

 

Among stirring solo moments, Raehann Bryce-Davis, mezzo-soprano, sent chills down to one’s toes with her performance of The Same Train – Ellen Craft. She conveyed perfectly her protagonist’s dream of Philadelphia, as she coped with the fear of her master’s brother being on The Same Train. Laquita Mitchell, soprano, was especially moving in her final stratospheric utterance “I’ll dance,” as she dreamt of dancing in the rain as a free woman – another breathtaking performance.

 

Joshua Blue was stellar throughout with his powerful golden tone, as well as his superlative diction which penetrated even through the full choral and orchestral sections. Malcolm J. Merriweather, baritone, was also excellent, especially in his solo as Henry “Box” Brown, who escaped in a crate marked “this side up” but spent twenty-six hours upside down and tossed about. In one of the rare moments of sardonic humor, he sung with eloquence his final line “if only these fools could read.” Together this quartet created many memorable moments, with and without the chorus and orchestra; weaving it all together, though, was Dashon Burton, bass-baritone, as William Still, with a voice as steady, true, and profound as one imagines the voice of a deity to be. He was possibly the “MVP” winner of the evening.

 

The final movement of Sanctuary Road closed the evening with one of the most uplifting choral experiences in memory, leaving the word “free” resounding in the air for just a second before thunderous applause burst forth. It was one of those very powerful concert experiences which no one present will be apt to forget. Mr. Moravec and Mr. Campbell took well-earned bows, along with all the other valiant musicians who made it all possible.

 

Bravi tutti!

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by Rorianne Schrade  for New York Concert Review; New York, NY
Wa Concert Series presents Celebrating Winds in Review

Wa Concert Series presents Celebrating Winds in Review

Charles Neidich, Artistic Director
New York Woodwind Quintet:Carol Wincenc, flute/piccolo; Stephen Taylor, oboe, English horn; Charles Neidich, B-flat clarinet, E-flat clarinet; Marc Goldberg, bassoon, contrabassoon; William Purvis, horn
Tenri Cultural Center, New York, NY
May 4, 2018, 7:30 PM

 

One of the great delights of the New York concert season has been my discovery of the Wa series, now concluding its first year. This is truly the “caviar” of chamber music series, with its carefully curated repertoire, emphasizing unusual or neglected composers and pieces, not to mention the lavish hand-crafted menus served before, during, and after the performances, created by artistic director Charles Neidich’s wife, Ayako Oshima.

There was so much wind-superstar power in one room that it took my breath away! Better mine than theirs, however, for they would need every ounce of it to play this difficult program. In the case of musicians on this level, there was never even a hint of strain or difficulty.

The evening began with a selection of Elizabethan lutenist John Dowland’s secular dances, transcribed by hornist William Purvis, who is passionate about this period of music. He deftly and simply explained the concept of “broken consort” to the audience. The music emerged in all its eloquence, with Lachrimae Antiquae a particular highlight.

Richard Wernick’s name and music were new to me on this occasion. He was in attendance, and explained that at “his age” (Mr. Wernick is 84) he decided to compose only what he wished (not to deadlines) and only for friends, preferring to envision “faces instead of clefs” at the beginning of each stave. Thus, his friends the New York Woodwind Quintet gave the world premiere of his Quintet No. 2, a work that makes use of the color palette of the winds to differentiate the strands of counterpoint. They played the work brilliantly, clarifying every texture. Mr. Wernick’s use of klangfarbenmelodie (sound-colors melody), in which the same pitch is repeated by (or traded to) another instrument was remarkable for the way in which the transfers were subtle: one could hardly tell where one instrument began and the other left off.

Then came Elliott Carter’s second wind quintet, Nine by Five, a work completed on his 101st birthday (!). The title refers to the nine instruments played by the five members, each one doubling on another instrument (except the horn). The scenario is one of conversation/argument/ignoring/togetherness, as of actors on a stage, and again these players dramatized every moment of this raucous mini-play.

After intermission came a curio, about which I was initially anxious. How can a string quartet, essentially an intimate form for four players, be transferred to a more “public” type of ensemble, and expanded to five players, without betraying some of its substance? My fears were unfounded, as somehow I expected they would be. Once again, Mr. Purvis displayed his perfect taste-level in his rendering of the Mendelssohn String Quartet No. 2 in A minor, Op. 13. This work, begun in July 1827, has a motto that quotes from a June 1827 song Frage (Question), the question being “Ist es wahr?” (Is it true: that a secret admirer asks the moon and stars about him?) This is due to the eighteen-year-old Mendelssohn’s crush on Betty Pistor, a member of the Singakademie for whom Mendelssohn was the accompanist. Mr. Purvis explained how Mendelssohn fuses the motto technique inspired by Beethoven’s last quartet with the contrapuntal wizardry inspired by Bach. There are numerous references to various late works by Beethoven in each of the cyclic movements, which Mendelssohn wrote about: “the relation of all 4 or 3 or 2 or 1 movements of a sonata to each other and their respective parts, so that one already knows the mystery that must be in music.”

The performance was transcendent, with transparency preserved and the lightning fast “elfin” Mendelssohn interchanges among the instruments every bit as light as when heard on strings. Naturally, the work gained a bit of heft, particularly in the lower lines, but it became its own work of art, as Mr. Purvis said “because it’s so darn fun to play.” Carol Wincenc inhabits another universe of flute playing, inaccessible to mere mortals, but she was not alone in this regard. Mr. Purvis’ muted horn pronunciation of the fugue subject in the second movement was a paragon of subtlety, with the sighing affect ever so poignantly shown. As always, Mr. Neidich was in that alternative universe of perfection too, as were Stephen Taylor and Marc Goldberg.

As an encore, they offered another Purvis transcription, of a Gesualdo madrigal, another of Mr. Purvis’ passions: Moro, lasso, al mio duolo (I die, alas, in my suffering), the chromaticism of which would not be encountered again until Wagner in the nineteenth century.

Mr. Neidich stated that the concert series for next year will be made known very soon. A word to the wise music lover: Run, don’t walk, to this series.

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