Distinguished Concerts International New York (DCINY) presents Reflections of Peace in Review

Distinguished Concerts International New York (DCINY) presents Reflections of Peace in Review

Distinguished Concerts International New York (DCINY) presents Reflections of Peace
Flutopia Wind Ensemble, Jennifer Lapple, director
Catherine Sailer, guest conductor
Angela Mannino, soprano; Kirsten Allegri, mezzo-soprano; Jeremy Little, tenor; Steven Taylor, bass
James M. Meaders, DCINY Associate Artistic Director and conductor
Kim André Arnesen, visiting composer
Viola Dacus, mezzo-soprano; Aria Manning, youth soprano soloist
Distinguished Concerts Orchestra; Distinguished Concerts Singers International
Stern Auditorium, Carnegie Hall, New York, NY
January 16, 2017

 

In a second concert this past weekend to commemorate Martin Luther King Jr. Day, Distinguished Concerts International New York (DCINY) presented a concert entitled Reflections of Peace. It centered on two large works, the Missa In Angustiis of Haydn and the New York City premiere of Kim André Arnesen’s Requiem. The talented youth wind ensemble Flutopia was also featured.

The Flutopia Wind Ensemble took to the stage for the first half. Led by Jennifer Lapple, Flutopia is comprised of high school wind players from the Washington, D.C., and Northern Virginia areas. This was their third appearance in a DCINY event and the second time this reviewer has had the pleasure of hearing them. The name suggests a “flute-centric” ensemble, but this was less the case on this occasion (the number of clarinets being only one fewer than the flutes). I was intrigued by the bottom-to -top tuning approach (tubas first, then rising until reaching the high woodwinds), which was to pay off handsomely.

Opening with the finale of Tchaikovsky’s 4th Symphony, things got off to a slightly rough start, as the brass attacks were tentative, which led to some cracked notes. I cannot emphasize enough to young players to that “playing it safe” is anything but safe. Be bold and confident! Happily, these were isolated occurrences and the growing confidence took over in what was a solid performance. Following with an arrangement of Debussy’s L’isle joyeuse, the young players did the maximum that this arrangement allows. There is a certain sensuousness in the original piano version that is difficult to bring to a wind arrangement on a level appropriate for a young ensemble. Eric Whitacre’s Lux Aurumque followed the Debussy, and proved to be the highlight of Flutopia’s offerings. Intonation and balance were perfect, in a way that I have seldom heard from such a young ensemble. Whitacre’s characteristic textures, with very close intervals, radiated with real beauty. Armenian Dances, based on folk songs from the works of Gomidas Vartabed (also commonly known as Komitas) was the final selection. In a very effective arrangement by Alfred Reed, Flutopia played with brio and polish. Their many supporters gave them a standing ovation, and it was especially delightful to see the beaming smiles on the faces of the young performers. Well done!

After intermission, Catherine Sailer took the podium to lead Haydn’s Missa In Angustiis (Mass in Time of Anxiety), also called the “Lord Nelson Mass”. There does not seem to be any definitive agreement about how the name of Horatio Nelson became attached to this work; a possible explanation, however, was that Nelson visited the house of Esterhazy in 1800 and heard a performance of the work. All this speculation about titles aside, this work, written in 1798, is Haydn at his greatest – the master at work.

Maestra Sailer led with confidence. It was readily apparent that she was prepared with a clear-cut plan of what she wanted and how to get it. Haydn’s large conception was well rendered, but the small details were not overlooked. It might sound trite, but this was a first-rate musician leading a first-rate performance.

The soloists all earned their stars as well. Their parts are not trifles to be dashed off; they are demanding and a challenge for any singer. Kudos to soprano Angela Mannino, mezzo-soprano Kirsten Allegri, tenor Jeremy Little, and bass Steven Taylor for their outstanding singing. Congratulations to the chorus and orchestra are in order as well.

After a brief pause, James M. Meaders took the podium to conduct the New York City premiere of the Requiem by Kim André Arnesen (b. 1980). Mr. Arnesen’s work is in eight movements – six from the traditional mass and the remaining two using texts from Emily Dickinson (Not in Vain), and a slightly modified We Remember Them from the Jewish Book of Prayer.

Mr. Arnesen writes in the program notes of his “fascination with Requiems…I discovered the Requiems by Fauré, Duruflé, Lloyd-Webber, Schnittke, and many others,” and his desire to compose his own Requiem. This admission is telling, for while I cannot point to a definitive example, I had the feeling that the composer was trying to emulate the best of his many famous predecessors. This is not saying that his work is completely derivative, as it is not, as Mr. Arnesen ‘s effective use of the full battery of percussion is a welcome addition to the form. He also has a strong melodic gift, which was especially apparent in the trumpet solos in Not in Vain, Lacrimosa, and Rex Tremendae movements.

The chorus gets high marks for the clarity of diction in the Dies Irae in some high-speed passages. Coupled with the pulsing percussion, it was the highlight of the work for this listener. Just after that, DCINY favorite, mezzo-soprano Viola Dacus, used her vocal gifts to express the poignancy of Dickinson’s text in the Not in Vain movement. She sang with a simple grace that was very moving to this listener. Young soloist Aria Manning has a lovely voice that shows the promise of bright future.

After the quiet ending of the We Remember movement, the audience rewarded the performers with a standing ovation. Mr. Arnesen came to the stage to accept well-deserved congratulations.

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by Jeffrey Williams  for New York Concert Review; New York, NY
Distinguished Concerts International New York (DCINY) presents The Music of Sir Karl Jenkins in Review

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

Distinguished Concerts International New York (DCINY) presents The Music of Sir Karl Jenkins
Jonathan Griffith, DCINY Artist Director/Principal Conductor
Sir Karl Jenkins, DCINY Compose-in-Residence
Joanie Brittingham, soprano; Holly Sorensen, mezzo-soprano; James Nyoraku Schlefer, shakuhachi; Catrin Finch, harp; Mark Walters, baritone; Jorge Ávila, violin; David Childs, euphonium
Distinguished Concerts Orchestra
Distinguished Concerts Singers International
Stern Auditorium at Carnegie Hall, New York, NY
January 15, 2017

 

On what has become an annual event, Distinguished Concerts International New York (DCINY) presented a concert featuring the music of Karl Jenkins in commemoration of Martin Luther King Jr. Day. In a January 15, 2017 concert entitled simply “The Music of Sir Karl Jenkins” (as he is styled after his 2015 knighting), two works were offered, the Requiem, and the North American premiere (and only 2nd performance anywhere) of Cantata Memoria: For the Children. Both works also featured a film to go along with the music. Fans of Sir Karl had the opportunity to meet and greet him after the concert and to have the recent CD of Cantata Memoria signed.

The hall was abuzz long before the concert began, even more so than usual for a DCINY event. Friends and family in the audience shouted out to their stars and one could feel the electricity in the air. With singers from Mississippi, New Jersey, New York, Washington, Australia, Finland Germany, New Zealand, Spain, Switzerland, United Kingdom, and “individual singers around the globe,” the stage was set for a memorable night.

The concert opened with the Requiem. Dedicated to the composer’s late father, the Requiem combines elements of the traditional mass with five Japanese haiku “death” poems. The shakuhachi, an ancient wind instrument, figured prominently in the haiku sections.

Before anything else, I want to express my feelings regarding the accompanying film for this work. Usually I would expect some strong correlation to the text/music, but this was not the case. Furthermore, in some sections, the same montage recycled several times (at least three in the Dies Irae) to the point where one felt exasperated. As the film adds nothing, I would strongly suggest removing it from any future performance. The music is strong enough and meaningful enough to stand on its own without any artificial support.

Now that I have dispensed with that quibble, it is time to commend all for a wonderful performance of a moving work. Highlights for this listener were the Dies Irae (film notwithstanding), and the Lux aeterna. Special mention to harpist Catrin Finch, James Nyoraku Schlefer for his fine playing of the shakuhachi, and the lovely voices of soprano Joanie Brittingham and mezzo-soprano Holly Sorensen. The large chorus was well-prepared, with some very strong bass singers especially rising to the occasion. The audience rewarded all with the standing ovation that one usually hears at the end of a concert. It was a testament to a very successful first half.

Before the second half began, in what is also becoming a tradition, conductor Jonathan Griffith joined Karl Jenkins on stage for an impromptu conversation about the Cantata Memoria. Mr. Jenkins talked about of the history of the October 21, 1966 tragedy in Aberfan, Wales, when the collapse of a coal spoil tip killed 116 children and 28 adults. Mr. Jenkins said the memory as a Welshman was like “knowing where you were when President Kennedy was assassinated” to an American (and Maestro Griffith mentioned the Twin Towers as a reference point for younger persons). It was made clear that this tragedy is deeply entrenched in the hearts and minds of Welsh people. On a more upbeat note, Maestro Griffith mentioned that DCINY has commissioned Mr. Jenkins to write a new work commemorating the 10th anniversary of DCINY for a performance in January 2018.

Going into detail about the Aberfan tragedy is well beyond the scope of this review, but I highly recommend the well-written and comprehensive article on Wikipedia. Click the following link to access – Wikipedia- Aberfan Tragedy

Quoting the composer- “The work is in two distinct sections but performed continuously. The first deals with the tragedy and the immediate aftermath, and the second moves from darkness to light, reliving memories and celebrating childhood, ending with the Lux aeterna.” He also states that it “is not a documentary, nor even a dramatization, but it does include ideas and facts that were relevant and by now part of the legacy.”

This reviewer had seen the broadcast of the World Premiere in Wales, and also has the recording recently released by Deutsche Grammophon, so I was especially interested to see how an actual live performance would compare. It exceeded all my expectations.

The accompanying film, in this case, lent additional meaning and deepened the effect of the music, especially in the actual footage of the immediate aftermath of the tragedy. While the music certainly does not require the film, the film itself does not in any way distract or lessen the meaning or power of the music itself.

The music may not be a dramatization (as per the composer), but there are musical “suggestions” of events, i.e. the rumbling in the opening movement Pitran, patran foreshadowing the collapse of the coal spoil tip.

The names of all the victims were recited in the third movement Cortège (in a chant-like manner on a B-flat throughout), with those same names appearing on the film until the screen was literally filled with names. It was a reminder that this tragedy was not just about the numbers lost, but the very real lives snuffed out, the majority of them just beginning. Combined with the footage of the funerals, with countless tiny coffins, it was heartbreaking (and even though I knew the content and what was coming, it still had me in tears). Cortège ended with the baritone soloist Mark Walters quoting the denunciation by a victim’s father, “Buried alive by the National Coal Board.”

Lament to the Valley which followed was hauntingly beautiful. I suspect it will have many a performance independent of the entire work. DCINY concertmaster Jorge Ávila was superb as he played the lyrical sections with emotion without ever making them maudlin, and he handled the virtuosic sections with an understated flair that was perfect. The Lament was the highlight of the Cantata for this listener.

The bird-like singing of soprano Joanie Brittingham in Did I hear a bird? was delightful – the highlight of her outstanding solo work. Baritone Mark Walters was a force as well, with his powerful voice projecting well into the auditorium.

Of the remaining sections, I would like to single out And-a half as a favorite, with the child-like “one-upmanship” the theme which only could make one laugh and smile.

The final movement, Lux aeterna, is “borrowed” from the Requiem. Ending with the soprano soloist singing the word “Light,” the circle from darkness to light was closed.

Maestro Griffith led the large forces with his customary steady hand, maintaining complete control in a way that always appears to be effortless, which it is certainly not! The chorus is to be congratulated on a very polished performance which suggested a high level of preparation. This review would not be complete without the mention of harpist Catrin Finch and euphonium virtuoso David Childs, both of whom were featured in the world premiere and lent their unmatched talents to this performance.

 Cantata Memoria is a work that takes the listener to the depths of despair and heartache, then lifts them back out with a message of hope and light. It was an incredibly moving experience.

Audience members sprung to their feet with a standing ovation that became a roar when Mr. Jenkins came to the stage. I am already looking forward to January 2018. Bravo to all!

 

 

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by Jeffrey Williams  for New York Concert Review; New York, NY
The Sheen Center for Thought and Culture Classical Music Series curated by Mark Kaplan presents the Parker Quartet in Review

The Sheen Center for Thought and Culture Classical Music Series curated by Mark Kaplan presents the Parker Quartet in Review

Parker Quartet
Daniel Chong, violin; Ying Xue, violin; Jessica Bodner, viola; Kee-Hyun Kim, cello
Featuring special guest Charles Neidich, clarinet
Loreto Theater, New York, NY
Thursday, January 12, 2017

The Parker Quartet needs no advocacy from me—they are Grammy winners, artists-in-residence at both Harvard and USC, and regularly tour, record, and perform with the world’s finest collaborators. Their program was beautifully conceived: two major works, each by a classical/romanticist (or a romantic/classicist, if you prefer)—Mendelssohn’s first essay in the string quartet, and Brahms’ sentiment-drenched, nearly-final chamber work. Both works are also cyclical (music from the first movement recurs at or near the end of the final movement). The concert was without intermission, a form which appeals to me (and apparently to audiences).

Due to a colossal GPS/GoogleMaps failure, this reviewer was late to the hall, and had to witness the Mendelssohn from the lobby on a TV screen with sub-par volume. Therefore, the comments in most detail will be directed at the Brahms.

Mendelssohn’s opening gesture from the E -flat tonic triad up to D-flat seems to embody a world of yearning “just out of reach,” and is indebted to Beethoven’s Op. 74 as well. The Canzonetta in G minor (with faster scherzando middle section) may have inspired his colleague Robert Schumann in the final movement of Kreisleriana. The Andante espressivo in B-flat major leads without pause into the finale, which spends most of its time in C minor, until the cyclic coda resolves to E-flat major. In 1830, Mendelssohn added a secret dedication on the manuscript of Op. 12 to “B.P.” (Betty Pistor, 1808-1887), a member of the Singakademie conducted by Zelter, for which Felix was accompanist. He had a teen crush on her. B-flat up to E- flat- “Bes,” three musical letters of her name, forms a prominent thematic element. After he learned of her engagement to Rudorff, he had his friend Ferdinand David change the P to an R.

From what I was able to see (primarily) in the lobby, the quartet’s visual synchronization was a marvel, and their energy infectious. Of course, their intonation and phrasing were impeccable. Their choices were those of youth and impetuosity, certainly valid in the case of Mendelssohn, his infatuation, and their own youth. There may be, however, other nuances, less vehement, more in the direction of elegance and even restraint, that they will discover as they mature. Nevertheless, to play at this level is a marvel.

Brahms described his Quintet for clarinet and string quartet as “a far greater folly” (than the clarinet/cello/piano trio). It was conceived for Richard Mühlfeld (1856-1907), originally a violinist and self-taught clarinetist (!), who played in the Meiningen and Bayreuth orchestras, and whom the normally gruff Brahms called “Fräulein Klarinette,” “my dear nightingale,” “my Primadonna,” and “Fräulein von Mühlfeld.” Tonight, the legendary Charles Neidich expressed the clarinet part from the most lyrical place imaginable—his lifetime of living with the single-line instrument leaving no inflection unexplored, no color unpainted, our dear nightingale indeed. It was a master class for all musicians, really. Here, I felt the Parkers could have provided a deeper, darker velvet carpet for the clarinet to “walk” on. Though the ensemble was perfect, particularly the way the violist leaned physically toward her clarinet neighbor, the strings’ inflections were “paler” than the clarinet, sometimes giving the impression of a background rather than a full chamber texture. (I realize I am nit-picking!) They understood and reflected every harmony and texture, however. The Adagio had a beautiful meditative, rapt quality. The balance issue was overcome beautifully in the third movement, which suddenly sprang to full life and energy, and mostly in the fourth movement, where the final return of the first movement’s sadness was rendered in appropriately awestruck hushed tones.

 

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by Frank Daykin  for New York Concert Review; New York, NY
Foundation of M. K. Čiurlionis presents Victor Paukštelis in Review

Foundation of M. K. Čiurlionis presents Victor Paukštelis in Review

Foundation of M. K. Čiurlionis presents Victor Paukštelis
Victor Paukštelis,piano
Weill Recital Hall at Carnegie Hall, New York, NY
November 30, 2016

 

It is a pleasure to review the fine Lithuanian pianist Victor Paukštelis in what was his second New York concert at Weill Recital Hall at Carnegie Hall. Just last year he presented a recital in the same venue and was quite favorably reviewed by David La Marche for New York Concert Review (as the reader can see here: Review). I was delighted to find, after forming my own opinions, that Mr. La Marche and I had at least two strong points of agreement.

The first point is that Mr. Paukštelis possesses an admirable sense of architecture in the building of a program. That is no minor achievement. His sequence of selections was expertly conceived in terms of length, key, style, and emotion. On this occasion his opening of Handel’s Suite in E major (HWV. 430) established a tone of regal dignity and contemplation, inviting us to join his musical journey with confidence. (If this artist’s dual career as a pianist and painter had raised any questions about his ability to keep up with the monomaniacal pianists of today, any doubts were quickly dispelled.)

It made good sense to follow with Beethoven, one of Handel’s great admirers, and the flow was perfect key-wise to the Sonata Quasi Una Fantasia in C-sharp minor, Op. 27, No.2 (popularly called the “Moonlight Sonata”), which the pianist paced beautifully from its meditative start through to its stormy third-movement bursts.

Then, instead of intermission in this taut hour-long program, Mr. Paukštelis offered what amounted to a musical breather via three brief works by Estonian composer Arvo Pärt (b. 1935), the Variations for the Healing of Arinuschka, Für Alina, and Anna Maria. Those who know the style of Pärt (sometimes called a “holy minimalist”) know that it can transport a listener to another universe through sheer purity of tone and texture, so these works were in effect their own “intermission” (sans chattering crowds) – an ingenious touch. The pianist played all three with refinement and sensitivity.

One was then ready to be swept up in the Romanticism of Chopin’s Ballade No. 1 in G minor and Scriabin’s mystical and fiery Sonata No. 5, Op. 53 for a close. The dramatic trajectory was perfect, and it was all a captivating musical journey just shy of an hour, not including four encores (a good fifteen minutes worth).

My second point of agreement with the prior New York review is that Mr. Paukštelis is (as David La Marche aptly states) “a highly individual artist with a very clear vision.” A testament to this pianist’s strong individuality of conception is that he gave a feeling of newness and energy to works which are anything but new (with the exception of the Pärt). The Handel is a four-movement suite closing with a set of five variations on one of Handel’s most famous themes (known as the “Harmonious Blacksmith”). In the wrong hands it can sound stale, but Mr. Paukštelis, though his attentive articulations, strong sense of shape, and most of all deep connection to the music, gave it a bold energy that made it feel new.

The Handel wasn’t the only one of the evening’s selections belonging to that paradoxical category of works “so overdone that no one does them.” Beethoven’s “Moonlight” Sonata, attempted by nearly every intermediate piano student, falls squarely in this category, but the artistic Mr. Paukštelis breathed life into it it from its dreamy Adagio sostenuto to the gracious Allegretto and the impassioned Presto agitato. His playing had involvement, insight, and intensity. Though I had very few quibbles (including perhaps an excessive pedal blur in the last movement chromatic scale), criticisms seem moot in the light of such a persuasive conception.

Chopin’s Ballade in G minor, another top-ten list piece for pianists, followed suit – remarkably expressive in this pianist’s hands, but without the gnashing of teeth and histrionics that it sometimes arouses. It was thoughtfully conceived and held the audience rapt.

Among reservations, this listener prefers a deeper, fuller sound at Chopin’s peaks, some of which were a tad brittle. Similarly, in Scriabin’s Op. 53, one wanted to feel a bit more unleashing of power and abandon, where the emphasis seemed instead to be on precise articulation. Again, though, there did seem to be integrity and intelligence behind just about every decision.

Though it seems nitpicky to comment on administrative details, Mr. Paukštelis deserved to have had biographical notes that are in clearer English without so many typographical errors. He filled a hall amply with responsive listeners and will surely fill it more next time. He deserves to be well presented.

Standing ovations were met with several encores including Chopin’s Scherzo in B minor, Op. 20, the Tambourin from the Suite in E minor by Rameau, and the Sarabande from the English Suite in G minor. I look forward to hearing this pianist again.

 

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by Rorianne Schrade  for New York Concert Review; New York, NY
Distinguished Concerts International New York (DCINY) presents Go Sing it on the Mountain in Review

Distinguished Concerts International New York (DCINY) presents Go Sing it on the Mountain in Review

Distinguished Concerts International New York (DCINY) presents Go Sing it on the Mountain
Distinguished Concerts Orchestra, Distinguished Concert Singers International, Pennsbury High School Concert Choir
James D. Moyer, director; Pepper Choplin, composer/conductor
Julianna Massielo, soprano; Ethan Barr, baritone; James T. Moyer, baritone; David Enlow, organist; Emily Drennan, soprano
Alice Tully Hall, Lincoln Center, New York, NY
November 28, 2016

‘Tis the season! With throngs of eager shoppers being coaxed into action by the myriad sales and specials that many stores are offering, it is a time of frantic activity that can try the hardiest of souls. As an antidote to this, Distinguished Concerts International New York (DCINY) offered a concert entitled Go Sing it on the Mountain, on November 28, 2016 at Alice Tully Hall. Consisting of two works, the much-loved Requiem from Gabriel Fauré, and the New York premiere of Go Sing it on the Mountain by DCINY favorite Pepper Choplin. With singers from North Carolina, Connecticut, Indiana, Ohio, Pennsylvania, and Washington, it was a concert to re-charge the weary soul.

James D. Moyer took the podium to conduct the Fauré Requiem. As I wrote in an earlier performance (June 7, 2015) about the Requiem: “Fauré began writing the Requiem in 1877, but did not complete it in its final orchestration until 1900. One of the best-loved works in this form, Fauré’s vision of death as a ‘happy deliverance…rather than a mournful passing,’ did not find favor with his employers at La Madeleine, one of the largest churches in Paris. One of the clerics there tartly remarked, “Monsieur Fauré, we do not need these novelties. The Madeleine’s repertoire is quite rich enough.” No doubt his omission of the fearful Dies Irae, the core of the Latin requiem mass, had something to do with this remark. One can say that Fauré won in the end, as this serene work continues to enchant listeners with its beauty.”

Tonight’s performance was a version for organ and chorus, with the excellent David Enlow at the Tully Hall organ, and the talented Pennsbury High School Choir from Pennsylvania. I was curious to see how these sixty-eight young singers were going to fare, due to what I (and many others) believe is a less than ideal hall acoustically (even after renovations to address this issue). It does appeared that the Tully Hall organ fared well, with what seemed increased heft in the lower register.

The three soloists (baritones Ethan Barr and James T. Moyer, and soprano Julianna Massielo) all delivered commendable performances, with kudos for Mr. Barr for keeping his focus when his solo became a “duet” with a toddler, whose screaming nearly drowned out everything. Kudos also to Mr. Moyer and Ms. Massielo, whose voices projected quite well. Mr. Enlow gave an outstanding performance.

While there were some minor issues with intonation and ensemble, the chorus was up to the challenge, and captured the essence of the work, saving the best for the last in the sublime In Paradisum. The audience was filled with supporters, and they gave their stars a loud and long ovation, that continued even as the stage was nearly empty. It was something that this sometimes jaded reviewer found touching. Well done, Pennsbury High School Choir and Mr. Moyer!

After intermission, the ebullient Pepper Choplin took the podium to conduct his work Go Sing it on the Mountain. Following the mountain theme, Go Sing it on the Mountain is a nine-movement work that uses folk tunes to tell the Christmas story (for the texts click here: Program Notes ). Some of the tunes use new texts devised by Mr. Choplin, while others use varying techniques (multi-layering of voices, combining melodies, etc.) to great effect. Each movement is preceded by a narrative written by the composer. Mr. Choplin is a man of deep faith, and his work is a natural expression of this. This reviewer has the utmost admiration for Mr. Choplin’s strength of mission, especially in a world today that often scorns or is outright hostile to such a stance.

One must also acknowledge the narrators, who were uncredited in the program notes, for their passionate readings. While these readings add luster, they could be set aside for non-secular sensitivities without any loss of the glory of the music.

Soprano soloist Emily Drennan, whom I had the pleasure of hearing in an earlier performance of Mr. Choplin’s song Circle of Love (A DCINY concert entitled Bluegrass57@7 on February 18, 2013), was delightful with her passionate delivery throughout. Her voice is ideal for these pieces, from the child-like innocence of A Child is Gonna Come, to the unbridled joy of Go Sing it on the Mountain, but she saved her best for Star Eternal, which soared to the heavens.

Highlights for this listener included the rousing opening movement Rise, O People and Bring Good News, the simple beauty of Call His Name Jesus, and the Appalachian-tinged Angel Band. Go Sing it on the Mountain is a welcome addition to the Christmas repertoire.

After the jubilant last words of the final movement Joyous Nowell to the World rang out with “The Lord has come!” the large audience rose to give Mr. Choplin a well-earned standing ovation. It was a fitting end to the evening.

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by Jeffrey Williams  for New York Concert Review; New York, NY
DCINY presents Messiah…Refreshed!

DCINY presents Messiah…Refreshed!

Distinguished Concerts Orchestra and Distinguished Concerts Singers International
Jonathan Griffith, Conductor
Penelope Shumate, Soprano
Claudia Chapa, Mezzo-Soprano
John McVeigh, Tenor
Christopher Job, Bariton
Sunday, November 27, 2016, 2 PM
Carnegie Hall, Stern Auditorium

 

Well, the holiday season is officially here, with the sixth annual presentation of Messiah in the “inflated” version commissioned by Sir Thomas Beecham from Eugene Goossens for the Handel death-bicentennial in 1959. I shall try not to be too Scrooge-like about it, that wouldn’t really be in the spirit of things! I first heard (and reviewed) this version two years ago with pleasure, and the interpretation is remarkably consistent across that time. Only the mezzo-soprano was different (and of course the massed choirs). The whole endeavor, powered by Jonathan Griffith’s committed conducting, gives enjoyment to the performers and to their audience, so after all it must be counted a success, even if one has quibbles with specifics.

Is there any other single work that so identifies its composer, almost to the exclusion of Handel’s numerous other worthy genres: opera, cantata, organ music, anthems, even the other oratorios?

The grand old tradition of Handel-tampering, of course, began with Handel himself and continued through Mozart, Hiller, and many others. Gigantism began as early as 1784 in British performances of the then hallowed Handel with a 513-performer rendition. The European Magazine wrote: “The immense volume and torrent of sound was almost too much for the head or the sense to bear—we were elevated into a species of delirium.” Sir Joshua Reynolds wrote: “I was so delighted that I thought myself in the heavenly regions. The Harmony so unbroken that is was like the fall of Waters from one source, imperceptibly blended. The Spectacle too was sublime, So universal a silence, So great a number of people.” In an 1857 British performance, there were 2000 vocal and 500 instrumental forces. In 1859: 2765 singers, 450 instruments. In 1883: 4000 singers, 500 instruments. Objections to these outsize forces were also found as early as the beginning of the nineteenth century, but they were outweighed by Victorian reverence for Handel combined with the explosive growth of choral societies. G.B. Shaw, in the early twentieth century, also pleaded for something closer to what Handel might have known: “People think that four thousand singers must be four thousand times as impressive as one. This is a mistake: they are not even louder.”

I will confess that when I counted upwards of 400 names in the choral listing in the program booklet, I was a bit nervous. However, Griffith seems to have selected about half of them for Part 1 duty, then they retire to the balconies on either side of the audience, and after intermission the other half performs Parts 2 & 3. Choir 1 did not have clean runs; but Choir 2 did, and Griffith was quite merciless in pursuing brisk tempi that almost prevented anything but a choral smudge. Their block chord work however, was mostly exciting, and he even managed to elicit a few softer sounds from these large forces. All 400-plus joined together for the “Hallelujah” chorus and the concluding “Worthy is the lamb that was slain” for a truly thrilling sound that had actually been missing most of the afternoon in the “mere” 200-voice choirs. Even some audience members couldn’t resist the temptation to add their voices to the mix during “Hallelujah.”

Handel began work in 1741 in London on Messiah for a series of concerts for Irish charities, at the invitation of William Cavendish; the series would include many other works as well. Handel started on 22 August, Part 1 was complete by 28 August, Part 2 by 6 September, and Part 3 on 12 September. A few more days were added, polishing up the results, twenty-four days in all. Of course none of this could have happened without Handel’s well-known recourse to self-borrowing, or even appropriation from other composers, for which he was taken to task more than once in his lifetime. (Although William Boyce reportedly said: “He takes other men’s pebbles and polishes them into diamonds.”) Handel also reworked many numbers from it considerably over the years. Handel himself associated the performance of Messiah with Easter, but modern practice also favors Christmas—the text, dubbed a “Scripture collection” by its creator Charles Jennens, outlines all the festivals of the Christian church-year.

The premiere was in Dublin, 13 April 1742 (at noon), at the New Musick Hall in Fishamble Street, seat of the Charitable Musical Society. The audience capacity was between 600 and 700. Handel had to provide his own organ (portable, called a “bureau” organ) since there was none in the hall. Several of his own organ concerti were also on the bill with Messiah in what must have been a long afternoon of music. The chorus consisted of thirty-two: sixteen men and sixteen boys. The solos were considered so taxing that there was more than one soloist for each voice type.

Today’s soloists were uniformly excellent, with soprano Penelope Shumate and her sparkling coloratura perfection in “Rejoice greatly” and a very affecting “I know that my Redeemer liveth,” though at times her English had an “Italian” accent with many schwas at the end of words (they add clarity, but can be overdone). Claudia Chapa, mezzo-soprano, sang with absolute heart, so much so that I wished “He was despised” was not cut, but would go on forever (I really wanted to hear how she would express “He gave his back to the smiters.”). All afternoon her phrases were of admirable length, she seems to have unlimited air supply. Tenor John McVeigh reprised the sweet lyric quality that I remember so well from two years ago, tending to shade a bit sharp (nerves?) near the beginning, and once in a while chopping up phrases or single words instead of sustaining a legato. His “Behold and see if there is any sorrow” was beautiful. His most endearing trait was the attention he paid to his other colleagues when they were singing their solos, he even turned to face the chorus with an air of painful surprise as they hurled their accusatory “He trusted in God that he would deliver him,” before returning to face forward. Bass Christopher Job again had the perfect sound for the punishing “The trumpet shall sound,” but there were some weird additional musical lines in the orchestra during “The people that walked in darkness” that threatened to “like sheep,” lead the music astray. All the soloists risked being overbalanced by the heavier orchestra, but only at times (too much cymbal!)

May I suggest that Maestro Griffith go ahead and make his own version of this version, so to speak, removing some of the dated bombast and perhaps clarifying a few textures here and there? I do admire his devotion to this “relic” however. By the way, since this is not only about the massed choirs, but a substantial re-orchestration, the fact that the excellent orchestra is not listed person-by-person in the program is a grave injustice. The concertmaster is excellent, and the clarino trumpet was superb. The hushed return of the A section of the “Pifa” (Pastoral Symphony) was gorgeous, as it was two years ago.

The work affords the chance for these dedicated multi-state and international choruses, whose individual conductors were acknowledged at the end, the thrill of a holiday trip to New York and the unparalleled experience of singing on the main stage of Carnegie Hall. Bravo to all, and happy holidays!

 

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by Frank Daykin  for New York Concert Review; New York, NY
Foresight Leadership Foundation presents Magnum Opus International Speech and Drama Competition

Foresight Leadership Foundation presents Magnum Opus International Speech and Drama Competition

Winners Showcase Festival in Review
Magnum Opus International Speech and Drama Competition Winners Showcase Festival
Weill Hall at Carnegie Hall, New York, NY
November 11, 2016

The Magnum Opus Festival presented an appealing array of young actors at the Winners Showcase of their Shakespeare Extravaganza Competition. The actors showcased their talents in Shakespearean monologues and more modern works–plus acting or lecturing/public-speaking their own topics and creative material.

The evening opened with 17-year-old Hansen Ze Liang Zeng performing Shakespeare’s Sonnet 130 and an excerpt from Act II, Scene 2 of Romeo and Juliet. His native accent was detectable, with some diction issues and rushing at the ends of words and phrases, but he maintained good projection throughout. 8-year-old David Zhang performed Mary O’Neill’s Wind Pictures. He projected clearly to those in the audience and had an excellent sense of movement, with variety–although his planned fall to the floor was unnecessary. Jasper Liu recited with a good sense of timing and pauses, plus a variety of pitch and good body language; only at the end did he swallow his words. Kevin Yiyang Li acted convincingly with good physical movement but had some diction issues, mumbling a couple of words here and there. He had the authentic British accent, but there were some pronunciation issues. Nina Eastveld, age 8, performed Robert Munsch’s Boo with good theatrics, but spoke too quickly and with too monotonous a tone–although all her “boo’s” were appropriately spaced and alarming. It was a well-chosen monologue for her age, and she should do it again next Halloween.

Angela Jiang, at age 12, wrote her own original and inspired material, called War, a Survival Game. She had good projection, interesting staging, solid projection, and varying, musical dynamics and voices in her speech. She was born in China, but her English diction was excellent. Crystal Lin recited T.S Elliot’s The Waste Land. Her voice had the appropriate wisdom when she said the words “I remember”. Her tone changes and diction were excellent. She had a good sense of timing and used the stage well, maintaining good eye-contact with the audience. Samuel Gan, in The Taming of the Shrew, had a detectable Chinese accent but pretty good diction nonetheless. There was a welcome variety in his speech patterns but his acting came across as a bit insincere or too externalized. Maria Lin, age 16, performed E.J. Pratt’s Silences, and although there weren’t enough silences between her words, and some proses sounded coached or unnatural, her diction was very good.

Philip Xia presented his own excellent, original work, a speech entitled A Different Approach to North Korea. It was a persuasive point of view. Although he paused nicely between arguments, he tended to rush and have some trouble with his pronunciation. Aaron Sun’s engaging portrayal of A Midsummer Night’s Dream included excellent use of the hands and a variety of physical movement. He rushed but he had a good, lusty laugh. Emily Liu, age 8 and from Vancouver, recited Kenneth Oppel’s Silverwing with a good sense of timing. Her hands were still the whole time, so she needed more physical movement, and she had a slight memory slip. Then Jean-Marc Bedaux acted a selection from Shakespeare’s Merry Wives of Windsor with good character-acting, good tempo and pronunciation and an authentic British accent. Occasionally, there was too much random movement, but he exhibited excellent, meaningful facial expressions. 13-year-old Victor Tong’s original work entitled Children at War was a convincing speech/lecture that presented different sides of the equation. He spoke with an excellent diction and sound-level, with good tempo-variety. He did have a few stumbles; when he was emphatic about a point, he would suddenly lose his train of thought. But overall, I found him to be very sincere and passionate.

A Much Ado About Nothing excerpt was read with too much American accent by 17-year-old Michael Lau. There was not enough variety– with often too much shouting–but he did speak with a good, clear diction throughout. Phoebe Pang, age 14, presented with space and clarity. Although the pronunciation was a bit off–with a Chinese accent interfering–and although she swallowed the ends of phrases, there was some well-timed pausing between the strands and a good spiritual uplift in the last verse of Campbell’s How One Winter Came in the Lake Region. Andrew Chen Kai Huang, age 16, rushed his opening, and his overall diction was somewhat unclear, but he took his time with later proses and varied his tempo at the end. In another selection from Midsummer Night, 13-year-old William Liang projected well and presented–with variety–a natural emotion for the piece. He also used the stage and his chair-prop well. Only on occasion was his delivery a little fast and garbled. John Donne’s A Valediction: Forbidden Mourning, was recited with honest, sincere acting by Daniel Yan. It didn’t always have enough variety and he had an accent, but the diction was clear.

Mary Agnes’ Death Comes to Us All was always in character, and delivered by the utmost sincerity and reflection by Cindy Xin Yi Xu. The acting was genuine and heartfelt throughout. The timing was wonderful and it was well-paced, with a crescendo to the climax. Cindy is a talent to watch; she is graced with pure talent and she gave the most memorable performance of the evening. Darren Sayson’s performance ended the evening with Shakespeare’s Sonnet 55 and a solid rendering of the famous monologue from Hamlet. It wasn’t always clearly enunciated, and I missed the authenticity of the British accent. His line “To be or not to be” felt contrived–although after Cindy’s presentation, anyone would have paled by comparison. I kept thinking about the life that Cindy breathed into Death Comes to Us All.

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by Anthony Aibel  for New York Concert Review; New York, NY
Distinguished Concerts International New York (DCINY) presents Eternal Light in Review

Distinguished Concerts International New York (DCINY) presents Eternal Light in Review

Distinguished Concerts International New York (DCINY) presents Eternal Light
Distinguished Concerts Orchestra; Distinguished Singers International
Bradley Ellingboe, guest conductor
Jonathan Griffith, DCINY Artistic Director and Principal Conductor
Howard Goodall, DCINY Composer-in-Residence
Sarah Joy Miller, soprano; Scott Joiner, tenor; Steven Eddy, baritone
Stern Auditorium at Carnegie Hall, New York, NY
November 20, 2016

 

Distinguished Concerts International New York (DCINY) presented a concert entitled Eternal Light on the evening of November 20, 2016 at Stern Auditorium at Carnegie Hall. It featured two works, Morten Lauridsen’s Lux Aeterna and the New York City premiere of Howard Goodall’s Eternal Light: A Requiem. With singers from Louisiana, New Mexico, Texas, Minnesota, California, Oregon, Pennsylvania, Northern Ireland, and the United Kingdom, the theme could have been called The Show Must Go On, in what was a night of unexpected events.

Guest Conductor Bradley Ellingboe took the podium to conduct Lauidsen’s Lux Aeterna. In an earlier review (from a concert June 12, 2016 also entitled Eternal Light) I wrote, “Composed in 1997, Lux Aeterna is a five-movement work, taking the opening and closing of the Requiem Mass and three sections of the Te Deum for the texts. If “heaven” is really as many imagine, I would not be shocked if this music is being heard and played there.  This is simply some of the most beautiful music I have ever heard, and at the risk of being accused of intellectual laziness I will respond that its transcendence simply eludes words.” I have no occasion to change my opinion, and if anything, it has been further deepened. Mr. Ellingboe led a performance worthy of this fine piece, with the chorus and orchestra closely following his expert direction.

Near the end of the Agnus Dei-Lux Aeterna movement, there was a loud noise, of which one could not readily determine the cause. After the work ended, it appeared that one of the chorus members in the front row had possibly fainted and fallen from the riser. The singers and orchestra members filed off the stage, and the stage crew set about setting the stage for the second half, while the singer was being attended to by several people. Finally, an emergency medical team arrived, placed her on a stretcher and wheeled her from the stage. She appeared to be okay, and I am sure that I speak for all in attendance in wishing her a speedy recovery. The next group of singers and orchestra took the stage for the second half. The Show Must Go On.

Before the start of the second half proper, conductor Jonathan Griffith and composer Howard Goodall took the stage in an impromptu talk. Mr. Goodall spoke about Eternal Light, some of his recent completed projects, and described his compositional system, which considers all elements (shape, arc, landscape, etc.) to be equally important. He is a modest man, and somewhat reticent to boast about his many accomplishments, so Maestro Griffith informed the audience that Eternal Light was nearing its 500th performance, which averages about one performance a week since the premiere in 2008! Mr. Goodall informed the audience that he is currently working on three (!) new musicals simultaneously. Jonathan Griffith then took the podium to conduct the New York City premiere of Eternal Light: A Requiem.

Eternal Light: A Requiem is a ten-movement work using both the traditional Requiem mass and texts of the composer’s choosing. I recommend the reader to take the time to read Mr. Goodall’s excellent program notes (which also include the complete texts) by following this link: Eternal Light Program Notes . Clocking in at forty minutes, it is a journey of beauty, heartache, and in the end, hope.

I’m not going to comment on each movement, but rather mention a few points of interest. The fourth movement, Hymn: lead, kindly light, began in a state of hesitation, so much so that after about ten seconds Maestro Griffith stopped the work, paused for a moment, and recommenced the movement. This second time was strong and decisive, and while it is never a good thing to have to stop and re-start, it was a good decision from a seasoned and intelligent musician like Maestro Griffith. Too many times this listener has heard things go from bad to completely off the rails from either a reluctance to re-start, or from the hope that somehow things will right themselves (they usually don’t).

The sixth movement, the Dies Irae: In Flanders Fields, was the favorite of this listener. Mr. Goodall’s setting of the famous World War One poem of Canadian military doctor John McCrae was equal to the haunting text. Too many settings (and I have heard many) come across as saccharine and lightweight, which (in my opinion) destroys the meaning of McCrae’s words. Thank you, Mr. Goodall, for “getting it right”- it was one of the more moving things I have heard in some time.

The three soloists were top-notch, and each delivered strong, passionate performances. Soprano Sarah Joy Miller has a voice that abounds with heavenly beauty, tenor Scott Joiner wrung out the emotion in the heartbreaking third movement Litany: Belief, and baritone Steven Eddy projected with strength and confidence. The chorus (except for that one vexing moment) did good work, handling some of the rapid-fire settings of Latin with good diction and balance. This was one of those occasions when the sum of the parts exceeded the whole; it happens sometimes. The Show Must Go On.

At the end of the In Paradisum: Lux Aeterna, the audience responded with a standing ovation. Mr. Goodall came to the stage where he bashfully attempted to hide behind the vocal soloists, and had to be coaxed to the front, ending the night on a high note.

 

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by Jeffrey Williams  for New York Concert Review; New York, NY
The Hilton Head Symphony Orchestra and The Hilton Head International Piano Competition present Chang-Yong Shin in Review

The Hilton Head Symphony Orchestra and The Hilton Head International Piano Competition present Chang-Yong Shin in Review

The Hilton Head Symphony Orchestra and The Hilton Head International Piano Competition present Chang-Yong Shin
Chang-Yong Shin, piano
2016 Hilton Head International Competition Winner
Weill Recital Hall at Carnegie Hall, New York, NY
November 19, 2016

The Hilton Head piano competition presented its latest first prize winner, Chang-Yong Shin, in a well-attended recital at New York’s Weill Recital Hall at Carnegie Hall on Saturday afternoon, and what a stimulating afternoon it was. Mr. Shin has that rare ability to generate visceral excitement just by playing his instrument. He alternates between extreme fire and melting sensitivity, each of which gains by contrast to the other. Naturally, he has technique to burn. I found some of his forte dynamics strident in the small confines of Weill, but then I thought if he had tempered them, some other element of his presentation may have suffered. He has what Adele Marcus used to call “the big line”: a clear idea of every piece, every movement, and every phrase within the movement. Once a section begins, it travels on its own stream of energy that never flags; he does not “tear apart” phrases in search of detail, everything is integrated.

He began with Bach’s Toccata in D major, BWV 912. Anyone who has read my work knows that I love Bach on the modern piano. Mr. Shin seized every opportunity to use the “toccata” for its intended message—a) to show off the player’s dexterity and touch variety, and b) display a learned contrapuntal sensibility. These very early keyboard works of Bach are not programmed nearly as often as they deserve, but then one needs a Mr. Shin to bring them to bold, crisp, exciting life.

There followed Busoni’s fiendishly difficult Sonatina No. 6, subtitled Kammer-Fantasie über Bizets ‘Carmen’ (also commonly called Fantasia da Camera super Carmen) . I’m not sure what the “chamber” dimension is in this piece, which is resolutely a piano solo. Mr. Shin revealed (with Busoni’s help of course) the entire tragic unfolding of the opera in just nine minutes. His lyrical playing was absolutely superior, and the mysterious death-haunted ending was perfect. He also brought a genuine sense of playfulness, as though enjoying his own ability negotiate the score.

The first half concluded with Beethoven’s Sonata in A major, Op. 101, a test of any pianist’s maturity and depth. Again, Mr. Shin rose to every challenge, but he was particularly affecting in the Langsam und sehnsuchtsvoll (Slowly and full of longing) third “movement,” which proceeds directly into the exultant final sonata-fugue, where his energy was exuberant. His phrasing in the strictly canonic central section of the second movement was scrupulous, one doesn’t often hear it; however, I found the outer sections too rambunctious (though convincing).

After intermission, Shin gave the first movement, Los Requiebros (Flirtatious Remarks), from Granados’ piano suite Goyescas. Granados died when the channel ferry ship Sussex was torpedoed in the English Channel by the German submarine UB-29 on March 24, 1916. He had returned to England successfully from conducting his opera (also called Goyescas) at the Metropolitan Opera, but was on the Sussex as it was heading to France. Here Mr. Shin handled the ornate piano writing, never missing where the main melodies were, and clarifying every bit of this daunting piano writing. At the teneramente e calmato section, Mr. Shin managed to create an oceanic oasis of calm at the center of what had been very “busy” writing—it was breathtaking.

He closed with Prokofiev’s Seventh Sonata, in B-flat major, Op. 83, the middle sonata of the three “war” sonatas (World War II). This is music of almost unbearable anxiety, fear, and violence. Again, the inner fire of Mr. Shin was appropriate to the message of the piece. However, I found his most successful movement to be the central, lyrical one, Andante caloroso (warmly proceeding), that resembles a nostalgic romance one might sing after too many vodkas, and then becomes elevated and ultra-tragic, with alarm bells ringing obsessively, before the “inebriated” song returns, with a final disquieting bell. The outer movements really were exciting, despite the brutality of the sound—I never heard Gilels or Richter make a harsh sound in this work, but they were completely authentic in terms of musical message. (Yes Mr. Shin, you’re being spoken of in the same breath as Gilels and Richter.)

(Aside to all young artists: At the risk of sounding like a broken record, PLEASE provide program notes. If you aren’t comfortable creating them yourselves, hire someone who is. Also, this program didn’t even have sections or movements of works indicated.)

Mr. Shin favored the enthusiastic audience with two well-deserved encores: the Schumann/Liszt Widmung song transcription, played with maturity and lyricism; and the Liszt Transcendental Etude in F minor, which was wild, but again created a visceral thrill such as we don’t often get from typical “competition winners.” Keep studying with the best, Chang-Yong, and nurture that beautiful talent you have.

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by Frank Daykin  for New York Concert Review; New York, NY
Distinguished Concerts International New York (DCINY) presents Warren Lee in Review

Distinguished Concerts International New York (DCINY) presents Warren Lee in Review

Distinguished Concerts International New York (DCINY) presents Warren Lee
Warren Lee, piano
Weill Recital Hall at Carnegie Hall, New York, NY
November 17, 2016

 

Distinguished Concerts International New York (DCINY), as a part of its Artist Series, presented pianist Warren Lee at Weill Hall on November 17, 2016. In a program with works by Bach (in arrangements by Busoni), Beethoven, Chopin, Tan Dun, and Mr. Lee himself, it was to prove a rewarding evening.

Mr. Lee ( www.warren-lee.com ) has an impressive resume as a contest winner, performer, composer, and teacher, and through his engagement in charitable outreach . He has been a Steinway Artist since 2009.

Opening with two Bach-Busoni works, the Choral Prelude, Wachet auf, ruft uns die Stimme, BWV 645, and the Chaconne from Violin Partita No. 2 in D minor, BWV 1004, Mr. Lee established his authority immediately. This was principled playing, with careful attention to voicing and articulation. Some might find his approach to be too rigid, but this listener would disagree. Mr. Lee presents what might be an excellent example to students on what constitutes an intelligent interpretive approach to this music. There were some moments of the left hand sounding heavy, something that I am wont to attribute to the Weill Hall house piano, as I have numerous other examples of this being the case from previous recitals with the same instrument. In any case, these small moments hardly detracted from what were superior performances of which Mr. Lee can feel proud.

Eight Memories in Watercolor by Tan Dun (b. 1957) followed the two Bach works. These early works, a sort of “East meets West” (with Debussyan influence throughout), were written when the composer was twenty-one. Mr. Lee played these charming miniatures with the same reverence as he did the Bach, which probably served the works better than they served him. It was a pleasant ending to the first half.

Opening the second half, Mr. Lee offered one of his own works, entitled Three Novelettes. Written in 2015, the three pieces (Reflection, Levity, and Blossom), are dedicated to Robert L. Blocker, Dean of Music at Yale University. Mr. Lee writes in his program notes that Reflection pays tribute to the many ways Mr. Blocker inspires those around him; Levity, his fun-loving and humorous side, and Blossom his infectious warmth. These pieces were an interesting bookend to the Tan Dun, as the style was quite similar (though I did detect some kinship with York Bowen’s Preludes as well in Levity!).

Beethoven’s monumental Sonata in E major, Op. 109 followed. This work presents many challenges, not the least of which is a distinguished performance history by some of the legends of the piano. Mr. Lee suffered no complexes, as he delivered a performance of intelligence and sensitivity that reminded one of Alfred Brendel. It was the highlight of the evening for this listener.

Closing with Chopin’s Barcarolle in F-sharp major, Op. 60, often called the “Fifth Ballade,” Mr. Lee played with a bright tone and a freshness of sound that sparkled without a hint of labored effort.

Mr. Lee is obviously very much at home with the works on this program. He has thought through his approach to the finest of details and executed those details with exact precision and no elements of display. One must not take this as saying that Mr. Lee is lacking in technical prowess, as he has more than enough digital facility to negotiate any challenge, but that he does not make his technique “front and center.” If anything, he gives the appearance that it is all so very easy, and to the viewing public more used to seeing demonstrative motions (often to the point of histrionics), he might not get his proper respect.

Mr. Lee opted for a most unusual choice as his encore, a truncated arrangement of the opening movement of the Grieg Piano Concerto in A minor. This was not exactly what most would consider “encore” material, but the audience found it to be thrilling and gave Mr. Lee a standing ovation.

 

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