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Bargemusic Presents Masterworks Series: Emanuel Krasovsky in Review

Bargemusic Presents Masterworks Series: Emanuel Krasovsky

Emanuel Krasovsky, Piano

Bargemusic, Brooklyn, NY

May 28, 2016

Emanuel Krasovsky is a Lithuanian-born Israeli pianist whom one might call a musician’s musician. He has established a following of experienced music-lovers and musicians, and in some ways their high expectation for something beyond mere pianistic thrills can amount to a self-fulfilling prophecy. This is not to say that his audiences do the work for him (clearly not possible), but that the bated breath of those awaiting his magic does help welcome the music in, as it did this past Saturday at Bargemusic. Not a peep was heard from his audience during long stretches of calm pianissimos. In repertoire that can tax the untutored or impatient listener, Mr. Krasovsky’s deeply thoughtful interpretations held his avid listeners rapt through Schubert’s sprawling Sonata in B-flat (D. 960), the same composer’s Drei Klavierstücke (D. 946), and the first book of the somewhat elusive cycle On the Overgrown Path (Book I, JW VIII/17) by the Czech composer Leoš Janáček (1854-1928).

Mr. Krasovsky started with Janáček, whose musical gold has been increasingly mined in recent decades after relative neglect. Ten movements of On the Overgrown Path, an emotionally demanding group, established Mr. Krasovsky as an artist. He drew his listeners in gently with “Our Evenings” which was projected with an especially beautiful singing tone and flexibility of phrase. This listener found his style quite moving, as with the greats of the twentieth century as heard over a lifetime. All of the remaining nine movements measured up in terms of expressiveness, from the childlike innocence of “A Blown Away Leaf” and “Come with us!” to the mystical frissons of “The Madonna of Frydek” and frenetic energy of “They Chattered like Swallows.” Not even the occasional horn blast of boats could disrupt the spell (ah, the uniqueness of the floating concert hall!).

Janáček, as well as being a folklorist, was a colorist of a subtlety that still sometimes eludes pianists and listeners alike a century later. What impressed one especially about Mr. Krasovsky was his sensitivity to shading and his warmly balanced voicing, where there was always something new emerging from the musical textures. Some of Janáček’s folk-like (and hymn-like) writing can be treated in a two-dimensional way, but Mr. Krasovsky consistently plumbed the depths. Even in the cryptic closing piece, “The Barn Owl Has Not Flown Away,” he answered the tonal and emotional ambiguity with the inspired decision to follow directly into Schubert. The ensuing Drei Klavierstücke (D. 946), among the last compositions Schubert wrote (only published decades later by Brahms), were a perfect choice. Schubert’s overall symmetry and clarity made a perfect exit from the “overgrown path” and yet the kindred elements between Schubert and Janáček were also implicit. A program by pianist Jeremy Denk in recent years made a similar connection between Schubert and Janáček –– but this segue was striking in its own unique way.

If the title Drei Klavierstücke (not a title by Schubert himself) brings to mind some random miniatures, think again. Collectively longer than many of the same composer’s Sonatas (around twenty-five minutes), these three late pieces (written just months before the composer’s death) are large in scope, emotion, and pianistic challenges – sometimes akin to those of Schubert’s notoriously difficult Wanderer Fantasy. Mr. Krasovsky handled the challenges with expertise. Only occasionally did one notice a loss of tonal control as the technical demands mounted, but one headed to intermission musically fulfilled and with a sense of admiration for the pianist.

After intermission came Schubert’s great B-flat Sonata, again among the composer’s last works. This monumental first movement happened to coincide with the more active river tides, but despite some rocking of the barge the pianist kept things on an even keel (no pun intended). The divine slow movement had just the right tempo for this listener’s liking. Such slow pacing does invite some occasional glitches – but they are nearly negligible in such cases of inspired artistry. What was less negligible was some roughness in the third and fourth movements, not merely note-wise but in tone. As passages grow more challenging some sacrifices to tone quality may be inevitable – but one ideally wants as much care and attention to tone in rapid octave jumps as in tender sostenuto melodies. Mr. Krasovsky’s own playing sets a high bar, so this listener may be forgiven for wanting a level of polish that may be unrealistic in live performance!

As well as being a fine pianist with excellent credentials, Mr. Krasovsky has been a respected and beloved pedagogue for decades. Currently head of the piano department at Tel-Aviv University, he has also been a writer of articles on various musical subjects, a presenter of master classes, and a juror for many international competitions. It is not common, while wearing so many hats, to pull off such a hugely demanding solo recital, but the good news is that Mr. Krasovsky did just that with remarkable success. All in all, the evening was a musical revelation, and this listener will be back! Bravo!

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

Distinguished Concerts International New York (DCINY) presents The Triumph of Hope in Review

Distinguished Concerts International New York (DCINY) presents The Triumph of Hope

Reno Philharmonic Youth Symphony Orchestra; Jason Alteri, director

West Monroe High School Rebel Choir; Greg A. Oden, director; Kristen Anderson Oden, accompanist

Military Wives Choir; Paul Mealor, composer/conductor; Rob Young, director; Kathy Kenny, accompanist

Stern Auditorium at Carnegie Hall, New York, NY

May 27, 2016

To kick off the Memorial Day Weekend, Distinguished Concerts International New York (DCINY) scheduled two concerts to commemorate the occasion. The first, on May 27, 2016, was called The Triumph of Hope and featured the Reno Philharmonic Youth Symphony Orchestra, the West Monroe High School Rebel Choir, and the Military Wives Choir from the United Kingdom.

Taking the stage to begin the concert was the Reno Philharmonic Youth Symphony Orchestra from Reno, Nevada, “The Biggest Little City in the World.” Led by Jason Alteri, the orchestra offered three works, the New York premiere of Solis by Amanda Harberg, a movement of Max Bruch’s Violin Concerto No. 1 in G minor, Op. 26, and the 1919 suite version of Igor Stravinsky’s L’Oiseau de Feu (The Firebird).

Solis opened their set. In the words of the composer, “The title Solis refers to the sun-like brilliance communicated in the work’s climax.” Things got off to a rocky start, particularly some nerve-induced intonation problems in the trumpet solo that opens the piece, but this issue abated as the jitters wore away and the players settled in. Solis is an interesting and effective work that I do hope to hear again. Ms. Harberg was in attendance and appeared to be pleased, so one should take that as a cue.

Violinist Natasha von Bartheld hurried off the stage, only to return in a bright red dress for her featured role as soloist in the Bruch. An abridged arrangement of the Finale’s Allegro Energico was offered. Ms. von Bartheld played with flair and confidence, tackling the technical challenges with apparent ease; this talented young lady has great potential for the future. The razzmatazz is there, but I’d like to hear her project her sound more, which might be helped with a higher-quality instrument. In any case, she can be very proud or her fine work. The orchestral support was excellent, and erased some of the reservations I had had earlier.

Ending with the Stravinsky, all traces of nerves were gone once and for all. I could almost not believe the difference – this was playing brimming with confidence and energy. If I had not known any better, I would have thought I was hearing, at the very least, a college-level ensemble. The audience rewarded the ensemble with a loud ovation. Congratulations, Reno Philharmonic Youth Symphony Orchestra, for a job well done!

The West Monroe High School Rebel Choir from Louisiana, led by Greg A. Oden, took the stage next. There were no notes or texts about their selections included in the printed program, which to this reviewer is an inexplicable and inexcusable omission. It is hardly common knowledge that the text for their first work, Williametta Spencer’s At The Round Earth’s Imagined Corners, comes from John Donne’s Holy Sonnet 7! The hard working young performers deserved better, as this administrative gaffe has an effect on the audience’s understanding and enjoyment of the works. Thankfully, the product was better than the packaging, as this ensemble showed great depth and maturity in their performances. Highlights were Mark Hayes’ Grace, and Moses Hogan’s showstopper Elijah Rock. Special recognition goes to Bailey Young for her solo in Schubert’s Kyrie from the Messe in G, as well as to oboe soloist Paige Freeman and vocal soloists Rhett Finley, Olivia Myers, Kayln Clifton, Caroline Counts, Kelly Cole, Cara Ramos, Jace Cascio, Caleb Norman, and Scott David in Song for The Mira from Allister MacGillivray.

After a short pause, the Military Wives Choir took the stage. Composer/conductor Paul Mealor, himself a rising star in the choral world, told the audience about the history of the organization. Consisting of wives, mothers, sisters, active duty soldiers, and widows, the Military Wives Choir is a means for these women to join together as friends, as mentors, and as a mutual support system for what can be an uncertain and stressful life often overlooked by society in general. As Mr. Mealor stated, The Military Wives Choir now has twenty-six groups throughout the United Kingdom. It would be something beneficial for our own here in the United States.

These ladies are all heart, and it shows immediately. They are giving their all and loving every single moment. The audience was completely won over, and in spite of my best efforts to remain the hard-nosed, emotionless critic, I was won over as well, in about twenty or so seconds. They even made me enjoy U2’s With or Without You, a song I have never cared for at all! Their song set spanned from World War I’s Keep the Home Fires Burning to the World War II classics, The White Cliffs of Dover and We’ll Meet Again, pop and Broadway works, and the World Premiere of Paul Mealor’s This Song of Mine. Each selection held special meaning about war, service, and separation. For a complete list of songs, click here Program Notes.

After the last song, Stronger Together, the audience gave these wonderful women a richly earned and deserved standing ovation. Kudos to the soloists, Beth Joy, Alison Nuttall, Louise Forbes, Kirsty Ann Johnstone, Giselle Fitzsimmons, Joanna Grant, and Larraine Smith. An encore of Stronger Together, with the singers joined arm-in-arm and hand-in-hand, was a fitting close to a wonderful night.

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

The Consulate General of Argentina Presents Rosa Antonelli, Pianist in Review

Rosa Antonelli, Pianist: Alberto Ginastera Centennial Gala

The Consulate General of Argentina, New York, NY

May 18, 2016

The centennial of the birth of Argentine composer Alberto Ginastera (1916-1983) is no small occasion for the music world. It is fittingly capturing the attention of musicians and audiences worldwide in various ways, but in New York this past week, it was celebrated at the Consulate General of Argentina, in a recital by Argentine pianist Rosa Antonelli.

Ms. Antonelli’s performances, as listed in her biography, have taken her to distinguished venues across the globe, in many countries throughout Europe, Africa, Asia, Latin America, and North America, and frequently under sponsorship by government organizations. Her lovely, gracious demeanor and sense of commitment to her country’s music make her a natural for such a diplomatic venue.

Several dignitaries spoke addressing the occasion, but the most memorable speaker by far was the composer’s daughter, Georgina Ginastera, who spoke of her father’s note-by-note perfectionism, his sense of musical architecture, and the kinship between the Argentine landscape and the tonal evocations of the pampas, the desert, the oceans, the hot midday sun, and vibrant native malambo dancing. She also spoke of his free approach to teaching and how, when he was guiding Astor Piazzolla (1921-1992), also represented on the program, her father urged him to follow his natural inclinations, saying, “if you like tangos, write tangos.” We know from historic records that Nadia Boulanger had similar advice to Piazzolla, who grew restless with his native voice and sought more sophisticated genres, but a large debt of gratitude there clearly goes to Alberto Ginastera.

To start the music, Ms. Antonelli played Ginastera’s exquisite Idilio Crepuscular (“Romance at Twilight” from the ballet Estancia). With generous pedaling aiding the dreamy atmosphere, it started the evening with music of a love story – as Ms. Antonelli explained, “like Romeo and Juliet, but with a happy ending.” More of Ms. Antonelli’s gentle approach brought out the poignancy of the slow Triste and Vidala from the 12 Preludios Americanos. Homenaje a Roberto Garcia Morillo (also from the Preludios) kicked things up a notch, though with more restraint than one hears generally. The ending, notated as a ferocious fff, seemed a bit tame for this listener – whether this was out of concern for the stunning Steinway at hand or for the elegant milieu one could only guess, but it raised concern for the how the rest of the evening would go on with music by a composer of such uncompromising, sometimes savage, vibrancy and frankness.

Back to the lyricism, the program proceeded with Rondo Sobre Temas Infantiles, a nostalgic piece dedicated to Ginastera’s children and similar in language to some of the Villa-Lobos Prole do Bebê. It was played with sensitivity and charm. Three more selections from the Preludios Americanos followed, the gentle Pastoral, nicely shaded, the quiet tango-like Homenaje a Juan Jose Castro, also well rendered, and the rustic Danza Criolla, given an energetic reading.

Four Tangos by Astor Piazzolla followed and seemed a fitting tribute to Ginastera the teacher, who encouraged his composition students to follow their hearts. First came El Mundo de Los Dos, and it was preceded by a reading of melancholy lyrics written for it by Albino Gomez, writer, journalist, and Argentine diplomat. It was given a heartfelt musical interpretation by Ms. Antonelli, who brought out its desolation.

Three more famous tangos followed, including two from the Cuatro Estaciones Porteñas (“Four Seasons of Buenos Aires”), Verano Porteño (summer) and Invierno Porteño (winter), in addition to the effusive Libertango. All three of these have found their way into the concert hall in all manner of arrangements, some recapturing the original bandoneón ensemble and others branching out into cello duos, string quartets, orchestral versions, and more. Piano alone by comparison can seem lacking in color if one does not pull off some technical and tonal miracles, or at least vary the texture and dynamics in strategic ways. Stretches of repeating bass patterns under expansive melodies that in more sustaining instruments are atmospheric and seductive (as tangos invite), can sound arid and grey in solo piano versions. To Ms. Antonelli’s credit, the powerful undercurrent of tango rhythm was rarely sacrificed – a challenge in the Libertango where distribution of hands is awkward – yet one still longed for more of the focal melody. Verano Porteño experienced some rough spots, but overall the pianist acquitted herself well.

The program returned to music of Ginastera to close, the Danza del Trigo (“Wheat Dance” from Estancia) and Tres Danzas Argentinas. These were high points, showcasing Ms. Antonelli’s lyrical expressiveness at its best. Incidentally, the Danza del Trigo struck this listener for the first time as having a strong kinship melodically with the second of the Danzas Argentinas, the Danza de la Moza Donosa, a longtime favorite. The pairing of the two together offered a glimpse into the musical soul of Ginastera – for which Ms. Antonelli is to be thanked. Both were played with real tenderness and were worth the trip by themselves.

Danza del Viejo Boyero and the Danza del Gaucho Matrero, more typically motoric fare, offered a balance. One was surprised by the quantity of pedal in the Gaucho Matrero and also wanted a bit more “oomph” in sections (the subject being cowboys, after all), but these were just a few reservations in what was an effective close to the recital.

All in all, it was a successful evening of tribute. Happy Anniversary, Ginastera!

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

Rondo Young Artist 2016 presents Rondo FORMA Competition First Place Winners’ Recital in Review

Rondo FORMA Competition First Place Winners’ Recital

Weill Recital Hall at Carnegie Hall

The non-profit Rondo organization is now in its fifth year, and has recently opened its competition to conservatory-age students. The four winners, all pianists, were presented in their award recital on Thursday. This concert was a mammoth program of about a “half” recital from each of the four pianists, the repertoire, with one exception, was standard.

Grace Han opened the evening with a lovely account of Bach’s Prelude and Fugue in E-flat minor/D sharp minor, BWV 853 (WTC I), with the fugue especially notable for its gentle movement and contrapuntal clarity. She then followed with the baroque viewed through the eyes of the romantic composer Brahms: his Variations and Fugue on a Theme by Handel, Op. 24. She performed it in a very tightly organized way, musical certainly, but often lacking in poetry, and at times way too muscular, brusque, and noisy. The first turn to B-flat minor in variation five should be arresting and heartbreaking; instead it was loud. However, the very next one, also in the minor, a canon at the octave was beautifully ghostly.

Ziang Xu followed, with another very poetic Bach Prelude and Fugue in B-flat minor, BWV 867 (WTC I), sensitive to every harmonic change and linear movement. He then played a riotous etude by Nikolai Kapustin (b. 1937) that was a jazzy staccato study, ferociously difficult, which Xu tossed off with great flair. Not quite as successful, however, was the main “dish” of his mini-recital: Chopin’s set of 12 Etudes, Op. 10. As Alfred Cortot always said, (the Chopin etudes are) “as inaccessible to the technician without poetry as they are to the poet without technique.” Mr. Xu occupies something of a middle-ground in my opinion. He certainly gave astonishing displays of dexterity, usually with tempi that were inhumanly rapid. But I questioned the true musical value of some of the achievement, for many, many opportunities for sensitivity were left in the dust. For me, the three that verged on “perfection” were Nos. 5, 9, and 11: in those he responded to every need. The “Black Key” etude was fleet but playful; the cruel stretches of the left hand in the F Minor were no obstacle to his rendering the right hand poetically; and the wide arpeggios in the E-Flat Major had a perfectly voiced melody floating on top. Mr. Xu needs to reconsider the material in what I call the “non-etude” hand (usually the left hand), so that it isn’t buried amid the difficult figurations. This will automatically increase his musical depth, of which he already possesses a great deal.

After intermission came the best playing of the night with the final two pianists. Sun Young Lee chose just one work, but an immense one, Schumann’s three-movement Fantasy in C Major, Op. 17. She brought out the impetuous, playful, “Florestan” qualities in the first movement beautifully. Her second-movement march had the requisite mercurial mood shifts and poetry in the middle section. Her bravura risk-taking was worth the (very few) missed notes in its treacherous coda. Finally, she brought deep color changes and consideration to the quiet concluding movement, each harmonic shift contained magic. She was the first pianist of the night to seem like she was actively listening, not only to herself, but to the composer and the music, making something “live” before our ears.

The concert concluded with what was, for me, the finest playing. Mintra Rungruengsorakam (I hope I never have to pronounce that in public) gave an absolutely radiant account of a rarely-played Haydn Piano Sonata in A-flat major, Hob. XVI:46. She was divinely in tune with the style, the instrument, and herself. I never wanted it to end, especially her breathtaking account of the Adagio. She then followed with two of the four movements of Prokofiev’s Second Piano Sonata (D minor, Op. 14): the way she played the first two notes of the first movement, a deceptively simple octave descent, signaled to me that she was going to deliver a beautiful rendition, and she did. No opportunity for lyrical playing was missed, which is so difficult in Prokofiev. Her no-nonsense, motoric Scherzo was absolutely appropriate. She concluded with Chopin’s brilliant Waltz in F major, Op. 34, No. 3, which was tossed off with humor, flirtatiousness, and every note considered. Beautiful work!

I heartily congratulate the achievements of all the Rondo winners, and I pray that they may always play to FULL houses.

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

Legato Arts presents Maria Prinz in Review

Maria Prinz, Piano

Weill Recital Hall at Carnegie Hall, New York, NY

May 13, 2016

A large audience greeted Bulgarian-born pianist Maria Prinz, who offered an ambitious program that never strayed from her stated strengths and love for the Austro-Hungarian core repertoire: mature Haydn, late Beethoven, late Schubert—even the contemporary work was Austrian.

The recital was full of paradoxes for me however: someone with such obvious affection and affinity for this music yet lacking the “world-class” fingers and memory to render it without many slips; a keen poetic, lyrical sense yet one that led to rhythmic distortion beyond the pale of emotion and/or spontaneity; a good understanding of the phrasing and grammar of the period yet often with an oddly wooden sound, and many notes in chords not sounding, imperfectly voiced; and some doubtful analytical connections made in her program notes. Perhaps I was just not on her wavelength, but I could not shake these thoughts while listening.

Haydn’s great E-Flat major sonata (Hob. XVI:52) opened promisingly, with wit and crisp articulation, even when the fingers were not cooperating fully. The loveliest movement, captured very well by Ms. Prinz, was the second movement Adagio in the remote key of E major. Here her sense of quasi-improvisation suited the music perfectly.

Beethoven’s quirky two-movement E minor sonata, Op. 90, suffered from a lack of liveliness in its first measures, coupled with a rhythm that never really got off the ground. Descending scales don’t always have to have the first note lengthened before precipitously rushing downward. The Schubertian rondo in E major was graceful, though not really well-sung by Ms. Prinz. The piano tone was dull, and she didn’t observe many of the subito pp indications that give it its charm. When the repeating melody finally appears in the left hand, it was insufficiently projected, drowned by the figures in the right hand. I’d like to suggest to her that the Schubert that this movement most resembles is his late Rondo in A major, D. 951, which Alfred Brendel states was “obviously” modeled on the Beethoven.

After intermission, she tackled the first of Schubert’s last three sonatas, the C minor, D. 958. This harrowing, death-haunted music still sounds as threatening, even with its few flashes of Viennese charm, as it must have in 1828. It is Schubert at his most Beethovenian, with its virtual quotation of the descending bass line of the 32 Variationen, WoO 80, perhaps prompted by the death of Beethoven the preceding year. Again, the 3/4 rhythm of the first movement was violated right away in the first measure. I can understand a “romantic” approach to Schubert, but not to this extent. There was insufficient contrast from the ppp to the ff requested by Schubert. The slow movement had a lovely interior quality that revealed the lonely prayer-like affect and the violent tremblings of the diseased composer. The Trio section of the Menuetto captured the Ländler spirit perfectly, with vaguely ominous shadows never far away. In the finale, the longest in Schubert’s music, the tempo was not as terrifying as befits a dance of death, although the episode in which the Erlkönig sweetly lures the protagonist was beautifully played.

Ms. Prinz then played the Moto bravouroso composed by her late husband, Alfred Prinz, a clarinetist with the Vienna Philharmonic for fifty years. If he began when his bio says he did, he would have been fifteen (!). This work was in a dissonant but conservative style, sounding at times like the Swiss composer Frank Martin. Ms. Prinz brought the authority and force only she could to this touching tribute.

Her first encore, Mozart’s D minor Fantasy, K. 397, contained the loveliest playing of the evening. Ms. Prinz’ unity with the music and the style were perfection. She followed that with another paradox: a clangy rendition of Schubert’s A-Flat major impromptu (D. 899, No. 4) that was short on genuine cantabile, and with the same left-hand melody issue that marred the Beethoven for me. I do appreciate Ms. Prinz’ devotion to this core repertoire, and hope she realizes that this is just one person’s opinion.

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

Transcendental Taverner: Clarion at the Met in Review

Transcendental Taverner: Clarion at the Met

The Clarion Choir, Steven Fox, Artistic Director

Medieval Sculpture Hall, The Metropolitan Museum of Art, New York NY

April 29, 2016

As part of the MetLiveArts series of performances, a most amazing evening of music took place last Friday. Entitled “Transcendental Taverner,” it truly lived up to its name in what was one of the most mesmerizing a cappella concerts this reviewer has ever heard.

Founded ten years ago by the young but precociously well-credentialed conductor Steven Fox, the Clarion Choir began as a complement to the Clarion Orchestra, a period instrument ensemble also directed by Maestro Fox. The Clarion Choir, open to a wide range of musical eras beyond the Renaissance and Baroque periods, has performed works by Rachmaninoff and Mozart, as well as works from earlier periods; it seemed, however, ideally suited to the beautiful translucent counterpoint of English composer John Taverner (c. 1490-1545). Also ideal was the setting in the Metropolitan Museum of Art’s Medieval Sculpture Hall, with stone and marble architecture that allowed the reverberating voices to soar magnificently.

Steven Fox , Photo credit: Kim Fox

The entire program (except for a finale of John Sheppard’s Communio: In Pace) was devoted to Taverner’s Missa Gloria Tibi Trinitas, a mass with central setting of the Latin Easter text, Dum Transisset describing the discovery of the empty sepulchre of Jesus Christ. It is a sublime work, with vocal writing that captures the spiritual transcendence of the subject matter through its movingly melismatic lines. The purity and balance of Clarion’s perfectly selected voices was simply breathtaking. If anyone could be unmoved by such a masterpiece, whatever one’s religious persuasion might be, he should have his pulse checked.

The driving force, of course, was Maestro Fox, who directed with visible passion and energy. One would be hard pressed to find a conductor with more commitment to his repertoire or connection to each note from his choir. The results spoke for themselves.

At times Maestro Fox’s extreme physicality contrasted with the serenity of the melodic lines – almost distractingly – but then again, one is always free to close one’s eyes and drift into the stratosphere with the vocal lines. The fact is that, without the constant and pulsating rhythmic underpinning that the conductor projected, the urge for each line to soar at its own self-indulgent rate could be overpowering to a group already swimming in reverberations, a potential threat to the togetherness of the ensemble. Maestro Fox held the counterpoint together masterfully, with the long-breathed lines still projecting gloriously. His awareness of the special acoustics was clear, and his pacing between movements was accordingly sensitive and generous.

The choir had clearly been prepared well in matters of intonation and balance. Several soloists also were simply phenomenal, but without individual attribution on the program one sadly cannot identify their respective highlights in order to credit them. We know that amid eighteen singers (who shifted places at times), the soloists were Sarah Brailey, Molly Netter, and Sherezade Pantheki, sopranos; Marc Day, Andrew Fuchs, and Timothy Hodges, Tenors; and bass, Craig Philips. All were excellent, with the sopranos standing out as particularly stellar.

One minor reservation arises, which is that, while the diction seemed fine among the choir as a whole, given the extremely reverberant acoustics (and the Latin text), the lay audience member may have not been able to follow exactly where he was in the mass without clearer listings in the program booklet (the Offertorium having been switched to be after the Benedictus, according to the notes but not in the program proper). It seems nitpicky, because one could simply enjoy, as did the ticketless museumgoers who drifted along the periphery of the hall to the ambient magic; the ticket price for the actual seated audience though, comes with a presumption of more than average interest in understanding or experiencing each moment to the fullest, rather than simply being steeped in the sounds, glorious though they were.

Minor program quibbles aside, the Clarion Choir’s performance was music-making by an ensemble of the highest echelon. Of special note will be their imminent release on the Naxos label of the recently discovered Passion Week by Maximilian Steinberg, a fascinating work, which they will surely perform to the hilt.

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

From the Midwest to Midtown: The Ann Arbor Pioneer High School Bands and the Edmond North High School Band in Review

Bob Rogers Travel presents The Ann Arbor Pioneer High School Bands (MI) and the Edmond North High School Band (OK)

David Leach, conductor; Brian Cook, conductor

Stern Auditorium at Carnegie Hall, New York, NY

April 28, 2016

We have often heard that the state of school music programs throughout the nation is in a sad state of affairs. Budget cuts, fewer students participating, and the shifting focus of schools on test scores are among the many reasons given. Evidently, the music programs in Ann Arbor Pioneer High School and Edmond North High School did not get the memo. These schools were on hand at Carnegie Hall on April 28, 2016 to showcase their talents, the Edmund North High School with their band led by Brian Cook, and the Ann Arbor Pioneer High School with three bands – the Wind Ensemble, the Concert Band, and the Symphony Band – all led by David A. Leach. Both schools sport impressive lists of awards and credentials. Mr. Leach and Mr. Cook are to be congratulated for their building of these school’s music programs into what they are today.

I have written often that I am a big fan of “band” music, and especially the younger players, so I was looking forward to this concert. Lest anyone think that this eternal band geek gives automatic raves, they should consider that I know all the tricks of the trade, that I cannot be fooled or dazzled by effects. Further, my expectations are higher for this very reason.

If I did not know any better, I would think that my earlier reviews of band concerts had been studied. Every one of my suggestions/gripes was accounted for:

Balanced instrumentation- i.e. no instrument(s) over-represented in proportion to others – check
Single stage seating set-up for all groups instead of shifting chairs after each group – check
Seating plan that is correct for the hall acoustic – check
Tuning including concert pitch B-flat for brass instruments – check

Of course, as much as I would like to take credit for all this, it is all in the playbook of the top-drawer directors that Mr. Leach and Mr. Cook are.

The members of the Ann Arbor Pioneer High School Wind Ensemble took to the stage to open the night. I watched the young players heading toward their seats, filing past a small metal trashcan festooned with stickers. I was wondering if there was some symbolic meaning to this, but that I figured would be cleared up at some point in the evening. They offered a single work, Paul Hindemith’s Symphonic Metamorphosis of Themes by Carl Maria von Weber, as transcribed by Hindemith’s Yale colleague, Keith Wilson. Arguably Hindemith’s most popular work, it is a challenge even for the most polished ensembles. The Wind Ensemble played with poise and confidence beyond their years. Other than a few issues, such as a tendency to push/pull in parts, and some very minor intonation problems in some of the more exposed sections, it was a fine start to the evening.

The Pioneer Concert Band was next, and they offered three works. John Mackey’s Xerxes was the first, a five-and-a-half minute march that paints a fine picture of the ruler’s less than stellar qualities. It is angry and nasty, as the program notes state, roaring throughout like a juggernaut – let one remember that Xerxes burnt Athens to the ground. It is an ingenious work (which one could say of almost everything that John Mackey writes) that was played to the hilt! Introduction and Fantasia, by Rex Mitchell followed, a chance for the players to show their skill in playing lush melodic material, with some spirited passagework interwoven throughout. It can be difficult to reign in the adrenaline, especially after the turbocharged testosterone of Xerxes, but it was accomplished with apparent ease. After this, it was time to fire up the engines again. The final work, Samuel R. Hazo’s Ride, is a musical “Mr. Toad’s Wild Ride,” inspired by Mr. Hazo’s hair-raising attempt to follow his mentor and colleague, the legendary Jack Stamp, to Mr. Stamp’s home via some country roads. Mr. Stamp likes to drive fast! It was a thrilling ride for the listener and a fine end to the first half.

After intermission, the Edmond North High School Band took the stage. Their first work, Abram’s Pursuit, by David Holsinger, was led by associate conductor Mitch Hebert. Abram, is of course, Abraham, who the program notes state was “(the) father of the Jewish nation, and a very close friend of God.” With such a close friend, it was no wonder that Abram was able to arm 318 servants to go liberate his kidnapped son Lot, and go Old Testament on a group of baddies including the kings of Sodom and Gomorrah (and that before his good friend took care of business once and for all). The work lived up to the story line, and the playing was equal to the task as well.

Brian Cook took the podium for October, an early work of Eric Whitacre. While known primarily for his vocal works, Whitacre has written a number of pieces for band. October is lush and romantic in the style of Vaughan Williams, but unmistakably Whitacre in the tonal language. The band played with good intonation, which is vital in Whitacre’s works, given the very close harmonies he is so well-known for employing. Just a little slip here or there can ruin the entire effect of the work. There were no such issues here. Another Samuel Hazo work, Arabesque, was the final selection. Filled with the mystical sounds of Middle Eastern music, it was given a sparkling performance. The audience, including members of the Pioneer Bands that had already performed, gave them a standing ovation, a nice gesture that made quite an impression on me.

The Pioneer Symphony Band took the stage to close the concert. Beginning with Paul Dukas’ fiendishly difficult Fanfare from La Peri for brass was crisp, well balanced, and precisely articulated. I’ve heard professional musicians make a mash of this on several occasions, so I was doubly impressed by the maturity of the playing. It was to be a recurring impression, from the charm of Percy Grainger’s Molly on the Shore, to the suave sophistication of Arturo Márquez’s Danzon No. 2 (made popular by Gustavo Dudamel), to the breathtaking beauty of Morten Lauridsen’s O Magnum Mysterium. Without taking anything away from the preceding ensembles, this was playing that truly was a cut above, and at a level I have rarely encountered. The showstopper Asphalt Cocktail, from John Mackey, was the final work. Quoting the composer, “it aims to capture the grit and aggression that I associate with the time I lived in New York.” The Symphony Band blew the roof off the building in a “no holds barred” performance. A member of the percussion section came to the front and picked up that metal trashcan that had been sitting on stage throughout. He held it up in the air for a moment, something I first thought was some sort of inside salute, but then proceeded to smash it down on a piece of wood on the stage over and over until it was dented. I laughed out loud – it was all part of the piece! When the frenzy all ended, the audience erupted into a standing ovation, one that these young players will remember for a lifetime.

One final thought – I have written on these pages on numerous occasions that I encourage the young ensembles to “go for it,” to set aside the “play it safe” mentality that is the product of playing for festival ratings. The quest for “superior” ratings has made many performances technically polished, but with a lack of personality, a homogeneity of sound that becomes stale upon repeated hearings. I am thrilled to report that these ensembles let loose with some of the most refreshingly brash and exciting playing I have heard at this level, or any level for that matter. There was nothing “safe” about it – I wanted to shout, “This is what I’m talking about!” This alone is what took what was an excellent concert into the truly memorable. Congratulations to all!

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

The Italian Institute of Culture in New York presents Luisa Sello and Bruno Canino in Review

Luisa Sello, flute

Bruno Canino, piano

Weill Recital Hall at Carnegie Hall, New York, NY

April 18, 2016

Many ensembles who perform the Romantic repertoire–and this program was permeated with it, including a Neo-Romantic work–can often play with such emotion, that precision is overlooked. But this Italian duo plays with both flair and polish. Luisa Sello plays her flute elegantly, with a sonorous low range and a sweet high, without ever being abrasive (unless she’s playing the music of Augusta Read Thomas, but more of that later). She and her pianist, Bruno Canino, chose a varied program that contained some beautiful showpieces on the second half and two serious staples on the first half: the music of Bach and the Neo-Romantic Carl Reinecke. The Bach Sonata in B Minor, BWV 1030 was played with excellent attention to ornaments and the detailed counterpoint at hand. One general quibble: in listening to this performance and other works on the program, I often wished for more defined phrasing of the longer musical line and less emphatic pronouncements of individual notes. Following the Bach was Reinecke’s Undine Sonata, Op. 167, a wonderful work that will always be a favorite of the flute repertoire, despite sounding like Prokofiev at times. The duo’s virtuosity was ever-present and sparkling with energy; there was a lovely mix of extroverted passion and genuine tenderness.

Alfredo Casella’s Barcarola e Scherzo is a charmer–a real delight, and it was played beautifully and with an engaging intensity throughout. Augusta Read Thomas’ Karumi, performed in its world premiere of a new version for solo alto flute, is not a particularly enjoyable piece for an audience at first hearing. It is the type of thorny modernist fare that can grow on you over time, although it is easy to imagine that flutists will have fun playing it because it explores the instrument so fully. Edgy attacks and silences abound, producing staggered musical lines; to some, this produces an emotional disconnect, but to others, raw emotion. In any case, Ms. Sello managed all challenges of this work admirably. Ezio Monti’s Rugiada for alto flute and piano in its American premiere is a solid piece that deserves multiple performances, as it is also thoroughly engrossing and memorable. The sole unfortunate aspect of this Monti performance that I’m sure the performers would agree with is that the alto flute’s pitch was occasionally sharp to the piano.

Returning to the flute, Ms. Sello played a brilliant technical rendering of the Ponchielli Fantasy on the opera La Gioconda (elaborated for flute and piano by Luigi Hugues). There was excellent breath control and an abundance of charm in her scale and arpeggio runs. Dynamic shading within the phrases was limited in Mr. Canino’s piano part, which sounded too pedantic and deliberate at times; this could have been his approach to the comical wit of the piece, but I was hoping for a more directional approach to phrasing. The pair saved the best for last in a colorful, blazing account of Bizet’s Carmen Fantasy (elaborated for flute and piano by Francis Borne). The drama of the opera truly came across (not an easy task with just flute and piano), as the light and darkness of the score’s dynamics and harmonies–the chiaroscuro, if you will–made for a gripping performance.

by Anthony Aibel for New York Concert Review; New York, NY

Ian Hobson, Pianist in Review

Ian Hobson, piano

Merkin Concert Hall, Kaufman Center, New York, NY

April 13, 2016

Ian Hobson has unusual stamina. He plays with an uncanny virtuosity. His interpretations are nuanced and fresh. Of those elements, the stamina aspect cannot be overstated here. He opened with Fauré’s Theme and Variations, Op. 73, then proceeded with Chopin’s Etudes, Op. 10, followed by Schumann’s Symphonic Etudes, Op. 13, and then concluded with none other than Rachmaninoff’s Preludes, Op. 32. There was exceptional pacing within each work, and he never tired technically or emotionally.

Mr. Hobson’s interpretation of the Fauré had the usual simplicity and delicacy of the French master, but also the extroverted tenderness of a young Brahms. There was beauteous and varied tone here, exquisite balance of the hands–featuring supremely delicate high notes, and the phrasing was also unique, with a favorability for stretching musical lines into very long phrases. The Chopin had a fleet-fingered leggiero (lightness of touch) when called upon, as in the opening Allegros, but also a profoundly warmer tone quality as needed–like No. 3, the E major Lento. No. 5, the G-flat major Vivace, had expert timing, with the subtlest of rubato. Even more endearing tempo fluctuations were evident in No. 8, the F major Allegro. No. 4 was facile and precise, especially in the left hand. It was only in No. 11, that a few phrases were glossed over.

The Schumann Etudes, really a Theme and Variations, which Brahms would also master, is symphonic in ways that Schumann’s symphonies tried to be but couldn’t. Brahms achieved in his symphonies what Schumann lacked: varied colors and depth in the orchestration. Mr. Hobson performed this Schumann evoking an orchestra, seemingly turning left hand dotted rhythms into cellos and basses, sometimes a low brass section. In the fourth etude, the punctuated chords were pungent in a way that a woodwind section can pierce through a tonal fabric, and the lyrical right hand was reminiscent of violas, clarinets, and silky smooth violins on top. Emotionally speaking, there was a wonderful mix of relaxed moods and stormy agitato befitting Schumann’s inner torment. The memorable finale was fiery and propulsive–emotionally obsessive at times–with a welcome, exaggerated attention to harmonic detail, like when the chord pattern climactically changes to the major key–as in the end of Bolero, when it surprisingly shifts to E major. Hobson’s Rachmaninoff contained both soul and a soul-searching quality. The peaks were timed beautifully; during grandiose moments, the bass was powerful but never distorted or over-pedaled, as sometimes is the case. His encore was Rachmaninoff’s last work–from 1941, an arrangement of a Tchaikovsky Lullaby: the A-flat “Cradle Song” from Six Romances, Op. 16.

by Anthony Aibel for New York Concert Review; New York, NY

Distinguished Concerts International New York (DCINY) presents Misatango 20th Anniversary in Review

Distinguished Concerts International New York (DCINY) presents Misatango 20th Anniversary

Distinguished Concerts Orchestra; Distinguished Concerts Singers International

Martín Palmeri, composer/conductor

Maine Festival Chorus

Richard Nickerson, Robert Westerberg, co-directors; Darrell Morrow, accompanist

Stern Auditorium at Carnegie Hall, New York, NY

April 17, 2016

On April 17, 2016, Distinguished Concerts International New York (DCINY) presented a concert to celebrate the 20th anniversary of the composition of Misa A Buenos Aires, more widely known by its subtitle Misatango: A Tango Mass from Argentina. What better way to way to bring in the spring season than with the vibrant, lively sounds of far away Argentina, courtesy of performers from France, Germany, Poland, The Netherlands, Switzerland, and of course, Argentina. Also featured was the Maine Festival Chorus, in what was to be a most enjoyable evening.

The Maine Festival Chorus took the stage for the first half. Led by Co-directors Richard Nickerson and Robert Westerberg, this fine ensemble offered eight works. Mr. Westerberg led the first four works, and Mr. Nickerson, the final four. They wasted no time in announcing their presence in an arresting opener- Williametta Spencer’s At the Rounded Earth’s Imagined Corners. Set to the text of John Donne’s Holy Sonnet 7 of the same name, this work captures the essence of Donne’s shattering words with consummate skill. It’s highly unusual for me to find an opening work as my favorite, but this was far and away the case, in what was simply a first-rate performance. The touching For the Beauty of the Earth by Philip Stopford, and Twilight on the Beach by Andrew Hurst, a musical rendering of the Maine coast, followed. The last of Mr. Westerberg’s set was the joyous Alleluia of Paul Basler, with the added talents of French Horn player Justin Drew. Mr. Nickerson took the baton and opened his portion with Lamentations of Jeremiah by Z. Randall Stroope. This piece reminds one of Carl Orff’s O Fortuna from Carmina Burana with its driving intensity. Jenny by Nick Myers was a heartbreaking song of a lost love that had many in the audience in tears. The poignant Scottish anthem Caledonia by Dougie Maclean (arranged by Richard Nickerson) was lovely. Keith Hampton’s jubilant A Shout of Praise was like a victory lap for this ensemble, and ended their part of the program in triumph.

Some general observations – balance was superb throughout, with a rich sound of middle and lower voices that are often covered by the higher ones. Diction and intonation were spotless. The Maine Festival Chorus is one of the best vocal ensembles I have heard, and I have heard many excellent ones. Congratulations to the singers, and to Mr. Nickerson and Mr. Westerberg!

After intermission, the stage was set for the featured work of the evening, Martín Palmeri’s Misatango. As the three hundred plus singers filed onto the stage, I was thinking back to the January 18, 2015 DCINY performance of this work. I had had my doubts about concept of tango music with the Mass (largely fueled by my earlier hearing of another Mass using non-traditional form that I found to be problematic), but was won over in the end. What was of particular interest for me on this occasion was that the composer himself was to conduct.

As I wrote in January 2015, Misatango is a six-movement work scored for chorus, string orchestra, bandoneón (for this performance there were three bandoneón players), and mezzo-soprano soloist. Quoting Mr. Palmeri, “…my objective in this composition was to maintain the harmonic language, rhythms, melodic designs, and all the characteristics of the tango within the orchestra score, thus allowing the chorus to have the full liberty to ‘just sing the mass.’” It seems to be completely counter-intuitive, but it works, and it works brilliantly. From the quasi-cadenza bandoneón solo that opened the Kyrie to the last note of the serene Agnus Dei, it was passion-plus that captured the hearts of the audience (who broke convention over and over with boisterous applause between movements). As was the case in 2015, the Credo was my favorite, but I also found the Benedictus to be especially beautiful. Of course, all six movements command attention. Soprano Carla Filipcic Holm was a revelation; her voice soared to the heavens with angelic grace, but she also possessed striking power and intensity. Kudos as well to the three bandoneón players, Daniel Binelli, Emmanuel Trifilio, and Rodolfo Marcelo Zanetti.

After the music of the Agnus Dei faded to silence, the audience reacted with a thunderous ovation. Mr. Palmeri then encored a section of the Credo, to the delight of all.

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

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