Carnegie Hall presents Laureates of the Sphinx Competition in Review

Carnegie Hall presents Laureates of the Sphinx Competition in Review

Elena Urioste, violin; Gabriel Cabezas, cello; Xavier Foley, bass; Tom Poster, piano
Zankel Hall at Carnegie Hall, New York, NY
May 3, 2018

 

Zankel Hall was the venue for a special concert entitled Laureates of the Sphinx Competition on May 3, 2018. Founded by Aaron P. Dworkin to address the underrepresentation of people of color in classical music, the Sphinx Organization is dedicated to transforming lives through the power of diversity in the arts. Their programs focus on four main principles: education and access, artist development, performing artists, and arts leadership. One can learn more about this outstanding organization by visiting www.sphinxmusic.org. The artists presented, in addition to being fine musicians, have dedicated themselves to furthering the mission of music by spearheading their own groups.

Before anything else, I would like to take the time to mention the excellent program notes, which not only gave both “at a glance” and detailed explanations of the works, but biographical information about the composers and the performance histories of the works. There any many performers who feel that program notes are unnecessary and even chide the reviewer for making it an issue! This is missing the point that audiences are not all experts (and not all so-called “experts” know everything either!), and that to leave the listeners without explanations risks leaving them feeling lost or frustrated. The opportunity to educate is lost, and those left behind will perceive classical music as elitist. One cannot bemoan dwindling attendance levels while failing to do the utmost to make listeners want to return.

Laureates of the Sphinx; Tom Poster, Elena Urioste & Gabriel Cabezas; Photo Credit: Pete Checchia

Cellist Gabriel Cabezas led off with Robert Schumann’s Fünf Stücke im Volkston (Five Pieces in Folk Style), Op. 102, with pianist Tom Poster. Schumann was a master of small forms, and this work is no exception. One sees both his Florestan (1,4, and 5) and Eusebius (2 and 3) personalities in this work. While I found Mr. Cabezas to be technically assured with a warm, rich tone, it was the slower works (2.3) that this listener found to be the most compelling, showing Mr. Cabezas to be a sensitive artist who digs deep into the emotional depths of Schumann without making it overly-sentimental or mawkish.

Violinist Elena Urioste and Mr. Poster followed with two works: Olivier Messiaen’s Theme and Variations (1932) and Amy Beach’s Romance, Op. 23. The Messiaen was mesmerizing; Ms. Urioste’s extreme upper register was crystalline, and, combined with Mr. Poster’s attentiveness to balance, the performance was everything one would hope for. The building in intensity of each successive variation was thrilling. The Beach Romance was lush as one might expect, but also a virtuosic showpiece that showed that Ms. Urioste “has the goods” and can wow an audience. Again Mr. Poster is to be lauded for his superb work, in what was consistently excellent throughout the concert.

Laureates of the Sphinx Competition; Tom Poster & Xavier Foley; Photo Credit: Pete Checchia

I’m going to flip the order of the pieces performed by bassist Xavier Foley to discuss his own composition first. His 2016 Cranberry Juice (a New York premiere) was inspired by the music from StarCraft, a real-time strategy game. Mr. Foley writes that his work features 90’s alt-rock sounds with the slightest dash of R&B. A quote from The Simpsons theme song from the earlier solo version was removed due to possible legal issues. D’oh! Cranberry Juice is a fun trip, with frenzied moments delivered by Mr. Foley in a playful way. He is an extroverted performer and a real crowd-pleaser; it is almost as enjoyable to watch him play as to hear him. Two works by Reinhold Glière, Intermezzo, Op 9, No.1, and Tarantella, Op.9, No. 2 showed Mr. Foley’s technical prowess. It’s no mean feat to navigate the rapid passagework on the bass without blurred, muddy sounds and to maintain a singing tone in the higher range, but Mr. Foley made it all look like child’s play.

Ms. Urioste, Mr. Cabezas, and Mr. Poster took the stage for the World Premiere of Divertimento (2018), commissioned by the Sphinx Organization from composer Gabriella Smith (b. 1991). Ms. Smith writes she was inspired by the “quirkiness” of Haydn and the Scherzo from Beethoven’s Eroica Symphony. Complete with extended techniques, pitch bends, and other noises, it featured “special guest appearances” of themes from Papa Haydn and Beethoven, which peeked in as if the players were naughty children, only to have them return to creating mischief when they turned away. It was the product of a highly imaginative and talented up-and-coming composer. Ms. Smith was in attendance and rose to greet the players and the audience to accept the well-earned applause.

Ms. Urioste spoke briefly to thank Sphinx and Carnegie Hall, but also to explain some of the thoughts behind the concert. Diversity not just of skin color, but of gender, country of origin, and musical style, was considered, as well as the presentation of living composers. Ms. Urioste then said that, “we don’t need to talk about it, but just do it” – to some laughter. The message was clear; talk is nice, but action is better.

Maurice Ravel’s 1914 Piano Trio in A minor, completed at the end of August, the first month of World War One, was the final work on the program. It is not surprising that the events of the day had an influence on Ravel (“[I am] working with the assurance and clarity of a madman,” he wrote to a friend), and the end result is a work filled with strife, but also mournful majesty. I was wondering if these young players would fully grasp the pathos of Ravel’s conception and also be able to navigate the considerable difficulties that Ravel placed upon all three players. I should have not feared a thing, as this was one of the best performances of this work I have heard. It was the highlight for this listener, and the audience seemed to second that notion, judging by the extended standing ovation awarded to the players.

Mr. Cabezas humorously vamped as his partners tracked down Mr. Foley for an encore. A charming arrangement by Mr. Poster of Manuel Ponce’s Estrellita (as transcribed by Heifetz) was a lovely ending to a great evening of music. Keep up the good work, Sphinx – I look forward to hearing more from your fine organization!

 

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by Jeffrey Williams  for New York Concert Review; New York, NY
Lynn Spurgat in Review

Lynn Spurgat in Review

Lynn Spurgat, soprano
Jason Wirth, piano
Zankel Hall at Carnegie Hall, New York, NY
May 2, 2018

 

Soprano Lynn Spurgat and pianist Jason Wirth joined together at Zankel Hall at Carnegie Hall for a recital dedicated to songs of love; love lost, love unfulfilled, and the passion and despair were all themes. With works from Beethoven, Wagner, Liszt, and Granados, it was to prove to be a compelling concept realized with excellence.

Lynn Spurgat (www. lynnspurgat.com) is a performer with not only the requisite credentials as a singer, but with a breadth as an artist and communicator. She wrote fine program notes, which helped the listener gain further insights into the presented works. Ms. Spurgat has a commanding stage presence, complete with a big personality and an intense focus as she “locks into” her roles. Jason Wirth (www.jasonwirth.com) is an impressive musician in his own right, and as Ms. Spurgat was to relate to the audience, her “rock from day one.”

When Ms. Spurgat took the stage, the large audience gave her one of the most enthusiastic welcomes that this reviewer can recall witnessing in some time. It was a wonderful thing to see such support for an artist, and I am sure that support lent wings to her performance.

Ms. Spurgat opened with Beethoven’s Ah! Perfido, Op. 65. Ah! Perfido is sung by a woman who has been deserted by her lover, torn between wanting the gods to punish her lover or wanting them to show him mercy for his sins – or sacrificing herself. Ms. Spurgat cycled through the song’s emotions in a frenzied manner, revealing the near madness of the protagonist. It is quite a challenge for the singer to portray these quicksilver mood swings in a believable fashion, and it could be so easy to descend into cartoonish melodrama, making a mockery of it all. Thankfully, Ms. Spurgat avoided these traps. The pleading, the angry outbursts and vengeful spite, the longing and remorse, and the final despairing resignation were all stylishly captured by Ms. Spurgat. The audience loved it.

Wesendonck Lieder, WWV 91, is the common name of a set of five songs for female voice and piano by Richard Wagner, Fünf Gedichte für eine Frauenstimme (Five Poems for a Female Voice). He set five poems by Mathilde Wesendonck while he was working on his opera Tristan und Isolde. The poems are, as Ms. Spurgat (charitably) states, are not on the level of Petrarch. All issues of poetic quality aside, this work, other than the Siegfried Idyll, is the most frequently performed non-operatic work of Wagner’s. Highlights were Der Engel (The Angel), in which Ms. Spurgat’s voice was ethereally light, with nice dynamic restraint while still projecting well into the hall, the lament of Im Treibhaus (In the Greenhouse), and Träume (Dreaming) which Ms. Spurgat transported the listener to another world. Her German diction was outstanding. The audience responded with raucous approval, including many shouts of Bravo! It was a fine end to a fine first half.

After intermission, Ms. Spurgat offered Liszt’s Tre sonetti di Petrarca (Three Petrarchan Sonnets). The story of Petrarch and Laura is so well-known that it is unnecessary to discuss here. This set was the highlight of the evening for this listener. Liszt not only offers brilliant settings of these magnificent texts for the singer, but some virtuosic writing for the pianist, in what is a partnership between the two, as opposed to the secondary role the pianist plays in the Wesendonck Lieder. Ms. Spurgat was superb in projecting these emotionally charged texts with sensitivity and passion. Her voice soared in the upper register without loss of quality or intonation. Mr. Wirth was more than equal to Liszt’s challenges and deserves high praise. The entire set was exceptional, but I’ vidi in terra angelici costume (I saw angelic virtue on earth) was a cut above.

Two works by Granados, selections from the Tonadillas en estilo antiguo, and La Maja y el Ruiseñor (The Maiden and the Nightingale) from his opera Goyescas (as adapted from his 1914 piano suite of the same name) ended the recital. The Tonadillas are song portraits of the working-class neighborhoods of 19th century Madrid. The words majo and maja refer to men and women of the poorer areas, such as Lavapiés. They are mostly light-hearted and whimsical, qualities which Ms. Spurgat played up to the hilt in a delightful way. When she shook her head and waved a finger in a “no-no” gesture in El majo discreto (The Discreet Man) the audience roared in laughter. We already knew that Ms. Spurgat has the technical goods, so it was enjoyable to see her having some unbridled fun. That said, she reminded us that while she can let her hair down, in the end she is still a force, and La Maja y el Ruiseñor was that reminder. It was a powerful close that had the audience leap to their feet in a standing ovation. After two encores, it was time for her to take her leave, with the audience still clamoring for more.

 

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by Jeffrey Williams  for New York Concert Review; New York, NY
Daniel Le in Review

Daniel Le in Review

Daniel Le, Pianist: Anzac Day Celebration Recital
Bruno Walter Auditorium, Lincoln Center, New York, NY
April 24, 2018

 

Brilliant young Australian pianist Daniel Le performed a richly satisfying recital this Tuesday at Bruno Walter Auditorium. Along with music by Schubert and Rachmaninoff, Mr. Le included music of his compatriots Carl Vine, Percy Grainger, and Andrew Howes, in commemoration of Anzac Day.

Mr. Le needs no special occasion as a premise to share his many gifts or those of his countrymen, but it was certainly fitting for an Australian pianist to offer such a program on the eve of Anzac Day, a day of great significance to Australians and New Zealanders. Initiated on April 25, 1916 to commemorate the 1915 landing in Gallipoli by the ANZACS (Australian and New Zealand forces in WW1), Anzac Day has since come to pay tribute more broadly to all Australians and New Zealanders who served in all wars, conflicts, and peacekeeping operations.

Mr. Le’s Australian program choices made for a meaningful tribute, though perhaps a brief New Zealand piece or two could have been added, as there are many fine ones (after all, without NZ it would be merely “Aac Day”)! That is not a criticism so much as a suggestion for future commemorations, because, given Mr. Le’s gifts for presentation, programming and performing, such a concert could certainly become an annual event. The program was enhanced by two poetry recitations by actor Jack D. Martin, first Wilfred Owen’s Spring Offensive and in the second half, Everyone Sang, by Siegfried Sassoon, both read with simple, sincere delivery to allow the moving words their own power and resonance.

As for the music, Mr. Le opened with Schubert’s Sonata in A major, D. 664 (often called “the little A major” to distinguish it from the later larger A major Sonata). He gave it a fittingly unaffected rendition, and though there were a few balance and voicing issues, which might have related to his initial adjustment to the piano (more on that later), it was a lovely opening. To try to draw specific connections from Schubert’s Sonata to themes of Anzac Day may be tenuous (and there were no program notes), but it certainly established the tone of bucolic lyricism from the composer’s less troubled times, while also establishing a poignantly peaceful backdrop to the Wilfred Owen recitation that followed.

The fireworks of the first half came with Carl Vine’s wonderful Sonata No. 1 (1990). This reviewer has long been a fan of this piece, which does not need to be categorized as a major Australian work from the twentieth century, but simply as a major twentieth-century work, period. Mr. Le handled its pianistic challenges and wide-ranging drama with mastery, from the brooding atmospheric chordal opening to the motoric driving sections which build to almost a frenzied jubilance at the climax. Mr. Le was more than a match for all of the virtuosic demands of the exciting first movement, and the toccata-like second movement was equally impressive. The voicing in this piece is layered in such a way that jazzy cross-rhythms emerge from the accentuation of melodic tops, and this pianist brought them all out brilliantly.

The second half opened (after the reading of Sassoon’s poem, Everyone Sang) with the world premiere of a work entitled Bird Songs (2018) by young Australian composer Andrew Howes (b. 1992). It was a powerful juxtaposition, with the line “As prisoned birds must find in freedom” still ringing in one’s ears at the start of the piano work. The movements, entitled Morning Song, Fisher Song, Empty Sky, High-branches Song, and Sky Song were beautifully idiomatic for the piano, billowing with fluid passagework which sounded like inspired improvisations. The music contained very little that one would liken to the language of birds in the way that, say, Ravel did in Oiseaux Tristes or Messiaen in his various Oiseaux, but they suggested more abstractly the soaring, the bleakness, and the grandeur of branches, the sky, and the aerial world, conceivably as related to human experience. This reviewer is completely new to the work of Mr. Howes, but he appears to be a musician well worth following. Mr. Le realized his music imaginatively and with a naturalness that was remarkable in what was announced to be his “iPad debut” using one of the relatively new page-turning technologies.

Veering back to familiar (and non-Australian) territory, the program continued with Sergei Rachmaninoff’s Sonata No.2 in B-flat minor Op.36 (1931 revised). Mr. Le’s excellent technique served him well in this powerhouse piece, and it finished the program proper with ample fire, drawing cheers from his audience. This reviewer was quite fond of Mr. Le’s elasticity of phrase and tempo in the piece and had only rather minor reservations. There was for this listener a perhaps too generous use of the left-before-right quasi-rolled approach, which, aside from the actual marked rolled chords, can approach schmaltz if overdone. There was also the occasional quibble about voicing, including some excessive favoring of the treble in the slow movement, at the expense of the full texture, and what seemed to be an occasional miscalculation of voices in the first movement (in which as a result the opening treble chords almost sounded like an ascending rather than descending third in the top voice).

On the subject of voicing, there was the opposite favoritism in the Schubert, where the long treble lines occasionally paled against a slightly dominating bass. Without enough tone in the longer melodic notes, subsequent shorter notes occasionally seemed blurted out, resulting in some choppy lines. One wondered at first whether the piano was suffering from imbalanced registers, but when the Vine was then given such superb voicing and balance, that theory seemed implausible. Clearly this young pianist can do just about anything he wishes to do, but the demands of Schubert are never to be underestimated!

Following the Rachmaninoff, Mr. Le’s program listed “Percy Grainger Song Arrangements” – almost as built-in encores. To everyone’s delight he offered Gershwin’s The Man I Love and the popular favorite Country Gardens. It is a special pianist who can play Country Gardens perfectly, and Daniel Le is one who can and did. Deceptively tricky, the piece requires a large stretch and some rather unwieldy chord jumps – but the target practice must be done with the blithe ease of a small child picking daisies. It was all there, a delicious close to a fine evening, perhaps best likened to the classic “down under” dessert of Pavlova.

Mr. Le generously thanked a large number of people, including his teacher at the Manhattan School of Music, André-Michel Schub, who was present and, one imagines, justifiably proud.

 

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by Rorianne Schrade  for New York Concert Review; New York, NY
The Center for Musical Excellence presents Heegan Lee in Review

The Center for Musical Excellence presents Heegan Lee in Review

Heegan Lee, piano
Weill Recital Hall at Carnegie Hall, New York, NY
April 24, 2018

 

Normally, when I see the words “prodigious musical savant” I get a queasy feeling in the pit of my stomach. So often, things do not turn out well for prodigies. This unease was largely put to rest by Heegan Lee after the first few notes of the Andante from the Cello Sonata in G minor, Op. 19 (transcribed by Arcadi Volodos), the first Rachmaninoff transcription on his recital: liquid phrasing, sensitive rubato, a beautiful piano sound at all times, and technique to burn. Mr. Lee was a different kind of prodigy: At age fourteen, he (purportedly) “learned the Tchaikovsky Piano Concerto [I assume the first] by ear after hearing it but once on a DVD.” He then continued to learn other works by the Romantics in much the same way. He went on to earn Bachelor’s and Master’s degrees from Manhattan School of Music.

For an official debut recital, there was not enough variety for this reviewer to fairly assess the quality and range of this artist, though he obviously has many virtues in place already. Min Kwon, who introduced Mr. Lee, said we’d hear his love for the piano, and we did. He took the stage with a surprisingly sober demeanor for such a display-oriented player.

I must begin with the second half of the recital, which was a handful of “New Age” (Mr. Lee’s words, not mine) piano music, as arranged by Mr. Lee, by Yiruma (the stage name of Korean composer and pianist Lee Ru-ma), Kevin Kern, and Mr. Lee himself. In his oral remark before playing, Mr. Lee said he chose them to avoid what he called the “monotony” of the typical recital. I’m sorry he feels that way, since there are tens of thousands of varied piano works, very few of which he seemed compelled to perform on his debut. Something tells me he didn’t learn Bach’s Well-Tempered Clavier by ear after one hearing. Every one of his arrangements sounds exactly the same, with the same arpeggiation, climax, and left hand cross-over high note. Yiruma’s River Flows In You, and Kiss the Rain are so much prettier and more eloquent in his (Yiruma’s) own solo piano version “without cosmetics,” so to speak. I’m sorry to be so rough, but maybe one piece would have sufficed to show Mr. Lee’s talent in this direction.

The first half of the recital contained his best playing, despite its lopsided structure. He played two Rachmaninoff transcriptions (one by Volodos, already mentioned, and the other, Vocalise, by Earl Wild) and two short original works. All were given the red-carpet treatment, and his affection for beautiful piano sound was in abundant evidence. I have heard cleaner performances of Rachmaninoff’s Moment musical (Op. 16, No. 4) and Prelude (Op. 32, No. 10), but his emotional involvement and technical fearlessness drew the listener in. The Prelude was mannered, but the Moment was exciting in an impetuous way. The best performance of the evening was his Vocalise, in which he “out-Wilded” Wild.

The Chopin group did not stray far from unabashed warhorses: the Fantaisie-Impromptu, the Revolutionary Etude, and finally a deep work that demands maturity, the F minor Ballade. All contained successful fluidity of fingerwork, but strangely, they began to sound like transcriptions too. I found myself wondering why this bothered me so much. After all, isn’t everything we perform a transcription? We take in the “dots” the composer gives us and process them through our hearts and intellects, our physical gifts, and our nervous systems, and then deliver our “transcription” of the piece. Mr. Lee’s pianistic point-of-view doesn’t seem to change much with the change of piece.

The Fantaisie-Impromptu’s outer sections were daringly too fast for clarity, but they worked. Only in the famous I’m Always Chasing Rainbows melody of the middle section did Mr. Lee seem reluctant to truly vary the color of the many repeats, which I thought he’d be doing lavishly, based on the Rachmaninoff. The Etude was, again, too fast for rhythmic clarity, but impressive if such things impress one. He also changed the concluding run to a vulgar interlocking octave showpiece that, strangely, is easier than Chopin’s original unison run for both hands. In the F minor Ballade, there was a rather slapdash approach side-by-side with great emotional involvement, some exciting rubati, even some intimacy. He displayed very individual ideas (this is good, no “cookie-cutter”) and a big temperament, but the piece could have used more elegance.

None of this fazed the large, enthusiastic crowd, and he gave as an encore an elegantly done Tchaikovsky/Volodos Lullaby, Op. 16. No baby is going to be lulled to sleep during that lullaby!

A debut recital ought to present a calling-card to the musical community, one that shows as many facets of the artist as possible. I know there is “more” within Mr. Lee, and I hope he persists, finds it, and then shares it with us.

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by Frank Daykin  for New York Concert Review; New York, NY
Distinguished Concerts International New York (DCINY) Presents the King’s Singers 50th Anniversary in Review

Distinguished Concerts International New York (DCINY) Presents the King’s Singers 50th Anniversary in Review

Bob Chilcott, Guest Conductor; Simon Carrington, Guest Conductor
Special Guests- The King’s Singers: Patrick Dunachie, countertenor; Timothy Wayne-Wright, countertenor; Julian Gregory, tenor; Christopher Bruerton, baritone; Christopher Gabbitas, baritone; Jonathan Howard, bass
Distinguished Concerts Singers International
Stern Auditorium at Carnegie Hall, New York, NY
April 22, 2018

 

The Golden Anniversary (50th!) of the a cappella group, the King’s Singers, was marked by a concert at Carnegie Hall this weekend, and it would have been momentous if it had simply marked that milestone; it was, however much more than a milestone, and it re-affirmed this ensemble’s continued stature among the preeminent ensembles of the world.

Established in 1968 at King’s College in Cambridge, the King’s Singers have since performed on all the world’s great stages, garnering distinctions too numerous to name but which have included two Grammy Awards, an Emmy Award, a place in Gramophone magazine’s inaugural Hall of Fame, and premieres of works by the leading composers of today.

As a cappella singing has experienced a resurgence in recent years, with groups such as Pentatonix and Voces8 gaining enormous popularity, the King’s Singers have simply remained unwaveringly true to their origins by presenting diverse music (from the Renaissance to folk and popular styles) at an extremely high level. Despite inevitable change of personnel from time to time, there has been remarkable consistency in sound, particularly in their distinctive balance of voices, including always two countertenors (currently Patrick Dunachie and Timothy Wayne-Wright), one tenor (Julian Gregory), two baritones (Christopher Bruerton and Christopher Gabbitas), and one bass (Jonathan Howard). Though some of the current group’s singers have joined as recently as a few years ago, the standards hold fast, and Sunday’s concert was fortunate as well to have two long-term members join as distinguished guest conductors, both Simon Carrington (who was a co-founder and 25-year member) and Bob Chilcott (a member for twelve years). Mr. Chilcott (b. 1955) was also featured on this program as composer and arranger of several works, including the opening one.

We Are, composed by Mr. Chilcott especially for the King’s Singers’ 50th anniversary, was a perfect opener. Set to a poem from The Human Family, by Maya Angelou, Mr. Chilcott found much inspiration in this text, with a focus on the recurring line, “we are more alike, my friends, than we are unalike.” The multiplicity of voices intertwining – from both the King’s Singers and the Distinguished Concerts Singers International – created a musical depiction of diversity itself, and their ultimate convergence was dramatic. It was a brilliant conception, performed expertly under the composer’s fine conducting.

To continue thriving after 50 years, a musical group does well to intertwine the old and the new, and the King’s Singers did just that with the premiere of We Are, as well as a new work by Nico Muhly (b. 1981), To stand in this House. Mr. Muhly’s work, also commissioned to honor the King’s Singers’ 50th anniversary, employs four texts, two prayerful ones from the 15th and 17th centuries (including oneby Henry VI, founder of King’s College, Cambridge, and one by Bishop Thomas Ken) and ending with two more troubled ones from Salman Rushdie (b. 1947) and Zadie Smith (b. 1975), the latter two being notable alumni of King’s College. Mr. Muhly tapped a wide range of musical language to communicate the changing views of time, from the stately polyphony of the first two to the more plaintive third and angst-ridden fourth. The musicians gave devout and passionate readings under the skillful conducting of Simon Carrington.

On a side note, the two newly commissioned works were in some ways opposites. The Chilcott work seemed to bring many widely disparate musical voices into one, while the Muhly piece went the other direction, with the final Zadie Smith text underscoring that even “Individual citizens are internally plural.” Both texts seemed destined to be set to music – essentially a compliment to both composers – though they had strongly different approaches and emotions, and the inclusion of both was quite thought-provoking.

Other newer works on the program included two works commissioned for the King’s Singers 40th anniversary in 2008, including The Stolen Child (text by W.B. Yeats) by Eric Whitacre, a rather eerie tale of magic, and what might think of as a musical prequel, the same composer’s setting of Alone (text of Edgar Allen Poe). Simon Carrington was the superb conductor for these.

Also from among the 40th anniversary commissions was Bob Chilcott’s High Flight, based on two texts, one by Henry Vaughan, 1621-95, and one by pilot John Gillespie Magree, 1922-41. It was another remarkable musical journey through time, composed with a profound understanding of a choir’s potential. One hears in the piece the composer’s years of familiarity with Tavener, Whitacre, and other famed choral composers, but his music naturally carries his own unique voice and gifts. High Flight felt altogether appropriate for this landmark occasion (as it must have for the singers’ 40th), and the close with the famous words “[I’ve] … put out my hand and touched the face of God” was incredibly stirring. The composer conducted the choir and King’s Singers with a spirit of exultation.

More traditional fare included a set entitled “Renaissance Pioneers” including Das G’läut zu Speyer by Ludwig Senfl, with wonderful use of imitation and full of bell sounds, and the heartbreaking Lágrimas de mi Consuelo by Juan Vásquez. Some levity came in the form of Dessus le marché d’Arras by Orlandus Lassus. A rather suggestive text about the purchase of “wares” at a market elicited some fun comments in the singers’ introduction to the effect that “we think we know what she’s selling, but because we’re British we’d rather not say.” The audience loved it. A similarly comical and suggestive Lamorna (traditional arr. Goff Richards) came later as part of a folk song group that included Danny Boy (traditional, arr. Peter Knight) and Bobby Shaftoe (traditional, arr. Gordon Langford).

Other memorable inclusions on the program were Thou, my love, art fair, another inspired beauty by Bob Chilcott (and conducted by the composer), My Soul There is a Country, by famous British composer Hubert Parry, and Moonlight Music, by Eric Barnum (set to texts from Shakespeare’s The Tempest). The glories of England were never far in this program.

Though there were many substantial musical offerings, the audience would undoubtedly have been disappointed without some of the King’s Singers’ more “crowd-grabbing” fare, which included That Lonesome Road of James Taylor, It’s a New World, by Harold Arlen and Ira Gershwin (in an arrangement by Richard Rodney Bennett), and an uproarious version of the Overture from William Tell (Rossini), with some lingual wizardry by the incredible six. The adoring crowd applauded until an encore was granted, And So It Goes, of Billy Joel in a meltingly beautiful arrangement by Mr. Chilcott. There was probably not a dry eye in the house, but this reviewer couldn’t quite see clearly herself to check.

In summary, it was a great evening and a perfect way to honor not only the King’s Singers’ anniversary but also the 10th anniversary of Distinguished Concerts International New York (DCINY), for which the festivities have been ongoing all season. Singers had included groups from Arizona, California, Florida, Idaho, Iowa, Massachusetts, Maine, Missouri, Rhode Island, Texas, Virginia, Australia, Canada, Germany, South Africa, United Kingdom, and (as DCINY words it) “individual singers from around the globe.” One can only guess that it was an experience well worth the trips for them – it surely was for the audience!

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by Rorianne Schrade  for New York Concert Review; New York, NY
Wa Concert Series presents Schubert Masterworks in Review

Wa Concert Series presents Schubert Masterworks in Review

Charles Neidich, clarinet
Smithsonian Chamber Players- Vera Beths, Cynthia Roberts, violins; Steven Dann, viola; Kenneth Slowik, cello; Anthony Manzo, double bass; Andrew Schwartz, bassoon; William Purvis, horn
Tenri Cultural Center, New York, NY
April 21, 2018

 

Clarinetist Charles Neidich impeccably curates a gem of a concert series called Wa (circle, harmony, completeness) at New York’s Tenri Cultural center. Not all of the important musical events in a city as rich in them as New York take place in the “big” venues. Each Wa concert also comes with hand-crafted snacks before the concert and dinner with wine after, made by Mr. Neidich’s wife Ayako Oshima ,herself an accomplished clarinetist. On this occasion, Mr. Neidich enlisted the services of one of the nation’s eminent chamber groups: the Smithsonian Chamber Players, to perform a single masterwork: Schubert’s epic-sized Octet in F major, D. 803.

 

Commissioned by clarinetist Ferdinand Troyer, the Octet was composed in March 1824. The work was premiered at Archduke Rudolf’s home by many of the same musicians who played Beethoven’s Septet. Schubert goes Beethoven one better by adding an additional violin to the instrument group. The Octet’s length was noticed even in 1824; it runs at least one hour depending on repeats, and led Stravinsky (as related in the very complete oral program note by cellist Kenneth Slowik) to say that he “didn’t mind if he occasionally fell asleep during a work by Schubert, since I know I am waking up in Paradise.” After all, isn’t listening to an hour of Schubert better than updating your Instagram feed?

 

These players gave a triumphant reading of the piece, full of sensitive detail and shaping, with full emotional commitment and harmonic direction. In the case of the Octet, as with most of Schubert, remote keys are visited with such rapidity and fluidity that it can all pass by too easily unless the performers make real events from them.

 

I’m tempted to say: “There are only two kinds of clarinetists: Charles Neidich, and everyone else.” Perhaps this is unfair to the many great players out there, but every time I’ve heard Mr. Neidich this season, I come away with the same stunned revelation of superb lyricism coupled with supernatural breath control. He possesses that nearly untranslatable German quality of Innigkeit (inwardness, combined with emotional intensity). He also has a great deal of wa.

 

Mr. Neidich’s assembled team plays period instruments (or faithful modern copies), and this immediately solves any vexing problems of balance, leaving the way open for the players to focus on inspiration, which they possess in abundance. Particularly enjoyable were the contributions of Anthony Manzo, double bass, whose visual involvement with the group was a delight, and bassoonist Andrew Schwartz, whose tone was so mellow I often had to glance around the group to make sure it was coming from him. All played with the highest possible level of musicianship. For an “occasional” work, this score abounds in tricky material, and no player is spared from great technical challenges, all of which have to sound effortless. Vera Beths and Cynthia Roberts handled the violin parts beautifully, and violist Steven Dann had the most delightful pizzicati. Cellist Slowik played with immense lyricism and William Purvis handled the peril-prone valveless horn with his customary aplomb. Ultimately it was the magic created by Mr. Neidich that ruled and was especially heartbreaking in the second movement, appropriate since the work was commissioned by a clarinetist.

 

At the beginning of the last movement, we hear what Alfred Brendel calls “the trembling of the syphilitic” dramatized by the ensemble, a window into Schubert’s lifelong “Todesahnung” (presentiment of death), especially poignant since he was just re-entering musical and social life after a spurious mercury treatment for his syphilis. The melodic fragment heard over the tremolo strongly resembles one of Schubert’s Schiller settings: Die Götter Griechenlands (The Greek Gods, 1819), which opens with the line “Schöne Welt, wo bist Du?” (Beautiful world, where art Thou?), the entire Romantic period summed up in one line. The entire “trembling” episode then serves merely as the introduction to a foot-stomping folk-like song/dance that had numerous audience members vainly resisting to tap their feet.

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by Frank Daykin  for New York Concert Review; New York, NY
SubCulture presents Ian Hobson: Sound Impressions: The Piano Music of Claude Debussy & Maurice Ravel- 6th in series

SubCulture presents Ian Hobson: Sound Impressions: The Piano Music of Claude Debussy & Maurice Ravel- 6th in series

Ian Hobson, piano
SubCulture, New York, NY
April 18, 2018

 

 

Ian Hobson concluded his six-recital series of the complete solo piano music of Debussy and Ravel with his finest playing of the season. His customary technique did not fail him, but he added elements of dynamic control and total emotional involvement that rendered many moments simply breathtaking. I have reviewed the first, third, and fourth recitals previously in these pages, and I have been quite firm with Mr. Hobson because I believe “French is in the details,” but on this occasion, I had no reservations. The program consisted almost entirely of valedictory pieces, the last works of each composer, with one relatively early work by Debussy. The common threads: the only toccata by each composer, music inspired by wartime, and neo-Baroquism.

 

Mr. Hobson began with Debussy’s “updated Baroque” homage, the suite Pour le piano (1900/01), giving it one of the finest renditions I have ever heard live. The energy of the opening Prélude was fierce, and he respected the very long pedals requested by Debussy, which I have heard other pianists try to “neaten up,” thereby falsifying an important part of the color. Then came the Sarabande, a slight revision of an earlier work, redolent with the influence of Satie. Here Mr. Hobson became revelatory, with a mournful, dignified tempo and gorgeous chord balancing. Of course, his reliable nimble fingers gave us the perfect Toccata.

 

He followed this with two little-known Debussy gems from very late in his career: the haunted Élégie, a charity piece for a series on “Women and War,” and the Pièce pour l’oeuvre du “Vêtement du Blessé, written for the WWI relief organization, “Le Vêtement du Blessé” (The Dressing of the Wounded). Debussy, who was mortally ill with the cancer that would kill him and sick at heart with the violence of war, often wrote of the impossibility of composing music in such a time, yet he persisted. Both works were played with total sensitivity.

 

Mr. Hobson then presented Ravel’s final solo piano work, Le Tombeau de Couperin, a tombeau being a Baroque musical honoring of a departed colleague: here the pretext is not only Couperin, but the entire French eighteenth century, one of Ravel’s favorite idealized pasts. Ravel heightens the elegiac content with dedications to friends killed in World War I: one friend per movement, except the Rigaudon, which is dedicated to childhood friends of Ravel, Pierre and Pascal Gaudin, from Saint-Jean-de-Luz, killed by the same shell on November 12, 1914. It was their first day at the front. Their mother’s name syllabified, Ma-“rie Gau-din,” inspired the punning dedication of the Ri-gau-don. The Prélude spun its imitation harpsichord web with perfect delicacy and beautiful voicing. Hobson’s Fugue was a marvel of contrapuntal clarity (the only fugue in Ravel’s published oeuvre, its keyboard layout is confounding and awkward) and the ending vanished into heartbreaking silence. The Forlane and Rigaudon had great energy, with the middle section of the latter bringing the sense of loss firmly into our awareness. The Menuet was perfection, particularly in its final coda-like page that dissolves into a dissonant trill. Only in the Toccata (another awkward series of nightmare problems for the pianist to solve) was I aware of any slight technical struggle, yet Mr. Hobson’s unflagging momentum and his total emotional commitment made it the shattering yet triumphant ending it should always be. Ravel himself served in the war (enlisting at age 41), witnessing the horrors while driving a dilapidated truck; truly his fallen colleagues are transformed in this remarkable work. Their lives were not sacrificed in vain.

 

Mr. Hobson then played Debussy’s truly “last” work for solo piano, a barely-there two pages discovered in 2001, titled Les Soirs illumines par l’ardeur du charbon (Evenings lit by the glowing coal), ironically found among the possessions of a Parisian coal merchant who made sure that Debussy’s home stayed warm—there were such critical shortages of coal during World War I. The title is a line from Baudelaire’s Harmonie du soir, which Debussy had set as a song for voice and piano in 1887/89. The music browses freely from snippets of his earlier works of all periods and ends almost before it begins, which does not lessen its heavy air of nostalgia.

 

Mr. Hobson finished with what many consider the greatest set of Etudes since those of Chopin, Debussy’s two books of six each, containing fiendish technical challenges, all of which must stand in the service of the most sophisticated musical ideas. Each one was given the perfect treatment, just a few highlights: the fourths and sixths were magic, and the first five of book two were mesmerizing in their variety, all perfectly done. Debussy turned to the abstract as an escape from the hideous realities with which he had to deal, yet for those who listen intently, one can hear distant horn calls and barely suppressed violence even in these elegant works.

 

This was an immense achievement (I mean not only this recital but all six), and it brought the proper attention to a repertoire that, while “popular,” is not programmed often enough. Bravo, Ian, and come back soon.

 

 

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by Frank Daykin  for New York Concert Review; New York, NY
Distinguished Concerts International New York (DCINY) presents The Music of Eric Whitacre in Review

Distinguished Concerts International New York (DCINY) presents The Music of Eric Whitacre in Review

Eric Whitacre, composer/conductor
Kelly Yu-Chieh Lin, piano
Sara Jean Ford, soprano
Jad Abumrad, special guest
Distinguished Concerts Singers International
David Geffen Hall, Lincoln Center, New York, NY
April 15, 2018

 

 

Fierce rain, wind, and tax deadlines could not stop throngs of music-lovers and fans of Distinguished Concerts International New York (DCINY) from coming to hear the music of Eric Whitacre and friends at David Geffen Hall, Sunday April 15, at 8pm. Nor could the fact that the same program (with different choirs) was heard the previous week at Carnegie Hall (for that review, go to DCINY The Music of Eric Whitacre April 8, 2018). In fact, thanks to the concert being live-streamed on Facebook, there was little to prevent virtually anyone (no pun intended) from hearing it, though nothing tops the unique excitement of live music, especially under the leadership of someone as charismatic as Eric Whitacre.

This reviewer first had the pleasure of hearing and reviewing the music of Eric Whitacre back in 2009, when New York Concert Review was still a print periodical rather than an online one. Mr. Whitacre was already in great demand but there was clearly much more coming. My description of his music as “ingenious” and “inspired” is as true now as then, and expectations that his musical commentary “could make him a real Pied Piper” appear to have been fulfilled and surpassed (not that any special credit is claimed for these observations – rather like observing that water is wet).

Mr. Whitacre (b. 1970) is a bit young to be having anything resembling a retrospective, but this concert allowed his fans to hear music spanning nearly three decades, some “greatest hits” alongside some newer works, plus a few friends’ works and arrangements tossed into the mix. Adding to the firepower were the Distinguished Concerts Singers International, unfailing collaborative pianist Kelly Yu-Chieh Lin, fine soprano Sara Jean Ford, radio host and sound designer Jad Abumrad, and some five-hundred singers hailing from Arizona, California, Georgia, Illinois, Kansas, New Jersey, New York, North Carolina, Oregon, South Carolina, Texas, Canada, and (as DCINY’s written material states) “individual singers from around the globe.”

Mr. Whitacre’s entrance with the pianist, Ms. Lin, was greeted with cheering, as one expects from rock stars, and with characteristic energy he leapt puckishly to the podium. As an opening greeting, he led the choir in his own arrangement of The Star-Spangled Banner by John Stafford-Smith. The gesture was appreciated by many in the audience who stood up, with hands on hearts. Some traditionalists might not take to all of it – this listener is still on the fence – but it was certainly interesting to hear the old familiar phrases treated with Mr. Whitacre’s signature sound – the added major and minor seconds coloring basic triadic sonorities.

Moving on to Mr. Whitacre’s strictly original works, the program continued with his very famous piece Lux Aurumque (2000), translated as “Light and Gold” (the latter being also the name of his Grammy-winning album from 2012). It was beautifully executed by the massive choir. Thanks to some alchemy of the composer’s, the voices do seem to shimmer in this, and depending on the dynamics of each individual voice, a harmony pulsates between consonance and dissonance, producing the illusion of the choir being a single vibrating organism. The combined choirs, which had met only a few days before, gave a beautiful performance.

Five Hebrew Love Songs (1995) followed, short evocative pieces on texts written by Hila Plitmann and given sensitive accompaniment by a string quartet who also played the quiet introduction. Temuná was pensive, rendered with a folk-like simplicity, followed by Kalá Kallám, which resembled a plaintive sicilienne in the lower voices before breaking into exultant dance music in the higher voices, with tambourine accents. It was quite impressive to see so many young people singing from memory in various languages, in this case Hebrew, and it was a credit to their directors who undoubtedly worked for many months to achieve such a high level. The last three songs included Lárov, appropriately brief to suit a text about love diminishing distances, and Eyze shéleg! an exquisite musical evocation of falling snow. Rakút, gently closed with the strings just as they had opened the set.

Little Birds (1992), next, was evidence that Mr. Whitacre’s flair for unusual effects in choral music started early. Set to an enchanting poem on birds by Octavio Paz, it includes bird whistles from the choristers and a fluttering descent of white pages at the close, suggesting the rusting of birds among the trees.

To mix things up, and because the composer John Mackey is a good friend and colleague of Mr. Whitacre’s, this concert included the New York premiere of Mr. Mackey’s piece The Rumor of a Secret King (premiere if one counts this Geffen Hall performance as an extension of last week’s Carnegie Hall premiere, the actual first). Mr. Mackey needs little introduction to new music circles, but this piece, reportedly his first foray into choral music (set to a text by his wife A. E. Jaques), met all expectations. Filled with a sense of anticipation built on repeated syllables blending with the text to a final climactic Alleluia, it was conducted precisely and winningly. At the end, Mr. Whitacre remarked, “I hope John was watching on Facebook” – then looked at the camera and quipped, “Wassup, John?”

Returning to his own composition briefly, Mr. Whitacre conducted The Seal Lullaby (set to text of Rudyard Kipling), a touching piece composed originally for film, before conducting two arrangements by another friend, Moses Hogan (1957-2003), the spirituals Elijah Rock and The Battle of Jericho, both performed with infectious spirit and wonderful rhythmic energy. (A third spiritual, I want Jesus to Walk with Me, was listed on the printed program but was omitted.) What a great close to the first half!

After intermission, we heard only work of Mr. Whitacre himself. First came his enchanting setting of Goodnight Moon (text by Margaret Wise Brown) sung beautifully by the chorus, with the voice of soprano Sara Jean Ford soaring like a dream over all, and following it was the setting of the stunning poem, I carry your heart, by E.E. Cummings, a piece dedicated to the marriage of two friends. As Mr. Whitacre recounted, it took much searching to find the right music for the latter gem – but the good news is that he did, and with great soulfulness. The performance by these newly convened choruses was again remarkably sensitive.

Cloudburst (1991) was a welcome rain after the great emotional weight invested in the prior pieces. Much loved and imitated by now, notably for the striking finger-snapping, clapping and other effects to simulate a storm, it was a joy to revisit since my first hearing in 2009. The effects were so persuasive (and the audience cooperated) that one really wanted to grab a towel and dry off! Home, from The Sacred Veil was then given its Lincoln Center Premiere. Part of a new work that Mr. Whitacre says needed adjusting as recently as the day before this concert, it is set to a text by Charles Anthony Silvestri on the large matters of life, death and the thin veil between them. For this work, the composer drew upon the electronic expertise of Jad Abumrad in creating sounds of surf. It is a deeply moving piece about finding one’s spiritual “home” in one’s true love.

Another high point of the program was The City and The Sea (premiered in 2010 by DCINY), a set of five more E.E. Cummings poems of varying emotions and scenes. The music matched and magnified the texts’ moods, from the sanguine i walked the boulevard to the melancholic the moon is hiding in her hair. At the heart were maggie and milly and molly and may and as is the sea marvelous, both set with a sense of youthful wonder and sung accordingly. Perhaps the most memorable though was the final one, little man in a hurry, enlivened by Mr. Whitacre’s dance-like conducting style. He led his attentive singers in a precise and comically frenzied performance.

 From this point, emotions took a plunge in Mr. Whitacre’s arrangement of the extremely dark song, Hurt by Trent Reznor (b. 1965), sung in the nineties by the group Nine Inch Nails, later Johnny Cash, and also by Mr. Reznor himself. The lyrics (including “I will let you down,” “I will bring you pain,” and, “everyone I know goes away in the end”) speak of profound depression. It is not easy, in this listener’s opinion, to convey through the angelic voices of several hundred well-coached choristers the kind of raw loneliness and despair that one once heard in the gravelly voice of the lone, weather-beaten Johnny Cash as he sang it, but Mr. Whitacre’s setting was truly painful in a completely different, stylized way. Soprano Sara Jean Ford sang the agonizing words against a faint choral hum at first, joined later in the devastating lyrics by all. At times, Ms. Ford’s voice reached otherworldly heights, sounding almost wailing over the other voices, and the overall effect was excruciating.

Not much can follow such pain except sleep, and the song Sleep (2000) followed, closing on a soft note what was Whitacre’s 15th concert with DCINY. The audience rallied from the depths to applaud and cheer the musicians and the music. Bravo once again to DCINY and to Eric Whitacre.

 

 

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by Rorianne Schrade  for New York Concert Review; New York, NY
Distinguished Concerts International New York (DCINY) Presents Dreamweaver in Review

Distinguished Concerts International New York (DCINY) Presents Dreamweaver in Review

Distinguished Concerts Orchestra, Distinguished Concerts Singers International, James M. Meaders, DCINY Conductor
Ola Gjeilo, Composer-in-residence and Piano
Miran Vaupotić, Guest Conductor
Meredith Lustig, Soprano
Jessica Grigg, Alto
Stern Auditorium, Carnegie Hall, New York, NY
April 15, 2018

 

 

Once again Distinguished Concerts International New York (DCINY) demonstrated the power of music on a massive scale in their recent concert at Carnegie Hall. It was another extravaganza.

 

Behind it all, of course, is a mission of encouraging music far and wide through performance and education, and in tribute to one who devoted decades to this mission, James M. Meaders, DCINY Conductor, presented the DCINY Educator Laureate Award to conductor, arranger, author, and educator, Dr. Milburn Price at the program’s opening. It set a tone of reverence to start off the evening.

 

For the music itself, Norwegian Ola Gjeilo and American Dan Forrest were the two featured composers whose major works were presented, alongside shorter works by Michael J. Evans, Joseph Deems Taylor, Dwight Beckham, and Matej Meštrović. Mr. Gjeilo and Mr. Forrest share some remarkable similarities in some ways. Both happen to have been born in 1978, and both write music that employs rather conservative tonality in exploring spiritual themes. Both are part of a growing wave of choral music that often hearkens back to days of chant, while freely tapping into multicultural or folk material, the simple harmonies and spare textures of New Age music, and some cinematic orchestral elements. Both composers are, perhaps needless to say, immensely popular.

 

Whatever one’s musical style preferences might be, it is hard not to admire the passion with which several hundred choir members on Sunday embraced both composer’s works. The Distinguished Concerts Singers International, the core group, along with the Distinguished Concerts Orchestra, set the stage for committed performances by choruses from the states of California, Florida, Georgia Kentucky, Louisiana, Minnesota, Mississippi, Oregon South Carolina, Texas, and Washington, as well as Australia, Canada, the UK, New Zealand, and (as DCINY’s printed material states) “individuals from around the globe.” Wow!

 

Mr. Gjeilo, known as the composer-in-residence with the well-loved group, Voces8 (heard on Decca with the choir, Tenebrae), has composed for other notable groups as well, such as the Phoenix Chorale, whose bestselling Northern Lights collection on Chandos was named iTunes Best Classical Vocal Album of 2012. Mr. Gjeilo has also released crossover piano albums Stone Rose and Piano Improvisations, parts of which this listener has heard and would characterize as “New Age.” As a disclaimer, New Age is not a style of which this listener is terribly fond in general, though, Mr. Gjeilo’s persuasive gifts make that stance difficult.

 

The first work we heard on Sunday was Mr. Ojeilo’s set of seven choral pieces called Dreamweaver, including movements, Prologue, Dreamsong, The Bridge, Intermezzo, Paradise, Dominion, and Epilogues. Mr. Ojeilo’s biography states that “his music often draws inspiration from movies and cinematic music” – and one could certainly hear that marked influence on Sunday. In the movement entitled Bridge, built largely on a rhythmically driving repeated bass note beneath surging crescendi, one could easily imagine a film hero engaged in desperate struggle, and indeed, the text of Dreamweaver features its own hero. It is based on the Norwegian medieval folk poem, Draumkvedet (with translated text by Charles Anthony Silvestri) in which its protagonist, after a thirteen-day sleep, recounts his dreams of “brave, beautiful, terrifying, and ultimately redeeming journey through the afterlife” (in the composer’s words).

 

The alternation of hymn-like calm and robust cinematic flourishes made for immediately gratifying dramatic episodes, even if occasionally one felt a yearning for the slower burn of a work by Beethoven or Brahms. Highlights were expressive solos from the string principals and some subtle chordal surprises in the opening movement Prologue.

 

Mr. Gjielo’s Song of the Universal followed, set to a text of Walt Whitman. Opening with a quiet choral hum, the music built to ecstatic peaks. The piano alternated between providing glassy rhythmic treble timbres and simply underscoring the basic harmonies. A personal reservation from this listener was that occasionally when the piano served merely to outline or double the harmonies, it detracted from, rather than adding to, the transcendent effect as a whole, lending things a more pedestrian feeling. Overall, though, Gjeilo’s pieces – and their performances – emerged as music that should engage this increasingly “attention deficit” world. Maestro James M. Meaders conducted with marvelous mastery and energy, as he did again later in the Dan Forrest work.

 

One would be remiss not to mention the superb soprano, Meredith Lustig, whose sound soared with great purity with and above the chorus. She also sang in the second half to grace the Forrest work, as did exceptional alto, Jessica Grigg.

 

Dan Forrest, whose Jubilate Deo closed the program, is known as the acclaimed composer of choral, orchestral, instrumental, and wind band works, which, through several publishers, have sold in the millions of copies and become firmly ensconced in the repertoires of musicians around the world. Mr. Forrest’s Requiem for the Living, given its New York premiere under the auspices of DCINY in 2014, was reviewed quite favorably in New York Concert Review here: DCINY Life and Liberty In Review.

 

Jubilate Deo is a remarkably potent work. Employing texts in Latin, Hebrew, Arabic, Mandarin, Zulu, and Spanish, it marks a growing trend towards a “globalized” choral style seen also in some of the music of Karl Jenkins, Christopher Tin, and others. The sheer numbers onstage were so large that, even in the hands of expert conductor Meaders, they threatened to encumber the tempo stability and ensemble; thankfully, however, they never quite did. With the steel resolve and training by so many choral directors from all over the world, these singers held their own in what was ultimately a triumph.

 

Especially moving was the second piece, a duet sung in Hebrew and Arabic simultaneously by Ms. Grigg and Ms. Lustig, intended to symbolize (in the words of the composer) “the unity between these cultures.” It was extremely stirring. Other highlights included the rousing Zulu movement, Ngokujabula!, which is so infectiously joyful that it will surely be a favorite with choruses as a standalone piece. This listener could not shake the tune for much of the day, despite inability to pronounce the word! Bravo to all!

 

Sandwiched between the Gjeilo and the Forrest was a string of shorter works for orchestra alone under the direction of excellent guest conductor Miran Vaupotić. The group started with Into the Woods by American composer Michael J. Evans (b. 1964), a musical celebration inspired by a Celtic fertility festival. It was played with exotic sensual relish.

Next came a work by American Joseph Deems Taylor (1885-1966), known more commonly as simply Deems Taylor and remembered today more for his music criticism and eponymous award in music criticism than for his compositions. Despite (or perhaps because of) his relative obscurity as a composer, it was a joy to hear a composition of his, a well-constructed, thoughtful movement of stately mood. Mr. Vaupotić is to be commended for looking outside of the more commonly played fare.

 

Also unknown to this listener was a work by American Dwight Beckham (b. 1931), entitled Memorial Ode. Based on the beautiful Ralph Vaughan Williams tune Sine Nomine, it is enhanced by timpani and snare drum rhythms yielded by the initials HR in International Morse Code (for the dedicatee Harold Romoser) – an intriguing compositional feature. It is a regal work and was given a fine performance.

 

Last of this set before intermission was a performance of Danube Rhapsody by Croatian Matej Meštrović (b. 1969), with the composer at the piano in two flashy concerto-type movements which brought to mind some of the festive crowd-pleasers of André Rieu or other crossover artists. It was clearly a joyous moment for the performers, particularly Mr. Meštrović, who took several selfies and blew kisses to the audience!

 

The evening was all in all quite a success. The audience appeared to love every minute. In this day of decrying empty seats in concert halls, DCINY apparently has their answer to that problem.

 

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by Rorianne Schrade  for New York Concert Review; New York, NY
The Viola Sings: Noree Chamber Soloists, NYC Concert Series III in Review

The Viola Sings: Noree Chamber Soloists, NYC Concert Series III in Review

 Yoon Lee, Yi Qun Xu, artistic directors
Yoon Lee, piano; Stella Chen, Bela Horvath, violins; Sung Jin Lee, Caeli Smith, violas; Aaron Wolff, Mariko Wyrick, Yi Qun Xu, cellos; Yi Hsuan Chiu, double bass
Church of the Blessed Sacrament, New York, NY
April 12, 2018

 

The Noree Chamber Soloists gave a good program April 12th at the Church of the Blessed Sacrament that featured the viola in various prominent roles. For me, the terms “chamber” and “soloist” don’t really belong together, their two aesthetics opposed, but perhaps I’m just being cranky. These young players are all obviously in command of their instruments, playing with musicality of a high order. Any reservations I have I will attempt to clarify in the details below.

The evening began with a beautifully phrased account of Mozart’s well-known Piano Concerto No. 23 in A major (K. 488), in which the soloist and artistic director Yoon Lee showed fleet scale-work, utterly even runs, and poetry when needed, despite the inferior instrument on which she had to perform. I did feel that it sounded “denatured” without the ever-so-important wind parts. Perhaps K. 414 (No. 12, the “other” A major) would have been a better choice, since Mozart himself arranged it for piano and string quartet. The strings sounded well, but I would have preferred greater inflection in phrase direction; I thought the acoustics of the large cathedral space were “eating details,” so to speak. I would have liked to hear more from Yoon Lee, but this was her only contribution to the evening.

A very good rendition of Ligeti’s solo viola sonata by Sung Jin Lee followed. It uses Rumanian folk-sources and their characteristic quarter-tone bending to tell its story. No matter how well one explains the pitch bending, it remains difficult for ears that are not culturally accustomed to hear it as anything but “out-of-tune”. It was certainly not in this case.

Yoon Lee, Pianist

All the works were preceded by verbal program notes, which I enjoy, but the speakers need to project their voices so all might hear them clearly, especially in such a reverberant space. The lack of printed program notes, a lamentably common event in New York of late, seemed especially wrong given the unusual repertoire presented.

Next came an excellent rendition of Derek Bermel’s Soul Garden, for viola and string quintet, with Caeli Smith as soloist. Mr. Bermel delivered his own program note, stating that he conceived the viola as a sort of “gospel baritone,” and the bluesy flavor of the solo part was perfectly done. The difficult ensemble accompaniment was especially ethereal.

After intermission, Brahms’s String Quintet No.1 in F major, Op. 88 was given a strong, committed reading, one that flowed with liquid enthusiasm, appropriate for this mostly sunny score. Phrasing, direction, and many details were all carefully worked out, though I wished for more “growing” when, for instance, a note is played syncopated and held while a new harmony appears underneath it. It is too easy to play one’s instrument so well that the sense of yearning, so crucial to Romantic period music (especially Brahms), can be minimized, removing an important dimension from the music. Also, as often happens in such an acoustic, the lowest sonorities tend to disappear, and I felt the cello part needed to compensate more for that. Sung Jin Lee was the excellent “singing” first viola. Stella Chen on first violin, and cellist Yi Qun Xu were also wonderful, which is not to ignore the contributions of the others at all. These musicians will mature even more if they remain together, but their starting level is already high.

 

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