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Vocal Artists Management presents Kyunghee Kim in Review

Kyunghee Kim, soprano

David Holkeboer, piano; Paul Won Jin Cho, clarinet

Marc A. Scorca Hall, Opera America National Opera Center, New York, NY

February 27, 2018

Vocal Artists Management (www.vocalartistsmgmt.com) presented soprano Kyunghee Kim in recital with pianist David Holkeboer on February 27, 2018 at the Opera America National Opera Center America. She offered a variety of works, including arias from Le nozze di Figaro and Adriana Lecouvreur.

Ms. Kim’s biography lists an impressive number of appearances throughout the world, both as a soloist and in featured operatic roles. Mr. Holkeboer is both highly sought after as a vocal coach and collaborator.

The program provided translated text of the works (but not the original), which was welcome, but it would have been desirable to have some information about the lesser known composers.

For those unfamiliar with the venue, the recital hall has the intimate feel of a salon but with the acoustics one doesn’t find in a typical salon. While the number of audience members was not large, it still had the appearance of being relatively full.

Ms. Kim opened with three works, Pergolesi’s Se tu m’ami, se tu sospiri (If you love me) and Selve amiche (Friendly Woods) from Antonio Caldara, followed by Rossini’s La promessa (The promise). Ms. Kim’s vocal gifts were immediately apparent. Her vibrato was well-controlled and used sparingly, which for this listener was ideal, and her intonation was true. While she possesses a powerful voice, she was clearly aware of the lively acoustics of the small hall without any loss in vocal quality. This was the sign of a sensitive musician at work.

Franz Schubert’s Der Hirt auf dem Felsen, D. 965 (The Shepherd on the Rock), for soprano, clarinet, and piano, ended the first half. Clarinetist Paul Won Jin Cho joined Ms. Kim and Mr. Holkeboer. The interplay among the three musicians was exquisite, from the lovely opening “echoes,” to the darker tones of the middle sections, ending with the optimistic and hopeful last section. I would like to give Mr. Cho special mention for the deep, rich tone he projected, along with the agility of his technique, which blended perfectly with the voice. Ms. Kim captured the emotion with skill, in what the highlight of the evening for this listener.

After a very short intermission, Mr. Holkeboer played a solo version of the lovely Meditation from Jules Massenet’s Thais. He then launched into the introduction of Porgi amor, from Mozart’s Le nozze di Figaro. Ms. Kim then strode onto the stage, wearing a different dress from her opening half. There is no need to go into detail about this aria, as it is so well-known, with almost every soprano of note having had a turn with it. Ms. Kim suffered no complexes, as her interpretation would hold its own with any other. It was achingly poignant as Ms. Kim drew out all of its despair.

Ms. Kim had already established her artistry, so it was now time for a display of vocal gymnastics. Three songs from Spanish composer Fernando Obradors (1897-1945) fit the bill. Chiquitita la novia (given a literal translation as “Tiny the Girlfriend” where “A Tiny Bride” would be more idiomatic), Del cabello más sutil, and El vito are highly dramatic works which push the singer to the limits, both in range and technique. They also feature virtuosic piano accompaniments, keeping both performers on their toes. Any mishaps could render the effect almost cartoonish, but Ms. Kim pushed aside these dangers as trifles and made it all seem like child’s play. Her diction was also excellent. The audience showed its appreciation with enthusiastic calls of brava!

Io son l’umile ancella (I am but the humble servant) from Francesco Cilea’s Adriana Lecouvreur ended the recital. After the pyrotechnics of the Obradors works, it might have been an anti-climax, but this was far from the case. Skillfully done, it was a triumphant ending which the audience rewards Ms. Kim with a standing ovation.

As an encore, Ms. Kim offered the Korean folk song Arirang, often called the unofficial national anthem of Korea, which she sang with a special reverence.

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

Key Pianists presents Misha Dichter in Review

Misha Dichter, piano, joined by Cipa Dichter in duos

Weill Recital Hall at Carnegie Hall, New York, NY

February 21, 2018

Legendary pianist Misha Dichter is the next musician recognized by Terry Eder’s unique series Key Pianists, whose mission is to recognize musicians who aren’t necessarily before the public eye right now, or whose commitment to a certain repertoire might marginalize them in the cutthroat commercial concert world.

Mr. Dichter hasn’t played a major solo recital in New York since 1999, having suffered a disability of the worst kind that threatens the pianist’s primary tool: the hand. I won’t enumerate here, but he underwent successful surgery and rehab. Thank goodness for that. He has made enormous contributions in both live and recorded performance, and his commitment to duo-piano playing (at one and two keyboards) with his wife has always been in the forefront, unusual for most virtuosi.

I truly believe that one must exercise respect when speaking of legendary established artists, after all a reputation isn’t going to be made or unmade by my comments. The evening, while successful and often beautiful, was complex for me, something I will try to make clear in the ensuing comments. Two of Schubert’s massive late works bookended Copland and Scriabin, strange bedfellows but good contrast.

The entire first half of the recital was devoted to Mr. Dichter’s partnership with his wife of fifty years, Cipa Dichter (How is this possible?? Neither one of them even looks fifty!). They opened with the lyrical and ever-so-tragic Fantasy in F minor, D. 940. The normally excellent program notes by Paul Griffiths were a bit off-base on this occasion. He missed the point that the work is dedicated to one of Schubert’s piano students, and (as usual) an unrequited crush of his: Caroline von Esterházy, though anything between them would have been impossible due to the class difference. Mr. Griffiths also called the third section a “waltz” which it is most definitely not (just because it’s in 3/4 time doesn’t make it a waltz).

The clever G-flat which is introduced into the opening melody in measure twenty (enharmonically F-sharp) sets up the key relations of the two inner sections, so we have F minor-F-sharp minor-F sharp minor-sinking back down to F minor. Schubert has been so often patronized as a composer that most people don’t realize how much motivic continuity he loaded his mature works with, enabling him to create vast structures that hold together.

The Dichters gave a very well-coordinated, unsentimental reading of the Fantasy, with Cipa playing primo. She certainly could not have wanted for a more considerate partner in her husband, whose balances were preternaturally sensitive. I wished for more lingering over certain moments, especially fermatas, which were minimized. There was also a lack of “big” dynamic contrasts: the pp and ff in the central section of the third “movement” and elsewhere often sounded the same. This led to a reduction in the mystery and fatality of the piece, which for me is central. One should feel emotionally devastated after a rendition of this work.

They followed with an appropriately raucous, perhaps even reckless, joyously rhythmic performance of Bernstein’s transcription for two pianos of Aaron Copland’s El Salón México, named for a nightclub but based on assiduously collected material. The Dichters’ flair for dialogue between the two instruments was in full display, aided by the clever and faithful arrangement.

After intermission, Misha took the stage for his solo portion of the program, opening with two of Scriabin’s more lyrical etudes, one each from Op. 42 and Op.8. These were delivered with melting clarity and the sort of restraint that purged them of the sometimes overheated “purple” quality with which many artists often fill them. It was refreshing indeed.

Mr. Dichter’s major offering of the evening was the middle of the last three sonatas of Schubert, the A major, D. 959. There is nothing “enigmatic” about either the tonality or the half-step, which figures large in this work—revealed in every possible light, it gives Schubert maximum mobility to explore remote key areas, as Alfred Brendel said, “with the assurance of the sleepwalker.”

Mr. Dichter is a “big view” pianist, who I feel sometimes lets his virtuosity run away with him when more contemplation would be nice. On this occasion, just when I was starting to get antsy, he would then do something so angelic that it brought tears to my eyes. For example, the return of the lonely wanderer theme in the second movement, after the “breakdown” section (which, Mr. Griffiths, is not a cadenza!), was heart-stopping. He also handled the multiple remote-key visionary “farewells” in the Rondo finale beautifully. Elsewhere, tempi were pushed, which led to some inaccuracy, dynamic contrasts weren’t maximized (as in the Fantasy above), and a sense of discovery was lacking. The fact that all the movements were played attacca didn’t help, one scarcely had time to consider what had preceded. Don’t get me wrong, this is a valid interpretation, it might not be to everyone’s liking, but the audience went wild.

Mr. Dichter then offered two encores: the Berlioz/Liszt Rákóczi Marsch (from La Damnation de Faust, borrowed by Berlioz from a Gypsy fiddler). This was a white-hot romp through one of Mr. Dichter’s specialties, Liszt. He roared and glittered as I imagine the piano lions of old did, and people respond to speed and volume.

This was followed by Schumann’s Romanze Op. 28, No. 2, in F-sharp major, which again was very unsentimental, even hurried. I feel he missed the opportunity to vary the voicing in the repeat of the first section (it is a love duet, after all), unusual in a student of Rosina Lhevinne. No matter, Mr. Dichter proved that he still owns the keyboard, and I wish him many more years of fruitful artistry.

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

Distinguished Concerts International New York (DCINY) presents Perpetual Light In Review

Distinguished Concerts Orchestra; Distinguished Concerts Singers International

James M. Meaders, DCINY conductor; Jean-Sébastien Vallée, guest conductor

Maribeth Crawford, soprano; Cecelia Stearman, mezzo-soprano; Shawn Mlynek, tenor; Patton Rice, bass

Stern Auditorium at Carnegie Hall, New York, NY

February 19. 2018

Distinguished Concerts International New York (DCINY), now in their 10th season, has made the “themed concert” a staple of their programming. A particular favorite of DCINY is a format featuring two requiems, either introducing a newer work with one of the classics, or both being well known and well-loved offerings. On this occasion, the latter combination was used. In a concert entitled Perpetual Light, the Requiems of Mozart and Duruflé were to be featured. The Distinguished Concerts Singers International personnel hailed from California, Louisiana, Mississippi, Oregon, Tennessee, Virginia, Wyoming, Canada, Germany, The Netherlands, and the United Kingdom, and also included individual singers from elsewhere around the globe.

Mozart’s Requiem in D minor, K. 626 has a storied history. Commissioned by Count Franz von Walsegg as a memorial to his late wife, it was unfinished by Mozart at the time of his death in 1791. His student Franz Xaver Süssmayr completed the work, relying on various sketches as well as his own assumptions of familiarity with Mozart’s wishes for the composition. How much of the work is Mozart versus how much is Süssmayr is still being debated to this day, but this a task best left to the musical forensics experts.

James M. Meaders took the podium to conduct. His approach was assured, but with what seemed to be a special emphasis on restraint. The “fire and brimstone” that abounds in this work never became overblown. It simmered under the surface, which made the listener feel as if a soul were in the balance and that Heavenly Judges were weighing the evidence with the utmost severity. Mr. Meaders proved to be a musician who understands that Mozart has provided all the drama necessary – it was all very compelling. One was left with the uneasy feeling at the end that judgment was still forthcoming. This listener found it all quite gripping.

Some words of praise for the soloists, both as individuals and as an ensemble, are in order here. Soprano Maribeth Crawford sang with a soaring brilliance. Mezzo-soprano Cecelia Stearman’s lovely voice delighted. Tenor Shawn Mlynek sang with striking projection, and bass Patton Rice’s strong voice was appropriately imposing. One must not forget the (unnamed) trombone soloist in the Tuba Mirum for her flawless playing.

After intermission, guest conductor Jean-Sébastien Vallée took to the podium to conduct the Requiem, Op. 9, of French organist, pedagogue, and composer, Maurice Duruflé (1902-1986). Modeled after Gabriel Fauré’s Requiem, this serene work is the polar opposite of the Mozart. It is devoid of some of the fearsome elements of the requiem mass and omits the Dies Irae. While I am continually awestruck by the genius of Mozart’s work, I feel that Duruflé’s conception is more in the spirit of a final mass that is asking for a peaceful eternal rest.

Mr. Vallée took an expansive approach, bringing out all the beauty that abounds in this wonderful work. He was a passionate leader, with sweeping gestures to the large chorus to exhort them to “sing to the heavens.” His approach was to pay off handsomely. This listener counts this work among his favorite Requiems and was enthralled with this performance. There is so much to praise that I will limit myself to a favorite – it is always a thrill to hear the bold Domine Jesu Christe burst forth with its majesty.

Mezzo-soprano Cecelia Stearman’s Pie Jesu was stunningly beautiful, and the power of bass Patton Rice’s voice filled the hall in the Libera Me.

As the final notes of the In Paradisum faded to silence, the judgment was rendered and the doors of Heaven opened. The silence in the hall held for a moment as if the audience felt this great relief before bursting into a standing ovation. Congratulations to all!

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

SubCulture presents Ian Hobson: Sound Impressions: The Piano Music of Claude Debussy & Maurice Ravel in Review

Ian Hobson, piano

SubCulture, New York, NY

February 7, 2018

Ian Hobson continued with the third of his six-concert complete presentation of Debussy and Ravel works for solo piano, and on this occasion it struck me that his spirit was much more aligned with the material than it had been back in November. He created many ravishing moments, mainly due to his excellent fleet technique. My “wish list” for him would be that he explore the pianissimo (and lower) dynamics more—I didn’t feel like I really heard enough utterly soft sounds; and that he take more time, don’t push every tempo (this I had said previously). Where this need for speed succeeded brilliantly however, was in the final piece of the Images triptych: Mouvement (which is French for tempo, after all!). This was given a wonderful clear reading, and the whole-tone “disappearance” at the end was stunning.

The hall was full, so word is getting around what an achievement this cycle is, and the average age of the audience was substantially lower than one customarily sees at “classical concerts.”

The recital opened with two (of the six) pieces commissioned by the Revue musicale to be composed on the musical spelling of the name HAYDN: 1909 was the Haydn death centenary year. A fine rendition of Ravel’s poignant Menuet, with all its clever permutations of the name (upside down and backward), preceded Debussy’s Hommage, a wistful melancholy waltz followed by a scherzo-like dash, all using the name theme. Mr. Hobson followed this with Ravel’s groundbreaking Jeux d’eau, which when performed by the composer for his fellow-Apache artist group was described as “iridescent fire.” The title is often mistranslated as The Fountain, but really means Water Games, or The Play of Water. The manuscript bears an epigram by one of Ravel’s favorite authors, Henri de Régnier: “Dieu fluvial riant de l’eau qui le chatouille…” (River god laughing as the water tickles him), and Ravel was very strict with his few piano students about the piece sounding happy and playful, never sad. Mr. Hobson dispatched it very well in all its glory.

Then came one of the beloved “early” Debussy works, the famous Rêverie, which wasn’t quite dreamy enough for my taste.

A major work of Ravel was next: the Valses nobles et sentimentales, a suite of seven waltzes and an epilogue, inspired by certain sets of Schubert dances. It was premiered at a notorious “anonymous” concert in 1911, at which all the names of the composers were blacked out on the program, and the audience had to guess whose work was whose. Even Ravel’s previously ardent supporters had a hard time recognizing the author of the Valses, so obsessively was the work focused on strong dissonances. Ravel himself, when describing the piece, always analyzed it in straightforward harmonic terms with “passing notes.” The brash opening (which must have seemed really radical, with Sacre du printemps still two years off) was beautifully conveyed by Mr. Hobson. I wish the “sentimentales” had been more leisurely. The seventh waltz, described by Ravel as the “most characteristic,” lacked lift and lilt. There seemed to be quite a few errors or memory lapses- audiences really need to know what a high-wire act being a pianist is!

The evening closed with the two major Debussy groups: Images (first book) and Suite bergamasque. Reflets dans l’eau craved more pianissimi, but the fluidity was perfect. Hommage à Rameau was appropriately regal and somber, and as I mentioned above, Mouvement was perfection. Three of the four movements of the Verlaine-inspired Suite have been overshadowed by the once-ubiquitous Clair de lune, which is a shame, since they are excellent. The Prélude was a bit hectoring, lacking delicacy, but the Menuet was beautifully crisp, if too loud, in Mr. Hobson’s hands. He avoided the trap of over-sentimentalizing the Clair de lune, and his Passepied was very good.

This cornucopia of French variety passed by in a too-quick hour, and we look forward to his next installment on February 28, 2018.

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

Wang & Tang Arts Promotion, LLC, presents Karwendel Artists Gala Concert in Review

Sven Stucke (Music Director) and Xi Wang (General Director), violins; Julia Yang, cello; Mika Sasaki, piano; Karwendel Music Festival Alumni: Jennifer Ahn, Maki Omori, Akbike Algi, and Linda Guo, violins, with Eric Malson, piano.

Well Recital Hall at Carnegie Hall, New York, NY

January 31, 2018

Karwendel is a festival only two years old, located in the impossibly picturesque Bavarian Alps in a village called Mittenwald. If you were intrepid and got just a bit lost on a hike, you could easily find yourself over the border in Austria. Few people know that Mittenwald was also a center of stringed instrument building, rivaling the better-known Cremona. Despite their rather vague, high-flown mission statement: “to extend the impact of classical music on society,” they put on an effective, often exciting concert last night.

The concert began with a violin duo arrangement of two Chinese folk tunes, played expertly by the music director, Sven Stucke, and the general director, Xi Wang, who was also the arranger. Ms. Wang displayed her spot on accuracy in the highest violin positions in the first piece, Bird Song. It’s a shame we didn’t get to hear any more from her on this occasion.

Four of the festival’s recent best alumnae were then presented, each in a showy work. Jennifer Ahn muscled her way through Wieniawski’s famous Polonaise with great technical poise and accuracy, but her account lacked charm and ease, the sort with which the greatest players seem to be merely sporting with the material. Maki Omori was more successful, with a fine rendition of Fritz Kreisler’s Recitativo and Scherzo for unaccompanied violin. Akbike Algi gave a sultry performance of the Frolov medley from Gershwin’s Porgy and Bess. Finally, Linda Guo wowed the hall with her Carmen Fantasy by Waxman. This showed not only technical mastery, but somehow managed to convey the emotions of the original opera through color changes and phrasing. The collaborative pianist for all four was Eric Malson, who was always supportive, but sometimes seemed to be struggling technically, and definitely needed a page turner.

After intermission came the Mount Everest of the piano trio literature, Tchaikovsky’s Piano Trio, an epic lament on the death of his close friend, Nikolai Rubinstein, Russian pianist, conductor, and composer. This work was almost “not” created, for Tchaikovsky famously detested the sound of piano and solo strings. He could only abide the piano in a concerto or as total background in accompanying. Shall we say he overcame the issue quite enduringly? For me, the stunning find of the evening was the cellist in this performance: Julia Yang. She invested every single tone of her part with heartbreak and emotional intensity, even seemingly innocuous accompanying patterns. This is to take nothing away from her two partners: Mr. Stucke on violin and Mika Sasaki on piano. Every phrase was carefully worked out, the pacing was satisfying. There is a lot of heroic loud playing, but the ear never tired. They took the standard large cut in the final variation/finale, which is certainly forgivable from an endurance standpoint, but does amputate the sonata-form, and when you can play the piece this well, why not do it? Mr. Stucke was excellent in the busy violin part, bringing poignancy and detail to every phrase. Ms. Sasaki was completely, astonishingly, on top of every insane technical demand in this killer piano part, and she often played with beautiful lyricism in the middle to softer dynamics. I wish someone would teach younger pianists that they can play loudly without a harsh tone, however. I was missing warmth and roundness of tone. Perhaps one can blame the house piano in Weill Hall, though it all depends on who is sitting in front of it—I’ve heard magic emanate from it too. It is truly admirable for such a young group to have this work under their belts now; if they stay together, I’m certain they will continue to add layers of meaning to this already fine performance.

All in all, something really good is happening in those Bavarian Alps, so keep it up Karwendel!

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

CD Review: “Kid Stuff” – Soli for Piano with Percussion Orchestra

McCormick Percussion Group; Robert McCormick, Director; Eunmi Ko, piano;

Music of John Liberatore, Seunghee Lee, Hilary Tann, Ciro Scotto, and Matt Barber

Ravello Records, LLC, an imprint of Parma Recordings LLC, 2018

RR7997

Recorded at the Springs Theatre in Tampa, Florida

Recording Engineer, John Stephan; Executive Producer, Bob Lord

“Kid Stuff” is an intriguing new percussion ensemble CD just released on the Ravello Records label and featuring performances by the McCormick Percussion Group under Robert McCormick with pianist Eunmi Ko. The disc is named after the longest work on it, Kid Stuff (composed 2015-17, subtitled Five Figments for Piano and Percussion) by composer Matt Barber (b. 1980), but the CD also contains four substantial compositions by composers John Liberatore, Seunghee Lee, Hilary Tann, and Ciro Scotto.

Though the subtitle of this disc, Soli for Piano with Percussion Orchestra, may set the listener up for something along the lines of the most notable piano-percussion compositions, such as Bartók’s Concerto for Two Pianos and Percussion, this disc favors much more heavily the ensemble instruments, often treating the piano as simply part of the group or even submerging its sounds amid the percussive textures of the marimba, xylophone, and other instruments.

Such an aesthetic is understandable in this case, as the McCormick Percussion Group is, on its own, a virtuoso ensemble with superb synchronization and the ability to realize highly complex scores. That said, piano soloists spend much of their lives striving for long legato lines or at least the illusion of such, and – without engaging in that age-old debate about whether piano should be categorized as a percussion instrument – movements where such piano lines came to the fore emerged as high points for this reviewer.

This Light That Pours from the four movements, This Living Air (2015), by John Liberatore was one such high point. It is a movement inspired by the poem of the same name by Garrett Brown (as are the other three movements, For Scraps of Manna, Mandrake, and It is not the Mold), and through Liberatore’s sensitive writing, the poem’s subject comes to life. From the movement’s quiet opening, pianist Eunmi Ko establishes a contemplative mood and luminous tone, gaining color and resonance through the percussion ensemble’s delicate shadings. It is a hauntingly beautiful performance. The remaining three movements of the Liberatore set are engaging in their own way – brimming with infectious patterns and brilliantly rhythmic writing – though pride of place still goes to The Light That Pours.

Considering this reviewer’s piano predilections, it may not be surprising that another highlight of this disc is a movement that borrows heavily from the Berceuse in D-flat major, Op. 57 of Frédéric Chopin, the fourth piece of Matt Barber’s Kid Stuff, entitled Cuddleys. Inspired by the composer’s infant twin daughters and a quotation from James Joyce’s Finnegan’s Wake (“what chance cuddleys…”), it is an ingenious melding of some of Chopin’s lullaby (now in G major) with the “thousands of new stimuli” that confront a vulnerable infant, all represented in the artfully “random” percussion accompanying the rocking piano part. Here is another “keeper” for this reviewer. Surrounding this movement are the playful and fantasy-filled explorations of Chimera, Night Owl, Quench, and, perhaps the most playful of all, Goofball. Each one, in its own way, reflects a fertile compositional imagination, and each is dazzlingly performed by pianist and ensemble alike.

The balance of the CD is made up of three quite different works, Pung-Kyung (2016) by Seunghee Lee, Solstice (2013) by Hilary Tann, and Dark Paradise (2016) by Ciro Scotto. Each maximized the performers’ special qualities in different ways.

Pung-Kyung, a word which the composer tells us has two meanings – both scenery and wind chime – is an apt title for this exploration of percussive tone painting. As Ms. Lee states, she uses some “repetitive yet unpredictable patterns of Korean traditional music” in evoking the mysterious lushness of an imagined Korean countryside. Timbral “images” suggest intermittent rains, rivers, sudden movements, and other fluctuations one recognizes in all nature but with a particularly exotic atmosphere here. It was good to hear such an idiomatic piano part, surely reflective of the composer’s background as pianist. One can imagine this piece finding itself welcome on many programs.

Dark Paradise, one of the lengthier works on the CD (at 13:06), is perhaps best described by its composer, Ciro Scotto, who writes that it “evokes a trip to an alien world that is simultaneously enticing but fills one with anxiety, stable and unstable, familiar and unfamiliar, and perhaps darker than earth.” Running the gamut of percussive techniques and instruments, with the pianist Eunmi Ko playing claves and crotales as well as the piano, the piece creates quite a sonic journey!

Solstice, by Welsh-born Hilary Tann, is the one duo on the CD, a pairing of pianist Eunmi Ko with marimbist Michael Skillern. An involved and imaginative work based on the writing of Adirondack woodswoman, Anne LaBastille, it is divided into the sections White Pines, Lilypad Lake, and Kestrel, bookended by preludes to spring and winter. Piano and marimba are perfectly paired here in the evocation of icy and woodsy tones, full of timbral variety and yet remarkably unified by these two fine players.

All in all, this CD makes a fascinating collection. For its important new contributions to the percussion repertoire and the sheer expertise in performance, it seems destined to become a staple in the libraries of percussion aficionados at the very least. A number of the works here may also reach a much wider audience as well.

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

Distinguished Concerts International New York (DCINY) presents the Music of Sir Karl Jenkins in Review

Distinguished Concerts Orchestra; Distinguished Concerts Singers International

Jonathan Griffith, DCINY Artistic Director and Principal Conductor

Sir Karl Jenkins, composer-in-residence

Diana McVey, soprano; Katherine Pracht, mezzo-soprano; Brian Cheney, tenor; Stephen Lancaster, baritone; Imam Chernor Saad Jalloh, Call to Prayer Soloist

Stern Auditorium, Carnegie Hall, New York, NY

January 15, 2018

In what has become a tradition marking the commemoration of Martin Luther King, Jr. Day, Distinguished Concerts International New York (DCINY) presented a concert featuring the music of Sir Karl Jenkins on January 15, 2018. This year’s version included two works, The Armed Man: A Mass for Peace, and the World Premiere of Sing! The Music was Given, commissioned by DCINY in celebration of their tenth anniversary. To add to the excitement, the performance was broadcast live on DCINY’s Facebook page (the live feed of the concert can be seen here: DCINY Facebook page). With singers from Hawaii, North Carolina, Wyoming, Germany, Ireland, Isle of Man, Japan, The Netherlands, Norway Switzerland, United Kingdom, and individual singers from around the globe on hand to give it their all, the stage was set for an extravaganza. The evening was one of profound emotion and unbridled joy.

Maestro Jonathan Griffith took the podium for the first half’s only work, The Armed Man: A Mass for Peace, with the accompanying film of the same name. I have written extensively about this work and its history in past reviews, so those readers who wish to learn more can follow this link: The Sounds of War and Peace -2013. I know this work very well from many hearings, both live and recorded, so I was especially interested in how this performance would differentiate itself from others and whether my somewhat ingrained expectations would be met. It must be stated that Maestro Griffith has complete mastery of this work, including a razor-sharp synchronicity with the film that continues to impress me as if it were the first time.

This performance had some ragged moments, such as cracked notes in the brass throughout, a shaky start in the Save Me From Bloody Men movement, and a Charge! movement that was at times brilliant and at other times lacking cohesion and clear articulation, making it sound muddy. Despite these mishaps, I found this performance to be profoundly moving, no easy feat considering my familiarity with the work. Perhaps these same mishaps knocked me out of my comfort zone and forced me to listen with fresh ears and rediscover the emotional wallop this work delivers. Special mention goes to cellist Elizabeth Mikhael for her ethereal solo in the Benedictus, and to soprano Diana McVey, mezzo-soprano Katherine Pracht, tenor Brian Cheney, baritone Stephen Lancaster, and Imam Chernor Saad Jalloh for their roles.

After intermission, Sir Karl Jenkins and Jonathan Griffith took the stage for a Question and Answer session about Sing! The Music was Given hosted by WQXR Radio personality Jeff Spurgeon. It took the form of light-hearted banter, and Sir Karl’s modest demeanor and droll humor had the audience roaring in laughter. A few instances: Q – When did you get the idea to write this piece? A – When Jonathan asked me to write it! Q – Have you heard the entire work? A – Yes, Today. I think it’s pretty good, actually.

Maestro Griffith said he asked Sir Karl to write a piece that would become as popular as The Armed Man (which now has been performed over 2000 times – an average of two times a week). Time will tell if that hope is fulfilled.

Sing! The Music was Given is a six or eight-movement work (depending on version- we heard eight movements) for orchestra, chorus, and mezzo-soprano soloist. It takes its name from the poem Sing- sing- Music was given, by Thomas Moore (1779-1852), as the opening movement uses this poem for the text. The second movement, M-U-S-I-C, an acrostic poem, and the third, the Music Matters are set to text by the composer’s wife, Carol Barratt. The dual-meaning “Music Matters” refers not only to the importance of music, but to aspects of it, like counter-melodies and pulse. The fourth movement, Waterfall Music, is set to a haiku by Bashō Matsuo (1644-1694). The fifth (That Music Always Round Me) and sixth movements (Tehillim- Psalm 150) are borrowed from the composer’s Gloria, and are optional (although they were included in this performance). The seventh movement, I’ll Make Music uses texts from Deuteronomy 32:2, Psalm 144:9, and I Chronicles 13:8 as adapted by the composer. Finally, the eighth movement Ukukula Umcolo, take its title from the Zulu words for sing (ukukula) and music (umcolo). The texts and Sir Karl’s program notes can be read here: Program Notes.

One familiar with Jenkins’s works would recognize strong influences from earlier compositions throughout. While not identifying direct quotes, this listener was strongly reminded of parts of The Armed Man, The Peacemakers, Cantata Memoria, Stella Natalis, Adiemus, and the River Queen soundtrack. Of course, Gloria must be included as being directly quoted. In Sing! The Music was Given, Jenkins is the musical equivalent of a master chef using his favorite ingredients to prepare a magnificent feast.

I thoroughly enjoyed Sing! The Music was Given. It is a forty-minute sonic love letter to the listener about the power of music. Highlights were the whimsical Music Matters, with the secondary choir of ten attending to the matters of music, the enchanting Waterfall Music, and the ebullient Ukukula Umcolo.

Maestro Griffith once again proved his unparalleled skill with large forces as he led with a sure hand. Kudos to concertmaster Jorge Ávila for his solos and mezzo-soprano soloist Katherine Pracht. I’ll Make Music, which was simply beautiful, was the highlight of her solos. Congratulations to the chorus, both for being a part of this important occasion and for their fine work.

Sir Karl came to the stage to acknowledge the cheers of the audience. The cheers then erupted into a loud, extended ovation. One can imagine in the future a two-thousandth performance of Sing! The Music was Given and saying, “I was there for the very first.”

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

Tenri Cultural Institute presents Wa Concert Series- The Originality of Greatness: Celebrating Elliott Carter’s 109th Birthday in Review

Charles Neidich, Ayako Oshima, clarinet; Alexi Kenney, violin; Fred Sherry, cello; Lucy Shelton, Amber Evans, sopranos; Mohamed Shams, piano; John Link, musicologist

Tenri Cultural Institute, New York, NY

December 16, 2017

Only a musician with unforced naturalness of phrasing, total command of his instrument, and a puckish humor such as is possessed by Charles Neidich, could make an entire evening of Elliott Carter’s thorny chamber music approachable. He also assembled a team of superlative collaborators—four of the evening’s seven musicians had major experience working with Carter, including close personal friendships. This kind of advocacy is crucial if his music is to stay in the repertoire. Carter died just five years ago, a couple of weeks shy of his 104th birthday, and he was composing virtually up to the end of his long, productive life.

In illuminating remarks by John Link, it became clear that Carter viewed the lion’s share of his music as representing vivid characters. Each note had to be played with the fierce delineation that he had in mind, whether that represented one character with conflicting emotions, or interplay between several characters. Carter did not compose unless he was truly emotionally motivated to do so, even though the popular perception of his output is one of atonality and layers of rhythmic complexity (which are certainly there!). Most of Carter’s works have what I call an “arch” shape, with a satisfying sense of rightness to their endings; although some just end abruptly, like a candle flame being blown out. Carter’s curiosity was relentless, exploring literature, languages, and food with intensity and humor.

Mr. Neidich opened the evening, partnered by the evening’s excellent pianist Mohamed Shams, with the easy-to-take Pastorale, it was the earliest work on the program, showing some of the late-romantic traditions Carter would leave behind definitively. Hiyoku (Two Wings) for two clarinets had Mr. Neidich in duo with his wife Ayako Oshima, also a phenomenal clarinetist, as well as the chef behind the prodigious feasts laid out for all the audiences at these Wa concerts. Their ensemble was understandably perfect. Mr. Shams shone in the Two Thoughts About The Piano solos, the second of which, Caténaires, was a blistering perpetual motion toccata that seemed powered by nuclear energy. Duettino brought together violinist Alexi Kenney and veteran Carter specialist, cellist Fred Sherry (former artistic advisor of the Chamber Music Society of Lincoln Center, founder of Speculum Musicae and Tashi), sharing violent alternations of bowed and plucked notes with equal ferocity.

Another lifelong devotee of the contemporary music world, Lucy Shelton, shared duties with a younger soprano, Amber Evans, in the Poems of Louis Zukofsky. Here, Ms. Shelton’s years of commanding performance showed her total mastery not only of the difficult music, but intelligibility of every word; her attentiveness to the clarinet showed her fabulous attention to detail, while never removing emotion from her often witty presentation. Ms. Evans’ songs had more difficult tessiturae, perhaps that impeded some of the words, but her voice was true and powerful. I’m sure Carter was, as mentioned before, moved by this poetry, but I find that his settings often do “get in the way” of the words, my limitation I’m sure.

After the intermission of this long evening,Mr. Kenney, Mr.Neidich, and Mr. Sherry combined to present the Omaggio a Italo Calvino, as Con leggerezza pensosa was known. These players exude the Carter style with utter naturalness. Then Mr. Neidich played the brief solo Gra, which led me to wonder if the title was the Gaelic word for love. Alexi Kenney was brilliant in the solo violin work Rhapsodic Musings. I regard this as Carter’s answer to Ravel’s Tzigane, and Mr. Kenney’s intonation and style were perfection itself, with every double stop interval of a seventh (and they are cruel!) as pure as one can imagine.

Finally came the staple of Carter’s chamber offerings, the great Sonata for Cello and Piano from 1948 (revised in 1966). This four movement behemoth was dispatched with firm command and a wide variety of colors by Mr. Sherry and Mr. Shams. It doesn’t sound nearly as forbidding as it looks on the page, and even makes sly nods to tonality (heavily disguised) and the old Dies Irae that had so fascinated composers from Berlioz to Liszt and Rachmaninoff. Forgive me, Elliott, for noticing! The work is also cyclic, that is themes from the first movement reappear at the end, adding to the work’s comprehensibility, as did this perfect performance. The enthusiastic audience really hollered its approval after it was over.

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

SubCulture presents Ian Hobson — Sound Impressions: The Piano Music of Debussy & Ravel in Review

Ian Hobson, piano

SubCulture, New York, NY

November 29, 2017

Esteemed pianist Ian Hobson opened his six-concert series of the complete solo piano works of Debussy and Ravel with his first installment on Wednesday at the edgy SubCulture location in New York’s East Village. Having made his reputation with insightful performances of everything from German standards to neglected Romantic masters to contemporary music written specifically for him, he now reveals another aspect of his curiosity: French so-called “Impressionism.” By the way, can we all stop using this term? Debussy and Ravel despised it, for it was applied as a pejorative, borrowed from the visual arts where it was used the same way.

The recital was a success, if one gauged by audience response to this sometimes diffuse music. I feel that it was more of a mixed success. Mr. Hobson inhabited the general atmospheres of all the works very well, with enormous technical fluency, but there were far too many flaws in the presentation: dropped notes, wrong notes, notes that didn’t sound, dynamics ignored, rhythms distorted (I couldn’t really tell if memory problems were perhaps a factor in some of this), and nearly every tempo too fast. Yikes! I’m going to attempt to temper this harsh verdict by saying that he appeared hamstrung by the piano in SubCulture, an inferior small Steinway that managed to sound completely wooden, almost pitchless at times in the bass, and out-of-tune. Please, SubCulture, when presenting an artist of such stature, doesn’t that warrant a full-size concert grand, especially when sonic splendor is a large part of the esthetic of the period of music being played?

Mr. Hobson began with what for me was a bit of a turn-off: “Ravel’s” Menuet in C-sharp minor (1904). I know this has been recorded recently, in pianists’ desperate search to add uniqueness to their Ravel canon, but just because a work is in a composer’s handwriting does NOT make it a work BY that composer. (As was the case for decades with some of Bach’s sacred cantatas now known to be spurious, he was merely copying out other composers’ works for his own use.) In this instance, the Menuet was found on the reverse of a sheet of exercises by Ravel’s composition student Maurice Delage. I have it on very good authority that either (1) Ravel was taking oral dictation from Delage, thus making the piece by Delage, or (2) that he was making fun of Delage’s maladroitness in the lesson, making it “sort of” Ravel. Ravel was such a fastidious technician, certainly in his master period by 1904, and I’m sure he is turning in his grave over this bad piece, which even a casual listen would demonstrate sounds nothing like Ravel at all. Sorry, Ian!

The entire recital was played without intermission, with only a slight pause between Gaspard and the Debussy Préludes. Mr. Hobson followed with a charming account of Debussy’s first surviving work for piano solo: Danse Bohémienne, which Madame von Meck sent to Tchaikovsky for evaluation. Pyotr Ilich said: “Your little Frenchman is charming, but perhaps the piece is a bit too short,” a pithy, accurate observation. Debussy was already demonstrating his unconcern with “development.”

After that came the two well-known and well-worn Debussy Arabesques, so beloved of adult amateur piano students everywhere. They were given a rough rendering that de-emphasized charm in favor of tempo. Most opportunities (in the score) for moins vite, ritenuto, diminuendo, were either not observed or minimally so.

He then gave us a truly unusual miniature, composed for a music magazine competition, called Morceau de concours (1904). It uses two fragments from one of Debussy’s many abortive opera projects, Le Diable dans le beffroi, based on Poe. This was very well played.

Next up were the Images oubliées, three pieces from 1894, portions of which were re-used in later works. These were first published (1 and 2) in the Piano Quarterly in 1977, and they really should be heard more often. The first is marked Lent (mélancolique et doux), but it sounded impatient in Mr. Hobson’s rendition. The second piece “In the tempo of a Sarabande . . .” (which later became the Sarabande in Pour le piano, with harmonic changes), worked its hypnotic magic and was a highpoint of Hobson’s evening for me. The third piece “Some aspects of Nous n’irons plus au bois” (a children’s song, later used in Jardins sous la pluie) was also played effectively, its rapidity uniting well with Mr. Hobson’s strengths.

Now we come to the first true masterpiece of this program, Ravel’s Gaspard de la nuit, “three poems for piano (Ravel’s own designation) after Aloysius Bertrand.” Mr. Hobson’s rippling accompaniment figure at the beginning of Ondine, the spiteful mermaid, was gorgeous, giving me high hopes for the rest of the piece, but in the middle of the first page, he played a notorious misprint where the figure appears to change (but is not supposed to!). I suppose he learned it that way, and such things are very difficult to change. His fluidity (in this ultimate water piece) was still gorgeous throughout, though I wish he had breathed more, and left her little “naked” solo without pedal, as indicated. Le Gibet, the story of the body of a hanged man swaying on the gallows in the red light of the setting sun, with bats bumping into it and insects abounding, simply was way too fast. It could not work its mesmerizing spell of dread at such a tempo. If Ravel had been present, he would have had the same falling out with Mr. Hobson that he did with Ricardo Viñes, over the same piece! Scarbo, the imp who tortures the insomniac by scratching at the bedsheets, bursting into flame, then vanishing, suited Mr. Hobson’s impetuousity. You must have that sort of fearlessness to attempt this monster, and he did. I do wish more details had been audible, and softer dynamics (when indicated) had been observed.

Mr. Hobson closed with the second book of Debussy’s Préludes, which still manage to sound really modern despite a lifetime of study and performance. Again, in terms of atmospheres Mr. Hobson nailed them. But there are so many subtleties that went by the wayside. Let me dwell on the best of his: La puerta del Vino (with brusque oppositions of extreme violence and passionate gentleness), Les fées sont d’exquises danseuses (rapid and light), “General Lavine”-eccentric (one of Debussy’s send-ups of then in-vogue cakewalk), Ondine (playful, less menacing than Ravel’s for sure), Les tierces alternées (really Debussy’s “thirteenth etude”), and Feux d’artifice (with its concluding broken, faraway evocation of La Marseillaise). Hey, that’s a pretty good average, six out of the twelve. What I missed in the others was the same as previously mentioned: whenever the music said Lent, it wasn’t, he seemed in a hurry to get through the material.

Of course, presenting the complete (and complex!) works of these two is a huge project: I hope Mr. Hobson will find the time to breathe more and enjoy the beautiful sounds he is capable of making, and transport his appreciative audiences even farther into the French soul.

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

Distinguished Concerts International New York (DCINY) presents Appalachian Winter: A Bluegrass Christmas in Review

Distinguished Concerts Singers International

Joseph M. Martin, composer/conductor

Dailey & Vincent, special guests

Sue Martin, soprano; Sarah Whittemore, alto; Brad Nix, piano

Stern Auditorium at Carnegie Hall, New York, NY

November 27, 2017

The holiday season is now in full swing. The crowds are out in force, being enticed by all sorts of deals, and for those who want to shop at home, “Cyber Monday” is the game. For a few hours, one could escape this madness and go back to a simpler time, to thoughts of family, love, and the true meaning of the holidays, courtesy of Distinguished Concerts International New York (DCINY). Transforming Carnegie Hall into the heart of Appalachia, DCINY presented a concert entitled Appalachian Winter: A Bluegrass Christmas on November 27, 2017. The concert featured the music of Joseph M. Martin, including the World Premiere of his Rhapsody in Bluegrass, with special guests Dailey & Vincent, and singers from California, Oregon, Texas, Missouri, Massachusetts, Mississippi, Kansas, West Virginia, Iowa, Florida, South Carolina, Indiana, Louisiana, Illinois, New Jersey, Maryland, Virginia, and “individual singers from around the globe. One could feel the energy in the hall as the singers filed onto the stage even before a single note was sung.

Concerts of this crossover type present a challenge for the reviewer, even for one accustomed to such DCINY events. It has always been this reviewer’s belief that it is best to surrender to such an experience and judge it on its own merits, as opposed to making any attempt to offer criticism on conventional classical criteria.

Joseph M. Martin (b. 1959), a DCINY favorite, took the stage to conduct his Appalachian Winter, A Cantata for Christmas. There are ten movements in the work, using traditional choral writing with spirituals, Shaker hymns, rustic Sacred Harp and Appalachian country tunes. Each movement can easily stand on its own independent of the others. Soprano Sue Martin and alto Sarah Whittemore were the featured vocal soloists, and Dailey & Vincent was the consort.

It is beyond the scope of this review to detail each movement, so I will mention what I considered to be the highlights. The Prelude is Copland-esque in its sound, with quotes from “Simple Gifts” woven in throughout, which showed Mr. Martin’s fine hand as both a composer and sonic dramatist at setting the ideal mood. Hope and Expectation was powerful, with a steadfast determination that was brought to life by the two-hundred-plus chorus. The Appalachian sounds of Mountain Carol were both inspired and poignant.

Both Ms. Martin and Ms. Whittemore were exceptional in their solo roles, not only exceptional as singers, but for their stylistic understanding. There were no operatic vibratos or similar effects that would have been so very wrong, but just a crystalline clarity, a humble sincerity, and a child-like innocence that simply enchanted. Jamie Dailey’s distinctive soaring tenor was an added treat, and the ensemble of Dailey & Vincent – to be discussed later – provided colorful Appalachian flair.

After the final movement showstopper Children, Go Tell It on the Mountain ended the audience reacted with a standing ovation. The feeling of energy mentioned at the beginning of this review did not abate even with intermission. It was as if a spring were being coiled for the second half as the buzz in the hall continued throughout the intermission.

Dailey& Vincent kicked off the second half with a short set. Founded by Jamie Dailey and Darrin Vincent, this Grand Ole Opry member, five-time Grammy-winning group ranks among the elite entertainers in bluegrass, gospel, and country music. This was not this listener’s first occasion to hear Dailey& Vincent, so I had some idea what to expect. At this concert, though, there was a little less of the banter –perhaps time was an issue. In any case, these musicians know their craft and bring their considerable talents to the table. I may not be a bluegrass aficionado, but I know good playing when I hear it, and this ensemble is built to play. The other members of Dailey& Vincent are Patrick McAvinue, fiddle, Cory Piatt, mandolin, Jeff Parker, mandolin and vocals, Aaron McCune, guitar and vocals, Jessie Baker, banjo and guitar, Shaun Richardson, guitar, Buddy Hyatt, keyboards, Bob Mummert, percussion, and Scott Bolen, audio engineer. I will single out the a cappella rendition of “Wonderful Grace of Jesus,” with the tight harmonies, and the ground shaking descents into the subterranean bass register, that brought the audience to their feet. After this final set number, Dailey & Vincent gave an encore as they played the chorus members onto the stage.

The stage was now set for the World Premiere of Mr. Martin’s Rhapsody in Bluegrass. Mr. Martin addressed the audience to talk a bit about how he was approached by DCINY to create this piece. He was humble, gracious, and his winning personality was most apparent in his self-effacing humor. His quip about his hometown being so small that the 7-11 was a “3-and-a-half” even made this oh-so-serious reviewer roar in laughter!

Scored for choir and bluegrass consort, the forty-five-minute, nine-movement Rhapsody in Bluegrass is stylistically similar to Appalachian Winter. Mr. Martin even refers to the Rhapsody as a seasonal cantata in his notes. Also similar is that each movement can stand alone without any loss of effect, although there is a certain continuity in each movement as to propel the story. Ms. Martin and Ms. Whittemore returned as featured vocal soloists, and once again their beautiful voices and intelligent grasp of style were every bit in evidence in their winning performances. Mr. Martin hit the nail squarely on the head when he said DCINY “picked the right man” for this work. Rhapsody in Bluegrass is a welcome and much-needed addition to the holiday music canon.

In the final movement, A Little Light Was Born, all the stops were pulled out in a big finish. Every member of Dailey & Vincent had an extended solo that built up the excitement to a fever pitch. The audience could no longer restrain themselves and leapt to their feet in a standing ovation while the last notes were sounded. It was a joyous reaction to a wonderful evening. Congratulations to DCINY, Mr. Martin, Dailey & Vincent, and all performers for this gift of music!

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