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Distinguished Concerts International New York (DCINY) presents Mortals & Angels: A Bluegrass Te Deum in Review

Distinguished Concerts International New York (DCINY) presents Mortals & Angels: A Bluegrass Te Deum

Jonathan Griffith, DCINY Artistic Director and Principal conductor

Distinguished Concerts Singers International

Dailey & Vincent, special guests

Jay Disney and Linda Powell, narrators

Luigi Salerni, director

Carol Barnett, DCINY composer-in-residence; Marisha Chamberlain, librettist

Stern Auditorium at Carnegie Hall, New York, NY

January 25, 2016

How do you get to Carnegie Hall? Practice, practice, practice? Not this week! “Shovel, shovel, shovel!” quipped Jamie Dailey of Dailey & Vincent, the world-renowned bluegrass group, to the delight of all those in attendance. In the aftermath of what some were calling “Snowmageddon” (or “Snowpocalypse”, if you prefer), Distinguished Concerts International New York (DCINY) presented a concert entitled Mortals and Angels: A Bluegrass Te Deum. The first half was selections from Dailey & Vincent, and the second half was the world premiere of the work for which the concert was named, Mortals and Angels; A Bluegrass Te Deum, a “follow-up” of sorts to composer Carol Barnett and librettist Marisha Chamberlain’s earlier collaboration The World Beloved: A Bluegrass Mass.

As I entered the hall, I noticed that hundreds of white handkerchiefs (with the name of the concert and date printed on them) draped over the seats. I pocketed this concert swag and was sure it was going to be of some use later.

I will admit that I had my doubts about this program beforehand. On a previous program, with the same composer and librettist, I was not entirely convinced that either musical style of the combination, bluegrass or classical, was well served, and I had some reservations about the libretto. Interested readers can follow to link to read more- Bluegrass 57@7 review. In fairness, it should be mentioned that my colleague David LaMarche did not have any such issues when he reviewed the same work in 2014 – Sounds of Americana review. Would I have the same opinion with this new work?

Dailey & Vincent took the stage to open the night. The nine members are Jamie Dailey (vocals/guitar), Darrin Vincent (bass/vocals), Aaron McCune (guitar/vocals), BJ Cherryholmes (fiddle), Bob Mummert (drums), Buddy Hyatt(piano), Jeff Parker( mandolin/vocals), Jessie Baker (banjo), and Shaun Robertson(guitar).”How many of you have heard bluegrass?” asked Jamie Dailey. “Well, you’re gonna hear some now!” he said as the group launched its six-song set. This listener is no bluegrass expert, but he is more than capable of recognizing expert playing and singing. The six selections alternated between fast and slow works, but all offered ample opportunities for these fine musicians to showcase both their individual talents in solo passages and very tight ensemble play.

Jamie Dailey bantered with the audience between numbers, introducing his band mates and telling stories about each. Darrin Vincent introduced Mr. Dailey. Just one fun fact – Shaun Robertson was appearing with the group for the first time, after being discovered on Instagram and being invited to audition for the group! We live in interesting times!

A cover of “Elizabeth”, the Statler Brothers’ hit (for which Dailey & Vincent received a Grammy nomination in 2011) was lovely, and “American Pride”, a patriotic song written by Jamie Dailey, brought the house down. A visibly moved Mr. Dailey humbly accepted the standing ovation. He has a voice that can soar with the best of them!

There was no intermission, but as Dailey & Vincent played on, the stage began to fill with singers dressed entirely in white, soon to be joined on the side of the stage by a much smaller number of very young singers dressed in all black. Conductor Jonathan Griffith took to stage dressed in blue jeans, flannel shirt with bandana, and hat, and took out his hankie and waved it to the audience, signaling the start of Mortals and Angels. Commissioned by the DCINY Premiere Project, Mortals and Angels is a thirteen-movement work that is close to an hour in length. Jay Disney was the spokesperson for the Mortals, who were represented by the children’s choir dressed in black, Dailey & Vincent, and the audience members on the parquet level. Linda Powell was the spokesperson for the Angels- the choir members dressed in all white and the audience members in the upper levels. Mr. Disney gave the “back story” for what was to happen; in short, the “Mortals” were on a fishing vacation and happened to encounter a group of Angels at the same spot (just go with it…). Mr. Disney and Ms. Powell were both “personality plus”, and their playful banter with each other and the audience as they “defended” their sides’ interests was good, clean fun, and added to the theatric quality of the work, though I’m not sure if it was really necessary. Perhaps I’ll leave it at that and let others argue for each side.

The “Mortals” sans Dailey & Vincent were overwhelmingly outnumbered by the “Angels”. I’m still wondering if it was intended for a child’s choir to be “battling” forces seven times their numbers (Mr. Disney made a remark about the 222 singers behind him, as he pointed to the “Angels”). These youngsters gave it all they had, but they were almost completely covered. This is perhaps something that should be considered in future performances.

The text of the work flows with a natural ease, without any agendas (hidden or unhidden), and the music is sincere and without any pretense. This is a winning combination, and with the unique talents of Dailey & Vincent, it was a winning performance. The audience got into the act with the waving of those white handkerchiefs. It was definitely not your typical concert experience, but it was full of raucous joy, something our world today is often lacking.

“We Don’t Stay Afraid for Long” was a favorite, both for the music, and the verse, especially the lines, “Oh, some of us believe in zombies/Some in fairies and elves/Some of believe in angels/And some of us just believe in ourselves.” There’s a lot of wisdom in those words.

So one might ask who won, the Mortals or the Angels? Let’s call it a draw, or better yet, let’s say everyone won, with special credit to Dailey & Vincent, who were the stars not just of this work, but of the entire concert.

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

Pianist Ian Hobson in Review

Downtown/Uptown Series: Preludes –Etudes –Variations, Ian Hobson in Recital

With spoken introduction by Paul Griffiths

Merkin Concert Hall, Kaufmann Arts Center; New York, NY

January 19, 2016

A good musician tries not to be too dazzled by encyclopedic repertoires – after all, it is how music is played that matters – but this listener has to confess to being dumbstruck by the sheer quantity of challenges in Ian Hobson’s latest 6-recital series in New York. From last October through this coming April, within a mere six months, he will have performed both books of Debussy’s Preludes plus complete Etudes, both books of Chopin Etudes plus complete Preludes, Rachmaninoff’s complete Preludes and complete Etudes (are you dizzy yet?), plus major sets of variations by Chopin, Rachmaninoff, Schumann, Szymanowski and Fauré, and three world premieres by contemporary composers (Stephen Taylor, Robert Chumbley, and Yehudi Wyner). I’m sure I’m omitting something. What is more, the concerts all come on the heels of an enormous 2013-14 series, a 14-recital traversal of the complete solo and chamber music of Brahms. To have prepared such a large quantity of difficult repertoire in one’s career may not be unusual today, but to have it all performable on a high level in such short succession boggles the mind – and all is somehow managed on top of Mr. Hobson’s professorships and conducting appearances. One wonders what vitamins Mr. Hobson might be taking, and how one can get some immediately!

Of course, those who have followed Mr. Hobson’s career may already be aware of his penchant for pianistic feats. Since winning the First Prize at the Leeds International Piano Competition in 1981, plus several important silver medals, Mr. Hobson has amassed a discography of over 60 releases, including the complete piano sonatas of Beethoven and Schumann, plus a complete edition of Brahms variations for piano. He is currently recording a complete edition of Chopin, of which Volume 9 has already received critical praise for “noble artistry” (Gramophone, July 2012).

Having been somewhat familiar with Mr. Hobson’s playing since my student days (when his recordings were some of the “reference” releases available in libraries), I can say that his playing has always struck me as technically strong, musically sound, reasonably grounded in scholarly study, and without any distracting eccentricities. It was therefore good to learn all these years later that he is still going strong, extremely strong!

His program selection was beautiful for this recital, pairing, as its pillars, Chopin’s Twenty-four Preludes, Op. 28, with the Rachmaninoff Variations on a Theme of Chopin, Op. 22. It is a natural pairing (in fact so natural that, for the sake of full disclosure, this reviewer performed and recorded that very pairing some nine years ago). Mr. Hobson additionally included Chopin’s Prelude in A-flat and Prelude in C-sharp minor Op. 45 (two welcome rarities in concert), plus a premiere of “Three Etudes (by any other name…)” by Robert Chumbley (b. 1954). The cohesiveness of the program was ideal, and the Chumbley work added an interesting modern-day perspective on the genre (if one can call it that) of the concert etude. Incidentally, the introductory speaker, Paul Griffiths, was eloquent and informative describing the history and characteristics of Etudes, Preludes and Variations, and it was the kind of evening perfectly designed to welcome the layperson into the realm of some of the greatest piano music ever composed.

Mr. Hobson’s performances themselves were taut and muscular, seemingly geared towards sustaining momentum and projecting with a very full sound, more often than drawing the listener in with intimacy or nuance. There was not a trace of self-indulgence to the performances – some would say a good thing – but I actually tend to like it when a performer “loses himself” in these miniatures. Though the momentum was an asset in the D-flat Prelude, which drags with many pianists, I longed for more poignant dreaming in the F-sharp major one, and perhaps more subtle piano shadings (as one also wanted in the G major). Some more details could have emerged in the storms of the F-sharp minor and B-flat minor ones as well.

It is possible that concert cycles may put pressure on a performer to keep things moving for the sake of uninitiated listeners. My neighbor in the audience began the evening by saying, “I hope these Chopin Preludes are short, because there sure are a lot of them.” One hopes that a performer will rarely need to think this way, but, as Mr. Griffiths mentioned, even Rachmaninoff had a penchant for omitting variations when the audience coughed too restlessly. I still maintain that when a performer surrenders to his artistic imagination, a listener generally can be trusted to follow suit, flu season notwithstanding. Much of Mr. Hobson’s playing was superb, as expected, but one hopes that his profusion of offerings this season will not diminish his savoring of each one.

There were high points, of course. Mr. Hobson seemed especially to relish the grace of the A major Prelude and the delicate (though treacherous) E-flat one. He sank deeply into the A-flat basses towards the end of the 17^th Prelude, partly helped by the hall piano’s exceptional resonance, felt down to one’s toes. He engaged intensely in the drama of the Preludes in E-flat minor, F minor, and G minor, and the final Prelude in D minor was a wonderfully brilliant finale. The coruscating scales and thirds proved that Mr. Hobson is still very much a powerhouse.

The Rachmaninoff fared similarly well overall, but again flew by to the point where one missed some of its characteristic poetry and dreaming. Some opportunities for gentle lyricism were missed (and some messiness arose intermittently), though ultimately the work’s majesty did prevail. A large, appreciative audience was treated to an absolutely beautiful encore of the Kreisler-Rachmaninoff Liebesleid, played with winning charm and rubato worthy of the pianistic Golden Age. One eagerly awaits the next concert!

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

Book Review: The Piano Teaching Legacy of Solomon Mikowsky By Kookhee Hong

The Piano Teaching Legacy of Solomon Mikowsky

Kookhee Hong

LAP, Lambert Academic Publishing

209 pp. (with photos and appendices)

ISBN: 978-3659804656

New York, NY, 2013

Breaking from the tradition of New York Concert Review as a publication chiefly about concerts and recordings, this book review is justified based on its subject, noted musical pedagogue, Solomon Mikowsky, whose musical legacy dwells in the concert halls and music schools of New York and throughout the world. As “one of the world’s most sought-after artist teachers” (Clavier), whose students have racked up over 150 international competition wins, he has been a vital if often behind-the-scenes figure in the world of concert life today.

Among Mr. Mikowsky’s students have been some highly celebrated pianists of the day, including Simone Dinnerstein, Kirill Gerstein, and others. Many are on piano faculties throughout the world, guiding the next generation of musical leaders, performing, serving on juries, and yes, still competing and performing in contests themselves. Lest the reader be misled by the word “legacy” in the book’s title, let there be no doubt that Dr. Mikowsky is still going strong after many decades of teaching, notably at the Manhattan School of Music since 1969.

What’s more than all of the credentials and success he has achieved – though going hand in hand with it – is his successful personal mission to share music, more a way of life than a profession. It is that personal mission that makes Dr Mikowsky’s career worthy of a book, rather than just a list of prizes in some compendium. His students, present and past, speak of him as a beloved friend, who has helped them artistically, personally, and even financially. They have traveled to new places because of him, tried unknown exotic repertoire because of him, sampled new foods, read new books, and met new people because of him. Together they are helping to keep the love and celebration of piano music alive. Anyone who was captivated by the 2015 film about music teacher, Seymour Bernstein (Seymour: An Introduction), should enjoy Ms. Hong’s book in a similar way, but with new dimensions: enter Solomon.

At this point, it may sound as if Ms. Hong, a former student of Dr. Mikowsky, has written a promotional puff piece, but rest assured that the book goes much deeper than that. Though one or two moments in the interview-format book may resemble the so-called “humble-brag” as various triumphs are recounted (how can they not with his string of achievements?), there is always rigorous self-assessment with Dr. Mikowsky, from the half-joking wish to refund money to students at some earlier points in his career to his comments about how much he is still always learning.

There is also much more to the book than a recollection and analysis of his teaching – beyond the ample discussion of fingering approaches, editions, and other specialized issues. Dr. Mikowsky’s life has been one of serious ups and downs, all which have made him the remarkable man that he is. The reader will find references to his Russian-Polish-Jewish roots, an engrossing account of his parents’ immigrant experience, colorful descriptions of his early days in Havana and a family jewelry business, and his musical beginnings. There are some humorous personal anecdotes, but also chilling references to his extended family’s peril at Auschwitz. There are tales of financial and personal struggle – including a physical injury preventing him from performing – but also tales of addictive Cuban croquettes. One is reminded in some ways of the much longer memoirs of another gourmand, pianist Arthur Rubinstein, as Dr. Mikowsky has a similar zest for living (without Rubinstein’s much-touted dalliances). One can only envy his current class of students. Young musicians will find in this book the constant reminder that not only must life be filled with music, but music must be filled with life.

Among the valuable cautionary tales, Dr. Mikowsky recounts various tests of character and diplomacy, such as politically constrained competitions and his dilemmas when colleagues’ students have wished to study with him. He also tells of one of his students asking to study with a different teacher, a technique specialist of dubious grounding – guessable by those in the know, but mercifully unnamed. Though there is some name-dropping, names are generally only mentioned when historically significant or of personal importance to him, such as his teachers Sentenat and Gorodnitzki.

From political obstacles to personal sacrifice, from student years in one’s homeland to scholarships in the US at Juilliard, doctoral studies at Columbia University and years of teaching, Dr. Mikowsky shares a wealth of experience – even how he became involved in a lucrative real estate investment out of his involvement in an apartment originally for the benefit of a student. Such serendipitous situations, plus much hard work have enabled him to gift performance halls and pianos to the Manhattan School of Music, the Chicago College of Performing Arts, and the City of Havana – all in addition to spearheading several festivals. It is not every piano teacher who maintains such philanthropic endeavors on the side. There are lessons to be learned from his life story as much as from the valuable section on pedagogy.

The book is a quick read at 148 pages, plus 50-plus more in appendices, and flows like a fireside chat. Ms. Hong is to be commended for achieving this effect naturally, without intrusive editorializing or ego. Part I centers on the biography of Dr. Mikowsky and Part II, on his pedagogical beliefs and experiences, with some interesting specific examples. Part III is a very generous string of appendices about pianists and teachers, plus student testimonials and lists of laureates. Those readers not interested in piano teaching may not be inclined to read Part II on pedagogy (just over half of its 148-page main text), though it seems that any lover of piano music could benefit from it all.

On a critical note, there is room for some further editing of this book (perhaps before its next printing), as some corrections are needed. Most seem not to be the fault of the author but of other contributors, but at least “sic” would be welcome occasionally, as the spelling of “Juilliard” appears “Julliard” and “book” becomes an unfortunate palindrome, which I’ll omit here. I’m sure, when a students states, “Another day goes by without me using something that you thought me…” that it was meant as, “Not a day goes by without my using something you taught me” but such errors such as these are easy to fix. The spelling of “Solomon” should be consistent, as “Salomon” in the photograph section was surprising.

Minor quibbles aside, I feel this book is a valuable addition to any music library. Dr. Mikowsky is a gift to the music world, and thankfully part of that gift is now knowable in prose form.

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

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

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

Distinguished Concerts Orchestra; Distinguished Concerts Singers International

Jonathan Griffith, DCINY Artistic Director and Principal Conductor

Karl Jenkins, Composer-in-Residence

Joanie Brittingham, soprano; Katherine Pracht, mezzo-soprano; Peter Scott Drackley, tenor; Michael Scarcelle, baritone; Almedin Jashari; muezzin, Iris Derke, recorder/flute

Stern Auditorium, Carnegie Hall, New York, NY

January 18, 2016

In what has become an annual event, Distinguished Concerts International New York (DCINY) presented a concert featuring the music of Karl Jenkins in celebrating the life and work of Martin Luther King, Jr. on the holiday named for Dr. King. The first half was to consist of the Songs of Sanctuary and the Te Deum, with the second half featuring the sixty-five-minute blockbuster The Armed Man: A Mass for Peace. A post –concert event was to follow where one could greet Mr. Jenkins and have a copy of his new autobiography, Still With the Music, signed. With singers from California, Pennsylvania, Canada, France, Germany, Italy, Spain, Switzerland, United Kingdom, and “individual singers from around the globe,” it had the makings of a special night.

Opening the concert was Songs of Sanctuary. This 1995 work was born of a commission from Delta Airlines to compose “something ethnic.” Adiemus was the result, using what the composer called “invented words,” a phonetic approach that allows the listener to focus on the musical content as opposed to the text. Songs of Sanctuary consists of nine pieces (Adiemus, Tintinnabulum, Cantus Inaequalis, Cantus Insolitus, In Caelum Fero, Cantus Iteratus, Amaté adea, Kayama, Hymn), which can be performed as set or individually. From the first moments of the opening of Adiemus, it was clear that the young singers were well prepared and ready to go. I could not help but smile. It was a feeling that would continue throughout the night.

Experienced Jenkins listeners will at once recognize that the melody for Amaté Adea was re-used in his later Stabat Mater in the And the Mother Did Weep movement. Highlights for this listener were the haunting Cantus Insolitus and the exuberant Kayama.

It was a delight to see the young singers on stage having the time of their lives, with faces joyfully beaming. Even the most jaded listener could not help being moved by such a sight. Conductor Jonathan Griffith served as a gentle and patient guide to his young singers with clear directional cues, such as a sweeping movement with his left hand upward when the singers were to “slide up” to the next pitch in a quasi-glissandi effect. One must give kudos to the featured vocal soloists, Joanie Brittingham and Katherine Pracht, who were excellent, and DCINY’s own Iris Derke, who did double duty with lovely recorder and flute solos.

This younger chorus filed off the stage and the Pennsbury High School Choir and Pennsbury Community Chorus from Pennsylvania took their place for the next work, the Te Deum. This 2009 work has five sections (Te Deum laudamus, Te ergo quaesumus, Aeterna fac cum sanctis tuis, Miserere nobis, Te Deum laudamus (reprise)), but is performed without pause between sections. It is a joyous, high-spirited and optimistic work. There were moments when the chorus was obscured by the orchestra, but these were passing instances that one can attribute to the orchestra’s exuberance. With the final words Non confundar in aeternum, the singers thrust their arms in the air. It was a triumphant finish to the first half, and the audience rewarded the performers with a standing ovation.

During the intermission, pictures of Mr. Jenkins and important events in his life were projected on the back wall of the stage as the stage was being prepared for the second half. Singers then began to file onto the stage, indeed so many that about thirty singers “overflowed” to the left of the stage.

In another tradition, Karl Jenkins (or more properly, Sir Karl Jenkins, O.B.E.) joined conductor Jonathan Griffith on stage for an impromptu conversation before the commencement of the second half. Maestro Griffith offered congratulations for Mr. Jenkins’ recent elevation to knighthood and being the very first Welsh composer to be so honored. Mr. Jenkins was asked if there had been any changes in his life as a consequence. “Sometimes it is easier to get a table at a restaurant,” was the reply, much to the amusement of the audience. Mr. Jenkins shared a quip made by Princess Anne, who performed the duties of the knighting- “It seems wrong to have a sword on the man who wrote The Peacemakers.” Maestro Griffith told the audience that The Armed Man had now surpassed 1800 performances since its premiere in 2000, an average of two performances a week, every week, for fifteen years.

I have written about the history of this work previously, so those readers who wish to know more can follow the link to a previous review from 2013- The Sounds of War and Peace, Chapter 2- The Music of Karl Jenkins. Maybe the meaning of the work can be summed up in a quote from the final movement “Better is peace than always war.” As it was in 2013, the accompanying movie (also called The Armed Man) was projected onto the stage back wall.

It is evident that Maestro Griffith has made this work one of his specialties. His approach is confident and assured. Even the synchronization with the images on screen was razor sharp, in a way that was truly breathtaking. This was the master at work!

Even though I have heard this work countless times, I was still struck with the power and emotion of the piece, something that happens with me quite infrequently. Some highlights included the brass rising to the challenge of the Charge! movement with the bold and decisive attacks that this section demands, in a way that missing from the 2013 performance. It made a world of difference to this listener! The Benedictus as well stood out and was especially poignant. The chorus was exceptional from start to finish, and one must recognize the fine soloists (Joanie Brittingham, soprano; Katherine Pracht, mezzo-soprano; Peter Scott Drackley, tenor; Michael Scarcelle, baritone), even if their roles were limited. The audience reacted with a prolonged standing ovation. It was an excellent concert.

Perhaps it is fitting to close this review with words of Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. as projected onto the screen at intermission: “Darkness cannot drive out darkness. Only light can do that. Hate cannot drive out hate. Only love can do that”.

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

Distinguished Concerts International New York (DCINY) presents Requiem for the Living: The Music of Dan Forrest in Review

Distinguished Concerts International New York (DCINY) presents Requiem for the Living: The Music of Dan Forrest

Distinguished Concerts Orchestra; Distinguished Concerts Singers International

Jo-Michael Scheibe, DCINY guest conductor; James M. Meaders, DCINY Associate Artistic Director and conductor

Dan Forrest, DCINY Visiting Composer

Viola Dacus, mezzo-soprano; Tony Burdette, tenor

Stern Auditorium, Carnegie Hall, New York, NY

January 19. 2016

On January 19, 2016, Distinguished Concerts International New York (DCINY) presented a concert at Stern Auditorium at Carnegie Hall featuring the music of Dan Forrest. While Mr. Forrest is a highly regarded choral composer, he is not what one would call a “household name”. It is his work Requiem for the Living that has put his name on the map, so to speak. This piece had its New York premiere at this same venue in a DCINY concert in 2014, at which this reviewer was present. It made such an impression that one can reasonably assume that this success led to the presentation of this concert.

For this event the Distinguished Concerts Singers hailed from South Carolina, Florida, Wyoming, Mississippi, Utah, Texas, California, Indiana, Canada, Oklahoma, Kentucky, and “individual singers from around the globe.” Recalling how I was moved by Requiem for the Living, I was looking forward to hearing more works from this very talented composer.

Conductor Jo- Michael Scheibe took to the stage to conduct Mr. Forrest’s In Paradisum, which opened the concert. It is an approximately thirteen-minute work, which was written a few years before Requiem for the Living. The text uses verses from the Bible (King James version) – Psalm 116:15, John 14:2-3, Revelation 21:4, and Luke 23:43.

In Paradisum opens with a sequence of massive fortissimo chords, in what the composer refers to as “pillar chords.” It is an apt description, as most of the work makes reference to these chords. It was an arresting beginning. Mr. Forrest’s setting of the text brings the potency of the words to life with consummate sensitivity, and his orchestration deepened the impact of each word. One might expect the work to end with the triumphant cry of the last words from Luke 23:43 – “In Paradise” – but Mr. Forrest had different plans. As he explained in his program notes, “eternity calls to the listener from the heavens,” and to illustrate this, the music fades away to complete silence. The effect of the fading to this listener was more one of being returned to Earth after a journey to Heaven, as if one had been shown the glory and brilliant light of the next life in advance, before receding from view. Maestro Scheibe was the “tour guide” par excellence as he led the orchestra and chorus with the sure expertise one would expect from a musician of his credentials.

It was a powerful, moving performance. Even the most ardent non-believers would have pause to reconsider their stance after hearing this majestic work.

Mr. Forrest has an undoubted gift for writing beautiful music. He does not resort to gimmicks or attempt to “reinvent the wheel” musically. His harmonic language is completely tonal, and he eschews needless complexity. The music world is filled with cynics who call such an approach limiting, but nothing could be further from the truth! It is what Mr. Forrest does with this so-called “simplistic” approach that is truly magical. To borrow a current expression, “Haters gonna hate!” This listener appreciates the courage of Mr. Forrest’s conviction in his style with admiration for the skill with which he writes.

The Te Deum followed. Cast in three movements (Praise to the Trinity, Prayers, Praise to Christ), the text comes largely from the Book of Common Prayer, with additions from the Psalms as well. The final movement was this listener’s favorite, with changing meters that heightened the tension before returning to the calm unifying theme. The sublime Psalm of Ascension ended the half.

As previously stated, I had the pleasure of reviewing the New York premiere of Requiem for the Living two years ago. Interested readers can follow the link for more information about the work and my impressions- DCINY Life and Liberty in Review. The first thing that I noticed was the conductor (James M. Meaders) and the mezzo-soprano soloist (Viola Dacus) were the same as last time (and several of the participating choruses as well), so I was especially interested in hearing what their experience was going to bring to this performance. I was pleased that this latest edition exceeded the high bar set by the earlier performance. Maestro Meaders was in full command – Vanitas Vanitatum had even more bite and driving intensity, the Sanctus had a feel of stars twinkling in the night sky, and the Lux aeterna was quite ethereal. Ms. Dacus was every bit as radiant as in 2014, and the luster of her voice in the Agnus Dei was heartbreakingly beautiful. One must also recognize tenor soloist Tony Burdette for a fine job. Using the same formula as in the In Paradisum, the music fades away to nothingness. When Maestro Meaders finally set the baton down after extended silence and slowly turned to the audience, they burst into thunderous applause.

Mr. Forrest joined the performers on the stage and the ovations escalated, continuing for several minutes. He undoubtedly made countless new “believers” in his music, and this listener for one is looking forward to hearing more works from him. Congratulations to the performers and to the composer. It was a memorable night for all.

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

Key Pianists presents Peter Takács: The Beethoven Experience—Late Beethoven in Review

Key Pianists presents Peter Takács: The Beethoven Experience—Late Beethoven

Peter Takács, piano; Soovin Kim, violin; Virgil Hartinger, tenor

Weill Recital Hall at Carnegie Hall, New York, NY

January 14, 2016

January is only two weeks old and already there is a litany of loss: Pierre Boulez, David Bowie, Alan Rickman, and many more unheralded. Now I must selfishly mourn the end of this satisfying mini-overview of Beethoven’s music provided by master pianist Peter Takács. He brings old-world virtues of golden singing tone, and myriads of shifting colors based on his keen knowledge of every chord and its relative weight and where every phrase is headed. Nothing clinical, cold, or “post-modern perfect” about this pianist, thank goodness. We have enough of that.

Instead, as I have noted previously, we have a soul who has entered deeply into the creative act “beside” Beethoven, as it were. He reveals it freshly every time, risks and all. The sense of struggle was always a key feature not only in Beethoven’s compositional practice, but also in his dealing with life events such as the obvious: deafness, and the subtler: fight for financial security and emotional fulfillment. We shouldn’t want to air-brush that tension away.

It was good of Mr. Takács to begin the concert with Beethoven’s true swan-song for solo piano, the set of six Kleinigkeiten, Op. 126 ( Bagatelles, or “Trifles”). These miniatures, as distinct from his prior two sets (Op. 33 and Op. 119, mainly written and published for money) may be small in length, but they are giant in visionary power. One hears glimmers of many of the late-period processes being tossed about, from hearty stomps to melting lyricism to transcendent spatial insights and echoes across alpine valleys. Mr. Takács observed the con moto indications found in them, to give a more earthy view, less freighted with mysticism than usual.

The yearning for a “lost Arcadia” (as Maynard Solomon points out in his excellent book Late Beethoven: Music, Thought, Imagination) is often symbolized by Beethoven’s use of G major as tonality. We had that in two of the above bagatelles and in the second work on the program: the delightful and underplayed Violin Sonata No. 10 in G major, Op. 96. A product of Beethoven’s Archduke Rudolph “period,” if you will, it switches from the pastoral to the spiritual in the blink of an eye. Violinist Soovin Kim was excellently subtle and poised as a partner, without losing any enthusiasm where it was needed. The two musicians were perfectly aligned in concept and execution. The fourth movement rondo with variations was particularly touching in its disinclination to say “goodbye,” consisting of several attempts at an ending, finally bursting forth in joy.

After intermission, Mr. Takács utilized another collaborative artist, the sweet-voiced lyric tenor Virgil Hartinger, in the innovative song-cycle An die ferne Geliebte, Op. 98 (To the Distant Beloved). This was the first interconnected cycle ever, paving the way for subsequent works by Schubert and Schumann. The words were written by Alois Isidor Jeitteles, probably at Beethoven’s request, and are full of the tropes of Romanticism: separation, longing, nature. Can we still identify with these sentiments in an age of Skype, Snapchat, and the rest? I certainly hope so.

“Nimm sie hin denn, diese Lieder,/Die ich dir, Geliebte, sang. . .” (Take you then these songs/Which I sing to you, Beloved) goes the sixth and final song. It proves a fitting motto for what Mr. Takács has been saying to us all fall and winter. Mr. Hartinger grew on me: his demeanor was generally still, which I appreciated—no histrionics—although I did find some issues with diction, legato, and the sudden dynamic shifts required, perhaps just stiffness, for when he got to the fifth and sixth songs, the “money shot,” he was very moving, and provided vivid contrasts and much more emotional involvement.

To conclude, Mr. Takács scaled the Everest of the last piano sonata, Op. 111, in C minor. Claudio Arrau always taught that one should never divide between the hands the treacherous opening double octave for the left hand alone that descends a diminished seventh, that it would minimize the sense of Herculean struggle. Mr. Takács did not divide two of the three, and he missed both of them. Folks, I’m here to tell you, it’s okay. It’s not what happens, it’s how you continue that is the mark of the true artist. In a way, the whole movement was dominated by Mr. Takács’ grappling with some memory issues. However, each time something repeated he nailed it with truly Beethovenian determination. In the Arietta (the second of only two movements) he created the spiritual stillness of the theme gorgeously, and each variation, spun like heavenly weaving out of the one before, worked its magical effect. I am reminded of Alfred Brendel’s note to Op. 111 about the final cadences that withdraw quietly to silence: “a silence that we now perceive to be even more important than the sound which preceded it.”

Thank you, Peter Takács, and may I issue a challenge? That you return soon and often, with the other twenty-seven piano sonatas, all the piano-based instrumental chamber music, and all the variations, miscellaneous pieces, and Lieder. That ought to keep Mr. Takács and New York nourished for quite some time!

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

DCINY (Distinguished Concerts International New York) presents Deborah Popham, soprano in Review

DCINY Distinguished Concerts Artists Series presents Deborah Popham

Ben Harris, piano

Weill Hall at Carnegie Hall, New York, NY

December 7, 2015

Distinguished Concerts International New York (DCINY) is renowned for their large-scale concerts featuring artists from around the globe, but what might not be as well known is they also present talented small ensembles and soloists in their Distinguished Artists Series. The latest featured artist in the series was soprano Deborah Popham, who appeared in recital at Weill Hall at Carnegie Hall on December 7, 2015.

For the sake of full disclosure, this reviewer was not present on that date, but was sent an unedited recording of the performance. As I have stated in the past when reviewing recorded concerts, my modus operandi is to listen a single time as if I were present, believing this to be the most objective manner in which to review.

The first thing one notices when viewing the program is that Ms. Popham has selected an eclectic mix of works- the first half consisting of songs from Reynaldo Hahn, Ottorino Respighi, and Sergei Rachmaninoff, the second half consisting exclusively of America composers – Ben Moore, Richard Hundley, Samuel Barber, Irving Fine, and Lee Hoiby. The text for each song was included in the program, with English translations for the Hahn, Respighi, and Rachmaninoff – something that should be a standard, but sadly is rarely done.

Four songs by Reynaldo Hahn opened the program. À Chloris (To Chloris), a song with a Handelian feel about it, provided a lovely opening. One was only occasionally distracted by Ms. Popham’s unusually wide vibrato, which sometimes affected one’s comfort with the pitch. Ms. Popham has a strong voice and a confident approach in the high Romantic works, but one sometimes wanted more delicacy. Quand je fut pris au pavilion (When I was caught in the pavilion) enlivened the mood, while L’enamourée (The Enamored One) – a song with much more Romantic “heart on sleeve” expressiveness, was well suited to Ms. Popham’s expansive style. The set closed with Ms. Popham at her most impassioned in Dans la Nuit (In the Night).

A delightful grouping of Respighi songs from Deità Silvane (Woodland Deities) followed. Highlights were Musica in Horto (Garden Music), which was colorful and exotic, suggesting sounds of little cymbals and flutes, and Acqua (Water), evoking water through tone-painting as Respighi knew so well how to do. The vocal writing exploited the best of Ms. Popham’s upper treble range in phrases that swooned, and Crepusculo (Twilight) captivated with its gentler moments, particularly in the piano part played by Ben Harris. The great forte swells in the vocal part verged on stridency at times, but this is almost an occupational hazard in this repertoire.

The musical language became even more luscious in the Rachmaninoff that followed. Ms. Popham seemed very comfortable with Rachmaninoff’s exquisite vocal writing. The rather early work Ne poj krasavica, pri mne (Do Not Sing, oh Beauty, to Me), Op. 4, No 4, opened this set and was given an outstanding performance by Ms. Popham. Na smert’ chizhika (Spring Waters), Op. 21, No. 8, was also quite beautiful. The extravagant Romanticism of Vesenniye vodi (Death of a Linnet), Op. 14, No. 11, employed some virtuosic writing for the piano, which was well navigated by Mr. Harris, and ended the first half in fine fashion.

A set by American Ben Moore (b. 1960) entitled So Free am I opened the second half. The composer states, “The cycle consists of settings of poems addressing women’s experiences by women authors from various times and cultures,” but also, “To me, this set is not about the oppression of women throughout time, but rather the freedom in being liberated from the ties that bind.” It is really the “ties that bind” which set that theme of liberty in relief. Starting with the exuberant Mutta (by Indian Buddhist nuns) depicting the casting away of restrictions, it was well suited to Ms. Popham’s extroverted temperament. Interlude (text by Amy Lowell) was well sung by Ms. Popham, who captured the shape of the work quite well. Orinda Upon Little Hector Philips (text by Katherine Philips), dealt with the heartbreaking subject of losing one’s child. By this point, one wonders whether the emotional saturation in the program might not have been a case of diminishing returns. Perhaps each song like a gem might have shone more brightly with a bit of black velvet behind it. That said, some relief came in the form of Nervous Prostration (text by Anna Wickham). The Poem as Mask: Orpheus (text by Muriel Rukeyser) was the least effective of this set, through no fault of Ms. Popham. Mettika, a very beautiful setting to a text about growing weak and tired, seemed not a specifically feminine subject, but one of universal appeal. Closing with the words “over my spirit blows the breath of liberty” the spirit of the opening exuberance of the cycle was recaptured.

The last set of songs all centered on the theme of animals, an entertaining idea that was to serve to lighten the mood. Ms. Popham showed a playful, whimsical side, “letting her hair down,” so to speak. It was the musical equivalent perhaps of a “victory lap”, as Ms. Popham had tackled this ambitious program with complete success, and was going to enjoy herself. Suffolk Owl by Richard Hundley (b. 1931) kicked off the fun, followed by Samuel Barber’s much-loved A Monk and His Cat. The Frog and the Snake (text by Gertrude Norman) by Irving Fine (1914-1962) was brimming with humor, and The Serpent (text by Theodore Roethke) from Lee Hoiby (1926-2011) ended the half and the concert in winning style. The audience gave Ms. Popham loud and prolonged applause.

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

Avalon String Quartet in Review

Northern Illinois University presents the Avalon String Quartet

Blaise Magnière, violin; Marie Wang, violin; Anthony Devroye, viola; Cheng-Hou Lee, cello

Weill Hall at Carnegie Hall, New York, NY

December 9, 2015

On December 9, 2015, Northern Illinois University presented the Avalon String Quartet at Weill Hall at Carnegie Hall in a program of works by Benjamin Britten, Mieczyslaw Weinberg, and Beethoven’s Op. 130, with the original Große Fuge finale. It was to prove to be a richly rewarding experience.

The Avalon’s members are Blaise Magnière (violin), Marie Wang (violin), Anthony Devroye (viola), and Cheng-Hou Lee (cello). They took to the stage and opened the concert with Three Divertimenti (a work originally intended to be a five-movement work based on a line from Shakespeare’s The Winter’s Tale) from Benjamin Britten (1913-1976). The work is without opus number, and the program notes state that after a poorly received performance, Britten shelved the work, and it was not performed again in his lifetime. Only the Burlesque is up the standards of Britten’s mature work, the March and Waltz being the products of a talented, but still developing, composer. This is not to disparage the attentive and lively reading from the Avalon – one can even commend them for bringing this work from one the giants of the 20th century to the public – but this work is really more of the curiosity sort.

The String Quartet No. 6 in E minor, Op. 35 (1946), from Polish-born Soviet composer Mieczyslaw Weinberg (1919-1996), followed the Britten. The program notes describe the work as “experimental in form,” having “moments of craziness” and state this work was never performed in Weinberg’s lifetime (it was premiered in 2007). How “experimental” and “crazy” it actually is is a matter of opinion (one that I disagree with on both counts), but one can make the case that the artistic environment in the Soviet Union at the time (particularly the infamous Zhdanov decree in 1948) made anything “experimental” extremely dangerous to the “offending composer.” Add to this Weinberg’s personal situation, being under scrutiny of the authorities (he was the son-in-law of Solomon Mikhoels, who was murdered in 1948 on Stalin’s orders), and later arrested in the “Doctors’ Plot,” Stalin’s last purge before his death. After the danger had passed, Weinberg had probably moved on (he was an extremely prolific composer) and the quartet forgotten. This six movement work clocks in at about thirty minutes, and proved to be a real revelation. It is a work that shows complete mastery of form, is filled with excitement, has interesting harmonic language and poignant melodies, and tests the technical abilities of the players to the maximum. I enjoyed it from start to finish, and I believe the Avalon has the opportunity to set the performance standard for this fine work. If tonight’s performance was any indication, the bar has been set very high. It ended the half in great style.

What immediately made a favorable impression to this listener (and viewer!), was the lack of excessive movement of the players as they played. I have written in the past how much I dislike the sight of watching four people writhing about on stage like fish out of water, and how such histrionics detract from my enjoyment of the music. The players have a certain rapport and no one player outshines the other- a true ensemble. The Avalon is all about the music- their passion comes through in the sound, as it should be!

After the intermission, it was time for the centerpiece of the night, Beethoven’s String Quartet No. 13 in B-flat major, Op. 130, with the Große Fuge, Op. 133. The program notes give an excellent music analysis, one that musicians would appreciate in its detail, but there was nothing to say about why Beethoven wrote an alternate finale and published the Große Fuge as a separate work, other than “upon reconsideration,” which suggested Beethoven was unhappy his original finale. Nothing could be further from the truth! Why Beethoven agreed to his publisher’s request for an alternate finale will never be known for certain, but the most plausible theory was for the need for money (which for Beethoven was always in short supply).

What continues to be remarkable about this work is that it sounds much more “modern” than many works written more than a hundred years later, a testament to Beethoven’s visionary genius. The six movements have no readily discernible commonality, but it nonetheless all “works”. The question was to how the Avalon would handle one of the most famous works in the repertoire, with a rich performance history from some of the most notable string quartets throughout the ages. The answer was “very well indeed!” The first four movements were excellent, but the fifth movement, the Cavatina, was especially moving in the hands of these wonderful players. The Avalon saved their very best for last. The Große Fuge was played with a ferocious intensity, but without the stridency that often mars so many performances. The Avalon was in complete command, confident and assured, as they negotiated the demands of this tour de force with an apparent ease that belied the extreme difficulty. It would stand up to comparison to any other ensemble. The audience gave the players a prolonged standing ovation.

The Avalon String Quartet is a fine ensemble, and one that all true lovers of chamber music should hear. I do hope to hear them again.

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

SoNoRo Festival Bucharest 10th Anniversary Concert in Review

The Romanian Cultural Institute in New York and RA Entertainment present SoNoRo Festival Bucharest 10th Anniversary Concert

Diana Ketler, piano; Alexander Sitkovesky and Daniel Rowland, violins; Razvan Popovici, viola; Julian Arp, cello

Weill Recital Hall at Carnegie Hall, New York, NY

November 30, 2015

A fervent crowd of Romanians, also celebrating their “National Day” (Dec. 1), was treated to a banquet of late-Romantic works for piano quartet, and one quintet, by the outstanding ensemble players of SoNoRo, based in Bucharest, now in its tenth year. The group was founded to remedy the shortage of knowledge and performance opportunities for fine chamber music in Romania—it has since become an important traveling ambassador. It is formed of a cosmopolitan group of Europe’s outstanding chamber players.

After some sincere speechmaking (a capsule history of Romania, deftly delivered by the consul), the concert began with a rendition of Mahler’s only surviving chamber work, his Piano Quartet in A Minor. Written in his student days (age 16) in one continuous sonata-allegro movement, we “love” the piece anyway, though it doesn’t have the genius of the composer’s world-encompassing symphonies or the profound beauties of his Lieder. The work is indebted mainly to Schumann, but here’s the kicker: in the hands of the SoNoRo players (Diana Ketler, Alexander Sitkovesky, Razvan Popovici, and Julian Arp), who revealed its dark mood with such warm tone, it sounded like a much better piece than it really is.

The pianist for the entire evening was the astonishingly refined and tasteful Diana Ketler, one of the founders of SoNoRo. I have rarely heard such delicacy in the piano part of an ensemble, yet she also rose to occasions of great power easily. Her phrasing was exquisite, and myriad colors were summoned from the often-recalcitrant piano in Weill Hall. The strings were passionate, with full-bodied vibrato, and perfect tuning and ensemble. They indicated both their pleasure in playing and important cues with wonderful visual contact that never veered over into the theatrical. To witness the way each one listened to the others when one of them was not playing was a delight.

After the Mahler, they played Richard Strauss’ only venture into the Piano Quartet repertoire, his Op. 13 in C Minor. Here, unlike in the Mahler, we heard the compositional virtuosity and confidence of the young Strauss, with themes pointing the way to his larger tone-poems and operas in “embryo,” as it were. The Scherzo movement in particular was played with dash and sparkle. The personnel had been changed to a different violinist: Daniel Rowland, who my seat-neighbor said was “very good-looking, like Brad Pitt. That doesn’t hurt!” The work’s four movements brimmed with appropriate longing and were beautifully long-breathed.

After intermission came the Dohnányi Piano Quintet No. 2, Op. 26, with all five musicians making a boisterous mini-orchestra. Its first movement theme (in E-flat minor) seems to me like a subconscious transformation of the Fugue in D- sharp minor from Bach’s WTC book 1 (same key enharmonically). The Intermezzo is a sort of deconstructed salon-waltz that keeps interrupting itself. The Finale presents a very sober fugue in the string quartet group, followed by a chorale or hymn in the piano (again channeling Bach). Again, Ms. Ketler here made the most gorgeous legato tones of those long notes. Then the “Bach” theme from the first movement returns for a grand peroration, which renders the work “cyclic.” In the fabulous hands of SoNoRo, I was reminded how original Dohnányi’s music is, and how much better it deserves to be known, apart from a handful of works that are frequently performed.

For a rousing closer, they played an arrangement by Austrian composer Thomas Wally of Enescu’s (the sole Romanian composer on the bill) Romanian Rhapsody No. 1 in A major, Op. 11. A compendium of folk tunes and dances, when it broke into the whirlwind Hora section with which it concludes, the ensemble was on fire figuratively—truly exciting, wild, and fabulous. The audience roared its approval.

At the turn of the century (19th/20th), Bucharest was regarded as the “Paris of East-Central Europe,” with sophisticates from the French Paris often traveling there. Enescu himself studied at the Paris Conservatoire, befriending Ravel and performing Ravel’s early Violin and Piano Sonata. It is safe to say that with an ensemble like this, a musical pilgrimage to Bucharest would be well worth one’s time.

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

Distinguished Concerts International New York (DCINY) presents “Messiah…Refreshed!” in Review

Distinguished Concerts International New York (DCINY) presents “Messiah…Refreshed!”

Distinguished Concerts Orchestra, Distinguished Concerts Singers International

Jonathan Griffith, Music Director

Diana McVey, soprano; Claudia Chapa, mezzo-soprano; John McVeigh, tenor; Christopher Job, bass.

Stern Auditorium, Carnegie Hall, New York, NY

November 29, 2015

‘Tis the season! The post-Thanksgiving “holiday season” is here, with talk of “Black Friday” and “Cyber Monday”, and a never-ending stream of enticements for eager shoppers. In the backdrop of this commercial madness, Distinguished Concerts International New York (DCINY) offered their own enticement to music lovers, their 5^th anniversary performance of George Frideric Handel’s Messiah, in what they call “Messiah…Refreshed!” Using the 1959 Eugene Goossens re-orchestration for full symphony orchestra and with chorus members from Colorado, Florida, Georgia, Kansas, New York, Tennessee, Washington, Brazil, Canada, France, Guatemala, Hong Kong, Russia, United Arab Emirates, and “individual singers from around the globe,” the mood was set for what was to be a special afternoon.

I had the pleasure of reviewing the second anniversary of Messiah… Refreshed! in 2012. I will not repeat the historical background of the work and this particular version here; however, the interested reader can follow the link to read what I had written in 2012- Messiah 2012. What was to be of particular interest to me for this concert was the following: 1) How would the soloists fare with such large forces behind them? 2) How would the 2015 performance compare to the 2012?

Jonathan Griffith took the stage and led this mighty assemblage with the practiced assurance that I have come to take for granted from this fine musician. Maestro Griffith never resorts to any histrionics, but one can see how hard he is working at the podium and how much he brings out of his performers. From the clear direction he gives to the orchestra to the sure hand with which he guides the chorus, his expertise is always in evidence in what is not at all an easy task.

DCINY Messiah … Refreshed!

Let’s answer the second question first. What was apparent to me was the greater restraint shown by the percussionists, as opposed to the much more extroverted 2012 edition. The orchestra playing was polished, exuberant without excessive bombast, and showed that continued performances of this work are sure to show continued deepening. It was still “big” without being “big and clumsy.” It should be interesting to follow the continued evolution of future Messiah performances from DCINY.

The vocal soloists were more than equal to the dual challenge of dealing with their extremely demanding parts while projecting above and through the wall of sound behind them. Soprano Diana McVey, who was announced as a last-minute substitute, deserves bonus kudos. Rejoice greatly, O daughter of Zion was the highlight of her solos. Mezzo-soprano Claudia Chapa probably had the most difficult task, as her range often finds itself swallowed by the large forces in the orchestra, but she projected well throughout. She wrung every drop of despair out of He was despised, in what was the highlight of her solos. Tenor John McVeigh’s voice soared throughout with complete assurance. It is not easy to single out one solo for special mention, but Behold, and see if there be any sorrow, was my favorite. Bass Christopher Job was a powerhouse. His Why do the nations so furiously rage together? showed his skill to great advantage.

The chorus was well prepared, and their diction was remarkable, especially when considering that English was likely not the first language of a large number of the chorus members.

One cannot speak about Messiah without mention of the Hallelujah chorus. This listener has been to many DCINY concerts, so I knew very well what was to come. Both second and third tiers were filled with singers, ready to rise on cue. Yes, I knew that that was coming, and when it was to occur – and yet when it did, I was still floored! The magnificent sound of over 400 voices filling the hall as the audience stood (many of those in the audience singing along) washed away my most stubborn attempts to be jaded. Over the top? Perhaps. Thrilling? Absolutely! The audience must have felt likewise, as the thunderous applause at the end of the chorus continued for several minutes.

What follows this is almost an anti-climax, yet the final chorus Worthy is the Lamb that was slain was also given the grand treatment. This time it was the audience that got caught in the excitement and began to applaud at the grand pause that precedes the extended “Amen” from the chorus. The Amen was a glorious ending to a glorious performance. The audience applause was immediate in what quickly became a thunderous ovation. Congratulations to all for a truly uplifting concert experience.

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