Sung-Soo Cho in Review

Sung-Soo Cho in Review

Sung-Soo Cho, piano
Weill Recital Hall at Carnegie Hall, New York, NY
November 27, 2015

If only people flocked to recitals the way they throng the retail outlets on “Black Friday,” they would have been treated to an exceptional young artist of great promise. Sung-Soo Cho looks all of age twelve, but he is probably double that, considering that he is pursuing a doctorate and also teaching at the college level.

The entire recital was extremely well-prepared and played, with abundant mechanical gifts fully displayed in a wide-ranging program (Haydn to 21st century). But technique wasn’t the whole story: Mr. Cho manages to phrase very musically, and definitely has an “ear” for refined piano color and a wide tonal palette. I could only have wished that some of the program had been a bit less controlled, that he had conjured up the sense that he was communing with the instrument and the music more spontaneously—a place he did arrive by the end of the program.

Mr. Cho’s specialty, according to his bio, is contemporary American piano music. Indeed, the finest performance of the evening was his mesmerizing rendition of John Corigliano’s Fantasia on an Ostinato, which refers, through layers of texture, to the Allegretto movement from Beethoven’s Seventh Symphony. In this work, which Mr. Cho made sound much better than it really is, his coloration and sense of organization and drama were superb. The work is indebted to the “minimalist” movement for much of its gesture, but it is a language that Corigliano speaks somewhat “maximally.” Here Mr. Cho was in perfect union with the composition and the piano.

Mr. Cho also brought a beautiful sense of “space” to the Distance of the Moon (a New York premiere) by Michael Ippolito (a student of Corigliano).

Haydn’s Sonata in B Minor, Hob. XVI: 32, which began the recital, was played with great flair and crisp articulation, though in a work so compact I missed the repetitions of the expositions (and possibly even the recaps) in the first and third movements. Let us not treat Haydn as a mere appetizer.

Mr. Cho showed a marked sensitivity to the subtlety of so-called Impressionist French repertoire, playing three Debussy Préludes from Book II with perfect sonority. Les fées sont d’exquises danseuses, in particular, featured “exquisite dancing” of nimble, delicate fingers over the keys.

Before intermission, Mr. Cho barnstormed his way through Liszt’s concert “paraphrase” of Verdi’s Rigoletto. He managed its fierce business with great musicality, perhaps the only thing missing would have been a slightly “grander” air about the whole—surely that will come as he matures.

The final work on the program was Brahms’ compendium of pianistic difficulties: the Paganini Variations, Op. 35, played in its entirety. Here I really felt that Mr. Cho let go and showed us more of himself. He varied the voicing and color of each repeat wonderfully, and at the same time managed to make the piece sound “easy.”

All in all, a successful debut. Just a note, as anyone who reads my reviews regularly knows: If you are giving a recital in a major New York hall (or really anywhere), it is NOT ACCEPTABLE to have no program notes, especially when there are unusual works or premieres on the program.

Mr. Cho favored the audience with a fun encore: A Gliss Is Just a Gliss by David Rakowski.

 

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by Frank Daykin  for New York Concert Review; New York, NY
Distinguished Concerts International New York (DCINY) presents The Music of Dinos Constantinides in Review

Distinguished Concerts International New York (DCINY) presents The Music of Dinos Constantinides in Review

Distinguished Concerts International New York (DCINY) presents The Music of Dinos ConstantinidesIn Homage to the University of Macedonia – Greece
Yova Milanova and Dimitris Chandrakis, violin; Michael Gurt and Maria Asteriadou, piano; Athanasios Zervas, saxophone; Dimitris Patras, cello
Weill Recital Hall at Carnegie Hall; New York, NY
November 20, 2015

 

The music of Dinos Constantinides is so well-crafted that it is easy to forget the sophistication behind it. A generous helping of his chamber music was offered, played by numerous musicians of Greek descent. On this evening, the performers were uniformly excellent, which afforded the reviewer the opportunity to focus on the (mostly) merits of the music, confident that it was receiving the best possible rendition, both in terms of technical achievement and emotional commitment.

I see by this program that Mr. Constantinides has a catalogue system now, the “LRC” numbers. I’m assuming that the early numbers represent the earliest compositions. These, notably the Piano Trio No. 1 and the Sonata for Violin and Piano, both heard here, are in the astringent “12-tone” style that composers “had” to adopt in order to be taken seriously by academia back in the post-WWII climate until about 30 years ago. Luckily, such restrictions are a thing of the past, and Mr. Constantinides’ style is more poignant and expansive when he uses folk or folk-inspired material from his homeland.

However, in both the Sonata and Trio, Mr. Constantinides uses the “tone row” in a very “romantic” way, full of yearning lines and often beautiful sonorities. He also builds arch or three-part forms that are easily graspable by the ear. Sometimes the gesture is more important than the notes of which it is composed.

For me, the standouts of the evening were two. First, the Fantasia for Stelios and Yiannis, a duo for violin and cello. It had a sombre, elegiac quality, doubtless inspired by the homesickness for friends from his school days who have passed away. It was lovingly rendered by Dimitris Chandrakis and Dimitris Patras.

Second, the China IV—Shenzhen, Concerto for Cello and Piano. This long-titled work was beautifully played by Mr. Patras and the vivid (sometimes too loud) pianist Maria Asteriadou. A cadenza-like section played by cello alone with pizzicato notes and sustained legato simultaneously was gorgeous. It did indeed behave like a concerto and not a sonata for cello and piano. This is an interesting genre to add to the possibilities of the chamber music repertoire; and I wouldn’t mind hearing the piano part orchestrated. Mr. Constantinides is a great re-fashioner of his own works.

I always like to ask myself with regard to programmatic music: If some future musicologists were to find the manuscripts with the titles cut off, would the music be appreciable on its own? In terms of China IV, the answer is a resounding yes, although if I hadn’t seen the title, I would have had absolutely no image of a modern Chinese city. The same was true of the dazzling Celestial Musings for alto saxophone solo. It was brilliantly played by Athanasios Zervas, but musically there was really no recognizable symbolization of earth, air, fire, and water, except to take the composer’s own sincere note.

The presence of solo saxophone in a concert of chamber music is unusual. Played with such versatile virtuosity as it was here, it would be a welcome added resource, to be heard more often. The Recollections for solo saxophone was lively, involving hearty foot-stomping.

Ensemble was absolutely excellent between Yova Milanova and Michael Gurt in the Landscape V for violin and piano and the Sonata for violin and piano. Cellist Patras was passionate in the Ballade for the Hellenic Land for solo cello. The tiny Dialogue for violin and cello was wittily and deftly dispatched by Mr. Chandrakis and Mr. Patras. Only the Impressions II for alto saxophone and piano seemed a bit “dramatic” (as was noted by the New York Times some years back), I’d have to say a bit overly so, almost wild, and perhaps just a bit overblown. It broke into a sort of humorous “drunken” waltz twice, a tone that struck me as inappropriate in light of what had been established. Perhaps I’m just not on Mr. Constantinides’ wavelength here.

All in all, a distinguished concert indeed. I’m certain Mr. Constantinides’ composition students are very fortunate to have such humane guidance from a musician who obviously has a lot of heart. He took the stage humbly at the end, visually a sort of cross between an elf and Santa Claus, and remained mostly with his back to the audience, thanking his wonderful performers for bringing his visions to life.

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by Frank Daykin  for New York Concert Review; New York, NY
Larry Weng in Review

Larry Weng in Review

The Stecher and Horowitz Foundation Presents New York International Piano Competition Laureate Pianist Larry Weng in Recital
SubCulture, New York, NY
November 19, 2015

Rainy November evenings may not be ideal for New York concertgoers, but when the concert includes several works by one of the leading composers in the U.S. (along with related mainstays of the repertoire) and is played by exceptional young pianist Larry Weng – and at a casual downtown venue with refreshments – the picture can change rapidly. I had a hunch that I might be rewarded for wading through endless puddles.

For starters, the program included piano works by U.S. composer Lowell Liebermann (b. 1961), a tantalizing prospect. Mr. Liebermann’s works are beautifully idiomatic for the instrument, as the composer himself is a pianist steeped in the keyboard tradition; in addition, Mr. Liebermann is so prolific that, despite his presence on many programs, one always has the sense of barely scratching the surface of his output. To see two substantial works of his on one program is not too frequent, but we had that chance here with Mr. Liebermann’s Three Impromptus, Op. 68 (2000), and his Four Etudes on Songs of Johannes Brahms, Op. 88 (2004) framing Intermission. Bookending these were the opening works, Four Impromptus, Op. 90 of Schubert and the Symphonic Etudes, Op. 13 of Schumann to close – a beautifully balanced combination of the familiar and the new, and with interesting connections among them.

Larry Weng is a musician whom I’d had the pleasure of reviewing previously with particular praise for his Schubert (Aldo Parisot presents Larry Weng in review). On this occasion, his Schubert Impromptus were as thoughtful and well wrought as anyone who heard his NY Debut would expect. Here, his interpretations seemed more orchestral than vocal in conception (complete with some left hand “conducting” during right hand solo lines). His playing illustrated well his own comment from the stage about Schubert’s accompaniments, coloring the same melodic tones differently on different iterations, with different ambiance. Each of the four pieces enjoyed a balance between local color and broad overview, showing polish and sensitivity. The fourth, though, must be singled out for a leggiero touch that went beyond lightness, not feathers but nanofibers – a treat to hear!

The Liebermann Impromptus that followed were introduced by Mr. Weng as possessing certain similarities to Schubert’s. It was ingenious programming by the artist, to engage the audience in such comparative listening – even if the title “Impromptu” leaves things wide open to enable “apples and oranges” comparisons. The Liebermann pieces are naturally quite different (as one would hope, given nearly two centuries’ time difference), exploiting the keyboard’s full range in register, tonality, and dynamics, with much virtuoso writing. Mr. Weng gave them highly compelling performances.

As for Schubertian parallels, more than any similarity to Schubert’s Impromptus, one was struck by an extended, transformed reference to Schubert’s Moment Musical No. 2 in A-flat Major at the beginning of the first Liebermann Impromptu (or so it seemed, without the aid of any Program Notes). From this Schubertian kernel, the music took off into great pianistic flights of imagination. Mr. Weng played it brilliantly, as he did all three. He left the audience in a stunned state at the set’s haunting ending.

After Intermission, we heard Mr. Liebermann’s Four Etudes on Songs of Johannes Brahms, Op.88 (2004), songs of great romance and longing. These seemed really more Brahms than Liebermann, but in either case were welcome, especially in such a soirée-type milieu (and as preludes to Schumann). The Brahms originals are stunningly beautiful, with texts of longing, loss, love, harps and violets, including “Muss es eine Trennung geben” (Op. 33, No. 12), “Es tönt ein voller Harfenklang” (Op. 17, No. 1), “An Ein Vielchen” (Op. 49, No. 2), and “Eine gute, gute Nacht” (Op. 59, No. 6). Anyone who has tried to transfer lieder from voice to solo piano knows what art is required, but Mr. Liebermann’s distribution of these melodies and accompaniments flying across registers appeared to be quite a challenge, more than justifying the title “Etudes.” Much of the originals’ beauty came across in Mr. Weng’s able hands.

Schumann’s Symphonic Etudes, Op. 13, capped off the evening with bravura, despite some glitches. Many pianists go a bit adrift in the Finale, but some messiness elsewhere could perhaps be chalked up to some excessive speed – or possibly a bit of fatigue from the many demands of the rest of the program. In any case, Mr. Weng is a pianist from whom one expects the best, and there were some great moments, particularly the “duet” right before the Finale. The closing spirit was robust, and a cheering audience elicited an encore of the Bagatelle No. 5 in G Major from one of the most moving sets by Beethoven, his Op. 126.

Big congratulations go to Larry Weng and to the Stecher and Horowitz Foundation for this memorable evening.

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by Rorianne Schrade  for New York Concert Review; New York, NY
Scott Watkins, Pianist in Review

Scott Watkins, Pianist in Review

Scott Watkins, Piano
Weill Recital Hall at Carnegie Hall, New York, NY
October 10, 2015

 

American pianist Scott Watkins performed music of Bartók, Hanson, and Debussy last weekend, in a program that was well suited to his particular pianistic and musical gifts. A keen intellect was immediately apparent in his opener, the Piano Sonata Sz. 80 (1926) by Béla Bartók (1881-1945), which drew upon his laser-like focus, faultless memory, and considerable analytic grasp. It was bold and bracing in its relentless rhythms without ever devolving into the earsplitting harshness that one so often hears in this piece. Though many advocate unleashing the beast in this work (a product of the “barbaric” period of the composer’s life), pacing and control are still important – and one can appreciate so much more of the composition if one is not covering one’s ears! Thankfully, Mr. Watkins showed judicious control and steadiness, but with plenty of stamina. For this listener, a fan of Murray Perahia’s recording of the work, it might have benefited from even more imaginative orchestral color, but it was certainly outstanding.

 

The rest of the first half consisted of a remarkable discovery (or rediscovery), the Piano Sonata in A Minor, Op. 11 (1918), by the prominent American composer Howard Hanson (1896-1981) in its first New York City performance. According to Hanson’s own notes, the Sonata was first performed in 1919. Unpublished for nearly a century, the work enjoyed some attention in a different incarnation around the year 2000, when pianist Thomas Labé made his own lushly Romantic completion of the piece from an unfinished manuscript and recorded it for Naxos; timing was not on Mr. Labé’s side, however, because after all that work, another manuscript surfaced, this one complete, and the Eastman School of Music acquired it in 2007. It is this second discovery, the original, which Mr. Watkins performs and has also recorded. Though it is impossible to “unhear” Mr. Labé, who channeled the composer’s style well, one naturally wants to experience Hanson’s actual composition, and Mr. Watkins makes that possible, with excellent attention to detail and respect for the score. This listener sometimes longed for more of a sense of emotional involvement, as the piece has a highly personal expressiveness about it, reminiscent of MacDowell or Grieg; on the other hand, it is not easy to make a heart-on-sleeve approach convincing in such a youthful work without it degenerating into schlock. Some musicians like to downplay the excess while others embrace it, and Mr. Watkins chose the more restrained approach, with the fidelity of a music historian.

Mr. Watkins is currently Associate Professor of Piano at Jacksonville University, and since 2011 he has held the position of Visiting Foreign Scholar at Beifang University’s Conservatory of Music and Dance in Yin Chuan, China. Along with an active career including collaborations with prominent musicians such as violinists Eugene Fodor and Hillary Hahn, he holds a doctorate from Florida State University and clearly has a scholarly bent. It was therefore not so surprising that his playing emphasized the more cerebral qualities in each work.

Debussy’s Préludes Book II were a good match for Mr. Watkins’ gifts. Despite the tendency of many pianists to use the excuse of “impressionism” to run wild and drown some of these twelve pieces in pedal, we know that Debussy was against such abuse, and Mr. Watkins gets it right. He plays with the requisite clarity, but with great sweeps and washes of sound when required. These were excellent performances.

There was delicacy in Bruyères and a haunting quality in Feuilles mortes. Mr. Watkins is an undemonstrative player, but the music spoke for itself. A “straight man” approach in fact enhanced the fun of “Général Lavine” – eccentric and Hommage à S. Pickwick Esq., P. P. M. P. C., as one might expect.

Les tierces alternées (No. 11) was also a highlight. Mr. Watkins was extremely impressive in his handling of its exposed technical challenges. While it is not this listener’s favorite Prélude, it took a prize for sheer digital prowess. Only Les fées sont d’exquises danseuses disappointed a bit, sounding a tad heavy for fairies, but allowances must be made for a bright piano. Feux d’artifice (No. 12) was a brilliant close, played with vivid imagination and fire. All in all, it was a highly praiseworthy concert – a fulfilling musical evening.

 

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by Rorianne Schrade  for New York Concert Review; New York, NY
Distinguished Concerts International New York (DCINY) presents Triptych: A World Without End in Review

Distinguished Concerts International New York (DCINY) presents Triptych: A World Without End in Review

Distinguished Concerts International New York (DCINY) presents Triptych: A World Without End
Distinguished Concert Singers International; Fullerton Chamber Orchestra
Alicia W. Walker, Robert Istad, DCINY Debut Conductors; Kimo Furumoto, director; Tarik O’Regan, DCINY Composer-in-Residence
Stern Auditorium at Carnegie Hall, New York, NY
November 15, 2015

Distinguished Concerts International New York (DCINY) is an organization that has made it a mission to bring to the public music of the immortal masters together with works by talented contemporary composers. In a concert entitled Triptych: A World Without End, works by Mozart, Haydn, Stravinsky, and Bartók were paired with those of Daniel Elder and Tarik O’Regan. Featuring singers from California, Missouri, New Jersey, New York, South Carolina, and others from throughout the United States, in addition to the Fullerton Chamber Orchestra of Fullerton, California, it was to prove to be yet another DCINY success.

Before the concert, an announcement was made in which audience was asked to observe a moment of silent reflection in response to the horrific terrorist attacks in Paris on the evening of November 13th. A quotation from Leonard Bernstein was apt: “This will be our reply to violence: to make music more intensely, more beautifully, more devotedly than ever before.”

DCINY Debut Conductor Alicia W. Walker took the podium and led a fine performance of Mozart’s Missa Brevis, K. 192. The playing was crisp and bright, and the chorus was well-balanced, singing with precise diction. Special mention goes to soprano Tina Stallard, mezzo-soprano Janet Hopkins, tenor Walter Cuttino, and bass Jacob Will, for their admirable work both as soloists and in ensemble with each other. It was an auspicious start to the afternoon.

A World Without End by Daniel Elder (b.1986) in its World Premiere for Chamber Orchestra followed the Mozart. Employing the English translation of the Te Deum from the 1549 Book of Common Prayer for its text, it is scored for chorus and brass sextet (2 trumpets, 2 trombones, horn, tuba), with organ and percussion, a compelling instrumentation. It is a work that mixes the old with the new, the old being, according to the composer, the more “taut” and “principled” writing for the brass, while the new is the freely composed, harmonically and rhythmically modern vocal writing. Kudos go to the brass players, who, by some regrettable omission, were not credited in the program. Their playing was incisive and often arresting. This reviewer (and brass player) enjoyed it immensely. The large chorus was well prepared and their ensemble was strong throughout. Dr. Walker is to be congratulated for the skill in which she led this piece; it was a persuasive performance of a remarkable work.

After intermission, Kimo Furumoto bounded on the stage to lead the Fullerton Chamber Orchestra. An animated conductor, Mr. Furumoto radiated his energy to the ensemble, which responded in kind in delightful performances of works by Haydn (the Overture from Armida), Stravinsky (Eight Instrumental Miniatures, arrangements of “five-finger” piano pieces Stravinsky wrote for budding pianists), and Bartók (Román népi táncok – Romanian Folk Dances). The wind players shone particularly in the Stravinsky, with nimble playing in the demanding passagework, tossed off with ease. After the last note of the Bartók, the string players all held their bows in the air as if suspended in time, until Mr. Furumoto lowered his baton, much to the delight of the audience.

After a short pause, Robert Istad took the podium to conduct the final two works of the afternoon by Tarik O’Regan (b. 1978), The Ecstasies Above, and Triptych. The Ecstasies Above uses text from Edgar Allan Poe’s poem Israfel, about an angel briefly mentioned in the Qur’an, a four-winged master musician whose stance reaches from the earth to the pillars of the heavens. It is highly complex work, scored for two vocal quartets representing, according to the composer, the songs of the angel, a string quartet representing Israfel’s heart constructed of lute strings, and a chorus representing the song of the stars. It is not an easy work to grasp on a single hearing, but nonetheless packs a powerful emotional punch. To quote an audience member seated directly in front of me, “It makes me want to cry, it’s just so beautiful.” This simple statement means more than any complicated musical analysis, and one with which I am in complete agreement. Dr. Istad was an able leader in conveying the power of Mr. O’Regan’s work.

Triptych was originally two separate works (the first consisting of one movement) commissioned for two separate choirs a year apart from each other. The works were joined together in 2005 to become Triptych. The three movements, Threnody, As We Remember Them, and From Heaven Distilled a Clemency, focus on the ways we perceive death. Mr. O’Regan has chosen eclectic texts for his work, William Penn, Muhammad Rajab Al-Bayoumi, William Blake, and Psalm 133 from the 1611 King James Version of the Holy Bible for the Threnody, Roland Gittlesohn for As We Remember Them (with a short epilogue from John Milton), and Rumi, William Wordsworth, 9th century Indian Bundahisin, and Thomas Hardy for the From Heaven Distilled a Clemency.

Threnody opens with the chorus alone, but launches into highly charged and pulsating writing, with the text presented in what the composer calls “collage style.” As We Remember Them is heartbreakingly poignant, especially the “call and answer” between the soprano soloist, Kathryn Lillich, and the chorus. From Heaven Distilled a Clemency is full of energy and drive, culminating in the declaration of the closing text from Rumi “Why then should I be afraid? I shall die once again as an angel blast.” These words end the work in triumph. The audience was visibly moved, and many had tears in the eyes as they rose in a standing ovation. It was a powerful end to an outstanding concert. Mr. O’Regan came to the stage and had to be prodded by Dr. Istad to take a bow, appearing to be somewhat embarrassed by the acclaim.

Congratulations to all the performers. In a world of madness, even if for only a few hours, music triumphed. Lenny would have been proud.

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by Jeffrey Williams  for New York Concert Review; New York, NY
Key Pianists presents Peter Takács: The Beethoven Experience—Middle Beethoven in Review

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

Key Pianists presents Peter Takács: The Beethoven Experience—Middle Beethoven
Peter Takács, Piano
Guest artist: Robert deMaine, Cello
Weill Recital Hall at Carnegie Hall, New York, NY
November 12, 2015

 

Peter Takács continued his admirable Beethoven series, this time focusing on works of the “middle period,” during which Beethoven swore to “take a new way.” Indeed he did, the works are much larger, exploratory, reveling in virtuosic figures and lyrical profundity, interrupted by mysterious keyboard recitatives.

The great thing about this evening was its palpable feeling of lived experience through the music, and passion. Mr. Takács sweeps away any sense of routine or intellectual concept (driven by the past thirty-some years of so-called historically informed performance practice). We aren’t thinking about metronome speeds or nit-picky articulation with Mr. Takács, only emotional meaning. Every single note, even in the brutally rapid passage work, sings. His demeanor at the keyboard is very quiet, economical, never showy or grandstanding.

He opened with the middle sonata of the three from Op. 31, nicknamed the Tempest, supposedly because Beethoven, always annoyed at being asked what his pieces “meant,” growled: “Oh, go read Shakespeare’s Tempest!” No matter, the work was revealed as a romantic struggle of opposites, mysterious sonorities and pleading melodies. Played with more elasticity than customary, Mr. Takács took his own “new way” convincingly.

He was then joined by the excellent cellist Robert deMaine (principal cellist of the Los Angeles Philharmonic) for a transcendent reading of the Cello Sonata No. 3 in A major, Op. 69. Both players shared the same approach, with Mr. deMaine’s passionate expansion mirrored in Takác’s finely detailed partnering. The short introduction to the finale was tear-inducing. The pair also brought out the weirdly obsessive qualities inherent in some of Beethoven’s writing in this, the latest composed of the works on this program.

After intermission, Mr. Takács insisted on playing the Andante favori, WoO 57, (originally intended as the slow movement to the Op. 53 Waldstein sonata) before the actual Waldstein, without interruption. It was an interesting idea, beautifully executed, although since Beethoven actually thought better and removed it from the sonata, I felt it was almost “too much,” especially to hear it before the immense sonata itself. In the Andante, Mr. Takács created a wonderful sense of spatial atmosphere, as though music were being heard across a mountain valley, especially in the poignant coda.

We may now say that Mr. Takács has “climbed K2” after this performance of the Waldstein, and when he completes this series in January with Op. 111, he can be said to have “conquered Everest.” His Waldstein was played with visceral excitement. The phrasing in the Rondo finale was particularly gorgeous. His solutions to the nightmarish glissando octaves in the same finale were ingenious and incredibly soft. All-in-all, a wonderfully lived performance of a touchstone that can all too often just sort of “go by” in the hands of other pianists.

As an encore, he favored his large enthusiastic audience with the Menuetto from the Piano Sonata No. 18 in E-flat major, Op. 31, No. 3 (The Hunt). You have one more chance to hear this artist, with “late” Beethoven, in January. Don’t miss it!

 

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by Frank Daykin  for New York Concert Review; New York, NY
Karolina Jaroszewska in Review

Karolina Jaroszewska in Review

Karolina Jaroszewska – Cello
Julia Samojło – Piano
Weill Recital Hall at Carnegie Hall, New York, NY
November 11, 2015

 

A warm-hearted spirit of generosity pervaded the atmosphere of a very accomplished performance given by cellist Karolina Jaroszewska and pianist Julia Samojło recently at Weil Recital Hall. Ms. Jaroszewska is an intuitive musician, with a big boned, extroverted and plush sound at her disposal. The Chopin Polonaise brillante in C Major, Op. 3, has these same qualities in spades, so it was a savvy vehicle for the talents of both cellist and pianist. The duo chose to perform the Leonard Rose edition, based on Emanuel Feuermann’s arrangement, which alters the subsidiary nature of the cello part, to say the least.   Ms. Samojło tossed off the difficult opening passagework with playful ease and lightness of execution. Indeed, her playing throughout the polonaise was indicative of an understanding of the composer which is rarely seen these days. Ms. Jaroszewsk, for her part, used a wide vibrato to achieve a deeply expressive singing tone. Her security in technical matters was abundantly evident, especially when called upon to play in the more alpine regions of the instrument, which were impressively accurate in this rendition. I don’t think I would be incorrect in saying that both these artists, through their training in Poland, have absorbed a connection, handed down through generations, to the particular spirit and style of Frédéric Chopin.

In an unannounced reversal of program order, Eugène Ysaÿe’s Sonata for Solo Cello, Op. 28, was placed immediately after the Chopin. This proved to be a wise decision, as it allowed Ms. Jaroszewska to expand into the full scope of her interpretive range. Her phrasing and melodic shaping of this sonata were beautifully judged, most especially in the first and third movements. In the concluding Finale Con Brio, she displayed a subtle calibration of dynamics and several different qualities of pizzicato to great musical effect.

A selection of Rachmaninoff songs, arranged by the cellist, were balanced nicely in terms of mood and tessitura (soprano, mezzo, tenor, bass). Ms. Jaroszewska, when operating in soprano territory, played rhapsodically, passionately, in a manner reminiscent of a bygone era. It was Ms. Samojło, however, who made an even greater impression in many moments of austere beauty, her tone exquisite at the close “Like Blossom Dew-Freshen’d To Gladness” and the floating, Debussian quality she brought to “The Little Island”.

Krzysztof Penderecki’s second composition for solo cello, entitled Per Slava, is dedicated to the great Russian cellist Mstislav Rostropovich. It is basically a series of manipulations based on the half tone intervals used to form the name BACH (B-flat, A, C, B) . This would seem to be an artificial construct, yet it is a rich and intensely affecting work. Ms. Jaroszewska gave a terrific performance, committed and musically cogent.

An important recital should end with an important piece, and the Cesar Franck A Major Sonata unquestionably falls into this category. I can’t say that I am completely without reservations concerning the transcription for cello. Much of it works quite well, but in the places where it is awkward, it’s awkward in a disappointing way. Having said that, this duo brought a great deal of energy and panache to their interpretation and they managed some smooth transitions within movements remarkably well. This was a reading with more ardor than color, painted in big, bold strokes. The final movement got off to a shaky start, but they recovered beautifully and triumphantly.

With a snappy, witty encore by Piazzola, the evening came to a close and the grateful audience thanked these gracious performers. I’m partial to musicians like Ms. Jaroszewska and Ms. Samojło. They have done their homework, but in the concert, they plunge in and take risks, and we are better for it.

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by David La Marche  for New York Concert Review; New York, NY
The Olympus Piano Trio In Review

The Olympus Piano Trio In Review

The Hellenic-American Cultural Foundation and the Alexander S. Onassis Public Benefit Foundation (USA) present The Olympus Piano Trio
Regi Papa, violin; Ben Capps, cello; Konstantine Valianatos, piano
Merkin Concert Hall, Kaufman Arts Center, New York, NY
November 5, 2015

These Greeks definitely bear gifts, and they’re not Trojan horses. They are the gifts of immense musical talent, coupled with the fearless technique of youth, and passionate commitment to every note they play. Also, the two foundations that presented the event gave New Yorkers another gift: an absolutely free, no tickets required event.

The Olympus Trio, as a whole, created an incredibly velvety tone at all times, scrupulously balanced (sometimes overly so), with unanimity of phrasing. I especially enjoyed the cellist Ben Capps’ expressive left-hand vibrato and his facial involvement: too often the cellist is in the “thankless” role in a trio. The violinist Regi Papa was less demonstrative, but there was much finesse in his understanding of how to expand a phrase, and in his beautiful sound.

The concert began with a ravishing performance of Rachmaninoff’s Trio élégiaque No.1 in G minor (1892), less often heard than the second one (Op. 9). It was composed in four days, and certainly this shows in the overwhelming preponderance of the piano part, but none of this was apparent from the gorgeous reading given by the Olympians. It emerged from “nothing,” just as Rachmaninoff intended, and progressed to its big climaxes elegantly. The coda’s funeral march was particularly haunting.

Next came a Mount Olympus of a different sort: Ravel’s Piano Trio. Here I had high expectations, and I would have to say that this was a “good” performance, but if the group is still together in ten years, it has the potential to become a “great” performance. The sins were mainly those of youth, and I do apologize for nit-picking. The first movement was far too “gooey,” although it is marked (unusually for Ravel) with numerous tempo changes, the players added too much un-French expressive rubato. The excellent pianist Konstantine Valiantos has a distressing habit of playing with his hands not together (I don’t mean where Ravel has so notated, but elsewhere): this may be allowed, perhaps, ONCE per entire concert, but not so often as here, it’s a careless mannerism. Also, Mr. Valianatos was so careful in his balances that there was often not enough piano (!), which is usually not the issue in this piece. He played a misprint that I have spent a lifetime trying to get people to correct (just because the Beaux-Arts Trio recorded it that way doesn’t make it true): the final note in the first movement piano part (right hand) is an E and G in BASS clef, please.

The second movement, Pantoum, was taken at an appropriate, breakneck tempo, with excitement, despite almost derailing the pianist a couple of times. That he did not get flustered at all is to his credit—so scary is this movement. The Passacaille third movement had the right mood, but oddly here Mr. Valianatos played his opening eight measures too loudly and with intrusive, fussy phrasing, thus ruining the “emergence from darkness.” The two strings’ haunting duo between rehearsal numbers 8 and 9 (Durand edition) was perfection. The Finale was robust, with the piano finally asserting itself fully.

After Intermission, the Trio played the New York premiere of an excerpt from a longer multi-media work called “Constantinople” by contemporary Greek-Canadian composer Christos Hatzis. They played “Odd World,” which was a good play on words, as the folk materials whizzed by in quintuplet meters, and other asymmetrical folk-inspired divisions. It was very accessible, and pleased the large crowd greatly.

Finally, they turned their talents and attentions to another pillar of the repertoire: Mendelssohn’s Piano Trio No. 2 in C minor, Op. 66. It was finely phrased, and the quick movements were marvels of clarity. The desynchronization of the pianist’s hands reached epic proportions here (second movement), and it detracted from my total enjoyment, as I began wondering when it would happen next. The pianissimi, which are rarely observed, were perfect. At the fff statement of the “Doxology” hymn in the last movement, Mr. Valianatos truly broke free, honoring the dynamic with his biggest sound of the evening; I imagine he felt that since no one else was playing he could indulge, for he returned to his deferential style immediately after.

When a group is this good, they deserve to grow and become even better. I hope they will be encouraged, for they obviously give audiences a great deal of pleasure with their music.

 

 

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by Frank Daykin  for New York Concert Review; New York, NY
Adrienne Haan – Tehorah in Review

Adrienne Haan – Tehorah in Review

Adrienne Haan – Tehorah
Adrienne Haan, Chanteuse
Heinz-Walter Florin, Piano
Netanel Draiblate and Perry Tal, Violin
Shmuel Katz, Viola
Yoni Draiblate, Cello
Weill Recital Hall at Carnegie Hall, New York, NY
October 29, 2015

 

Chanteuse Adrienne Haan gave New York another display of her abundant flair for the vintage cabaret material of Weimar-era Germany in Berlin, this time interleaved with songs in Hebrew and Yiddish. (She also sang in English and French). The title of the concert was Tehorah, the Hebrew word for pure. The evening marked the fiftieth anniversary of the beginning of German-Israeli diplomatic relations, which she explained began on May 12, 1965, twenty years and a few days after V-E day.

 The audience was full of diplomatic dignitaries from Germany and Israel, and devotees of Hebrew and Yiddish popular song. Dr. Ruth Westheimer (the media personality “Dr. Ruth”) was even present.

Ms. Haan did not disappoint. I heard her “Rock le Cabaret” earlier this year, and many of the same qualities were present, this time in quieter, excellent arrangements by her pianist/music director, Heinz-Walter Florin (of German nationality), and the Israeli string quartet listed above—musical diplomacy mirroring the international kind. I especially enjoyed the interplay between the two Draiblates: Netanel on violin, and Yoni on cello. I hope I am not incorrectly assuming that they may be siblings—the program did not specify—but their fully involved playing and visual communication lent chamber-music quality to an evening of essentially “lighter” music.

Ms. Haan explained that the concert’s message was one of “love and peace,” two areas in which her personality succeeds in matching the content. She performs this style of music with perfect diction in every language, and without the sometimes sour cynicism of, say, Ute Lemper, whose repertoire Ms. Haan shares. I only wish that Ms. Haan had dug into some of the more bitter colorations possible in the German material, even the seemingly funny patter songs. She did achieve this in what, for me, was the highlight of the evening, her performance of Brecht/Weill’s Seeräuber Jenny (Pirate Jenny). Her snarl and growl were absolutely perfect.

Ms. Haan brought amazing variety to the many verses of the strophic songs, through subtle, tasteful shifts of stance or use of hands, and her face is marvelously responsive, even when she isn’t singing. Alles schwindel (Everybody swindles) from 1931 provided a suitably wry introduction to the evening, but it came off as “merely” a comic song, instead of a knowing indictment. Her rendition of Ich bin von Kopf bis Fuss eingestellt, better known to us as “Falling in Love Again,” was a “lighter” one, wholesome rather than wearily decadent. It didn’t suggest the conflict between wanting and “not” wanting, but was very well-sung, as was the entire program.

A defiant look at ambiguous sexualities called The Lavender Song: Masculinum/Femininum (1920) was dispatched rapidly, yet with crystal clarity and great humor. The composer, Misha Spoliansky, originally published it under the pseudonym Arno Billing, so dangerous was its content.

In the songs in Hebrew and Yiddish, Ms. Haan tapped into a unique reserve of mellow longing and wistful sadness that suited the minor-key lyricism of, for instance, the contemporary Israeli folk-singer Chava Alberstein’s The Exclusive Garden and I Stand Beneath a Carob Tree.

Ms. Haan’s informative yet concise patter between songs taught the audience that the poet of the well-known Lili Marleen was a World War I veteran, and that it was set to music only in 1937, on the verge of the next conflagration.

The evening can certainly be counted a success, because of Ms. Haan’s impeccable taste and her good-natured stage presence. The audience ate up every tune—some of my nearby seatmates were even humming along; and she performs a crucial, dare I say, “educational” role in preserving this music for new generations. However, since her role models (Lemper, Dietrich, et al) in the repertoire are so iconic, I trust she will continue to deepen the layers of characterization in her portrayals—there was a top hat and a feather boa on her prop table that, alas, were never utilized. Auf wiedersehn! Lehit-ra-ot! Zay gezunt!

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by Frank Daykin  for New York Concert Review; New York, NY
The Fourth Rosalyn Tureck International Bach Competition for Young Pianists Presents Gala Winners Concert in Review

The Fourth Rosalyn Tureck International Bach Competition for Young Pianists Presents Gala Winners Concert in Review

Gala Winners Concert, The Fourth Rosalyn Tureck International Bach Competition for Young Pianists
Bruno Walter Auditorium, Lincoln Center, N.Y.
October 18, 2015

 

It is hard to believe, hearing the winners of the Fourth Rosalyn Tureck International Bach Competition for Young Pianists, that it was just 2003 when it was all conceived to honor the celebrated Bach interpreter Rosalyn Tureck just prior to her death. Founded by Golda Vainberg-Tatz in honor of her mentor (and with Ms. Tureck’s blessing), each competition is an enormous undertaking, drawing an international jury and attracting outstanding international participants, ages 7-20. The repertoire, wide-ranging and demanding, makes for great listening, and this year it all took place (with the exception of screening DVDs) in the high visibility venue of the Bruno Walter auditorium, with the co-sponsorship of the New York Public Library for the Performing Arts. I’ve had the pleasure to observe this competition’s Winners Concerts several times, and each time has been of a higher level than the last.

The Jury Members were Emanuel Krasovsky (Chairman), Sara Davis Buechner, Michael Charry, Mirian Conti, Sharon Isbin, Zhou Keng, Jose Ramos Santana, Matti Reakallio, André-Michel Schub, and Founder-Director, Golda Vainberg-Tatz.

The contestants ranged from the promising young Megan Xie, age 8, playing Bach’s Little Prelude and Fugue in G Major (BWV 902) with polish and surprising assuredness for one so young, to Kai Ono, age 19, playing Bach’s Chromatic Fantasy and Fugue (BWV 903), in a style reflecting his varied experience with composition and jazz. The other offerings included more Bach categories (all kinds of Suites, Preludes, Fugues, Toccatas and more), contemporary music (another specialty of Ms. Tureck), and the first honorees ever in the challenging category VIII, none other than the Goldberg Variations! Adrian Fan, age 15, and Angela Xue, age 16, were both recognized in this category, though Ms. Xue performed Sofia Gubaidulina’s Chaconne for the winners’ concert, and quite powerfully.

After the opening of Megan Xie, we heard Anthony Reznikovsky, age 12, in Bach’s Duet No.2 (BWV 803). It was crisp and clear, with beautiful control of the tricky contrapuntal writing.

The gap between ages 12 and 14 is sometimes night and day, and Alexander Tsereteli showed us a glimpse of the developed artist he is headed to be. His Preludes Op.53, Nos.17 and 18 of Nikolai Kapustin were excellent, with a precocious grasp of their jazz-inspired idiom.

Back to Bach, one heard Connor Sung, age 10, in movements from the French Suite in E major (BWV 817). His marked articulations in the Allemande were staccato on each sixteenth, bringing out a perpetual motion quality that many Bach players choose for its connection to the harpsichord style. The intervening Sarabande was a pleasant change in texture, and creatively done. What this listener appreciated most, though, were the declamatory agogic accents in the Gigue, giving this dance movement a sense of gusto.

With a more sedate approach to the keyboard, Benjamin Wolfson, age 9, found beauty in two movements from Bach’s French Suite in C minor (BWV 813), namely the Allemande and the Gigue. Not only was his lyrical approach to the phrases refreshing and unforced, but he gets kudos for performing a Gigue that is one of the thorniest, least child-friendly of the lot.

Next up, Angela Lee, age 11, fairly knocked everyone’s socks off with her Nocturne, No. 4, Op. 38, by Lowell Liebermann. She demonstrated the sensitivity, maturity, power, and pianism that one often misses in pianists twice her age. It is not a huge surprise that, in addition to winning in Category V (Various Works), she also received the Evgeny Kissin Grand Prize.

Enjoying the surfeit of riches, we heard still more Bach, the Toccata in E minor (BWV 914), played by promising young artist Keiju Takehara, age 17, plus the Prelude and Fugue in C sharp minor (Book I, BWV 816), played with complete command by Vladislav Kern, age 16.

Non-Bach offerings included “China Dream” by Zhang Zhao, in the rendition of Xu Yue, age 16, plus (as mentioned before) Gubaidulina’s Chaconne, played by Angela Xue. The latter, showing much of Bach’s influence was an especially good twentieth century choice for this Bachian event.

To close the program, the audience heard a sampling from the Goldberg Variations (BWV 988), as played by Adrian Fan. In addition to (of course) the theme, we heard a wonderfully lively Variation 1, a good Variation 6, and a very precise and well-articulated Variation 7. There was a particularly well-controlled performance of the often scrambled Variation 14, a thoughtful and sensitive Variation 21, plus the subsequent one, and to cap it off, the brilliant Variation 29. One may have reservations about the integrity of excerpting such a piece, but if more and more contestants start performing such a work in its entirety, the Tureck Competition will need to book a venue for months and raise a lot more funds!

All in all, it was an inspiring event. Congratulations to all the young participants whose playing was not only life-affirming, but a reminder never to underestimate human beings based on how long they have lived on the planet! They bring hope for the future. Congratulations go to the directors of the competition for bringing it all to fruition.

 

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