Winners: Pianists Claire Li, Olivia Li, Eunha Basu, Olivia Tianqing Ye, John Samuell, Edward Hikaru Neems, and Antonio Alessandri

Bezanquen Hall at the DiMenna Center for Classical Music, New York, NY

July 27, 2025

As Beethoven famously remarked, Johann Sebastian Bach should be called not “brook” [as Bach’s name means in German], but “sea” to convey his inexhaustible gifts. As most musicians know, a lifetime can be spent studying Bach’s works without even approaching its breadth and depth. It is thus especially heartening that, thanks to the Rosalyn Tureck International Bach Competition (TIBC), there is an increasing incentive for the next generation of talented young pianists to explore the range of Bach’s entire keyboard output. Last week, seven young winners of the 8th TIBC demonstrated just that in their Gala Winners Concert at the DiMenna Center for Classical Music.

Founded and directed superbly by pianist Golda Vainberg-Tatz to honor her mentor, the renowned Bach interpreter Rosalyn Tureck (with Dr. Tureck’s blessing shortly before she passed away in 2003), the TIBC has now taken place in 2008, 2010, 2013, 2015, 2017, 2019, 2022, and 2025 just this July. This reviewer has heard and been assigned to review several of the competition’s recitals, and they all were impressive; the level of this 8th TIBC, however, seemed to reach new heights. The performances of the seven young winners were astonishingly polished and compelling – and thankfully, even with a scheduling conflict, this reviewer could see and hear them all via live video via YouTube (8th TIBC Winners) and on audio recordings.

As there are many details to process and seven pianists to discuss, we’ll dive right into the performances, but to learn more about the history of the TIBC, the reader may visit its website TIBC, and also read the competition booklet available there for information on the participants and jury members.

To start, we heard Claire Li, age 11 playing Bach’s Fantasia in C minor, BWV 906  (Category 1: Short Preludes and Fugues). She showed remarkable poise and focus even before starting, sitting quietly beforehand to gather inspiration. The preparation paid off, as her performance was reliable , rhythmic, and robust. The Fantasia is a complex one for such a young player, but it gave her a chance to exploit her impressive independence of lines between the two hands. Only one very minor distraction during the repeat of the second section threatened to diminish her focus, but she stayed on track like a professional.

The next pianist, Olivia Li, played the Sinfonia No.11 in G minor, BWV 797 (Category 2: Inventions and Sinfonias). The listing of her as “age 8” gave this listener a brief double-take, but then again, the competition’s early categories allow for age 8 (and more advanced categories through age 28); her playing, however, caused another double-take, as she showed the control and expressiveness of a musician far beyond her years. She played with a singing tone, perfectly tapered phrases, and beautifully gauged ritardandi. Ordinarily for such a young player, a teacher might have opted for one of the more accessible Inventions – or even might have stayed within the Category 1 repertoire – but clearly someone sees her as exceptional, and she is. This piece gave her opportunities for marking phrases in an expressive way – and these surely set her apart as a winner.

The older participants deserved special kudos for walking onstage to play after such cherubic little wunderkinder who may not even have learned yet what nerves are. In addition, what was already a good half-hour wait through speech-making (before the first notes were played) grew longer with each performance. Especially in view of this format, all of the winners deserved kudos.

The next pianist was Eunha Basu, age 15 (Category 3: Well-Tempered Clavier, Preludes and Fugues), who played the Prelude and Fugue in G minor, BWV 885, from Book II. Seemingly unfazed by the waiting or anything else, she dove into her music with poise and assurance. She played with an authority that was vehement but – refreshingly – never harsh. She simply inhabited the music, with thoughtful control of dynamics and excellent layering of parts. Her four-voice fugue was masterfully projected, reflecting a clear understanding of its structure through skilled voicing and articulations.

Another remarkable 11-year-old pianist came onstage next, Olivia Tianqing Ye (winner in the Category 4/A of Suites and also the Contemporary category). She played the Sarabande and Gigue from the English Suite No.5 in E minor, BWV 810, both revealing astonishing maturity. She showed a genuine sensitivity to the Sarabande‘s long lines, artfully delineating its phrases and ornamenting it judiciously on repeats. The very athletic Gigue of this suite has such leaps and chromaticism that it can be awkward even just for a listener to grasp, but Ms. Ye made short work of that as well. If she were an adult musician, one might say that she turned it into child’s play, but in this case she is, in fact, a child – so how can one describe such utterly natural facility?

Still more astonishing was young Ms. Ye’s rendition of Lowell Liebermann’s Nocturne No. 4, Op. 38,  which she played next. She established its eerie hypnotic feeling from the start with her steady repeated figures in the left hand against a crystalline voice in the right. As it developed, she handled its growing technical challenges with amazing ease for one so young and built to a powerful – and beautifully controlled –  climax. One had to keep reminding oneself that she is just 11.

After the high drama of the preceding Liebermann piece, it could seem anticlimactic to present the rather spare textured and cerebral Duetto BWV 804, but it was performed with such conviction and musical understanding by Edward Hikaru Neems, age 14 (Category 5 – Assorted works) that one almost forgot what preceded it. His clarity of voicing and clear delineation of themes captured the listener, and his movements from the main statements through the lighter episodic sections always conveyed a sense of musical narrative. As excellent as young Mr. Neems was, one would have loved to hear his more extended offerings, including Bach’s Aria variata alla maniera italiana, BWV 989 and some Preludes of Robert Muczynski. Alas, time limits!

Similarly commanding was John Samuell, age 13  (Category 6: Assorted works), playing the Toccata in C minor, BWV 911. He projected a vivid sense of the character of the different sections and allowed each one to unfold with inevitability. The fugal sections thrived on his excellent control and brilliant fingerwork. He is a formidable musician for one so young, and it was thus not a surprise upon reading his biography to learn that he is also a budding composer and highly credentialed organist. One looks forward to hearing more from him. In addition to winning the Rosalyn Tureck Prize in his category he was also awarded the Kern Foundation “Aspiration” Award.

Last but not least we heard Antonio Alessandri, age 19, playing excerpts from the Goldberg Variations (Category 8). He played the Aria, Variations 1, 2, 3, 4, 28, 29, 30, and the return to the Aria (so basically the beginning and end of the piece, as time limits dictated). Well on his way to an active career, young Mr. Alessandri already recorded his debut album of these variations in 2024, and his performance of several excerpts served as a tantalizing invitation to hear them in their entirety. Though it is always frustrating to hear this work in an abbreviated version, one could certainly hear glimpses of every quality it requires, from a sensitivity to the hallowed feeling of the Aria, to the emotional range of the subsequent variations and the control of a wide variety of dynamics, articulations, and fingerwork to project that range. Of course judging the pianist’s conception of the work as a cohesive whole was simply not possible here, but what we heard of Mr. Alessandri’s artistry certainly bodes well. One quality that stood out was his rhythmic expressivity, particularly his use of agogics in poignant moments. He is a very special pianist. Along with winning the Rosalyn Tureck Prize in his category, he won the TIBC’s Dame Myra Hess Recital Award and its Evgeny Kissin Grand Prize/Steinway Award.

Congratulations go out to all the winners and to all those who contributed to this important cultural event. It has been a joy to watch it develop over the years and become more and more refined in each detail. One can hardly imagine it growing still further in its next edition, but it will be worth the wait to see and hear! Bravi tutti!

Jungwon Sun, piano

Weill Recital Hall at Carnegie Hall, New York, NY

June 24, 2025

The enormous program offered by pianist Jungwon Sun at Weill Recital Hall on the evening of June 24, 2025 was originally slated to be even more enormous. Ms. Sun’s impressive repertoire is vast enough for her to have replaced Beethoven’s 32 Variations in C Minor with the late Sonata Op. 101 in A major, Liszt’s Sonata in B minor with the Paraphrase on Rigoletto, and Barber’s Piano Sonata with Persichetti’s Sonata No. 6, while preserving Ravel’s fiendishly difficult La Valse. (This brings to mind Ruth Laredo’s recital years ago at the Maryland Piano Festival, with hundreds of eager fans primed to hear Barber’s Sonata, when Ms. Laredo spontaneously substituted La Valse as the evening’s closing piece.)  Barber’s monumental absence notwithstanding, the preferred cornucopia here showed off Ms. Sun’s significant capabilities, as well as her eclectic tastes.

Harpsichord sonatas by the Baroque Italian-Spanish Domenico Scarlatti have been grouped fashionably in pairs since 1953, when Ralph Kirkpatrick renumbered the 555 or so essercizi to reflect newly discovered evidence of their chronology and almost certain juxtaposition. D minor, in the case of the spiritually demanding, melancholy K. 213, probably would have led to a romping Allegro vivo D major, K. 214 (although modern performers are free to experiment with other combinations). Ms. Sun chose to introduce her concert with two delicate, tender gems, though unrelated, in D minor, which she presented in an ingratiating and flowing manner. Eschewing the profound in favor of a more lucid pastoral charm, she brought the eighteenth century into the nineteenth with her “inverted mordent” realization of Scarlatti’s trills and the omission of one or both formal repetitions, perhaps as a time-saver for the larger works to come.

In place of the expected Haydn or Beethoven which might have appeared after a Scarlatti appetizer in an old-fashioned New York recital, we were treated to the compact Sixth Sonata (of twelve) by the American Vincent Persichetti, a pillar of the composition scene for over four decades whose music is still far too underplayed. Ms. Sun shines in this Neoclassical terrain and relishes its precision with palpable gusto. The first movement (marked Lightly) chatters up top with run-on dotted rhythms informed neither by the obsessive Romantic Schumann nor by 1940s swing, although Persichetti must have loved both. Ms. Sun brought out just the right bends in tempo while maintaining a delightful sense of humor. Free of resistance, the second movement (Slowly) wends along plaintively, ignoring stable tonal centers as it piles up diatonic harmonies in a pyramid of good-natured fun, like a classic children’s tale. We soon realize that the composer’s joke is on himself, as he marks the third movement Blandly, seemingly instructing the player to navigate compound meter sighs and long treble melismas without emotion—but the game pianist took on the task cleverly and amiably, reserving steam for the fourth movement (Fast) soon to unleash Persichetti’s characteristic whirlwind of colorful passagework. Ms. Sun’s disciplined rhythm allowed us to hear every detail of syncopation and every catch breath.

This is a fine occasion to celebrate Maurice Ravel’s 150^th birthday, and Ms. Sun rounded out the first half of her surprisingly well-proportioned recital with a timely insertion of Ravel’s most popular work (according to the site bachtrack.com, in 2022 La Valse was the most frequently performed classical piece across the globe). Conceived as a symphonic poem and composed in 1919–20, vaguely alluding to the dissolution of Viennese high society (Ravel denied any foreshadowing of European anarchy despite the Great War), the piece was commissioned for the Ballets Russes by Serge Diaghilev, who then refused to choreograph it, calling it a “portrait of ballet.” The composer furnished transcriptions for two pianists and for one, but these keep company with arrangements by manifold artists as diverse as Glenn Gould, Yuja Wang, and Master Sgt. Donald Patterson of the U.S. Marine Band.

The first decision facing any pianist aspiring to play the piece is whether to attempt one of the extant versions or to tinker with them and synthesize something new. As Ms. Sun’s program did not include printed remarks other than her extensive credentials, it is difficult to comment on the edition used, but one cannot argue with one’s own ears, and this performance was the ultimately satisfying result of years of preparation. Ms. Sun knows her strengths: rhythmic construction, accuracy, flexible lines, and transparency of shading; and confidently projects her choices in sound. The swirling mists of Ravel’s annotation would have tended in lesser hands to devolve into chaos, but Ms. Sun succeeded in creating a veritable tsunami of texture while imagining a decadent and infectious 1855 ballroom dance.

Having given her all in the Ravel, Ms. Sun might have called it a night and sent everyone home singing, but the second half held new surprises. A deft touch of aural planning took us not to a typical Chopin nocturne at this point but to the surreal inner thoughts of Benjamin Britten, who composed his Notturno as a set piece for the first Leeds Piano Competition in 1963. The spooky processional quality of the droning bass superimposed with percussive eruptions and Bartókian cricket chirps withdraws all hints of comfort from this dark lullaby. Ms. Sun’s tasteful filigree turned appropriately sinister (perhaps even more so than needed) and settled back into character with the approach of consonance at last, the final eerie notes depressed silently before the release of the damper pedal as indicated by the composer.

Tucked into the hidden recesses of the program’s second half, like gold bars under a mattress, was Beethoven’s Sonata Op. 101, once the cornerstone of Carnegie Hall recitals and the subject of troves of musicology. (After Russell Sherman’s recital in 1984, The New York Times wrote that he played as if he had “felt it as a personal benediction from Beethoven.”) Ms. Sun turned in a neat performance, straightforward and clearcut, evincing minimal struggle and generous varnish. We revisited the pastoral style of her second Scarlatti sonata in the opening movement, and the endless dotted rhythms from the Persichetti sonata, now transposed down the piano in jagged blocks, in the second. Ms. Sun’s facility showed itself to full advantage in the fourth movement with its quirky fugue. Again, all repeat signs were deemed optional and bypassed.

Beethoven’s star pupil, Carl Czerny, earned preeminence from his own firebrand, Franz Liszt, who composed the Paraphrase on Rigoletto in 1855, the year portrayed by Ravel in his composition La Valse. The Verdi-Liszt was therefore a familial program closer, and Ms. Sun was at her best in Liszt’s deceptively simple octave runs and light passagework, particularly in his famous cascading “three-hand” effects. The Duke’s quartet opening “Bella figlia dell’amore” held enough D-flat-major bonhomie to assuage Ravel’s malevolent mists, if they were still with us, and to rock Benjamin Britten back to sleep.

University of Michigan Symphony Orchestra

Kenneth Kiesler, conductor

Karen Slack, soprano; Goitsemang Lehobye, soprano; Daniel Washington, bass

Stern Auditoirum at Carnegie Hall, New York, NY

May 30, 2025

We often hear that the state of music education these days is lamentable, with budget cuts and a focus on more “important” programs and such; thankfully, however, this issue has seemingly not impacted music programs at the college level. In fact, there are quite a few college ensembles that are more than able to hold their own in comparison to prominent professional orchestras. The University of Michigan Symphony Orchestra (UMSO) is one of those elite ensembles. Under the baton of Kenneth Kiesler, the UMSO Orchestra took the stage at Carnegie Hall on May 30^th, with a program of Bernstein, Gershwin, William Dawson, and three spirituals. The USMO has just completed a concert tour in South Africa, and the three guest artists on that tour (Goitsemang Lehobye , Karen Slack, and Daniel Washington ) were also featured this evening.  A large and very supportive audience was present to show that Wolverine pride is not just for the football team.

Maestro Kiesler took the podium to open the program with Leonard Bernstein’s On the Waterfront Symphonic Suite. Bernstein’s legendary status as a conductor is so pervasive that one sometimes can forget what an outstanding composer he was as well. The suite is a twenty-minute musical synopsis of the movie itself, with one theme depicting  what Bernstein called Terry Malloy’s “tragic nobility,” another theme for the growing love between Terry and Edie Doyle, and, surrounding these themes, music that evokes the violence of the docks and the gritty urban industrial landscape.

The opening French Horn solo was played with great tenderness and spot-on accuracy. This was an auspicious start – I was holding my breath thinking how many  times cracked notes from other performances have spoiled it all right off the bat. With that danger dispatched with a practiced ease, I could breathe more easily and truly enjoy what one of the more energetic and passionate performances of this suite that I can recall hearing. While Terry’s theme and the love music were poignant, it was the “gritty” that wowed me (and the audience), with the violent bombast given the “no holds barred” approach. It was thrilling, and a great way to open the evening.

Selections from Porgy and Bess, by George Gershwin, followed the Bernstein. I’m not going to wade into the controversies about Porgy and Bess – I’ll  leave that to others.  As for the music itself, many of the songs have become standards in the Great American Songbook.  After a truncated overture, Goitsemang Lehobye sang a languorous Summertime. One could almost feel the lazy haze and stifling heat of a summer day as her voice floated above the torpor. Daniel Washington’s approach to I Got Plenty o’ Nuttin was Porgy declaring his defiant happiness at his lot, embracing his outcast status instead of projecting bitterness. The joy he brought forth was palpable, and one could not help but be drawn in by his infectious enthusiasm. Pair that with his powerful voice, and the effect was complete. Karen Slack wrung every drop of sorrow from My Man’s Gone Now – it was absolutely heartbreaking. Ms. Slack and Mr. Washington joined together to lend their considerable talents to Bess, You is My Woman Now. It captured the bliss that Porgy and Bess were feeling as they declared their love for each other – a moment in time where both were truly happy when happiness was not something either was accustomed to experiencing. Ms. Slack’s and Mr. Washington’s voices filled the hall with divine delight, a climatic ending to the selections. Let’s not forget the UMSO and Maestro Kiesler, who after tearing through the overture with abandon, never once overshadowed the vocalists.

As a “built-in encore,” a shimmering medley from Gershwin’s 1930 musical Girl Crazy ended the first half. The audience roared its approval.

After intermission, we heard the 1934 version of the Negro Folk Symphony by Willam Dawson (1899-1990). Premiered by Leopold Stokowski and the Philadelphia Orchestra in 1934 to critical acclaim (rare for any new American work, but even more so for an African-American composer), it quickly faded into obscurity. Only in the last few years has it been “rediscovered,” and it has received increased attention and more frequent performances.

Negro Folk Symphony is in three movements that combine African-American spirituals with the classical symphonic tradition. One can detect the influence of Dvořák, a composer whom Dawson admired. The three movements are titled The Bond of Africa, Hope in the Night, and O’ Le’ me Shine, Shine Like A Morning Star! For detailed information about the composer and this work, click on the following link: William L. Dawson and Negro Folk Symphony.

This is the work of a highly skilled composer who knew his craft. While I have heard recordings of this work, this is the first time I have heard it in live performance, and it exceeded all my expectations. Maestro Kiesler offered a reading that explored all the spiritual material with a close attention to the subtilties that surround it. The UMSO followed his direction with a precision that was a highlight of the evening for this listener. One can only hope that this work does not disappear from the repertoire again.

After this work, the three spirituals that followed were almost an anti-climax. As they were not intended to be encores, it might have made more sense to open the half with these works instead of at the end.  No disrespect to the singers or the orchestra, who were all outstanding, but this positioning somewhat dulled my enthusiasm.  Ms. Slack and Ms. Lehobye dueted in Witness (arranged by Hale Smith), Mr. Washington sang Deep River (arranged by Carl Davis), and Ms. Slack ended the printed program with You Can Tell the World (arranged by Margaret Bonds). The audience gave all a standing ovation.

Another built-in encore followed the spirituals, as Maestro Kiesler introduced the “guest choir,” which was the orchestra itself. They put their instruments down and rose to sing Bawo Thixo Somandla, an African spiritual sung in Xhosa. As a choir, they are an  excellent orchestra! All kidding aside, it was touching to see and hear. Finally, as is only proper for a college group, Maestro Kiesler led the UMSO in a raucous rendition of The Victors (the Michigan Fight Song), much to the delight of the audience. The ovation was loud and long, a well-earned reward.

Distinguished Concerts Singers International; Distinguished Concerts Orchestra
Martín Palmeri and Jean-Sébastien Vallée, conductors
The Community Concert Choir of Baltimore; Marco K. Merrick, conductor
Warwick Valley High School Symphony and Chamber Orchestra; E’lissa Jones Maynard, conductor

W. Patrick Alston and Gabriel Evans, organ; Marcus D. Smith and Violetta Zabbi, piano;

Rodolfo Zanetti, bandoneón; Bobbi Harris, timpani;

Johnetta Jackson and Madeline Apple Healey, sopranos;

Alejandra Malvino, mezzo-soprano; Robert Brown, tenor; Edmund Milly, baritone

Stern Auditorium, Carnegie Hall, New York, NY

June 8, 2025

Distinguished Concerts International New York (DCINY) concluded their season this weekend with a program entitled “Sanctus x 3” – and though the printed program was voluminous, it could be summarized in three separate sections as its title suggests. First, the Community Concert Choir of Baltimore sang a group of short soulful selections including mostly spirituals and hymns and one Beethoven oratorio movement. Next, as the second segment and centerpiece, came two Masses –  Martin Palmeri’s acclaimed Misatango and Fauré’s magnificent Requiem – performed by the DCINY’s Distinguished Concerts Singers International with the Distinguished Concerts Orchestra. Third and last of all, we heard a set of purely orchestral compositions and arrangements, ranging from Joseph Boulogne (18th century) to current composers, played by the Warwick Valley High School Chamber and Symphony Orchestra (NY).

If just the above paragraph seems unwieldy, it is with good reason. As with many of DCINY ‘s concerts, there were hundreds of performers and a wide range of styles; as usual, however, DCINY was overly generous, and the program (including stage transitions) lasted close to three hours even without any intermission. A presenting business which draws ever greater numbers of people into the magic of making music is certainly to be commended for that – and by all appearances the performers and their families and friends were too busy with flowers and bouquets to look at a clock; that said, if drawing “outside” audience members is a goal, then their experience should be considered as well. An all-you-can-eat buffet is lovely as an option, but not as a requirement, and concert audiences (particularly assigned reviewers) generally commit to staying until the end. Too much of a good thing – with all respect to Mae West – is not always wonderful.

On to the music, the Community Concert Choir of Baltimore did a great job opening the program under the inspired leadership of conductor Marco K. Merrick. Though the spiritual I’ve Been ‘Buked (arr. Hall Johnson) started with almost tentative softness, Maestro Merrick proceeded to draw every drop of energy from his choir. Ain’-a That Good News (arr. William Dawson) was simply bursting with joy. The old favorite Rock a My Soul (arr. Nathan Carter) really did rock, and an unannounced singer from the basses stepped forward to add his impressive falsetto improvisation to the mix. It was a hard act to follow, but Beethoven’s Hallelujah, from Christ on the Mount of Olives, was given a noble spirit, starting with a fine introduction by organist W. Patrick Alston. They followed the Beethoven with a grand rendition of The Lord Is My Light by Frances Allitsen. Soprano Johnnetta Jackson’s superb diction and powerful voice communicated the text even through the heightened dynamics of the choir.

A mood of supplication took hold in the traditional hymn Come Here Jesus, If You Please (arr. Roland Carter), with Marcus D. Smith at the piano. Boldness rebounded in William Runyan’s Great Is Thy Faithfulness (arr. Nathan Carter), with excellent tenor solo singing from Robert Brown and added drama from timpanist Bobby Harris. A finale of Richard Smallwood’s I Love the Lord / Total Praise (arr. Peter Lutkin) brought all forces together with unbridled spirit, drawing cheers and a standing ovation.

It was hard to believe that ahead would be not one but two Masses (and then a strictly orchestral segment) – but as the Community Concert Choir of Baltimore exited the stage, in filed an army of DCINY choristers from Illinois, Indiana, New York, Texas, Virginia, France, Germany, Italy, Netherlands, Ontario, Switzerland, and the UK (and, as the program adds, “individual singers from around the globe”).

We were fortunate enough to hear Martin Palmeri’s Misa a Buenos Aires, subtitled Misatango, with the composer himself conducting the combined DCINY chorus and orchestra. Naturally he conducted with unique authority and the choristers gave their all. Several writers at New York Concert Review have expressed their need to overcome initial doubt about this traditional Latin Mass text (Latin, as in Ancient Rome) being set as steamy tangos (a different kind of “Latin”), but the ingenious writing won the day, as it reportedly has since its Buenos Aires premiere in 1996.  To this reviewer, any misgivings had nothing to do with national flavor but with dance associations, which is why one might also balk at Straussian waltz settings for such canonical material. It was a struggle to rethink the Mass, but worth the effort. The six movements (Kyrie, Gloria, Credo, Sanctus, Benedictus, and Agnus Dei) are a far cry from Mozart or Palestrina, but they are captivating in their intense musical language. Misatango is a boldly individual expression of belief requiring an open-minded listener. One is reminded of the story of the child who announces that he is drawing God – and when a teacher chides him, saying, “we don’t know what God looks like” the child replies, “you will now.”

As with most tango-inspired music, the bandoneónist is vital in Misatango, and Rodolfo Zanetti took on this star role with aplomb. The bass lines in tangos are also crucial, and the DCINY’s lower strings came through as ever. Pianist Violetta Zabbi added gusto with her sweeping glissandi and vibrant support. Last, but definitely not least, special praise is in order for mezzo-soprano soloist Alejandra Malvino who not only has a stunning voice but sensitivity to each harmonic inflection of her fellow musicians. She is a treasure. An enormous ovation followed the work.

If any traditionalists were not enthralled with the newer Mass conception, the Fauré Requiem followed in a much more traditional vein. Though this Fauré masterpiece has always been high on my list of favorite pieces, it was hard to appreciate it here, squeezed into what already felt like a surfeit of riches. No amount of wizardry or speedy stage crews (which there certainly were) could restore to the music the breathing room it needed. Even the excellent conductor, Jean-Sébastien Vallée, who tamed the enormous choral forces with a deft hand, seemed somewhat pressed, as if aware of time constraints. One of casualties, sadly, was the ethereal In Paradisum, which simply felt rushed. (One usually hears just slower than a beat per second for this movement, as marked on most scores, but their tempo was markedly faster.)

On more positive notes, there were some standout performances. Edmund Milly’s baritone lines were both suave and penetrating. Soprano Madeline Apple Healey gave the Pie Jesu a silvery purity with her thoughtfully shaped phrases. Organist Gabriel Evans was given well-deserved special mention in the program booklet, but just as worthy of mention was concertmaster Jorge Ávila who – true to form – made the most of the violin lines as soloist.

It was life-affirming, at the end of two substantial Masses, to hear from the relative youngsters of the Warwick Valley High School Chamber and Symphony Orchestra (NY) – extended concert duration aside.  Conductor E’lissa Jones Maynard led the ensembles with energy and decisiveness. With combined forces of about 87 players, the Warwick Valley High School has done something very right.

The chamber orchestra opened with Dmitri Shostakovich’s Waltz No. 2, a piece popularized in film (notably in Stanley Kubrick’s “Eyes Wide Shut”), heard here in an arrangement by Paul Lavender. The players showed strength and verve. Perhaps the percussion section was a bit too dominant, but there was no question of a solid beat! Featured in excellent melodic lines were violist Angelina Nguyen and cellist Jakob Yon, the latter instrument more prominently.

In a stylistic pivot, the program continued with the first movement of Symphony Concertante in G, Op. 13, No. 2 by Joseph Bologne (1745-1799), as arranged by Sandra Dackow. Bologne, also known as Chevalier de Saint-Georges, composed in a style not unlike Mozart’s, and his music still deserves more recognition than it receives. This arrangement was a joy to hear, and the players did quite well with it.

The first movement of Edouard Lalo’s Symphonie Espagnole followed, in a Todd Parrish arrangement, and the young concertmaster Andrew Redling stepped forward for the solo part, doing a commendable job.

The forces were then expanded from chamber to full symphony for the next work, The Dance Of Iscariot, by Kirt N. Mosier. There were a few raggedy edges, as one might expect from such a large and young ensemble, but they did well overall with this dramatic piece. The concert concluded with the work Gravitas (2024-2025) by Soon Hee Newbold, and it lived up to its title. Newbold’s film score background was definitely evident in its overt drama, and the players seemed to relish its spirit of heroism – the audience as well, giving them a huge ovation. Hats off to E’lissa Jones Maynard and the Warwick Valley High School ensembles, as well as to all who performed in this marathon concert.

Salley Koo, violin

Dawn Dongeun Wohn, violin

Daniel McDonough, cello

Alexander Solomon, piano

Bargemusic, Brooklyn, NY

May 17, 2025

Dari means “bridge” in Korean; this is what Salley Koo, a Korean-American violinist and Professor at the University of Illinois Urbana-Champaign, told us during her recent performance at Bargemusic. Ms. Koo, using funding from the Campus Research Board of the said University, commissioned six Korean composers to write new works for her and her friends (violinist Dawn Dongeun Wohn, cellist Daniel McDonough, and pianist Alexander Solomon) to perform. In fact, as Ms. Koo kindly explained to us, each composer was asked to write two works: one for the performers I’ve mentioned (either solo, or in different combinations) and a companion piece, less challenging musically and technically, for Ms. Koo’s students to learn and hopefully present in concert, alone or side by side with their mentor. This project was meant to “bridge the gap” between Ms. Koo’s self-proclaimed enthusiasm in promoting new music (especially reflecting her heritage) and her students’ reluctance to tackle contemporary repertoire, both in the classroom and on stage. Sadly, on Saturday afternoon – when two performances took place, one at 2:00 pm and another at 4:00 pm – the relatively small audience was treated only to the first category of works (those written for Ms. Koo and her colleagues) while the second category (the pieces written for the students, which presumably had a much more evident educational purpose) were nowhere to be heard. I would have liked to see (and listen to) Ms. Koo perform along with one or two of her disciples these newly commissioned works, and perhaps then I could have better understood the educational value of this project. As it was, the result felt more like a vanity project for Ms. Koo rather than a much-needed and interesting foray into the rewards of exposing the younger generation to fresh and exciting new works.

The audience could find a piece of paper on each seat, prompting us to use a QR code if we wanted more information about the concert, the artists, and the works to be performed. I did so diligently, and the code sent me to the Bargemusic website where, after a bit of online fumbling, I was directed to the calendar of concerts. There I could see the names of the performers and the titles of the works, but nothing else; however, there was a link (which I had to copy and paste into my browser) which sent me to Ms. Koo’s site, where more details could be found about the Dari project. Alas, still no detailed program of the concert! After more research done with a certain amount of embarrassment, since I am a strong advocate of the “no cellphone use” policy at LIVE concerts, I finally found a link which sent me to a .pdf file in which all the information I was looking for could be found. So, from this moment on, every time I wanted to look up something in connection to what was being played on stage, I had to check my phone and possibly look (to the outside observer) as if I were texting or browsing the Internet instead on listening attentively- and I thought that we were making concentrated efforts to encourage people to disconnect from devices and give their full attention to the performance!

And now on to the pieces on the program- first came a solo violin work by Leo Chang, titled 78924, which was about as exciting as the title. Ms. Koo, accompanied by sound effects recorded on tape, produced long, sustained notes which eventually – through a series of waves of crescendos and decrescendos – became louder and more ominous. 

The second piece, by Texu Kim, was called Lots of As and a bunch of Bs – and it was exactly that! Still, the two performers (Ms. Koo was joined here by Dawn Dongeun Wohn) did their best and made reference, for the only time during the concert, to the raison’d’être of the project: the piece evoked a professor-student “in class” exploration of techniques, sonorities, and modes of expression. 

The first concert ended with Juri Seo’s piano trio July Mountain, which offered a fairly traditional soundscape along with beautiful teamwork between the three performers. This piece had more substance than the previous works and was very enjoyable to listen to. I spotted some influences from Michael Nyman’s movie soundtracks, heavy on atmosphere, but I found the acoustic of the place too resonant (frankly, loud) for the intimate effects that the music required.

For the 4:00 pm concert, Ms. Koo was back in her lovely traditional Korean outfit, matched by her usual cheer and sparkle, and started with Matthew Jihoon Pellegrino’s Sanjo Sonata. She played many notes, with obvious prowess and control, but the meaning of the music remained strangely opaque to my ears. While I am a strong advocate for using sheet music during a performance, I did wonder if perhaps memorizing the piece would have given Ms. Koo a wider perspective on the meaning of this work and help her rise above the technicalities in order to shape the content better. One of the characteristics of the work – as described in the program notes I was reading on my phone – is to increase speed from one section to the next. I very much enjoyed this concept, but I didn’t find that the tempo acceleration was matched by progress in intensity or drama.

At the heart of the second program was The unreal never lived by Kyong Mee Choi, a work for piano and violin. This work felt a bit long, but it was played with true commitment by both artists who seemed more emotionally invested here than in the other pieces on the program. The many dynamic contrasts were fully persuasive, and you could feel the energy emanating from these two talented musicians. 

Hee Yun Kim’s piano trio Reboot closed the concert and transported us to a different era, in which melody and harmony still reigned supreme. I admit it was lovely to listen to tango-like rhythms and phrases of luscious lyricism, which are rarer and rarer in today’s musical language. I enjoyed listening to each musician – and they all had their moments to shine! By the end of the piece, I did feel that its intentions were not fully realized, and by trying to be more accessible it became somewhat aimless and facile; but I still applaud Ms. Kim’s courage to use older tools in crafting a work for our times!

Since these two concerts were presumably meant to bridge a gap of understanding and appreciation between two generations of artists and encourage the younger ones to open up spiritually and professionally to new ways of making music, I wondered – again – if by commissioning such an ample project Ms. Koo is any closer to her declared goal. I sincerely hope so. On the other hand, there were so few young(er) people present on Saturday, and I’m sorry to report that a young man of 14 or 15, who was sitting directly behind me during the first concert, was fast asleep by the time the last note was played. The applause did wake him up, though, and perhaps that is suggestive of the fact that, even if we don’t necessarily understand something right away, being able to experience it (and witnessing other people’s enthusiasm about it) could be enough to spark one’s interest! And that is already an accomplishment.

BlackBox Ensemble; Dice Trio

DiMenna Center for Classical Music, New York, NY

May 10, 2025

On a beautiful afternoon in New York City, a small but dedicated group of supporters of contemporary music gathered at the DiMenna Center to listen to a prize winners’ concert. The Dwight & Ursula Mamlok Prize is awarded every year to a soloist and/or an ensemble making a significant contribution to the performance of contemporary music, with a special focus on Ursula Mamlok’s compositions; the presentation of the prize alternates between New York and Berlin.

We were treated to the performances of two groups of talented musicians: the BlackBox Ensemble (who performed in the first half of the concert) and the Dice Trio (who closed the evening, after the award giving ceremony took place in the middle).

BlackBox Ensemble is a group of ten performers: soprano Amber Evans, flutist Annie Nikunen, clarinetist Tyler Neidermayer, violinists Lauren Conroy and Teagan Faran, cellist Jordan Bartow, pianist Yifei Xu, percussionist J Clancy,  double bassist Sam Zagnit, and conductor Leonard Bopp, who sometimes does double-duty as a trumpeter. They play in perfect synchrony of sound and musical intention, as if they have been working together their entire lives. They produce a fascinating palette of colors and timbres which help them create a dream-like atmosphere, particularly effective in the intimate concert space at DiMenna. 

The first piece on the program was Ursula Mamlok’s Die Laterne, in which Ms. Evans’ beautiful German diction was a pleasure to listen to, and Mr. Bopp led all performers with exceptional precision and grace. The work, though quite short, makes highly effective use of many different techniques of sound production, and my only quibble was that I would have liked to have an English translation of the text (some of the pieces on the program did have one, but not all).

Didi Gu’s Where Quiet Lives Gather is filled with whispers and squeaky sound effects, evocative of the small living creatures it depicts. With absolute clarity and a seemingly infinite array of shades, the ensemble yet again created a magical sound world brought to life with extraordinary vividness. While I enjoyed the ability to “get intimate” with this music in such a small space, I couldn’t help wondering how it must feel to listen to it on a larger stage, with more generous acoustic, where the mysterious and mystical quality of Ms. Gu’s language could have made an even greater impact.

BlackBox finished their set with Arcades by George Lewis which was – or at least seemed to be – the longest piece on their program. To my ears its structure seemed almost cacophonous, maze-like, and vertigo-inducing. Perhaps a few program notes about the work would have helped identify its meaning, or at least offer a starting point for understanding it better. I felt that – yet again – the performers did their best (Ms. Xu’s repeated notes and trills a particular standout!) but after the first two works, Mr. Lewis’ effort felt a bit like a letdown.

Much as I enjoyed the BlackBox ensemble, I can’t quite get rid of the feeling that they still represent a somewhat established version of the “classical musician,” anchored more in the past tradition than gazing forward towards innovation. They look and sound exceedingly professional and the way they approach music is with reverence and minute attention to detail – all of which is meant to be high praise! However, if we are looking to be surprised, intrigued, perhaps even a little shocked, we should direct our listening gaze towards the second group featured on this program: the Dice Trio.

Adeline DeBella (flute & others), Grace Pressley (saxophone & others) and Sam Friedman (trumpet) seem very, very young. They are dressed in (chic) street clothes, suggesting more a “Sunday-afternoon in Central Park” performance group than a “serious” classical music ensemble. Their choice of repertoire is also quite different in tone and style, the Mamlok piece notwithstanding. They seem to enjoy creating sound effects more than shaping melodies and harmonies. When I glimpsed at one of the performers’ iPad, I almost couldn’t recognize any traditional musical notation; to my “middle-aged” eyes the score looked more like an MRI than sheet music. More than once during their performance I was wondering if I were listening to music, or rather to extremely well organized noises. And yet, unsure as I might have felt about my own level of enjoyment, I can’t help but feel that, with the Dice Trio, we actually did cross into the 21st century – musically and artistically.

Meiling Wu’s Ebb and Flow sounded to me like a “Jurassic Park” soundtrack: exciting, noisy, sometimes scary, always suspenseful, and a tad too long. Mamlok’s Haiku Settings (arranged from the original soprano and alto flute version) is a group of short musical sketches which act as dialogue pieces between two or three instruments. Highly dissonant and eerily atmospheric, the set showcased Ms. DeBella’s and Ms. Pressley’s great versatility in switching between different instruments.

Luis McDougal’s I acknowledge no master is meant to be a musical commentary on some of the questions asked by philosopher Peter Abelard in his work Sic et non. I confess I failed to see how Mr. McDougal’s musical choices illustrate or offer any deeper understanding of these existential questions, in spite of the usual prowess and enthusiasm displayed by the players, who once again showed the highest level of communication and artistic communion between them. I found the composer’s language all too similar with Wu’s Ebb and Flow, and I wonder if that is a result of the writing or perhaps an interpretive choice on the part of the performers?

The last piece on the program was To Build a Fire by Sam Friedman (yes, the same Sam Friedman who is the trumpet player of the group!). House lights were dimmed, an electric light bulb was placed between the three performers who gathered and sat “around the fire,” several light strobe effects were used and a pre-recorded tape of voices and electronic sounds accompanied the experience. Mr. Friedman took a very literal approach to the title, but also a highly original one for a concert stage. Yes, it did sound more like a chilling horror movie soundtrack than a piece of music and I’m not sure I would want to listen to it again, but I certainly felt that we are exploring new territory and that the creative power of this young group of artists is intoxicating (for better or worse). 

As I was leaving the concert hall, I felt puzzled by the effect the Dice Trio had on me: on one hand, I still sense a certain predilection (not uncommon among my younger colleagues) to find exceptionally clever ways to say nothing much; I genuinely question whether anyone would like to re-visit a piece such as To Build a Fire a second or third time (perhaps listening to a recording might still prove interesting, even after several plays). And yet, how could I not give in to their youthful enthusiasm, and how can I not respect and admire their courage to depart from the established norms, and to break free from the many constraints placed for centuries on the shoulders of “classical” music?…

José Maldonado, guitar

Weiwei Zhai, piano

David Greer Recital Hall, Bloomingdale School of Music, New York, NY

May 2, 2025

One of the great joys of New York is the abundance of music, often in small, lesser-known venues, and often free. Such was the case this past Friday as pianist Weiwei Zhai and guitarist José Maldonado performed at David Greer Recital Hall in the Bloomingdale School of Music. In tribute to their respective roots in China and Latin America, their unusual program offered around an hour of fairly short, generally accessible solos and duos from China, Puerto Rico, Mexico, and Costa Rica – with a short Bach movement added as an opener. The Latin American composers included Mexican Manuel María Ponce Cuéllar, usually known as Manuel Ponce (1882-1949), Puerto Ricans William Ortiz Alvarado (b. 1947) and Rafael Hernández Marîn (1892-1965), and Costa Rican Alonso Torres Matarrita (b. 1980). The Chinese composers were Shiguang Cui (b. 1948), Jianzhong Wang (1933-2016), and Qing Liu (b. 1956) – all writing in the twentieth century – plus one traditional Chinese folk song arranged by Peter Schindler (b. 1960).

As well as offering colorful music, the duo offered a friendly salon-type feeling. Both artists are also experienced teachers, and sharing their knowledge about the music in a personable way seemed quite natural for them. José Maldonado in fact shared his brief oral “program notes” in both English and Spanish. Dr. Zhai and Dr. Maldonado both have doctorates, and both have amassed credentials that the reader can find online at the following websites:  

Weiwei Zhai and José Maldonado.

I must confess to some sadness learning that we would not hear the program as listed on the website, so would miss the Cinco Preludios of Ernesto Cordero (b. 1946) and the movement from his Concierto Evocativo. These are very special pieces from a much-loved Puerto Rican composer from whom I’d like to hear more in live concert (though recordings abound); there was still, however, plenty of variety in the revised program. Other changes included the addition of pieces by Shiguang Cui, William Ortiz Alvarado, Rafael Hernández Marín, the Schindler arrangement, and, as mentioned, a Bach piece.

One rarely needs to explain to this listener the addition of Bach – especially an arrangement of the uplifting Sonata in C, BWV 529, originally for organ – but here, as Mr. Maldonado explained, it was a nod to the Baroque era to preface Ponce’s “tease of new and old” in his Prélude for guitar and harpsichord. The Bach made for a joyful nod, and the Ponce that followed exuded a similarly ebullient spirit, leading the duo into remarkable exchanges and dovetailing. They played with rhythmic precision, good articulation, and energy. Where the two performers had a massive challenge was in the inevitable dominance of the hall’s bright Steinway piano over a guitar’s more delicate sound. This would, of course, have been less of a problem with harpsichord (as the Bach could have been as well), but one plays on what is available. Short of bringing in a harpsichord or the precarious miking of the guitar, there were few options. The lid of the piano was already down, but perhaps closing the front of the lid under the music rack (even with some heavy cloth) could have helped.

Matching became moot as Weiwei Zhai continued the program with three Chinese solos, first Jasmine Flower, arranged by Peter Schindler. As Dr. Zhai commented, the folk song itself is extremely famous (as this reviewer knew, having reviewed a violin version of it at Carnegie Hall during which the largely Chinese audience sang along to it). In this Schindler transcription, the melody was set amid disparate styles, from a dreamy Broadway-ish introduction to more salonish variation and florid, virtuosic treatment. Octave tremolos that perhaps were meant to evoke Chinese pipa techniques resulted in a Liberace-esque glitz, but Dr. Zhai played with sincere involvement. Ditty from Shandong Folk Suite by Shiguang Cui followed, refreshingly in a style that was free of Western cliché, and Dr. Zhai played it with pure sparkle and spirit. She concluded her solo group with Liuyang River by Jianzhong Wang, whom she described as partly influenced by Ravel and Debussy, with its pentatonic runs suggesting the river’s waters. Indeed, one heard plenty of pentatonic – as one had in the prior two pieces – but she showed a flair for its impressionistic washes of sound.

Dr. Zhai then introduced the Song of the Yue Boatman (Ancient Chinese Song) by Qing Liu, arranged for piano and guitar by the two performers themselves. It worked well – with the guitar feeling naturally suited to its folkish simplicity. It was quite touching, and somehow the balance worked better than it had in prior selections.

The duo then moved on to a more sobering work by William Ortiz Alvarado entitled HY-1-4175 (the phone number of the composer while living in New York as a self-described Nuyorican). Composed in 1987, it was the most ponderous and elusive piece on the program, fraught with the emotions of being both a New Yorker and a Puerto Rican. One could hear the dreaming, the sense of longing, and the fragments like flashes of memory (at one point punctuated by percussive guitar tapping). At times the piece seemed disjunct, but such an impression served to underscore the piece’s theme of displacement.

More immediately moving was the same composer’s solo Pavana played heartbreakingly by Dr. Maldonado. Even in its moments of extreme softness, his sound was always soulfully present. Perfume de gardenias by Rafael Hernández Marín followed as a healing balm, and Recordando un Bolero by Alonso Torres Matarrita brought the duo together for a sentimental finale with seductive Piazzolla-esque tinges, closing the program with a glow. For those who wanted further glow, there was a reception afterwards in the yard. Though this reviewer could not stay, many in the audience were headed there joyfully. What a gift to the community!

Sirena Huang, violin

Chih-Yi Chen, piano

Zankel Hall at Carnegie Hall, New York, NY

April 26, 2025

The Zankel Hall recital debut of violinist Sirena Huang this weekend was an occasion for cheering from the moment she walked onstage with pianist Chih-Yi Chen. As 2022 Gold Medalist of The International Violin Competition of Indianapolis (IVCI), Ms. Huang has been busy performing across three continents as a recitalist, chamber musician, and soloist with numerous orchestras, including the New York Philharmonic, Cleveland Orchestra, and Baltimore and Indianapolis symphony orchestras – but this recital, presented by the IVCI, was to mark, three years after the fact, the 2022 victory of a competition some may recall as quite dramatic. Ms. Huang had fallen ill, testing positive for Covid soon after her arrival in Indianapolis; however, thanks to some schedule changes, she was able to recover partially for several days, performing last and sweeping just about every prize offered. Ms. Huang is clearly a survivor, with a resilience that will probably be needed just as much for an international career as for that 2022 ordeal. Her playing shows (unsurprisingly) that she has already conquered just about every violin challenge there is – but with grace and an open mind, she seems poised to take on still more.

The program offered an interesting variety of familiar and lesser-known works. The first half included Stravinsky’s ever-popular Suite Italienne and Poulenc’s somewhat underappreciated Violin Sonata. After intermission came Beethoven’s Violin Sonata No. 1 in D major, Op. 12, followed by music from the early twentieth century on, particularly from a group of “marginalized composers” as Ms. Huang describes in her program notes. From African-American composer Coleridge-Taylor Perkinson (1932-2004) we heard Blue/s Forms, and then from the composer he was named for, British-Sierra Leonean Samuel Coleridge-Taylor (1875-1912), we heard Deep River. Finally, from Chinese composer Chen Gang (b. 1935), we heard the showpiece Sunshine on Tashkurgan.

Opening with Stravinsky’s Suite Italienne was a wise choice, establishing a neo-Baroque framework from which to dance into the program. It may be, as Ms. Huang describes in her notes  “witty and satirical” –  but, through Stravinsky’s gaze across the centuries back to Pergolesi, the six dance movements are also sincerely expressive, from the regal Introduzione to the more pensive Serenata and feverish Tarantella. The duo captured their beauty and uplifted their audience from the first notes. The pianist Chih-Yi Chen was one hundred percent with Ms. Huang in each phrase – which is not as simple as it may sound (bringing to mind the Ginger Rogers quip about doing all that Fred Astaire did – but “backwards in high heels”). When Ms. Huang took an extremely soft echo in the repeat of the Gavotte, for example, one wondered how Ms. Chen could further soften the bass accompaniment with such a very live hall piano, but she did. Ms. Huang was exemplary in all ways, from intonation to bowing and phrasing.

Poulenc’s Violin Sonata (1942-43), dedicated to Federico García Lorca, was refreshing to see on a program, as it is still relatively underplayed, decades after its less than welcoming initial reception. Coming shortly after Poulenc’s second conscription (World Wars I and II), it is full of a dark intensity that seems to have more kinship with Shostakovich than with Poulenc’s prior works. Poulenc was also breaking out of a stylistic mold in a sense (having written that “the violin prima donna over the piano arpeggio makes me vomit”), but his end result in this sonata was a profound work of collaborative expressiveness – and equal challenge for both instruments. The Huang-Chen duo lit into the stormy first movement with intense drive. Ms. Huang’s tone was ravishing in its lyrical sections (especially the slower theme in 12/8), and the duo felt its passionate outpourings exactly together. The central Intermezzo (prefaced by García Lorca’s line, “the guitar makes dreams cry”) was movingly melancholic, shaded with otherworldly hues and sur la touche timbres. The violin part at times served chiefly to react to the piano part via poignant pizzicato (again, Poulenc’s break from the typical virtuoso role) but when it had long lines, Ms. Huang let it sing magnificently. Again, in every moment, the duo played as if they were of one mind. They concluded the tragico last movement brilliantly, projecting its rather abrupt ending with meaning and intensity.

Beethoven’s Violin Sonata No. 1 in D major, Op. 12 opened the second half in a brighter spirit. Composed in 1798, the sonata already reflects some of the innovation heard in some his most beloved creations (such as the amazing Op. 10 for piano from around the same time), and the two players dove into it with vigor. There was much to love about this duo’s interpretation of the work, including the especially jauntily placed offbeats and sforzandi in the Rondo. Occasionally, though, to this listener there seemed to be some eccentric anomalies, such as very early in the first movement, where a sudden piano after the first crescendo was prefaced with what seemed an excessive pause each time; all in all, though, their reading was a joy.

Following the Beethoven, the stage personnel came on to remove the violinist’s stand (which had held alternately paper or digital scores for the entire recital) in advance of three solo violin pieces entitled Blue/s Forms by Coleridge-Taylor Perkinson (1932-2004). Playing from memory, Ms. Huang showed complete immersion in these pieces, reflecting what she described in her notes as “a personal mission to center the voices of those excluded from the traditional Eurocentric canon.” Perkinson’s music is experiencing something of a rediscovery of late, but there is a considerable way to go, so kudos to Ms. Huang for acting on her commitment to these pieces. Plain Blue/s announced its blues inspiration with major-minor alternations, slides, and syncopation, and Ms. Huang seemed to savor it all. Just Blue/s descended into a more plaintive rumination and was hypnotic in Ms. Huang’s hands. Jettin’ Blue/s brought the set to an exciting close with a driving perpetual motion.

Continuing to the inspiration behind Mr. Perkinson’s first name, Samuel Coleridge-Taylor himself, Ms. Huang rejoined Ms. Chen for Deep River (from 24 Negro Melodies, arranged from the solo piano version by Maud Powell). A concert version of one of the best-known spirituals, it was lavished with rolls and slides and given soulful performance by both performers.

For the finale of the concert, we heard the showpiece Sunshine on Tashkurgan by Chen Gang (b. 1935). Inspired we are told by Tajik music, the basic material reminded this listener of some of the folk music Franz Liszt enjoyed elaborating on – as did Sarasate, Monti, and others in the violin world. From its improvisatory introduction to its dance of frenzied speed, Ms. Huang gave it a high-voltage run with Ms. Chen, in dazzling pyrotechnical display. The piece seemed made for them, though we know it was composed in 1976 (and quite popular since then in China).

After a standing ovation came two unannounced encores – first Tchaikovsky’s well-known Mélodie from Op. 42, a sentimental farewell, and then Black Gypsy by Eddie South (1904-1962) – played winningly. The Eddie South piece eluded me at first, with its expressive classical-jazz blend and fiddle-like riffs. What was this vaguely familiar gem? (We reviewers may retain a lot, but we’re not infallible.) A quick review of some Augustin Hadelich performances jogged the memory, and there it was, Eddie South. One couldn’t help thinking though  – even though many feel encores are a fun surprise unannounced –  that it could help still further the mission to “amplify marginalized voices” if their names were announced!

Incidentally, as the name Augustin Hadelich sprang to mind, so did the recollection that he was also a winner of the International Violin Competition of Indianapolis back in 2006 – a reminder of just how stellar this competition’s laureates have been and what a launching pad this competition has been. As we celebrate Ms. Huang, the most recent of their stars, we look forward similarly to following her adventures and explorations for years to come.

Ian Hobson, Pianist

Tenri Institute, New York, NY

April 25, 2025

Ian Hobson returned to the Tenri Institute on April 25^th for the latest installment in his Schumann works cycle, entitled Love and Nature III. This was one of the briefer programs in his multi-year endeavor, with only three works on the program – Gesänge der Frühe, Op. 133 (Songs of the Morning), Thema mit Variationen in Es Dur WoO 24 , better known as Geistervariationen (Ghost Variations), and Waldszenen, Op. 82 (Forest Scenes). Mr. Hobson has developed a following for his Schumann programs – there were several audience members talking about having attended many of these programs and already enthusiastically looking forward to the next installment in September.

I’m not going to repeat all of Mr. Hobson’s credentials, as they have appeared in his past reviews. Any new readers or interested persons can read about Mr. Hobson by clicking on this link: Ian Hobson .

Before beginning the program, Mr. Hobson spoke about the first two works, Gesänge der Frühe, Op. 133 (Songs of the Morning), and the Geistervariationen (Ghost Variations). About the Gesänge der Frühe, he mentioned several interesting observations he had made in his studies of the work:  Schumann’s love of music cryptograms (using letters from the titles of the individual pieces as musical notes),  his wife Clara’s uneasy relationship with the work (she thought it “so very strange”), and the Wagnerian influence on the third song, Lebhaft. As Mr. Hobson shared, in spite of Schumann telling Mendelssohn (after a hearing of Tannhäuser) that he had serious reservations about Wagner, it seems that Schumann had a change of mind. Though one could hear a superficial similarity in the Lebhaft, his listener is not entirely convinced of the Wagnerian influence. Nonethless such thought-proving ideas are part of what make this series so stimulating. As for the Geistervariationen (Ghost Variations), Mr. Hobson reminded us that this music was probably the last that Schumann ever wrote. More about this later.

Mr. Hobson opened with Gesänge der Frühe. One must admit that Clara was on to something – this work has some seemingly random dissonances,  sudden arbitrary outbursts from nowhere that disappear as suddenly as they appear, and awkward hesitations that make the performer sound as if they are groping for the right notes, amongst other things. If one were unaware of these pitfalls, one would probably think that the pianist is making mistakes or has not prepared properly – not exactly an ideal situation for the performer. Mr. Hobson took no notice of these challenges as he made the very most of the divine moments with true sensitivity and careful attention to voicing, while dealing with the “strange” aspects with equal attention and care. Mr. Hobson deserves praise for taking a thankless task and fashioning something memorable.

The Geistervariationen followed Gesänge der Frühe. Again, these Geistervariationen constitute the last work that Schumann completed. It was not published until 1939, and both Clara Schumann and Brahms had thought it unworthy of publication. The variations mirror Schumann’s mental state, with the final variation revealing a composer who is losing his sanity. If one were not aware of Schumann’s declining mental health, the variations might just be considered the less than masterful work of a very ill man, with flashes of his genius intermingled with disturbing moments; knowing the history, however, one hears the heartbreak. Schumann was in the throes of aural hallucinations, with horrible sounds filling his ears, while desperately seeking relief from his anguished mental state. A respite was brought with a sudden inspiration of a heavenly sort. Schumann claimed the theme was dictated to him by an angel (though he did not recognize that he had already used this same theme material several times in earlier compositions). He then added variations, but the torment was too strong, and he threw himself into the Rhine. Very soon after his rescue, he was committed to an asylum from which he would never leave. We don’t know whether Schumann intended to write more variations, but it is a reasonable assumption that he would have been unable to do so.

Mr. Hobson played the theme with a simple steadiness, bringing its heavenly beauty forward without any self-indulgence, letting the sublime beauty of the music speak for itself. This was his overriding approach – Mr. Hobson did not feel any compunction to place his own “stamp” on the music. He is the servant of the composer (as it should be) – every note and phrase has been studied, considered, and played accordingly. If I had any quibble, it would have been wanting more of the left hand brought out in the fourth variation. The disconcerting fifth variation ended this journey with an unsettling feeling that was hauntingly appropriate. Thankfully, Mr. Hobson had altered the order of the program, as the Geistervariationen were originally intended to be the final work of the evening.

After a brief intermission, Mr. Hobson returned for the final work of his program, Waldszenen, Op. 82 (Forest Scenes). After the “strangeness” of the first half, this was a delightful reminder of how masterful Schumann was with small pieces that evoke scenes or scenarios. Waldszenen is a set of nine short pieces that depict a hunting outing of some less than fearsome hunters. The forest creatures have little to fear from these fellows, but the hunt is really just a means to enjoy nature and camaraderie. Our hunters find themselves unnerved by some frightening scenery and an ominous sounding bird song, but seek shelter in an inn, where they drink and brag to each other about their adventures, before leaving the forest and heading back home.

Mr. Hobson was most successful at capturing the ineptitude of the hunters, as when they are scurrying about in Hunters on the Lookout. The Lonely Flowers and Friendly Landscape were as pastoral sounding as their names suggest. The Bird as Prophet had an eerie, quirky quality. Mr. Hobson may have not completely formed his conceptions of all these pieces – as there were moments when Schumann’s “surprises” seemed to have surprised him as well. There were some smudges here and there, but these were infrequent. All in all, it was a “fun trip,” and one this listener greatly enjoyed. The audience enjoyed it as well, giving Mr. Hobson enthusiastic  applause.

Mr. Hobson’s next Schumann installment is on September 26, 2025.