Heather Sorenson, composer/conductor/piano

Joseph M. Martin, composer/conductor

Distinguished Concerts Orchestra

Distinguished Concerts International Singers

Heather Lake Bayes, soprano; Ryan Johnston, tenor; Sue Martin, soprano; Layke Jones, baritone

Stern Auditorium at Carnegie Hall, New York, New York

November 27. 2023

The holiday season is now in full swing, and Distinguished Concerts International New York (DCINY) is once again adding to the festivities with their holiday concerts. Yesterday, (Sunday 11/26) Handel’s Messiah kicked off the series. Tonight, it was a concert entitled Hope and Dreams, featuring Christmas Dreams, a collaboration between Heather Sorenson and Joseph M. Martin, and the New York premiere of Ms. Sorenson’s Requiem. Excitement filled the hall as the Distinguished Concerts Singers hailing from Arkansas, Colorado, Florida, Georgia, Maine, Tennessee, Texas, Virginia, and individual singers around the globe, took the stage.

Heather Sorenson took the podium to conduct the New York premiere of her Requiem. Commissioned by the Florida United Methodist of Gainesville, Florida (FUMC) in honor of those lost during the COVID-19 pandemic, her Requiem was written to bring hope and healing to all who have experienced loss. This work is a combination of traditional Latin and English, with references to Scripture and hymn texts. Clocking in at around thirty-five minutes, it is, as the program notes state, “an authentic journey of grief and peace, tension and release.”

While the concept of a requiem addressing those still living is not novel (e.g., Dan Forrest’s Requiem for the Living) and neither is the interspersing of English with Latin (e.g., Mark Hayes’s Requiem), what sets Ms. Sorenson’s Requiem apart is her own unique brand of tonal beauty. She has a gift for melody and making those melodies harmonically interesting.

I’m not going to comment about all eight movements but will focus on some of the highlights – the program notes specifically suggest the listener take particular note of the Introit, Sanctus, Pie Jesu, and Lux Aeterna with “what to listen for” explanations. Of these suggestions, I will address two. The Sanctus had a driving energy and exuberance verging on ecstasy (complete with xylophone and a “stinger” end) that one usually does not encounter in a Requiem. The call for whispered prayer in the Pie Jesu (indicated by triangle as to the beginning and ending of those prayers) was poignant – one could see the chorus engaged in this. Now, two more movements of note: the Kyrie, from the solo cello opening to the last note, was exceedingly beautiful. The Agnus Dei had a martial quality that was notable – this lamb was not meek, but strong and proud.

Let’s take a moment to recognize the two vocal soloists, soprano Heather Lake Bayes and tenor Ryan Johnston, who gave heartfelt performances. One could sense their complete devotion to the music, and this lent wings to their work. The combined forces of the chorus were excellently prepared by their respective directors and as a group projected all the beauty of the music with attention to balance, diction, and intonation. The Distinguished Concerts orchestra can always be counted on for polished, committed playing.

After the last notes of the Benedictus, the audience gave Ms. Sorenson a standing ovation. I hope to hear more from her in the future.

After intermission, DCINY favorite Joseph M. Martin (his 12^th appearance with DCINY) took the podium to conduct Christmas Dreams. Ms. Sorenson joined as the pianist. Christmas Dreams is credited with Ms. Sorenson and Mr. Martin as composers. It was not stated in the program notes as to the details of their collaboration (i.e., who did what). Soprano Sue Martin and baritone Layke Jones were the featured soloists.  Mr. Martin describes the nine-movement Christmas Dreams as a cantata that takes inspiration from God speaking to seekers through dreams and visions of His purpose. As he states, “Christmas is a time for dreams when we once again turn our thoughts to light, peace, love, and joy.”

I have written extensively about Mr. Martin in past reviews, so I would just like to repeat that Mr. Martin is highly skilled as a composer, with a gift for dramatic sense and an ability to express this sense harmonically. He is also an energetic conductor, whose energy is reflected back powerfully by the orchestra and chorus.

The opening instrumental Christmas Dreams Overture, with quotes from Hark! The Herald Angels Sing, and Good King Wenceslas set the tone for the work. There is something of the movie soundtrack (like a Disney spectacular) that abounds in this work, and I do not say that as an insult. It is something that most listeners can grasp and appreciate easily – indeed one could see the audience being pulled in. The urgency of A New Morning of Promise, the musical “snow globe” of the eighth movement called Christmas Dreams (with Ms. Sorenson as piano soloist), and the triumphant finale Hark! The Herald Angels Sing were highlights for this listener.

About the soloists: Ms. Martin has a pure, child-like singing tone that is enchanting. She perfectly captured the essence of the Mary’s Dream movement in heart-melting beauty. Mr. Jones was a revelation, with a voice that brought to mind Josh Groban (a singer I enjoy hearing). His singing in The Magi’s Epiphany wowed the hall. While all the soloists were stars tonight, he brought something extra to his performance that set him apart.

At the risk of repeating myself, I will say again that the chorus was well-prepared and ready to unleash a joyful performance, which they sure did! After the last joyous exclamation of Gloria! that concludes Hark! The Herald Angels Sing, the audience unleashed a loud standing ovation, ending the night in triumph. Happy Holidays to all!

Distinguished Concerts Orchestra and Distinguished Concerts Singers International,

Jonathan Griffith, DCINY Artistic Director and Principal Conductor

Penelope Shumate, Soprano; Holly Sorenson, Mezzo-Soprano

Chad Kranak, Tenor; Christopher Job, Bass-Baritone

Stern Auditorium, Carnegie Hall, New York, NY

November 26, 2023

You know it is officially the holiday season when Distinguished Concerts International New York (DCINY) brings Handel’s Messiah to Carnegie Hall, and once again this year they magically transformed this reviewer’s post-Thanksgiving stupor into a readiness for carols, miracles, and all things Christmas. In case we needed a little extra magic, DCINY even had a Santa on hand, “working the crowd” before the concert. Though Handel’s music needs no such extras, many children could be heard requesting selfies with old Saint Nick in what may become a family tradition for many.

Several writers at New York Concert Review have reviewed this recurring gift to the New York concert scene over the years, so to avoid restating the same background information on history and differing versions, the reader can find more in this 2022 review: Mozart’s Messiah 2022. Though there have been variations in DCINY’s chosen versions (including those by Goossens and Mozart) and varying soloists and choruses (some returning and some new), the feeling of exhilaration seems as great or greater each year.

This year DCINY again chose (as in 2022) Mozart’s version, sung in English. They performed what are commonly called the “Christmas portions” of the three-part oratorio, those being the twenty-plus movements of Part I, plus the Hallelujah Chorus of Part II as its finale. Gone were some of the more somber sections including those dominated by the words “despised,” “broken,” and “grief,” for example – and in this time of sorrow, anger, and bitterness over world events, the more positive elements offered some much-needed brightness. Though performing just the “Christmas portions” sacrifices some beloved moments (such as from “All We Like Sheep,” “The Trumpet Shall Sound,” and more), it was a wise decision to keep the length manageable for an audience of all ages (particularly when there is no intermission). In a day of smartphones and short attention spans, it is worth winning audiences away from mere Internet listening towards a live experience that simply cannot be rivaled.

As the several hundred singers of Distinguished Concerts Singers International filed onto the stage one had to marvel at DCINY’s undertaking. The forces included choruses from Australia, Canada, Germany, the United Arab Emirates, the United Kingdom, and the United States, plus (as DCINY advertises) “individual singers from around the globe.” Combining such personnel could approach the challenge of herding cats, but given the well-prepared ensembles and the expert conducting of Jonathan Griffith the resulting performances were commendable. Only briefly in the imitative entries of the choral movement “For unto us a child is born” did the timing feel a tiny bit precarious.

It was also good to see the Distinguished Concerts Orchestra onstage again. The opening Overture found the orchestra favoring warmth and lyricism over stateliness. Though one is used to perhaps more crispness from them (especially in the lower strings), Maestro Griffith held the reins well.

The soloists were excellent, as usual. Tenor Chad Kranak, whom this listener had not heard before, stood out in “Comfort ye my people” for a sound that was full enough to soar over the orchestra but always warm and mellow. One especially admired how, even through the extended melismas of “Ev’ry valley shall be exalted” his pitch was always centered and true.

Bass-baritone Christopher Job delivered his formidable recitatives arias with the penetrating sound one recalls from prior performances, but some of his best lyricism came through in “But who may abide the day of his coming?” – and his lowest notes in “The people that walked in darkness” were especially impressive. In parts of these movements, one of Handel’s own more spare versions may have been easier for vocal soloists to cut through than this fuller Mozart instrumentation, but the singers managed to meet the demands.

Mezzo-soprano Holly Sorenson, whom one has admired in prior DCINY performances, brought her vibrant sound most notably to “Behold, a virgin shall conceive.” It is one of the untold challenges of oratorios that often a soloist will need to sit still onstage for half an hour or longer before uttering their first sounds, with any warm-ups they have done beforehand becoming a distant memory. Sometimes, because of this waiting, one can detect a hesitancy at the openings of such solos – but not here. Ms. Sorenson was strong, assured, and persuasive from the start. Similarly, there is a special place in Valhalla for any Messiah solo soprano, whose first recitative comes after sitting onstage for the better part of an hour. The soprano in this performance was Penelope Shumate who, when it was finally time to stand, delivered several outstanding performances, starting with “There were shepherds abiding in the field. ” Not surprisingly she gained in ease as she continued, and “He shall feed his flock” was both musically and physically expressive, settling into a joyous calm.

The irresistible movement for many, of course, is the famous Hallelujah Chorus, and it did not disappoint. The audience seemed to include some Messiah veterans, who immediately stood for it, honoring the tradition established by King George II in London in 1743. There is little that can approach the musical and spiritual jubilation of this moment, so one can only hope that each audience member carries that energy forward to share somehow with the very needful world.

As a critic wrote in 1742 at Messiah‘s Dublin premiere, “Words are wanting to express the exquisite delight that it afforded the crowded and admiring audience.” That crowd was 700 people – and this weekend, 281 years later, Carnegie Hall held the cheering of what was easily several times that number. My advice to audiences for next holiday season 2024: book your tickets to DCINY’s Messiah as soon as they are out – word spreads fast, and you might miss your chance!

Central Conservatory of Music Symphony Orchestra of Beijing, China

Lin Chen, conductor

Stern Auditorium, Carnegie Hall, New York, New York

November 24, 2023

On November 24, 2023, the Central Conservatory of Music (CCOM) Symphony Orchestra made their third appearance in New York (and second at Carnegie Hall) in a concert featuring eight new works by eight living Chinese composers. Seven (!) of these works were world premieres. Led by the able Lin Chen, it was both an educational and artistically stimulating experience for this listener.

All the works had some programmatic aspect (i.e., folklore, nature, poetry) as covered by the program notes in varying degrees of detail. These descriptions gave each work some context for the listener to grasp. One composer wrote his own program note, which I will discuss later. There were also brief biographies of the soloists and composers.

Before getting into the music, I would like to make note of a few things. The wearing of matching tie and tails by orchestra members made a very favorable impression. It’s a small thing, but the attention to detail and tradition was a sign to me of a serious and reverent attitude, which is not as prevalent today as it should be. The CCOM Symphony Orchestra is filled with excellent musicians and as an ensemble has the potential to be top-tier. Conductor Lin Chen is dynamic in her approach and committed to the music.

The Faint Gingko (US Premiere) by Ye Xiaogang opened the concert. It is the latest work in a series of pieces about subtropical plants. It opens with an extended flute solo that gives the impression of being improvisatory, and the orchestra joins in with music of an Impressionistic quality. It reminded one of Debussy, but not in a derivative way. It was my favorite work of the evening.

For the sake of not repeating myself, all the rest of the works on the program were world premieres.

Chang Ping’s The Realm of Future followed. He wrote the program note for his work, and in my opinion, he mischaracterized his own piece. I am not going to replicate his entire note, but when one reads the words “extremely beautiful… the ultimate interpretation of charm … I embrace it at all costs,” it is not unreasonable to expect something ethereal, not the devastation of a post-apocalyptic scene. If Chang Ping had stated in his notes that the “future” is fraught with turbulence and the terrors of uncertainty, I would have enjoyed the power and unbridled “storm,” but as it was, I was left mystified. What I heard bore little resemblance to the written notes, and this adversely affected both my enjoyment and opinion of this work. Jiajing Wang was the violin soloist, navigating cadenza-like passages with a romantic flair that would have one think that Tchaikovsky peeked in for a moment.

Eternal River – for Guzheng, Harp, and Orchestra by Jia Guoping was next. Chang Su (Guzheng) and Guan Wang (Harp) were the soloists. This is a highly dramatic work, taking the idea of the various states of a river as inspiration – it can be a calm trickle, but it can also rage with anger. Both soloists were engaging, but Chang Su in particular was bold and assertive in her playing. It was a ten-minute journey that was well worth the trip.

The last work on the first half was Guo Wenjing’s Poem by Haizi: The Short Poem for March for Soprano and Orchestra. Yuanming Song was the soprano soloist. The opening section is strongly reminiscent of Górecki’s Third Symphony in both the orchestra and solo soprano before changing direction with an angry outburst, eventually giving way to a lively dance-like motif (which reminded one of Copland’s Rodeo). The strings swell and pull back, all leading to an enigmatic ending. Yuanmong Song’s strong, clear voice filled the hall and one felt the poignancy of Haizi’s poetry without having to know or understand the words.

After Intermission, the first movement from Cang Shan Xu by Qin Wenchen opened the second half. The angular writing and liberal use of dissonance suggests the cragginess of the Chang Shan Mountain. Linfeng Fan, the bamboo flute soloist, was a dynamo. From extended techniques to quicksilver passagework, she made short work of all technical demands (and there were many!) with apparent ease.

Tang Jianping’s The Stone in Five Colors followed. The mythology here is rather involved, but basically is the story of the goddess Nüwa completing epic tasks that make Hercules’s Labors look like walking the dog and watering the plants. Wikipedia has a good article about Nüwa. This work was the most successful in conveying its source material. It was jam-packed with action, ultra-heroic themes, percussion explosions, brutal primitiveness that was relentless, and the attitude of “no quarter given or asked for.” It was thrilling!

Symphonic Poem Finché for Mezzo-Soprano and Orchestra by Hao Weiya was next. Lin Shi was the mezzo-soprano soloist. She showed a commanding stage presence and a voice to match in what was a lovely performance.

At this point, I was curious as to how much collaboration took place among the composers. The concept of sharing ideas and offering feedback with colleagues is not unusual, but many of the works had particular similarities, such as the thunderous use of percussion. That the length of each work was ten to twelve minutes also seemed curious. Perhaps it was all just a coincidence – possibly at some later date I will have the pleasure of hearing more diverse works by these composers.

Zhang Shuai’s East West III: Tao for All was the final work. Easily the most accessible work of the evening, it has a “soundtrack” sound that joins the sounds of East and West in a way that makes them equal partners. It was played with the right amount of panache, in what was a fine end to the evening.

All the soloists, and several of the composers who were in attendance, joined Lin Chen on stage for a bow. The large audience, which had been mostly restrained in giving polite applause, came to life and gave all an extended and enthusiastic standing ovation. Congratulations to all!

Distinguished Concerts Singers International; Distinguished Concerts Orchestra 

Jonathan Griffith and Nancy Menk, conductors

Ola Gjeilo, composer-in-residence and piano

Diana McVey, soprano; Emily Hughes, mezzo-soprano

Stern Auditorium at Carnegie Hall, New York, New York

November 13, 2023

Distinguished Concerts International New York (DCINY) kicked off its 2023-2024 season with a concert entitled Twilight Mass, featuring the world premiere of Norwegian composer Ola Gjeilo’s work of the same name. Vivaldi’s much-loved Gloria in a version using only treble voices was the other work on the program.  The Distinguished Concerts Singers International brought performers from California, Indiana, Massachusetts, New Mexico, New York, North Carolina, Oregon, Pennsylvania, Virginia, Canada, France, Germany, Poland, and individual singers around the globe – a sign that perhaps the nightmare that began in 2020 is finally over once and for all. 

As a side note, this reviewer is glad to see the return of the Distinguished Concerts Orchestra to the stage.  Seeing concertmaster Jorge Ávila make his way to the stage was like seeing an old friend after a long absence. 

Nancy Menk took the podium to conduct Antonio Vivaldi’s Gloria. Although this work is usually performed with the standard SATB (soprano, alto, tenor, bass) setting, tonight’s performance was for treble voices only (SSAA). Ms. Menk has stated that this is possibly Vivaldi’s original version – but I will leave that question to the historians and musicologists. 

Ms. Menk is a DCINY veteran – this is her fifth appearance, and the third time this reviewer has seen her work. As I have written in the past, Ms. Menk is an accomplished choral conductor who is confident in her approach, and she “runs a tight ship.” I had every reason to believe these qualities would be present this evening, and I was not disappointed. Let’s get the very few quibbles out of the way. The orchestral opening in the Gloria in excelsis Deo was a bit too muted for my liking, so the voices completely dominated them. Thankfully adjustments were made, and this was not a recurring issue. Also, the double fugue in the Cum Sancto Spiritu was not entirely crisp and distinct. Forgive me if this seems overly critical – after all, some indistinctness is not a huge surprise when well over one hundred voices are in play.

Now for the positive side of things, the ensemble and diction were excellent throughout. The preparation of the choirs prior to this evening was readily apparent and the direction of the skillful Ms. Menk was the “icing on the cake,” in what was a fine performance. The Domine Fili unigenite had a joyful “bounce” in what was my favorite section for the chorus. Let’s not forget the soloists, soprano Diana McVey and mezzo-soprano Emily Hughes. Their duet in Laudamus Te was exquisite. As for the solo work by Ms. McVey, the Domine Deus, Rex coelestis was her highlight. The highlight for Ms. Hughes was Qui sedes ad dexteram Patris. Both have strong voices that easily reach throughout the hall without stridency or any loss of musical quality. Special mention must be made to oboist Ryan Walsh, for his solo in the Domine Deus, Rex coelestis movement. 

While the stage was being set for the second act, composer Ola Gjeilo joined Jonathan Griffith for a conversation about his work Twilight Mass. This is also Mr. Gjeilo’s fifth appearance with DCINY. The Twilight Mass is a companion work to his 2008 Sunrise Mass. It is scored for string orchestra, piano (Mr. Gjeilo was the pianist tonight), chorus, and soprano soloist. Mr. Gjeilo demonstrated some motifs from the Sanctus movement and called his work a Missa Brevis because of the omission of the Credo. The most interesting takeaway was Mr. Gjeilo’s mention of streaming and Spotify, the idea that listeners prefer smaller, short sections that they can work into playlists, etc. He said that this was part of why the Twilight Mass is nine short sections (his previous Sunrise Mass having been four longer sections). I leave it to the reader as to whether this is an astute adjustment to the demands of today’s listeners or a sad commentary on those same listeners. 

After the talk, Mr. Gjeilo readied himself at the piano, and Maestro Griffith took the podium. What happened next is still reverberating in my mind in a way that very few works have. Perhaps it is the times we are living in, or the general feeling of anger and despair that is suffocating, but for half an hour, beauty and hope prevailed. Make no mistake, Mr. Gjeilo’s music is not what anyone would describe as revolutionary, as his language is tonal to the core, and there is very little overt complexity, but in this ostensibly simplistic approach he makes magic happen. It’s not manipulative, cloying, or saccharine, just sincere. His arrow hit the musical bullseye.

From the first notes of the Kyrie, I knew something special was happening. I wrote one word in my notes about this movement: Beautiful! Anything else would be superfluous. As I could easily go on and on, I’m going to focus on some favorite moments/movements. The vibrant syncopation in the Domine Deus was rendered by the chorus with ebullience, or if you prefer, they rocked the house! The Sanctus reminded me of Mr. Gjeilo’s earlier work, Dark Night of the Soul – the driving ostinato, the “pull back,” and the return to a driving ostinato.  The Kyrie motif also reappears in the Sanctus. It was a close second place to the Kyrie as my favorite movement of the work. 

Diana McVey was back as the soprano soloist, and her solo in the Laudamus te was striking; it was in the Domine Deus, however, that her voice truly soared to the stratosphere. It was heavenly. 

Time to take a moment to recognize the outstanding chorus and orchestra, led by Maestro Griffith with his customary mastery. When the final notes of the Agnus Dei faded away, the large audience gave Mr. Gjeilo and the performers a very well-deserved loud and extended standing ovation. As to streaming platforms and such, I do hope Twilight Mass is made available in short order! 

Sihao He, Luiz Fernando Venturelli, Sydney Lee, and Haddon Kay, cellists

Merkin Hall, The Kaufmann Center, New York, NY

October 20, 2023

Some reviews are a joy to write, and this is one of them. Some ensembles “have it all” and the Galvin Cello Quartet is one of those, based on their New York Debut on October 20 at Merkin Hall. Despite the seeming sameness of four cellists as an ensemble, these four highly individual musicians, Sihao He, Haddon Kay, Luiz Fernando Venturelli, and Sydney Lee (the only female), showed what a surprising range of sound and repertoire is possible for this combination, especially when each member is also an experienced soloist boasting an impressive array of prizes and distinctions, as is the case here. Their vibrancy is enriched by their diverse cultural backgrounds (China, Brazil, South Korea, and the United States), and at the same time, they exude the warmth of their common bond as students of Hans Jørgen Jensen at the Bienen School of Music, Northwestern University. In fact, their name “Galvin” is from the Mary B. Galvin Recital Hall at that school.

Presented as part of a series called “Musicians on the Rise” by the Kaufman Center and Concert Artists Guild, whose competition they won in 2022, the Galvin Quartet members are most definitely on the rise, though one senses that if they stayed exactly where there are right now, they would be just fine with that – such is their infectious positive energy. Their mission to share the love of music is palpable and irresistible, a quality the classical music world needs sorely. Though this reviewer has come away from the finest recitals thinking, “I wish there were a larger audience to hear them,” the Galvin Quartet recital has gone a step further leaving one thinking, “They’re going to create that larger audience.” Attractive, personable, and passionate, they are a manager’s dream.

The evening opened with a short video about the quartet, not something true music lovers expect or need, but perhaps a sign of things to come in this social media world. The quartet was shown preparing for a recording session, posing for photos, making dinner together, and generally enjoying their obvious camaraderie. (For full disclosure, I was unable to attend this recital in person, so was given unedited footage of the entire event).

Directly after that video, the quartet launched into the final Presto of Vivaldi’s “Summer” from The Four Seasons. It was a fresh, riveting arrangement in which one never missed the original instrumentation. The cellists exchanged furioso passages with crisp precision and an edge-of-the-seat excitement. Though the Vivaldi is quite familiar, it is certainly not familiar in this cello quartet arrangement, as Sihao He noted. Joking about the rarity and quirks of cello quartets (including the unusual need for eight flight tickets to travel), Mr. He was determined to put the audience at ease, saying “Be comfortable and please don’t behave” – and “Let’s have some fun tonight.” In explaining why the group plays mostly without music stands (unusual for a quartet of strings), he stated that the group likes for there to be no barriers between them and the audience, opting for closeness, a preference we could already sense.

If all of this “fun” had one wondering whether these players might be all levity with little substance, the next work set that record straight. Wagner’s Feierliches Stück (ending with strains of the famous Wedding March) was given an intensely stirring performance. Each cellist played with refined lyricism, and the group blended magnificently.

Rotating roles and microphones, Sydney Lee spoke next, to introduce Rossini’s piece Une Larme (“A Tear”), originally for cello and piano, but heard here in an arrangement that divvied up the melodies. She asked Haddon Kay to play the descending “tear” motif so the audience could look out for it – a helpful suggestion that bodes well for the group’s work in schools and outreach. Despite this sad motif, the piece built to quite a lather, with bouncing bows and cadenzas abounding in pyrotechnics.

Mr. Venturelli, Ms. Lee, and Mr. He shared in the announcement of the next work, the world premiere of a piece called Cadence by Zhou Tian. Commissioned in partnership with Concert Artists Guild, it represents part of the quartet’s effort to expand the repertoire for this particular instrumentation while exploring diverse cultural backgrounds that connect with theirs. Exciting and colorful, it brought out the oneness of sound that this quartet can achieve, whether playing in harmony or in rapid alternation, while also exploring a wide range of sonorities. From lyrical moments to more dazzling perpetual motion sections, the piece and the performers were captivating.

Haddon Kay introduced the next work, Leyendas: An Andean Walkabout, by Gabriela Lena Frank. He spoke about cultural connections shared with the composer’s heritage (Chinese, American, and South American) and gave eloquent descriptions of each of its six movements, Toyos, Tarqueda, Hymno de Zampoñas, Chasqui, Canto de Velorio, and Coqueteos. All that he described sprang to life in the group’s playing – the evocations of panpipes, “smoky” landscapes, guitars, and more.

Mr. Venturelli then announced the ensemble’s arrangement of Three Preludes by Gershwin. We’ve all heard countless arrangements of these gems, and for good reason. This one, very free in the playing and in the arrangement itself, can certainly hold its head up among the rest. The program was capped off with Piazzolla’s La Muerte Del Angel, given a driving energy that galvanized (or shall we say “Galvin-ized”) the audience into a rousing standing ovation. Some very gracious thanks from Ms. Lee to all those involved in the concert followed, capped off with an encore of David Popper’s Elfentanz, at near record-breaking speed.

Congratulations go out to all involved in this quartet’s exciting debut, not least of all to Concert Artists Guild for choosing them!

Regina Shenderovich, piano

The National Opera Center – OPERA America, New York, NY

November 3, 2023

In one of those miracles to which New Yorkers are privy if they pay attention, gifted Russian-American pianist Regina Shenderovich came to the National Opera Center this Friday to play the complete Book II of J. S. Bach’s Well-Tempered Clavier – in other words, the last 24 of the Bach 48 Preludes and Fugues. It was extraordinary. This reviewer had heard Ms. Shenderovich last in 2018 in a live performance of Bach’s Art of the Fugue, another unusual undertaking (reviewed here: Regina Shenderovich), and it was a pleasure to be present for this continued traversal of the great master’s work. 

For those wishing to know the music of Johann Sebastian Bach, arguably the greatest composer who ever lived, one could hardly do better than Books I and II of his Well-Tempered Clavier (48 Preludes and Fugues, two in each key, major and minor). It is a feast for the ears, mind, and heart. Complete sets of recordings have been made by some of the greatest musicians (including pianists Gould, Richter, Tureck, Gulda, Demus, Schiff, Nikolayeva, Hewitt, and Barenboim, and harpsichordists Leonhardt, Kirkpatrick, Landowska, and Gilbert, for a start), but there is perennially room for more. Despite the greatness of these works, not many pianists (or harpsichordists) take on even a single complete book of them in live concert. Undoubtedly this rarity is largely because of the demands on the performer for what approaches a 130-minute marathon (not including intermission), but it also may be out of concern for today’s audiences. Even the staunchest concertgoers (let alone the hyper-stimulated Auto-Tune crowd) may prefer to savor a couple of Preludes and Fugues at a time from a favorite recording at home, rather than sitting bolt upright in a concert hall through hours of cerebrally taxing music, no matter how magnificent. That said, it is an unforgettable experience to witness the performance of an entire volume in an evening, and Ms. Shenderovich gave us that rare opportunity to hear the set played exceptionally well. 

Technically, she displayed superb control. There was hardly a finger slip in the entire evening, and those that occurred were negligible, like the rare absent tone tending to coincide with a rough page turn. (Ideally, if one is performing these with a score, today’s technology could make that page-turning aspect seamless.)

In matters of tempo and dynamics, Ms. Shenderovich showed an uncanny sense of what works best for nearly every piece and was able to highlight each individual voice throughout, through the most challenging stretti and dense counterpoint. For this listener, fortunate enough to have a score on hand, everything on the page was matched aurally with a lucidity that brought back inspirational graduate seminars in Bach. 

From the very first notes of the opening Prelude and Fugue in C Major (No. 1), we knew we were in good hands. From the regal feeling in the Prelude to the crisp mordents in the Fugue, all felt just right. Repeats were never “rubber-stamped” but were refreshed, in the C-minor Prelude (No. 2) through varied voicing, in the heraldic D-major Prelude (No. 5) through phrasing, and in the D-sharp minor Prelude (No. 8) through altered articulation, including some skillful overholding to bring out a previously underplayed alto line. 

Other particularly good articulations were in the D-minor Fugue (No. 6, with a delightful lift before subsequent tied notes) and the G-minor Prelude (No. 15) with its nearly double-dotted crispness à la French Overture and masterfully fleet four-voice fugue to follow. The D-sharp minor Fugue (No. 8) stood out for the dynamic shaping of its subject, which can easily sound obnoxious if played as equal hammer blows (as sometimes happens). The time taken at the end of this one also felt appropriate. 

There seemed no formula for ritardandi (or anything else) in this set, with a number of pieces ending somewhat abruptly and others winding down gently, but clearly much thought went into each one. (Occasionally this listener wanted more winding down.)

In terms of flow, Ms. Shenderovich showed remarkable ability overall. In the Prelude in E Major (No. 9), she managed to mark phrases with artful breathing, while keeping a sense of pulse, a virtue not as common as one might hope. This pulse felt slightly less regular in the G-major Prelude (No. 15, in which the left hand seemed a tad slower on entry than the right hand), and also at times in the B-major Fugue (No. 23), but in general, it felt just right. One marveled in the F-sharp minor (No. 14) which managed to be slow enough to let us assimilate all the harmonic implications but never so slow that it dragged – perfect. 

The C-sharp major Prelude (No. 3) was special for its transparency under its beautifully held top notes, and its staccatissimo Fugue subject was a joy to follow. One was reminded that when Bach compiled the first book of the Well-Tempered Clavier in 1722 (with the second to be compiled in 1742) he wrote that the set was “for the profit and use of musical youth desirous of learning, and especially for the pastime of those already skilled in this study.” Those who perform these pieces are in a sense teachers, who must strike the balance between revealing Bach’s imagination and exercising their own. Ms. Shenderovich proved herself to be just such a teacher. 

In terms of emotional projection, favorites were the Preludes in F major (No. 11), which felt peacefully improvisatory, the F-sharp major (No. 13), given a wonderfully light touch, and the freely expressive F-sharp minor (No. 14). 

Sections that reflected less distinction were in the C-sharp minor pair (No. 4) and E-major Fugue (No. 9), which seemed just a bit less engaging. Beyond those, I had interpretive reservations about the E-flat Prelude and Fugue (No. 7). Though the Prelude had a gracious feeling about it, there could have been more sensitivity at times (such as at its meaningful return to the opening), and its corresponding Fugue seemed to ask for more tenderness as well. This Fugue was a favorite of Mozart’s, one guesses for its lyricism – so much so that he chose to arrange it for string quartet. Once one has heard that, one can hardly help feeling inclined towards a less crisp, less detached approach to its inherent lyricism. There also might have been more tender expansiveness in the G-sharp minor Fugue (No. 18 – a double fugue), where one sensed a harder edge and the drive to move things along, as well as in the F-minor Prelude and Fugue (No. 12) which closed the first half; any reservations, however, should be taken in light of the enormous admiration that this undertaking inspired. Some of these pieces are massively complex – such as the F sharp-minor (No. 14), with its triple fugue. Such feats were handled with awe-inspiring ease. 

Ms. Shenderovich has much to say in these works, and people should have been lined up for a block to hear her play them at this free concert. The small audience was certainly no reflection on her, but merely a shame for those absent. Her late grandmother, Olga Tsfasman, to whom the concert was dedicated, would surely have been proud. 

I strongly recommend that Ms. Shenderovich record all of these, one by one, at her leisure – and with Book I – to reach an ever wider audience.

Junwen Liang, piano

Saint Thomas Church, New York, NY

October 22, 2023

This Sunday afternoon at Saint Thomas Church, this reviewer had the pleasure to hear, as part of their Sunday Recital Series, young pianist Junwen Liang. It was a brief recital, around forty-five minutes, but it communicated a lot in a very short time and had enough substance and variety – technically, emotionally, and stylistically – to confirm that this is an extremely gifted and promising young artist.

Mr. Liang opened with Mozart’s Sonata in C Major, K. 330, one of this reviewer’s favorites. It is not always easy to start with Mozart, especially in a highly reverberant church, so when one opens by playing Mozart as beautifully as what we heard, it speaks volumes. Mr. Liang’s playing had clarity, technical polish, and thoughtful attention to phrasing and articulation. It is easy to rush in one’s opening work but Mr. Liang’s approach was refreshingly calm and unhurried. There was one point in the last movement where there may have been a bit too much of a dramatic pause (before the return of the main theme), but all in all, with so much rushing in performances today such savoring is welcome.

This reviewer’s belief, after decades of playing and hearing concerts, is that when the music truly comes first, nerves are much more easily mastered. Mr. Liang puts the music first. Part of how he plunged so immediately into the music and brought it to life so well seemed to be related to his grasp of the operatic elements that lay within it, and these lie within all of Mozart’s Sonatas, in this listener’s opinion. The drama must be so completely engrossing that there is no room to think of oneself or any other distraction. One could hear in Mr. Liang’s interpretation the questions, answers, dialogues, and characters of an opera, all fitting together with beautiful logic. Phrases were allowed to breathe where they needed to – another vocal element – and, as with speech and song, there was always shape and inflection. Critics occasionally will mistake such expressive playing for “Romanticizing” (and this reviewer’s own concerts have received that allegation), but there is really nothing specifically Romantic about shaping phrases and projecting drama, especially when it all adheres so faithfully to the beat, as it did here. It was over in a flash (to the point where there was some regret that not all repeats were taken).

It is tempting to put some of this Mozartean finesse at the doorstep of Mr. Liang’s current teacher, the masterful Richard Goode, the only teacher listed in his printed bio; seeing his slew of degrees, however, this reviewer was curious to learn more and discovered that Mr. Liang has had a wide array of teachers, including also the extraordinary Edward Auer who has been reviewed by New York Concert Review as well. Beyond this, Mr. Liang clearly has his own natural artistry.

It must have been some relief when after Mozart the program moved to Debussy’s Images, Book II. As beautiful as the Steinway is in this church, its big sound along with the reverberant acoustics must have required extreme effort to tame for the Mozart. The reverberation if anything seemed to enhance the musical textures of Debussy. Cloches à travers les feuilles was beautiful and full of shimmering colors. At one point, this listener thought it could have been even more magical, and that was where the piece seems to “open up” (where the meter and key change), and one becomes aware not so much of bells and leaves but of the human spirit’s reaction to them. One wants more reveling here. All in all, though, this was an admirable performance. Et la Lune descend sur le temple qui fut was similarly successful – evocative and ponderous. Occasionally it seemed there might have been still more patience in holding long notes fully, but that can relate to one’s pulse and conception. Poissons d’or was full of silky pianism and sparkle. This listener only wanted a bit more of a sense of play in some parts. Where marked capricieux et souple, for example, Debussy so incredibly evokes the swish and splash of a tail in the water – some goldfish have personality! Anyway, with time and repeat performances, this sense of play will probably increase – and such matters are quite personal.

The program hit its high point with Liszt’s Hungarian Rhapsody No. 12. Mr. Liang seems simply made for this work, and it could become a “signature” piece. He knew just where to get the right declamatory feeling at the opening and elsewhere, and he moved on to brilliant fingerwork with not so much as a smudge or flub anywhere. Where there are cimbalom effects, he achieved dazzling speed with perfect clarity, and where there are quasi campanelle effects he created sonic magic. What was striking too was that there was never the showboating one sometimes finds with this repertoire, but exclusive focus on the myriad sounds. Bravo! As a postscript, speaking of not showboating, there actually could have been a bit more time in the Adagio breather a few bars before the close – mere mortals take advantage of it as a respite after herculean effort, so it feels somehow raced if not a bit broadened. Wow, if these are the biggest criticisms one can produce, Mr. Liang is in good shape.

The last work on the program was a delightful jazzy discovery, the Rondo for Piano (2001) by Catherine Likhuta (b.1981), serving almost a built-in encore. Based on an ostinato vaguely reminiscent of the Vince Guaraldi “Peanuts” theme – though more brilliant – it was lots of fun.

 Ian Hobson, piano

The Tenri Cultural Institute, New York, NY

October 20, 2023

It is always a privilege to hear the great pianist Ian Hobson, whose repertoire in concerts and discographies could be that of ten pianists, and his complete Schumann cycle at the Tenri Institute has only reinforced one’s admiration. Avoiding mere chronological box-checking, his traversal was organized into themed programs, lending focus and insight to aspects of Schumann’s output. Mr. Hobson’s April program, for example, was called “Love and Nature” (Humoreske, Op. 20, Nachtstücke, Op. 23, and the Drei Romanzen, Op. 28 – to see that review, click here: Love and Nature), and his September program just three weeks ago was called “Variations” (reviewed by Jeffrey Williams here: Variations). This Friday, October 20th, we saw the continuation of the series with a concert entitled “Marches and Etudes” and there were revelatory moments.

This week’s “Marches and Etudes” program consisted of Schumann’s Vier Märsche, Op. 76, Six Etudes after Paganini, Op. 3, Six Concert Etudes after Paganini, Op. 10, and the Toccata Op. 7. Incidentally, when one hears of a Schumann program with etudes, the Etudes Symphoniques, Op. 13 probably will spring to mind, but those had already been included in September under the heading of “Variations” where they fit as well. So, except for the very famous Toccata and the more mature Op. 76 that opened the program, this program was left with some of the least performed works of Schumann’s output, twelve etudes based on Paganini Caprices, with half of them arguably not intended for performance. It takes a brave pianist to take on such a program, but who better than Ian Hobson?

Mr. Hobson strolled out calmly to greet his ample audience at Tenri and the tone felt immediately casual, like that of a university seminar. One could easily forget the huge renown that has surrounded him ever since his young prizewinning days. One could also forget the mammoth task ahead.

He described the opening work, the Vier Märsche, Op. 76, as coming after roughly a decade of little solo piano writing for Schumann (the 1840s being filled with songs, chamber music, and orchestral works). Dating from 1849, the Op. 76 was Schumann’s response to the May Uprising of Dresden that year. As Mr. Hobson lit into the very first Märsche, one could feel the stirrings of that uprising as well as the exuberance of Schumann’s return to piano writing in a “white heat of passion” (Schumann’s own words). The boldness and heroism of Florestan were present, along with a remarkable elegance in this pianist’s hands. The second Märsch in G minor followed with power and urgency, as well as sensitivity in its gentle E-flat middle section.

The third Märsche, subtitled Lager-Scene (“Camp Scene”) possesses many of Schumann’s mercurial qualities in harmony and phrasing, and it could easily give way to self-indulgence, but the cohesion here was solid. The playing reflected what one might call an orchestral overview – and that is not surprising, given Mr. Hobson’s very busy second career as a conductor. The fourth Märsch closed the set with a grandeur that underscored its noticeable references to La Marseillaise.

Moving on to the Six Etudes after Paganini, Op. 3 (1832), this listener felt ambivalent at first. As the program notes by Richard Dyer state, Schumann “evidently intended Op. 3 for study and educational purposes only.” They could conveniently have been excised from the cycle on that basis. Furthermore, technically, we want perfection from such pianistic hurdling, though there is little that any performer in a live concert can do to match the several flawless renditions available on recordings, most likely from studios with unlimited editing capacity. What’s more, musically, they are not truly representative of Schumann, for as the composer writes, “I copied the original more or less note for note, perhaps to its disadvantage, only expanding its harmonic scope.” That said, Mr. Hobson had them well in hand, and completeness won the day. Did one occasionally wish all had not been straitjacketed into the cycle plan, and that we could hear only some artfully chosen favorites of the pianist to let his gifts shine at their best? Yes.

Highlights of Op. 3 included the first two etudes with well-known Liszt counterparts. In the first by Schumann, we heard the opening A minor scales and arpeggios of Paganini’s A minor Caprice (No. 5) actually proceeding to the rest of that same Paganini Caprice; oddly, this fidelity was a jolt, because pianists are used to the Liszt-Paganini Etude, No. 1 (composed a good six years later) with the very same opening (transposed to G minor) introducing a tacked-on version of Paganini’s Caprice, No. 6. This “un-hearing” of Liszt took us back in time, bringing us closer to Schumann’s world shortly after hearing Paganini himself in concert.

A less dramatic surprise was felt hearing Op. 3’s second Etude (after Paganini’s Caprice No. 9 – La Chasse, or “The Hunt”), after being accustomed to Liszt’s Paganini Etude No. 5 based on the same Caprice. Here, it was a special joy to hear Schumann’s version, with help from Mr. Hobson’s gentle and graceful interpretation. Equally lyrical was the third (Andante), which Mr. Hobson played with a singing tone and inevitability of phrasing. The fourth was played with all the rhythmic mischief it invites, and the fifth was a romp. The sixth and final Etude of Op. 3 was played with stormy brilliance, reminding one of the Op. 13, then yet to be written. All in all, Mr. Hobson made a case for these neglected pieces.

The Etudes, Op. 10 (1833) followed intermission. One was starting to wonder how anyone could undertake this program, but there were no signs of flagging. Using music for much of it may have removed the stress on one’s memory, but it is nevertheless unwieldy music to tackle. The first of Op. 10 was artfully shaped, such that one almost forgot about its technical difficulties. The second brought to mind again the contrast with Liszt’s eerie G-minor tremolos (from Paganini’s Caprice No. 6), here replaced partly with repeated chords over an inspired, independent left-hand part. Surprisingly, just a year after his Op. 3, Schumann was growing in some ways freer with Paganini than Liszt would be. There is little question about which composer’s Paganini Etudes were  – and are – more popular, but Mr. Hobson made it apparent that even transcribing somewhat laborious exercises, Schumann was a poet.

Mr. Hobson proceeded to No. 3 making it sound easy overall. Despite rapid alternation of octaves and trills – requiring lumberjack and ballet dancer – Mr. Hobson was up to it all. Aside from tiny glitches here and there, it was an epic undertaking, amazingly handled – all “chased down” with Schumann’s diabolically difficult Toccata Op. 7 (1829-32). Few pianists can play the latter well, but it says a lot that its heroic themes echoed in this listener’s mind long after the concert.

It takes a special kind of heroism to rummage through neglected corners of a composer’s output. First, the pianist must devote increased effort to “selling” or beautifying what has been neglected (sometimes for good reason). After that, such a performer is very seldom lauded or thanked as champions of “new music” are. Why? Well, because it is Schumann, and we all know Schumann – or do we? Surely Ian Hobson is content to explore without looking for accolades, but let me at least offer mine, with gratitude.

Australian Haydn Ensemble

Skye McIntosh, artistic director

Weill Hall at Carnegie Hall, New York, NY

October 16, 2023

On the evening of October 16, 2023, the Australian Haydn Ensemble (AHE) took an enthusiastic audience on a bit of time travel where Carnegie’s Weill Hall was transformed into an 18^th century salon (well, an 18^th century salon with electricity!) for a program of symphonies by Johann Christian Bach, Haydn (Joseph), and Mozart. 

Formed in 2012, the eighteen-member Australian Haydn Ensemble is a leader in what they call historically informed performances, specializing in late Baroque and early Classical repertoire using period instruments. The oboe, bassoon, flute and horn (valveless) sound substantially different from their modern counterparts. Love them or hate them, they do give one the authentic “sound” of the times when these works were composed and first played. 

Violinist Skye McIntosh led the conductorless ensemble, whose members played standing. I suspect this was to honor the performing style of those times, even though there is some dispute as to whether this was widespread practice. Ms. McIntosh was also a charming host, speaking with the audience to give some history about the works offered.  I would like to break with my usual convention and name all the members of this fine ensemble: Skye McIntosh, Matthew Greco, Anna McMichael, Annie Gard, Alice Richards, Ella Bennetts, Emma Williams, violins; Karina Schmitz, Kristen Linfante, violas; Daniel Yeadon, Eva Lymenstull, cellos; Pippa Macmillan, double bass; Melissa Farrow, flute; Joel Raymond, Kirsten Barry, oboes; Simon Rickard, bassoon; Michael Dixon, Dorée Dixon, horns. 

Johann Christian Bach, the “London Bach,” was highly regarded during his relatively short life, but time has not been so kind to him. His current reputation has relegated him to almost an afterthought, only meriting the faintest praise that is tantamount to “Well, he tried.” One should consider that Mozart thought highly of him (one can hear shadows of J.C. in some of his works), and that alone should give one pause to reconsider his worth. The Symphony in G minor, Op. 6, No. 6 is an impressive work, in which J.C. goes his own way in a manner we had not heard from his famous father. 

The AHE tore into the stormy first movement with a roiling intensity that caught my attention right away – this was passionate, emotionally powerful and impactful playing. The second movement had an austere quality played with simple sincerity, and the finale was dispatched with élan, complete with a surprise quiet ending that could have been written by Haydn. It was an impressive start to the evening. 

Written in 1761, Symphony No. 6 in D major (Le Matin), Symphony No. 7 in C major (Le midi), and Symphony No. 8 in G major (Le Soir), were Haydn’s fulfillment of Prince Esterházy’s suggested theme for composition: three times of day, morning, noon, and evening – hence the nicknames. These works could just as easily be classified as concerti grossi as symphonies. No. 7 was not included in tonight’s program.

Haydn had just been hired by Prince Esterházy and probably was eager to impress his new patron. The Prince’s orchestra counted some brilliant musicians, which gave Haydn the opportunity to write dazzling solo passages to show off both their virtuosity as performers and his own as a composer. It probably enhanced his working relationship with the musicians, as it was often customary for a player to be rewarded with extra pay for pleasing the Prince with brilliant playing – an early example of “paying it forward.”  These symphonies are chock full of such solos – one suspects many an extra coin filled the pockets of those musicians.  On a side note, Ms. McIntosh reminded the audience that Prince Esterházy’s orchestra also had eighteen members.

One could feel the warmth of the rising sun in the introduction before kicking into high gear.  Flute, oboe, and horn all had featured solos, with special kudos to flutist Melissa Farrow for her virtuosity. One must also give double bassist Pippa Macmillan special praise for her nimble solo work in the Trio. Ms. McIntosh and cellist Daniel Yeadon reveled in soloistic moments.  All in all, it was quite the “morning,” which could take the place of coffee to get the day going! 

Le Soir is a night with some storminess (the finale Presto, sometimes subtitled La tempesta). The opening movement quotes Gluck  – Je n’aimais pas le tabac beaucoup (I didn’t like tobacco much) – from Le diable à quatre, and once again, there were virtuosic solos (violins, cello) throughout. The finale sizzled with a tempestuous energy that was thrilling. It was notable how well these players meshed together – with such small forces one can’t “hide” behind a large section, so any gaffes are easily heard. One would have been hard pressed to find any significant issues with ensemble. 

Mozart’s Symphony No. 29 in A major, K. 201, written when the composer was eighteen years old, opened the second half. There are some who might suggest that this work needs the full forces of a larger orchestra to accentuate its grandeur. I believe that is incorrect, and the AHE validated my opinion. These eighteen musicians brought more than enough passion, power, and brilliance to their sparkling performance. It was the highlight of the evening for this listener. 

After the last notes were played the audience was returned to the 21^st century and rewarded this fine ensemble with an extended standing ovation.  For all lovers of period instruments and the music of this epoch played by superior musicians, the Australian Haydn Ensemble is not to be missed. 

Music of Elliott Carter, Louis Karchin, and Tyson David

Da Capo Chamber Players: Curtis Macomber, violin; 

Chris Gross, cello: Marianne Gythfeldt clarinet   Steven Beck piano

Guest artists: Catherine Boyack, flute (Patricia Spencer is on leave 2023-24); 

John Ferrari, percussion; James Baker, conductor

The Tenri Cultural Institute, New York, NY

October 15, 2023

In a Tenri Cultural Institute concert billed as celebrating “innovation by three generations of American composers,” the Da Capo Chamber Players continued what they have done exceptionally well for decades: the thoughtful curation and expert performance of new music. Here they featured just one composer from each of the three generations, and the three were Elliott Carter (1908-2012), Louis Karchin (b. 1951), and Tyson Davis (b. 2000). 

The first half of the concert offered a sampling of all three composers, starting with Between Light and Shadow by Tyson Davis, now in his first year of the M.M. program at the Juilliard School (but who was just seventeen when the piece was written in 2018). Between Light and Shadow was scored for Pierrot ensemble (exactly what the Da Capo nucleus is) plus percussion – handled expertly here by John Ferrari. The work was inspired by The Twilight Zone television series and consists of four movements named from individual episodes (Third from the Sun, Nightmare at 20,000 Feet, Mirror Image, and The Arrival). The absence of pretense in basing a substantial work on a television program “had me at hello” as the saying goes, but it was the skillful and evocative writing that sealed the deal. The music was powerful, direct, and individual. Mr. Davis is no mere “star of the moment” (despite being booked with commissions through 2025) but is a genuine voice of great promise in the composition world. As Mr. Davis mentioned later in the panel discussion, he is not a synesthete, but he feels strong links between the visual and tonal worlds; in retrospect, it may have been this quality, plus his technique for projecting it, that gave this work such immediate appeal. 

In strong contrast came the program’s second work, Con leggerezza pensosa (1990), by Elliott Carter, who combined a long and productive composing life with the teaching of several generations of composers at Juilliard and elsewhere. 

Con leggerezza pensosa was commissioned by Dr. Rafaelle Pozzi in homage to the Italian author Italo Calvino, and its title suggests Calvino’s notion of “thoughtful lightness” as distinct from the “lightness of frivolity” (“In fact,” Calvino continues, “thoughtful lightness can make frivolity seem dull and heavy.”)  With thoughts of this elusive distinction never far, the work was given an engrossing performance by Marianne Gythfeldt (clarinet), Curtis Macomber (violin), and Chris Gross (cello) – with the author’s case resting most pithily in the final disappearing clarinet gesture, with faint pizzicati.

The third and last piece of the half was a work composed for the Da Capo Chamber Players, Incantations and Dances (2023) by Louis Karchin, currently a Professor of Music at New York University, among his many distinctions. It was a joy, after the cryptic complexity of the Carter piece, to hear a work that, for all its brilliance and sophistication, was immediately accessible, with clearly discernible dance references (the characteristics of a minuet, a hoedown, and pavane, for example). There was not a dull moment, and the Da Capo ensemble with percussionist John Ferrari achieved split-second timing under the leadership of conductor James Baker. Pianist Steven Beck was remarkable here and throughout the evening for his almost surgical precision. One could hardly imagine finding a better performance of this work. It was another feather in the cap of Da Capo to feature this very worthy, though perhaps underrepresented, composer.

After intermission, Mr. Karchin and Mr. Davis were joined by Elliott Carter scholar John Link and conductor James Baker in a panel discussion, and the rest of the program was music by Elliott Carter, with performances of his Enchanted Preludes (1988), and Triple Duo (1982-3). Not surprisingly the panel discussion touched on the influence on the two composers present of Elliott Carter, the senior member of the evening’s triumvirate – and there would have been enough material there to justify calling the entire evening a Carter-fest if Mr. Karchin and Mr. Davis had not offered such engagingly individual works of their own. There were recollections about Carter’s personality, about the composers’ first exposures to his music, and about his overall influence (regardless of whether it affected this evening’s works specifically). There seemed some consensus about Carter’s de-emphasis of downbeats, his music’s overall fluidity (which Mr. Davis noted especially), and the interest in metric modulation. There was in addition the mention of his every note possessing character, a quality which the superb Da Capo players brought out extremely well. The discussion became particularly fascinating in response to the question of how each composer composes – whether from an initial extra-musical idea, from small to large, large to small, from a desired proportion, or creating a figurative “scaffolding” – but sadly a report of these details goes beyond the scope of this review. The interested reader must simply attend the next Da Capo event. 

Carter’s Enchanted Preludes (1988) found flutist Catherine Boyack and cellist Chris Gross in an outstanding pairing, colored with wonderful flutter-tongue sounds from Ms. Boyack and compelling colors from Mr. Gross. 

The only work that was difficult to enjoy, despite its virtuosic performance, was Carter’s Triple Duple, which closed the program. Once again the acoustics of the Tenri Institute made the volume and tone quality in higher registers actually painful. Certainly there were all the tonal colors and individual articulations that give Carter’s music its “flavors” – but in this case (extending a food-music comparison started in the panel discussion) one’s musical “taste buds” had been obliterated by the musical equivalent of a pepper topping the Scoville scale. One kept trying to savor it, thinking “If only I could really taste this.” There were of course many moments for savoring between these strident sounds, but it was hard to unclench after them.

This listener will still eagerly await the next Da Capo concerts, and for more information, the reader can visit: Da Capo Chamber Players