New York Concert Artists & Associates presents Winners’ Evening—An Evening of Piano Concerti in Review

New York Concert Artists & Associates presents Winners’ Evening—An Evening of Piano Concerti in Review

New York Concert Artists & Associates “Winners’ Evening—Evening of Piano Concerti”
Merkin Concert Hall, Kaufman Center; New York, NY
May 19, 2014
Suzana Bartal; Photo Credit: Vincent Mentzel

Suzana Bartal; Photo Credit: Vincent Mentzel


The New York Concert Artists & Associates presented three young artists on May 19 in concerti, one for harp and two for piano. According to founder Klara Min, NYCA&A is a “modern-day realization of Robert Schumann’s Davidsbund, an imagined spiritual fraternity of creative minds.” Whether those values were present at this concert is open for debate, but three aspiring concert artists appeared and played very well. I should say: two played with goodness, and one played with greatness.

The curtain raiser was billed as a “Concerto for Harp and String Orchestra” by Vivaldi (RV93). It was a transcription of one originally for lute, today commonly heard on the guitar. Vivaldi would certainly not have recognized the giant chromatic pedal harp, played by Hae Soo Hahn with great charm, accompanied by a small group of string players led by the excellent Eduard Zilberkant. Ms. Hahn found a variety of colors within the admittedly somewhat restrained palette of the harp’s tone. Notions of historically informed performance practice were banished from this rendition. Mr. Zilberkant gave a very genteel tempo to the first movement’s Allegro moderato, which allowed the music to breathe.

A word here about the NYCA Symphony Orchestra and Mr. Zilberkant is in order, for the following two concerti were both war-horses of the late-Romantic era. It must have been a challenge to fit the requisite players on the small stage of Merkin Hall, itself too small for a presentation of this kind. Acoustically, the sound can’t bloom, and there were frequent balance and intonation problems. However, Mr. Zilberkant was an extremely lyrical leader of this scrappy group, treating every phrase as though he had the Philadelphia Orchestra in front of him. He was also an ideal, flexible collaborator for the soloists.

 

Vladimir Milosevich

Vladimir Milošević

The first piano concerto was the celebrated Grieg A Minor, Op. 16, played with great power and intention by Suzana Bartal. Her strengths lay in the direction of volume and flair, which did not exclude a few moments of subtlety. One wished for more delicacy and poetry however, in the second movement, and in many portions of the outer movements as well. Perhaps she will grow into that and not force the tone so much. Many in the large enthusiastic audience rewarded her with loud applause.

After intermission, Vladimir Milošević played the equally well-known Tchaikovsky First Concerto in B-Flat Minor, Op. 23. Instead of the opening “crashing” chords one usually hears, there emerged full, warm, elegant blocks of tone. His technique was a joy to behold, with flexible wrists that cushioned and created beautiful sound at all dynamic levels. He found colors and phrase shapes that I had forgotten were even possible in this overplayed masterpiece. There was no technical problem in this virtual encyclopedia of “nasty passages” that wasn’t solved with utmost fluidity, combined with poetry. He also appeared to be enjoying himself, sporting with the piece and meshing with the conductor—a hallmark of the highest virtuosity.

I read with dismay that current flooding in Mr. Milošević’s native Serbia is threatening to engulf a Nikola Tesla power plant that provides over half that country’s electricity. If only they could harness the electricity from Mr. Milošević’s beautiful playing, I’m certain they’d be fine.

 

 

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Ana Maria Trenchi Bottazzi in Review

Ana Maria Trenchi Bottazzi in Review

“Yes I Can”: A Musical Soirée; Ana Maria Trenchi Bottazzi, piano
Stanley H. Kaplan Penthouse, Lincoln Center, New York, NY
May 17, 2014

 

Yes I Can. These three simple words are a declaration by the renowned pianist Ana Maria Trenchi Bottazzi, who has been physically debilitated for the last three years, that she would be the one to decide that she could play and would not give in to her conditions. The May 17, 2014 performance at the Stanley H. Kaplan Penthouse at Lincoln Center was dedicated to Ana Siero de Trenchi, Germaine Pinault, Martin Canin, Drs. Patrick O’Leary, Robert Cooper, Anne Moore, C. Ronald MacKenzie, Edward Rachlin, and the entire Bottazzi family, all of whom helped her to be able to perform again. It proved to be an inspiring evening.

Ms. Bottazzi is no stranger to adversity. I remember when I was twelve years old reading an article in Reader’s Digest (“You Won’t Play The Piano Anymore,” by Robert T. Jones, November 1977) about her car accident, the horrific injuries, and the thirteen year struggle to return to the concert stage. There have also been countless surgeries and other challenges. Ms. Bottazzi was wearing a special back support brace and using a cane as she was carefully escorted to the stage. “It is easier to play the piano than it is to walk,” she quipped. She spoke at length, thanking the audience of her friends, family, students, teachers and colleagues, and doctors for their support. The message of the evening was clear- Ms. Bottazzi is a person who believes that anything she truly wants to do is possible, and she will not suffer any naysayers. Some would say that at this point in her life that retirement would be appropriate, but Ms. Bottazzi will have none of that. Doing what others say is not possible has been the leitmotif of her artistic life.

Ms. Bottazzi performed what was part concert and part spoken autobiography, with sprinklings of anecdotes and wisdom for students, musicians, and non-musicians alike. My personal favorite was advice for the student- “I cannot abide when a student hits the piano in anger. Never, ever strike the piano in anger when you make a mistake. The piano did not make the mistake!”

The first half of the concert featured two works and the life stories that were so strongly associated with these works. It would fill many pages if I were to recount the details of these stories, so I will limit myself to brief summaries. The first story, “Yes, I Can”- Paris Conservatory of Music, told of the young artist in bloom in Paris, and her great reverence for her first teacher Germaine Pinault. TheSonata in C major by Baldassare Galuppi (1706-1785) was the piece selected and it played with a delicate touch and close attention to voicing. It was simple, yet heartfelt. Next, First Encounter with my New Teacher, St. Louis, Missouri, told of a new teacher that she hated prior to meeting Martin Canin on February 13, 1970, and becoming his student. The esteemed Mr. Canin was in attendance and smiled as Ms. Bottazzi shared reminiscences about those days. Beethoven’s Sonata No. 23 in F minor, Op. 57 (the “Appassionata”) was the work that followed. It was played with a great understanding of the dramatic pacing. The Andante was especially moving. One must note that there was something lacking in power, and there were moments of struggle, but considering that it must have been extremely difficult to play while wearing a heavy back brace, one should not be overly critical. As Ms. Bottazzi herself said after finishing, “It was not as good as I can do, but under the circumstances it was quite good.”

After a long intermission, Ms. Bottazzi opened the second half with a premier of Variations from the First Sonata by a composer called “Fuchs”, the first name missing from the program. It was neither Kenneth Fuchs nor Robert Fuchs, and it was certainly not Johann, but he was a Fux, not a Fuchs anyway! After some investigation, I learned it was Helmuth Fuchs. This piece was a good parallel to the Galuppi opening, and was played by Ms. Bottazzi with a similar grace. After this, with the story Going to Miami or Haiti, Ms. Bottazzi regaled the audience about her adventures in an airport that had planes leaving and returning to the terminal in a manner worthy of an “I Love Lucy” episode. Ms. Bottazzi then played Chopin’s Nocturne in E-Flat Major, Op 9. No. 2, in a deliberate manner, slowly savoring each phase and with a delicate touch. My First Encounter With and Welcome to Juilliard told the story of Ms. Bottazzi’s struggle and success as she attempted for three years to gain admittance to the doctoral studies program at Juilliard. The Andante Spianato and Grande Polonaise Brilliante from Chopin followed. Ms. Bottazzi bravely summoned her last reserves, projecting flashes of brilliance despite evident fatigue. The musical shape and feeling were well-conceived, and I am certain that if Ms. Bottazzi were to play this again, it would more accurately reflect her artistry.

As an encore, Ms. Bottazzi dedicated Anatoly Liadov’s Music Box, Op. 32 (also commonly known as Musical Snuff Box) to her mother, in what was one of the more unusual dedications I have encountered. Suffice it to say it was a story of rebellion in keeping with Ms. Bottazzi’s feisty spirit. After the Liadov, Ms. Bottazzi was showered with flowers by a procession of students, family, and friends.

 

 

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Distinguished Concerts International New York (DCINY) presents The Cry of Jeremiah in Review

Distinguished Concerts International New York (DCINY) presents The Cry of Jeremiah in Review

Distinguished Concerts International New York (DCINY) presents The Cry of Jeremiah
Distinguished Concerts Orchestra, Distinguished Concerts Singers International
Robert A. Harris, composer/conductor
William C. Powell, DCINY Debut Conductor; Rosephanye Powell, composer/narrator
Alice Tully Hall, Lincoln Center; New York, NY
May 10, 2014
 
Cry of Jeremiah

The Cry of Jeremiah

 

Distinguished Concerts International New York (DCINY) presented a concert of works by prominent African-American composers and scholars Robert Harris and Rosephanye Powell in a program entitled “The Cry of Jeremiah,” at Alice Tully Hall at Lincoln Center on May 10, 2014. Mr. Powell was to conduct the New York premiere of his Gloria. The Cry of Jeremiah (also a New York premiere)was to feature the composer, Ms. Powell as the narrator, with her husband William Powell conducting. With approximately two hundred and fifty singers from Alabama, Illinois, Florida, North Carolina, South Dakota, the Bahamas, and “individuals from around the globe,” it was the tried-and true DCINY formula: Bring together talented musicians and let the magic unfold. This performance was no exception.

Opening the concert was the Gloria. It is a five-movement work scored for chorus, soprano soloist, and orchestra. The movements are Gloria in excelsis Deo, Laudamas Te, Domine Deus, Qui tollis, and Quoniam tu solus sanctus. As is stated in the notes, any of these movements could be performed independently. Often this modular approach leads to some unevenness, but the five movements mesh together well. Gloria is a work filled with brilliance and poignancy. Gloria in excelsis Deo is strongly reminiscent of the opening movement of John Rutter’s Gloria in both the brass and vocal writing. Soprano soloist Heather Hill was exceptional in her role in the Domine Deus and Quomium tu solus sanctus movements. Her upper register was crystalline in its clarity and beauty, with an exquisitely controlled vibrato that was perfect for this work. This listener found the Qui tollis to be particularly compelling both harmonically and stylistically. The bold final movement dies away to a quiet ending with the word Amen delivered almost in a whisper. Mr. Harris is a no-nonsense conductor, who led with understated restraint.It was a performance of which the chorus, orchestra, and soloist could be proud.

The Cry of Jeremiah tells the story of the prophet Jeremiah’s struggles as he is abused and imprisoned for his prophecies. This four-movement work is scored for narrator, chorus, organ, and orchestra, and freely uses the 20th chapter of the book of Jeremiah for the text. Those movements (and corresponding verses) are entitled Is Not His Word Like a Fire (Jeremiah 20:9), O Lord, You Have Deceived Me (Jeremiah 20:7-9), Cursed Be the Day (Jeremiah 20: 14-18),and Hallelujah! (Jeremiah 20:11-13).Each movement opens with the narrator speaking as Jeremiah before the chorus and orchestra enter.

As well as being an accomplished composer, Ms. Powell is an exceptional orator. She became Jeremiah as the words came forth with raw emotion. Those words were at turns despairing, raging, and finally, exultant. The power of her oratory was spellbinding, deepening the meaning of the music that followed. One wonders, with the narration so inextricably bound to the music, whether a less passionate narrator (or omitting the narration) might possibly nullify the power of the music, but such is the case with many similar compositions. In any case, this work most likely was written with a very specific audience in mind, and while it is an effective work for the concert stage, it is an emotionally supercharged work that would enjoy great success in performances at churches or houses of worship.

The music of The Cry of Jeremiah is eclectic. There is Baroque-influenced contrapuntal writing mingling with jazz harmonies and rhythms, and African-American spiritual/gospel vocal styles. Combined with the narration, this is a theatrical work that demands not just to be heard, but to be experienced in all its glory. Conductor William Powell led the Distinguished Concerts Orchestra and chorus with the quiet strength and confidence of one who is in full command. The chorus radiated the emotions of the spoken words with equally passionate ensemble singing. The audience was so taken by this work that they greeted the end of each movement with enthusiastic applause, in spite of the request in the program to hold all applause until the end of the final movement.

When soprano Brandy Woods came to the front of the stage in the Hallelujah! and unleashed a improvisatory solo while the chorus swayed and clapped in a frenzied joy, it brought the already excited audience to a fever pitch. When the last note was sounded the audience sprang up as one in a thunderous ovation, saving the greatest appreciation for Ms. Powell, who was the star of the evening. Ms. Powell joined Ms. Woods in a jubilant gospel-style improvisation as the chorus encored the last section of the Hallelujah. The audience clapped and swayed along to bring the evening to a triumphant close.

 

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Distinguished Concerts International New York (DCINY) presents Vocal Colors in Review

Distinguished Concerts International New York (DCINY) presents Vocal Colors in Review

Distinguished Concerts International New York (DCINY) presents Vocal Colors
Alice Tully Hall, Lincoln Center; New York, NY
April 12, 2014

 

What does one call a concert with 243 singers drawn from seven choirs from Alabama, Georgia, and Indiana, singing fourteen works by fourteen different composers? The presenting organization Distinguished Concerts International New York (DCINY) called it “Vocal Colors,” in what was a night filled with a wide variety of music, some playful, some poignant, but all performed with commitment and a sense of joy.

The honor of opening the concert was given to the Alabama A&M University Concert Choir. Led by Horace R. Carney, Jr., they offered six works that showcased their versatility in a wide range of styles. Humor abounded in Paul Carey’s Play With Your Food, featuring some clever skits (including a serenade to a box of instant mashed potatoes), which had the audience laughing out loud. Water Night by Eric Whitacre was done with sensitivity, but the gospel inspired works were a cut above the rest. The opening work, Lift Every Voice and Sing from Roland Carter, immediately established that this choir was the real deal. Hehlehlooyah from James Furman allowed the choir to demonstrate their mastery of more contemporary complexities, and Stacy Gibbs’ setting of Psalm 46 in Be Still and Know was given a quietly powerful and assured performance. Maestro Carney extolled his choir to pull out all the stops in Moses Hogan’s Elijah, a dazzling tour-de-force that ended their set in triumphant style. The audience loved it and showed the appreciation for this high-octane finale with a well-served standing ovation. I must admit that I would have expected an ensemble of this caliber to close the concert. The high-level of their performance no doubt inspired the two choirs that followed.

After a short pause, four choirs from Indiana joined together under the direction of Scott R. Buchanan. They were the Cathedral High School Singers, the Elkhart Memorial Chamber Choir, the Indiana State University Concert Choir, and the Terre Haute South Chamber Singers. They offered seven works. As with the Alabama singers, versatility was very much a theme. The simple (F. Melius Christiansen’s Praise to the Lord and Blow Ye the Trumpet by Kirke Mechem) and the complex (Hosanna in excelsis from Brent Pierce) were delivered with equal measures of skill in very polished performances. Not to be overlooked were the lovely Autumn by Joshua Shank, using Rainier Maria Rilke’s poem of the same name for the text, and Jeffery L. Ames’ achingly poignant In Remembrance, including piano and violin accompaniment,written after a tragic accident that took the life of one of the composer’s students and two members of her family. Maestro Buchanan steered his forces through these diverse works with careful attention to the subtle details. The highlight of their set was Ritmo by Dan Davison, which was a treat for both eyes and ears. Complete with polyrhythmic hand clapping and stomping, the choreographed movements were in perfect synch, which added an extra dimension to a lively, exciting work. In a final touch of showmanship, the singers executed the “wave” to the delight of all. They brought their set and the half to a festive close with Damon H. Dandridge’s energetic Rockin’ Jerusalem, which was rewarded with a standing ovation.

After intermission, The Combined Choral Ensembles of Davidson Fine Arts School and Westminster Chorale took the stage. Hailing from Georgia, these young singers were led by Timothy Michael Powell in his work Saint George and the Dragon. Many are familiar with the legend of Saint George rescuing the captive Princess Sabra from the evil dragon Ascalon and saving the Kingdom of Silene.  In this version, with libretto by Charles Anthony Silvestri, the story is given a new telling fitting for today’s world. The Princess is someone who wishes to explore everything, but her father gives her up in ignorance to what he thinks is a monster. The dragon is a force for good and sets the Princess free and offers to carry her around the world so she might explore. Finally, our erstwhile hero George is an awkward teenager who is sincere but completely misguided what he believes to be his duty. He is not very bright, but eventually the dragon teaches him with compassion that there is more to things than meets the eyes. George grows into a hero worthy of sainthood, and Sabra and Ascalon fly off to explore the world.  The message is clear:  1. Women do not need saving, they are strong and smart. 2. Appearances can be deceiving. 3. We are all capable of rising above long-held prejudices if we open our minds and hearts to do so.  Mr. Powell has written a work that allows younger singers to showcase their developing talents, without making it sound pandering, a mark of a skilled composer who understands the voice in all stages of development. Including a piano and violin accompaniment, this work was led with the steady guiding influence of Mr. Powell. It was given a standout performance by some up-and-coming talents. It is always a treat to see the smiles on the faces of these young performers as they give it their all. It is an image I never tire of, and when it is paired with a polished performance, it is all the better. The audience loved it and rewarded the group with a standing ovation, ending what was a great evening of music.

 

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Hee Sung Jang in Review

Hee Sung Jang in Review

Hee Sung Jang, Piano
New York Debut Recital
Weill Recital Hall at Carnegie Hall, New York, NY
April 22, 2014

 

Pianist Hee Sung Jang, born in Korea, made her New York debut recital on April 22 at Weill Recital Hall at Carnegie Hall. There were moments of magic in every selection, even when certain details were lacking.

She opened with Haydn’s Piano Sonata in C Minor, Hob. XVI: 20, certainly a gem of this repertoire, but a somewhat odd way to open a recital, because of the work’s essential austerity. It doesn’t sparkle and tease the way many of Haydn’s works do. Brahms liked this sonata so much that he stole the opening rhythmic/melodic gesture of the first movement for his song Immer leiser wird mein Schlummer. Her phrasing and tone quality were stylish throughout, but only in the songful middle movement (Andante con moto) did Ms. Jang reveal how deep her emotional involvement was with the music. It was truly lovely.

She followed that with Ravel’s Valses nobles et sentimentales, which was refreshingly distortion-free, played with flexibility rather than gooey rubato. A number of wrong notes threatened to (but didn’t fatally) mar the performance, which could also have used more gradations in the softer dynamics.

The final group prior to intermission consisted of three of the late pianist Earl Wild’s seven virtuoso etudes based on songs by George Gershwin: Somebody Loves Me, Embraceable You, and I Got Rhythm. Perhaps the epigram that precedes the Ravel Valses: “The delicious and always new pleasure of a useless occupation”- could also be applied to these works. Ms. Jang certainly had sufficient technique to negotiate easily their florid demands. Her piano tone was sumptuous, however, in the first two song/etudes she lacked that little “spark” of wit and coquettishness that Wild had. I call it “playing with a wink.” You know you’re great and you’re having fun. Fortunately, she connected with precisely that quality in the final I Got Rhythm, whose concluding forearm cluster delighted everyone, including Ms. Jang.

After intermission, she tackled (and subdued) the Rachmaninoff Second Piano Sonata, in the composer’s “slimmed down” 1931 revised version. It is hard to believe the work was once nearly twice as long, with even more sequential development and thickets of difficult notes. This was by far the best prepared and executed work on the program, with all of Ms. Jang’s admirable qualities, that tone, and an ability to organize all the passages to form a coherent whole. Although her command of the score was total, I only wished for a bit more fiery abandon. Her delicate lyrical moments were superb however.

Overall: beautiful playing by a very tasteful pianist, with good emotional connection to the music. As she develops under the tutelage of her current teacher, master pianist Anton Nel, I’m sure she will grow into her already large gifts.

 

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Distinguished Concerts International New York (DCINY) presents Bridges to the Future in Review

Distinguished Concerts International New York (DCINY) presents Bridges to the Future in Review

Distinguished Concerts International New York (DCINY) presents Bridges to the Future
The University of Southern Denmark Symphony Orchestra, Saul Zaks, director
Hershey Symphony Orchestra, Sandra Dackow, director
Stern Auditorium at Carnegie Hall, New York, NY
April 22, 2014
 

Distinguished Concerts International New York (DCINY) is justly renowned for presenting groups and performers from around the world in New York’s famous concert halls – and to enthusiastic audiences. On April 22, DCINY presented not one, but two orchestras, the University of Southern Denmark Symphony Orchestra and the Hershey Symphony Orchestra in a concert entitled “Bridges to the Future.”

The University of Southern Denmark Symphony Orchestra took to the stage to start the concert. “Dance of the Cocks” from the opera Maskarade (Masquerade) by Carl Nielsen (1865-1931) was the first piece. What could be more natural than a Danish orchestra playing a selection from Denmark’s national opera and from the pen of the man most consider to be Denmark’s greatest composer? This spirited piece was played with an extroverted and expansive sound, from the bold, decisive attacks in the opening bars to the rousing finish. The string section was especially strong in some very fine ensemble playing. The winds had moments of less than precise playing, but the overall effect was excellent. Conductor Saul Zaks led with a steady hand, never allowing the exuberance of Nielsen’s conception to become overblown.

Following the Nielsen was the Piano Concerto in A minor, Op. 16, by Edvard Grieg. Of course Grieg was Norwegian, not Danish, but one can make allowances for the Scandinavian connection. Christian Skovgaard Flarup was the un-credited soloist (this I was able to figure out from the personnel listing of the orchestra and connecting his appearance at the piano in a later work). In what can only be described as a curious choice, the first two movements were the only ones played. I am familiar with the idea of playing a single movement of a concerto (usually as a time-saver or time-filler, or for a young artist to play with orchestra as a special reward), but to offer two movements, while omitting the third strikes me as a poor decision. One can speculate on the reasons for this – the most plausible (based on a last-minute quality to the performance) might be that the soloist had not as yet mastered the finale. The net effect spoiled the work, and it would have been better either to omit the second movement as well or to have not played the work at all. There were moments in the first movement when orchestra and soloist were out of synch, but Maestro Zaks worked very diligently to keep everyone together. Mr. Flarup gave a credible performance, but the cadenza in the first movement was played with excessive caution, which stripped all the drama away. He has undeniable talent, but there is still much work to do, based on this concert.

Following the Grieg came music from the 1942 ballet Tolv med Posten, Op.37 (“Twelve by the Mail,” based on the Hans Christian Andersen story of the same name), by Estonian-born, Danish composer Knudåge Riisager (1897-1974). Three selections were offered, full of charm and whimsy, but also including some brilliant writing for the brass. The excellent string playing was joined by equally dynamic work from the winds and brass. In the closing measures of the last selection, the entire winds and brass sections stood, bringing this delightful set to a joyful close.

As a last-minute addition to the program, Oblivion, by the Argentine tango master Astor Piazzolla, ended the half. After the happy-go-lucky Riisager, it seemed to be an odd choice to end the half with this melancholic piece. Perhaps it was meant as a warm-up for the second portion of their program. In any case, the cello soloist was rewarded with a standing ovation for his sensitive performance. Sadly, his name was only hastily announced before the start of the program as the large audience was at its pre-concert loudest, drowning out any hope of actually hearing it.

Before moving on to the second half, I must address a serious issue. The complete omission of any program notes, biographical information for composers, and soloists’ names (especially in a Piano Concerto!) was at best an unaccountable carelessness that I am not prepared to excuse (not to mention the misspelling of Danish national treasure, Hans Christian Andersen). This concert was a big event for this orchestra, playing in one of the finest concert halls in the world, so it is mind-boggling that these amateurish oversights occurred. It is disrespectful to the listening audience, who should not be expected to have expert knowledge of these works and the composers. It undercuts the efforts of these fine musicians, who, of course are not responsible for this, but nonetheless are assigned the guilt by association. They, as well as the audience, deserve better.

The Hershey Symphony Orchestra hails from Hershey, Pennsylvania. Led by the energetic Sandra Dackow (who provided program notes for her group’s works), they took the stage to open the second half. Their program consisted of two works, Danzón No. 2 by the Mexican composer Arturo Márquez (b. 1950) and the much-loved Polovtsian Dances from Prince Igor of Alexander Borodin.

Danzón No. 2 is a work overflowing with rhythmic vitality that captures the energy of the Cuban and Mexican dance style that it is named for. While it was premiered in 1994, its explosion of popularity can be attributed to Gustavo Dudamel’s programming of this work in 2007 for a North American tour with the Simón Bolívar Youth Orchestra. Maestra Dackow was an ebullient tour guide as she led her ensemble in what can be called a ten-minute journey of unbridled fun. The playing was passion-filled, and at times even overzealous in terms of volume, but no doubt the Hershey players were captured by the adrenaline rush of the moment. In any case, I’ll happily take some over-exuberance to a lackluster reading every time.

Next up was Borodin’s Polovstian Dances. Themes from these dances were used in the musical Kismet, the most famous being the unforgettable Stranger in Paradise. From the hauntingly beautiful opening and first theme, to the final notes, this was another performance filled with animated conducting and playing. Aside from occasional intonation issues, this was a fine performance of which the Hershey Symphony can be proud. One could sense that both Maestra Dockow and the orchestra were having the performance of their lives. One often hears of athletes “being in the zone” when they are performing at an exceptionally high level. The Hershey Symphony was in the zone, and it was wonderful to see Maestra Dockow pump her fist in exaltation at the end of the Borodin. The audience agreed and responded with a raucous standing ovation.

After a small pause, The University of Southern Denmark Symphony Orchestra returned to the stage for the second portion of their program, which was dedicated to the art of the tango. This might seem an odd choice from a Danish orchestra, but one considers that Maestro Zaks was born and raised in Argentina, it all makes sense. Bandoneon player Paolo Russo was the soloist in works by Piazzolla, Eduardo Rovira, Carl Nielsen (in an arrangement Mr. Russo made) and a work from his own pen called Corrientes y Callao. Maestro Zaks has taught his orchestra the art of the tango well in performances that transported the audience to the cafes and clubs of Buenos Aires. Mr. Russo was an engaging soloist, capturing the mood with both his skillful playing and his charismatic stage demeanor. All the stops were pulled out for the last piece of the night, Piazzolla’s popular Libertango, which closed the tango set with a bang. The audience members roared their approval.

 

 

 

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Aldo Parisot presents Larry Weng in Review

Aldo Parisot presents Larry Weng in Review

Larry Weng, piano
Weill Hall at Carnegie Hall, New York, NY
March 12, 2014

 

In an age where solo debuts compete for attention like so many “selfie” portraits, it is not easy to stand out. It helps if one comes with the endorsement of a master in the field, as did Chinese-born 26-year-old pianist Larry Weng, presented by Professor Aldo Parisot of the Yale School of Music where Mr. Weng is currently a graduate student. What also “helps” (and this is much deeper than mere career advice, hence the quotation marks) is the attendance of even more powerful luminaries – in this case Schubert, Chopin, and Ravel – with the kind of playing that invites the composers in as the guests of honor, rather than mere facilitators. It happens less often than one would like, but Mr. Weng is an extremely sensitive musician and mature interpreter who did just that. He brought great music new life in one of the outstanding debut recitals of the season.

Mr. Weng’s program opened with Chopin’s Polonaise-Fantasie Op. 61, a masterpiece from late in Chopin’s life. One doesn’t normally think of this work as an opener, partly because it has such autumnal, ruminative qualities that lend themselves to the post-intermission lull – and partly because of its interpretive difficulties; Mr. Weng, however, made me a believer in this programming. The sprawling improvisatory opening became a perfect prelude to lure the listener into Mr. Weng’s musical world. Instead of fighting its meandering tendencies as some do in effort to keep it from falling apart at the seams, he followed its dreaming lines wherever they seemed to lead. It had spontaneity and inevitability, along with convincing cohesion – quite a feat! Contrary to popular musical advice, yielding to each moment can at times unify the whole better than straitjacketing a creation into some perceived planned structure. In any case, Mr. Weng’s expressive phrasing and tonal beauty carried the listener effortlessly to its brilliant ending. His technique was more than ample, a few smudges towards the end notwithstanding.

Oiseaux tristes followed – in beautiful sequence – bringing us into the world of Ravel’s Miroirs, of which Mr. Weng also included the movements Alborada del gracioso and La vallée des cloches. While I’ve usually preferred to hear (and play) these as a complete set, I confess that I barely missed the omitted ones (Noctuelles and Une Barque sur l’océan). Also, after the expansive approach that Mr. Weng took to the Chopin (giving it a somewhat longer duration than the average), the shortened group was welcome. Undiluted and undistracted by Noctuelles, the delicate Oiseaux Tristes was particularly poignant in isolation. Only the fiery Alborada couldsnap one out of the trance, and it certainly did the trick with this pianist’s crisp rhythms and fine finger-work. Mr. Weng handled its formidable repeated-note passages expertly. The breathtaking musical colors of La vallée des cloches closed this set, leaving only the same composer’s La Valse for the first half. La Valse is a rousing closer to a half – and it was given a rousing rendition here. Most performances of this work leave one wanting just a bit more tweaking from the multiple editions available (printed and other), as Ravel left some problematic sketchiness in his transcription from orchestra to piano. Often the orchestral textures are either thickened to excess or left sounding bare or skeletal, so rarely is every listener happy in each section of it; all in all, though, Mr. Weng’s sense of flair for this French-Viennese flavored Waltz carried the day, and the overall sweep was wonderful.

The entire second half was devoted to Schubert’s Piano Sonata in A Major, D. 959, among the composer’s great late masterpieces. Here, perhaps most in the entire recital, one could hear the extent of Mr. Weng’s artistry, mature beyond his young years. He sustained enormously long lines and sections while never forgetting Schubert, the lieder composer, and Schubert, the chamber music composer. One could quibble here and there, for example over a bit of rushing in the last movement (arguably justifiable in the name of momentum), but overall it was one of the finest live performances of this work that I’ve heard. Hearty ovations were rewarded with an encore of more Schubert, the Impromptu in G-flat, Op. 90, No. 3 (D. 899/3). It was sublime, again with surprising little turns of phrase that gave it life without tearing at the fabric of the piece. Mr. Weng should have a very bright future, and I join his audience in looking forward to hearing more from him.

 

 

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Korea Music Foundation presents Jung-Ja Kim in Review

Korea Music Foundation presents Jung-Ja Kim in Review

Jung-Ja Kim, piano
Alice Tully Hall, Lincoln Center; New York, NY
April 15, 2014

 

The Korea Music Foundation presented Jung-Ja Kim, pianist, in an interesting benefit recital at Alice Tully Hall on April 15. Ms. Kim, a winner of many competitions, including the Young Concert Artists International, New York Philharmonic Young People’s Concerts, and the Kosciuszko Chopin Competition, is now a veteran of the international concert circuit, and a professor of piano at the Boston Conservatory.

Ms. Kim had the intriguing programming idea of three of Maurice Ravel’s major works, plus one work (also major) by American composer Aaron Copland. From the outset, it was clear that Ms. Kim possesses a great pianistic elegance, beautiful sound, and astonishing technical fluency, even in the thorniest passages of the Ravel works. She also possesses a deeply personal approach to each phrase, leading the lines where she wants them to go, with obvious emotional commitment. That being said, it wasn’t always the best choice for some of the programmed Ravel pieces.

The Sonatine, a pristine neo-Classical jewel, with which she opened the program, was beautifully presented, poignantly and clearly. More attention could have been paid to the contrapuntal lines and voicing. The whole seemed a bit too hazy, although well-played and convincing.

In the Miroirs (Mirrors), a five-movement programmatic set of “reflections” on objects (or sounds), two of the five were absolutely stunning, benefitting from Ms. Kim’s introspective playing: the Oiseaux tristes (Sad Birds), and La Vallée des cloches (The Valley of the Bells), which chirped, sighed, and reverberated appropriately, and had gorgeous voicing. In the other three, however, one wished for more irony and sharp humor, an important part of Ravel’s “Apache” esthetic. The Noctuelles (Night Moths) didn’t vanish into thin air (or ash), as they ought. The climaxes in Une Barque sur l’océan (A Boat on the Ocean) never rose high enough to engulf the sailboat. The dry wit of the jester in the Alborada del gracioso was insufficiently biting; the central recitative section was beautifully delineated however.

Probably the least successful performance of the night, for me, was Ravel’s Valses nobles et sentimentales, though one would never have guessed it from the enthusiastic audience reception—again a testament to the communicative power of Ms. Kim. In the very first waltz, she was far from très franc (very forthright) as requested by Ravel. She distorted every measure with great rubati, which Ravel despised. This mannerism grew throughout the work, despite much beautiful piano coloration. Ravel’s score is lavishly marked, with words he seldom used, such as très expressif and also the dreaded rubato, but he wanted it precisely where he had indicated. Only the seventh waltz was played really beautifully, with the lilting charm it needed. Ms. Kim also waited too long between every waltz, even when most are marked to follow immediately. She spoiled what Yvonne Lefébure (a Ravel pupil who worked with him for over one hour on just the first few measures of the first waltz) called the “essential philosophical unity” of the seven waltzes plus nostalgic Épilogue.

Suddenly, with Copland’s masterful Piano Variations (1930), a new, fierce, pianist seemed to take the stage. The theme is a mere four notes long (E, C, D#, C#), a sort of distorted transformation of the four note subject of Bach’s C-Sharp Minor Fugue from The Well-Tempered Clavier Book I. The fourth note isn’t even played; it is depressed silently while other notes are struck violently and released, leaving the “ghost” note to vibrate its overtones. This establishes many of the procedures for the rest of the piece: 20 variations and a coda. I’ve always felt that this work is a successor in importance, if not in Romanticism, to Schumann’s Études Symphoniques. Ms. Kim played this thorny example of American modernism with appropriate verticality and great momentum, lyricism where required, and sparkling wit in the more playful passages. It was a memorable rendition of this neglected work.

She favored the clamoring crowd with one encore: Schubert’s G-Flat Major Impromptu, played with deeply personal, rapt lyricism. She was in private communion with the music, as she had been all evening.

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Distinguished Concerts International New York (DCINY) presents The Drop of Dawn in Review

Distinguished Concerts International New York (DCINY) presents The Drop of Dawn in Review

Distinguished Concerts International New York (DCINY) presents The Drop of Dawn
Distinguished Concerts Orchestra, Distinguished Concerts Singers International
Jonathan Griffith, Music Director; Christopher Tin, composer-in-residence
Stern Auditorium at Carnegie Hall, New York, NY
April 13, 2014
 

In a concert entitled The Drop of Dawn, Distinguished Concerts International New York (DCINY) presented the music of Christopher Tin. The title makes reference to the two works on the program, Calling All Dawns, and the World Premiere of his latest work, The Drop That Contained the Sea. Featuring eight vocal soloists and chorus members from Georgia, North Carolina, Illinois, Washington, California, Wisconsin, Vermont, Indiana, Pennsylvania, Canada, England, and “individuals around the globe” (the program listed 543 singers!), it was what I have come to expect from DCINY – an extravaganza.

Christopher Tin (b. 1976) is a composer whose works cover diverse genres. Mr. Tin has written for orchestra, electronica, film and television, and video games. Calling All Dawns won two Grammy awards, for Best Crossover Classical Album and Best Instrumental Arrangement Accompanying Vocalists (for Baba Yetu).

The concert opened with Calling All Dawns. This is the second time DCINY has programmed this work, the first time at Avery Fisher Hall on April 7, 2013. I had the privilege of reviewing that performance for New York Concert Review. For information about the background of Calling All Dawns and my impressions of that performance, interested readers can refer to that review by clicking here: Calling All Dawns in Review April 7, 2013. Since that occasion, I have had the opportunity to hear the recording of this work and study parts of the score, and have found my initial reaction to this crowd-pleaser to be mostly unchanged.

What was especially interesting about this performance was that the soloists often took multiple roles (in multiple languages), whereas the prior performance had featured a multitude of soloists in singular roles. This was no mean feat, considering that many of the languages were not ones that one would usually encounter in the concert hall. Tenor soloist Saum Eskandani was at times inaudible in the Baba Yetu and Rassemblons-Nous movements, which I would attribute to excessive exuberance from the orchestra (especially the percussion section) coupled with the failure to quickly correct a microphone level that was too low. When Mr. Eskandani could be heard clearly, he delivered emotionally charged performances. Fadista Nathalie Pires and Mongolian vocalist Nominjin invested every last ounce of passion in their songs, while Anonymous 4 singer Jacqueline Horner-Kwiatek and Indian Classical vocalist Roopa Mahadevan showed everyone why Mr. Tin had selected them for the Calling All Dawns recording. Finally, Jerome Kavanagh delighted the audience when he came on stage in Maori tribal dress, chanting in Maori and dancing in the final movement.

Conductor Jonathan Griffith led the large forces with his customary skill, while the chorus was having the time of their lives swaying to the music as one. It was everything a performance should be – polished technically and delivered with uninhibited joy by individuals who truly love what they are doing.

At the start of the second half, Jonathan Griffith and Christopher Tin joined together for an impromptu conversation onstage about The Drop That Contained the Sea. Mr. Tin stated that he had been travelling around the world seeking the specific vocal sounds of different cultures to use for this work. The Drop That Contained the Sea is a ten-movement work. As with Calling All Dawns, each movement is in a different language, those languages being Proto-Indu-European, Turkish, Bulgarian, Xhosa, Mongolian, Portuguese, Sanskrit, Ancient Greek, Old Norse, and Lango. Even though one can say that the blueprint is similar, the end product is reflective of Mr. Tin’s deepening maturity as a composer. While retaining his marked ability for writing music with a wide appeal, he has also formed his own distinct voice without any obvious influences (including from his own Calling All Dawns). The Drop That Contained the Sea is a powerfully dramatic work, well-conceived and skillfully realized. For those persons unable to attend (or for those who want more), a recording of The Drop That Contained the Sea (due for release on May 8, 2014) is available for purchase at www.christophertin.com

The soloists had smaller roles than in Calling All Dawns, but all delivered strong performances. It was especially gratifying that Saum Eskandani’s voice was consistently heard here in its full resonance. Nathalie Pires, Roopa Mahadevan, and Nominjin returned and were joined by Mezzo-soprano Charity Dawson, who proved herself to be a powerhouse. This was a winning combination of talents, and one might hope they appear on the soon-to-be released recording.

The chorus handled the demands of the often complicated writing and the diverse languages with remarkable ability, and the Distinguished Concerts orchestra was very effective in handling the different colors and moods, from the serenity of Devipravaha (Goddess River) to the fierce Viking-like intensity of Haf Gengr Hríðum (The Storm-Driven Sea). Once again, one must praise Jonathan Griffith for leading an excellent first performance of a complex and emotionally charged work.

The final movement Waloyo Yamoni (We Overcome the Wind) ended with all the soloists, the on-stage choir joined by several hundred more singers in the balconies, and the full orchestra in an explosion of sound bringing this fine work to a exultant conclusion. Recalling what I had written in the April 7, 2013 review, “The audience reacted after the final notes with the loudest and longest standing ovation I have ever heard at any concert. Mr. Tin was called to the stage and the ovation became deafening.” The reaction tonight moved the bar up many decibels! It was a fitting end to a wonderful evening, and I eagerly await the next collaboration between Mr. Tin and DCINY.

 

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The Scriabin Society of America presents Alexander Scriabin: The Russian Prometheus in Review

The Scriabin Society of America presents Alexander Scriabin: The Russian Prometheus in Review

Alexander Scriabin: The Russian Prometheus
Dmitry Rachmanov, piano
Zankel Hall at Carnegie Hall, New York, NY
April 13, 2014

 

Dmitry Rachmanov’s all-Scriabin piano recital on Sunday, April 13, 2014, was indeed a “poem of ecstasy” in every sense: giant in conception, quantity, quality, execution, thoughtfulness, and sensitivity. Anchored by four of Scriabin’s ten piano sonatas (numbers 2, 4, 10, and 5), the “little” pieces in between were hardly palate cleansers, and each half of the recital was masterfully organized so that each piece led to the next one logically. Some might say that an entire afternoon of only Scriabin was too limiting, but with such intelligent programming it had all the variety one could wish for, along with the underlying unity of the composer’s musical values and mystical philosophy.

Let me describe something not often touched upon in reviews—stage demeanor and piano presence. When Mr. Rachmanov took the stage, he seemed absorbed in steely concentration, as would any conscientious interpreter at that moment. There was no grandstanding here. His technique was a marvel to witness: he never left the surface of the keys, no matter how fast or fierce the figures. This enabled him to achieve the utmost richness of tone and glorious voicing, with never a harsh tone, even at Scriabin’s wildest, most extroverted visionary moments.

From the very first chords of the Prelude, Op 13, No. 1, the deep authentic Russian tone was established, never to be abandoned at any point in this wonderful afternoon. In the Second Sonata, one clearly heard the moonlight glistening on the waves of the Black Sea, where Scriabin spent his honeymoon (the composer’s own programmatic association), which evolved into the tempestuous waves of a capricious ocean in the Presto second movement.

Mr. Rachmanov allowed the tension to relax with a flirtatious rendition of the Waltz, Op. 38, a sort of deconstructed “caprice-waltz.” When the opening theme returned in forte octaves, one was conscious neither of strain nor of any slowing down.

He captured the volando (flying) quality of the Fourth Sonata perfectly, again, with hands close to the keys. This is a pianist’s pianist. His students are certainly lucky to have the opportunity for him to transmit his skill to them. The Tenth Sonata abounds in descriptive directions to the performer (in French) that supplement the purely musical ones we usually encounter (my translation): very soft and pure, with deep and veiled ardor, luminous, vibrating, with emotion, restless, panting, with flair, with joyous exaltation . . . to name but a few. All were captured perfectly with Mr. Rachmanov’s seemingly limitless color range. This is no small point in a composer, Scriabin, who some believe had the condition known as synesthesia, one form of which is the hearing of sounds as distinct colors.

Mr. Rachmanov closed with the Fifth Sonata, written about the same time as the Poem of Ecstasy, and containing the composer’s credo: “I call you to life, oh mysterious forces!” Behind all the pianistic richness, one senses glimpses of worlds that only Scriabin could experience directly. Mr. Rachmanov helped everyone go toward their own visions, with his expert performances.

He favored the large, enthusiastic audience with three encores, including the omnipresent Étude, Op. 8, No. 12, a war-horse of Horowitz. Here it sounded more massive, as though the color was being revealed from within, rather than applied as make-up (and I am a Horowitz fan).

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