Deke Sharon, Conductor and Creative Director
Special Guests: Major Attaway and T.3

Kaila Mullady, Vocal Percussion
Distinguished Concerts Singers International

Stern Auditorium at Carnegie Hall, New York, NY

March 24. 2024

On March 24, Distinguished Concerts International New York (DCINY) presented the 2024 edition of Total Vocal, led by the incomparable Deke Sharon. Special guests were Major Attaway and the trio T.3. Kalia Mullady was the vocal percussionist (or beat-boxer if you prefer, even though Deke Sharon tells us they are not exactly the same thing!). The participating groups were St. Mary’s Academy SAIMARAC, Pop Voices, The Head of School Singers, Pop Chorus, Atlantic Harmonies Youth Choirs, Woodson High School Unaccompanied Minors, CDNIS Community Choir, Forte A Cappella, Squad Harmonix, Sheppard Academy of Vocal Arts, and Antigo High School Canto Voce. Seven decades (!) of vocalists were represented in those groups.

Deke Sharon, arguably the leader of the world of a cappella, is a force of nature. He was the host, the conductor, and ringmaster – and even performer, as he sang Dave Matthew’s Crash Into Me, dedicating it to his wife. He did it all with enough energy for ten people. He was also the arranger of nearly all the selections and the writer of the program notes (and if he ever tires of a cappella, he has a ready-made new career in humor writing).  As if that were not enough, he offered his email (deke@dekesharon.com) for anyone to contact him who wants to sing in a group, with the promise he would find a place for them. In essence, Deke Sharon is Total Vocal.

Mr. Sharon bounded onto the stage and called out to the chorus, “Are You Ready?,” which was answered with a resounding “YES!” Without any further hesitation, the huge chorus launched into a spirited performance of the Journey classic Anyway You Want It, with a level of energy and spirit that set the tone for the entire show. U2’s Beautiful Day followed, with seventeen soloists and two vocal percussionists. Normally I would not list so many names, but this is not an ordinary occasion, so here they are: The vocalists were Alaina Manzo, Ava Jolie, Mayu Yamashita, Elana Vennard, Sam Coleman, Elise Derman, Tracy Booth, Yula Andrews, Helen Kay Tierney, Jaimie Volkaerts, Gemma Henbest, Katie Volkaerts, Ruby Cooney, Scarlett Carville, Ava Gad, Calliope Condo, and Sydney Korpusik. The vocal percussionists were Asten Oh and Easton Verano. The massed chorus also offered a thoughtful Nobody Like U (Billie Eilish/Finneas O’Connell) from Turning Red.

The first of two featured ensembles, The Head of School Singers (affectionately referred to by its members as HOSS), hailing from Nashville, Tennessee, took center stage. Looking sharp in matching blazers, these young men gave a polished performance of John Legend’s All of Me. Complete with choreographed moments and excellent ensemble, including some amazingly rendered close harmonies, it was exceptional, and more so when one considers these are high schools students. Well done, gentlemen! The second featured ensemble, Forte A Cappella, from Centerville, Ohio, showed the winning form that has garnered them awards galore. Their rendition of Human Nature (Steve/Porcaro/John Betti) made famous by Michael Jackson, had a slick sophistication that was truly exceptional. Once again, these are high school students!

There were numbers that focused on “higher voices” and “lower voices.” The former was The Chain, one of the many “break-up” songs from the Fleetwood Mac hit album Rumors, and it was given an energetic performance.  The latter was Rocky Mountain High, the John Denver classic, done with heartfelt sincerity.  Vocal Percussionist Kaila Mullady whipped the audience into a fever pitch with a stunning exhibition of her skill during her solo segment.

On to the special guest artists. Major Attaway, probably best known for his role as the Genie in the Broadway production of Aladdin, gave a powerful performance of Steve Miller’s Fly Like an Eagle that was strongly reminiscent of Seal’s cover. The New York-based T.3 (the “T” meaning tenor), whose members are Liam Franklin, Jim Hogan, and Brendan Jacob Smith, offered three selections, Bring Him Home (from Les Misérables), when the party’s over (Billie Eilish/Finneas O’Connell), and Into the Unknown from Frozen 2. These talents “turned up the dial” as they progressed through their set, bringing the audience to a frenzied state. The audience exploded into an ovation when they tore into the last notes of Into the Unknown.

All the artists joined together for a showstopping performance of the final song on the program, Stevie Wonder’s Sir Duke. One could see audience members singing and swaying along to the music. The “mandatory” encore, The Lion Sleeps Tonight ended the show on a joyous note. If you want an afternoon of unbridled fun and the pleasure of seeing people of all ages having the time of their lives, then Total Vocal is the ticket for you. Be there in 2025!

Leslie Dala, Marc-André Bougie, and Peter Tiboris, Conductors
New England Symphonic Ensemble

Preston Hawes, Artistic Director/Concertmaster

Stern Auditorium at Carnegie Hall, New York, NY

March 23, 2024

MidAmerica Productions, led by founder Peter Tiboris, presented the excellent New England Symphonic Ensemble in a concert March 23, 2024, at Carnegie Hall. Three well-loved masterpieces, Mozart’s Coronation Mass and the Overture to The Marriage of Figaro, Beethoven’s monumental Symphony No. 5 in C minor, Op. 67, and the New York premiere of Marc-André Bougie’s Magnificat formed the program. Choruses from Arkansas, North Carolina, Texas, and Canada (Vancouver, BC) joined the New England Symphonic Ensemble for the Coronation Mass and the Magnificat. This was MidAmerica’s 1,482^nd concert worldwide, 1,146^th in New York, and 691^st in Carnegie Hall.

Leslie Dala took the podium to conduct Mozart’s Mass in C major, K. 317, commonly known as the Coronation. It does not seem that Mozart composed this mass for a specific coronation. The Imperial court in Vienna gave the mass this nickname in the 19^th century after it became the preferred music for coronations and other imperial occasions. The nickname was included in the first edition of the Köchel catalogue of Mozart’s works in 1862. The program notes tell us that Mozart used material from this mass in future works (most notably in The Marriage of Figaro), but I would like to add that Haydn also alluded to this rich material in the slow movement of his Symphony No. 98 in B-Flat major (a nearly identical quote of the Agnus Dei).

Mr. Dala led with a light touch, projecting the exultant quality of Mozart’s conception. It’s easy to see why this work became a favorite, and it still sounds (245 years after its composition) as fresh as if it had just been written. Kudos to the New England Symphonic Ensemble for showcasing that “freshness” with what seemed to be a practiced ease. The chorus was solid throughout.

The vocal soloists – soprano Brittany Hebel, mezzo-soprano Emily Hughes, tenor Minghao Liu, and bass-baritone Andrew Dwan – all have impressive performance credentials, so it was not surprising that all were exceptional in their respective roles.  All had strong projection, precise intonation, and clear diction. What was truly notable was their ensemble. If one did not know better, one might have thought that they had worked as a group for years. No one voice dominated the others, which is more unusual than one might expect. This listener was completely taken with this, which took an otherwise “good” performance into the “great” category.

After the Mozart, Marc-André Bougie (b. 1976) took the podium to conduct the New York premiere of his seven-movement Magnificat. As the composer wrote in the program notes, he wanted to create something original while following in the footsteps of his great predecessors in their settings of the Magnificat. I can state that Mr. Bougie was successful in this goal. Mr. Bougie writes in a strict tonal manner, but with interesting harmonic and rhythmic twists more closely associated with 20^th century music. The first movement (Magnificat) was filled with joy and enlivened with syncopation. It reminded me of John Rutter, but not in a “copycat” way. Soprano soloist Alaysha Fox was a revelation. Her exquisitely controlled vibrato, strong projection, and crystalline voice, especially in the upper register in the Quia respexit and Esurientes, were highlights for this listener. This might be a controversial opinion, but I believe the success of this work relies to a great extent on how well the soprano soloist deals with the challenges of the demanding solos. Let’s not forget tenor soloist Suchan Kim, who was a force and a star in his own right in the Lord, now dismiss your servant movement. The New England Symphonic Ensemble was (again) superb. The chorus was well prepared, and having Mr. Bougie’s own home chorus (who had already performed the work) no doubt was an added benefit. The Gloria Patri, which employs the opening theme of the first movement built to a triumphant finish. The audience gave Mr. Bougie a well-earned ovation.

After intermission, Maestro Tiboris took the podium. Mozart’s Overture to The Marriage of Figaro was given a sprightly, felicitous reading. One might say it was “dessert before dinner.” Dinner took the form of Beethoven’s Symphony No. 5 in C minor, Op. 67, which followed. So much has been written, and so much lore is attached to this work, that one could fill volumes – “Fate knocking on the door” and “V for Victory” (the first four notes corresponding to the letter V in Morse code: …- ) are two of the best-known. Those opening four notes might be the most recognizable in the entirety of music – even those people who know nothing about music know the “da-da-da-duh!”

About those four notes – I have heard the musical equivalent of a twenty-car pile-up by some top-notch orchestras (who I will not name) for what seems to be the simplest of openings. Spoiler alert: it is not simple. Maestro Tiboris led with a decisive hand, and I breathed a sigh of relief as those opening bars were strong and precise. This set the tone for the rest of the work. I have written in earlier reviews about my admiration for Maestro Tiboris’s minimalist approach – no histrionics or sweeping gestures – and my opinion remains the same. He knows his orchestra is highly capable and does not feel the need to “over-conduct.” That’s not to say he is not engaged. When it is necessary he is demonstrative and demanding. This worked especially well for this performance. This listener has a nearly half-century love of this symphony and still gets a thrill out of hearing a fine performance. The audience reacted with a loud and extended ovation for Maestro Tiboris and the New England Symphonic Ensemble. Bravo!

Maestros Dala and Bougie joined Maestro Tiboris on-stage for a final bow. Congratulations to all!

Twelve Preludes and Fugues (Nos. 13–24), Book II from

24 Preludes and Fugues, op. 87 – Dmitri Shostakovich

Regina Shenderovich, piano

Marc A Scorca Hall, The National Opera Center, New York, NY

March 8, 2024

Eventbrite advertising drew a small but attentive group of listeners to Marc A. Scorca Hall on March 8^th for a rare treat: a performance of the second volume of Preludes and Fugues by Dmitri Shostakovich, a documentary project reserved for pianists of exemplary mettle and inner strength. The success of such an undertaking in a live concert also involves forging a delicate sense of trust with the audience, who must process complicated (although beautiful) details for more than eighty minutes without intermission. The pianist Regina Shenderovich, self-reliant and supremely up to the task, sat at the side of the stage until concert time, introduced her own program chattily without a shred of nervousness, and turned her own pages, emerging at the end of this test of fire as fresh as if she could quite happily have repeated the show.

Would that the life of the composer had been so unafflicted. Shostakovich spent his days in apprehensive contemplation of the fate that would befall him if the authorities should deem his music offensive or “formalist,” worthy of political imprisonment or even execution if he overstepped arbitrary creative boundaries. The favorite aesthetic insult could be interpreted and manipulated by any committee of bureaucrats; but a direct phone call from Joseph Stalin to Shostakovich overrode all threats when the Soviet Union needed a spokesperson at the Cultural and Scientific Conference for World Peace in New York in 1949. Shostakovich complied and was safe, but never recovered from his psychological scars.

The 24 Preludes and Fugues were written in 1950‐51 for the young Tatyana Nikolayeva, winner of the bicentennial International Bach Competition in 1950. Nikolayeva performed them until the very end of her life, from memory and in pairs of concerts. In 1993, I flocked to the 92^nd Street Y with a cohort of students to sit bravely through both concerts of one cycle, sheepishly realizing that some preparation might have illuminated this transformative experience. Two weeks later, Nikolayeva left our world, having suffered a cerebral hemorrhage while performing the Preludes and Fugues in San Francisco.

The individual pieces, modelled on the much shorter originals of J. S. Bach, are organized not in rising half tones but in the manner of Chopin’s Preludes, by ascending fifths and relative minor keys. They are an effective staple of the repertoire of students and concert artists and satisfy expressive as well as mathematical cravings. Presented as a collection, they are more forbidding. The first fugue of the second book, near the outset of the concert, is a five-voice challenge in F-sharp major. Shostakovich alludes constantly to Bach while venturing into the ethos of the postwar (and Cold War) Soviet Union, with a churning, punctuated waltz (D-flat major), tremolo figures and monolithic church themes (E-flat minor), giddy passagework in every range of the keyboard (B-flat major), and Brucknerian architecture building to a cataclysmic eruption of reinforced octaves (D minor), in a cathartic climax that could incite an instant standing ovation if played to a full house.

Ms. Shenderovich hails from St. Petersburg’s Special Music School via Philadelphia, Baltimore, and Illinois. She bears an unusual likeness to the youthful Nikolayeva. An artist of prodigious musical resources, she brings out the fluidity of lines with sophisticated textural layering, subordinating basses to an infinitely colored right hand, and launching into pyrotechnical finger-twisters without fear. Particularly memorable were F minor with its poignant major/minor thirds à la Josquin, and dreamy F major with its Bach transcription-like sincerity and optimism. Where Nikolayeva capitalized on an imposing authority, Ms. Shenderovich lets us know we are always in good hands but never oversells her wares. She has a promising future with this tour de force if she decides to invest the time to memorize a daunting program, and if she can find a brilliant publicist.

Steering clear of the darkness and pessimism in the Preludes and Fugues may have obliterated traces of irony and sarcasm essential to Shostakovich, but at the same time Ms. Shenderovich appeared to be healing his pathological undertones with a much-needed, soothing balm.

Fall of the Weimar Republic: Dancing on the Precipice
David Witten, piano; Christine Lamprea, cello; Sue-Ellen Hershman-Tcherepnin, flute; Michael Roth, violin
Italian Academy – Columbia University, New York, NY
March 6, 2024

In the tumultuous aftermath of World War I, the Weimar Republic emerged as a melting pot of artistic innovation, and its music became an important reflection of the era’s social upheaval and cultural transformation. Deep in the exuberance of the 1920s and early 1930s, the music of the Weimar Republic encapsulates a unique blend of influences, from avant-garde experimentation to works that directly referenced political turmoil.

Tonight’s program featured four composers whose careers were thriving in the vibrant cultural scene of the Weimar Republic. Their musical expression was closely tied to the immediate social transformations of the time, especially those composers who fled in the mid-1930s due to the looming threat of the Nazi takeover.

The first piece on the program for solo piano was the Piano Sonata (1924) by Igor Stravinsky (1882-1971). This work had its world premiere at the Donaueschingen Summer Music Festival (Donaueschingener Musiktage), the first European festival dedicated to contemporary music. However, this is a work that saw Stravinsky heading in a new direction. The “neo-Baroque” style is apparent- pianist David Witten described it as “Bach with a head cold.” The lean writing in the first movement was handled with care and the sinewy lines were played with a suppleness that one craves in Baroque writing. As Mr. Witten stated, Stravinsky “atones for his sins” of dissonance and angularity in the final cadence. The second movement reminds one of an arioso of Bach, perhaps a nod to the Italian Concerto, BWV 971. The improvisatory quality came through with the constant pulse of the left-hand and the florid right-hand lines. However, this could have benefited from a calmer pacing. The third movement soared with a two-voice counterpoint throughout – the final long pedal tone, another Baroque technique, led us to the end where Stravinsky leaves the listener in a satisfying state of tonal harmony.

The next composer, Mario Castelnuovo-Tedesco (1895-1968), was an Italian-born composer who dedicated much of his life to being a film composer after he fled Europe to the United States in the early 1930s. The pieces performed tonight are titled Greeting Cards – they are musical “cryptograms”- each dedicated to a friend of his. Mr. Witten was joined by cellist Christine Lamprea for the first piece, Valse for Violoncello and Piano on the name of Gregor Piatigorsky (1954). The piece was tender and haunting, and Ms. Lamprea communicated clarity of tone and the sensuousness of the dance beautifully, and, of course, the nod to Tchaikovsky was a cheeky sorbet among some of the more adventurous harmonies. The following four works were for solo piano. Für Erna (1956) was played with warmth and had rich and surprising harmonies – a short and sweet homage. The following piece was more substantial, Etude on the name of Jacob Gimpel (1955) where Mr. Witten describes the melodic theme tainted by a dissonant note, as if it were a magnet leading the listener there. This etude was performed with command where the right hand’s whirling figures could be seen as romantic and cinematic. The ending communicated a mystical feeling. Ninna Nanna (Cradle Song) (1952) is not a “Greeting Card” but a lovely canonic lullaby – a sensitive performance. The final piece on the first half of the program was La torre del diavolo (1960). This dramatic piece had thoughtful pacing and effective rumbles from the bass.

After a short intermission, we were treated to three pieces by Paul Ben-Haim (1897-1974), a German composer who also fled Europe to Tel Aviv in 1933. Much of his composition is inspired by and references Jewish and Sephardic music traditions. Mr. Witten was joined by flutist Sue-Ellen Hershman-Tcherepnin for these three pieces. The first, Arioso, had a drone accompaniment in the piano which was heartbreaking, perhaps personifying the weariness of a summer’s day – the flute melody had a languid quality and was performed by Ms. Hershman-Tcherepnin with ease. Ballad was hypnotic and the rhetorical elements of the oral tradition of storytelling were clearly communicated in the flute part. Sephardic Melody is based on a traditional folk tune from the Sephardic-Jewish tradition. It had a melismatic, guttural, and free cadenza which communicated an ancient quality in the music with a mournful tone. The improvisatory and decorative piano part was played with great freedom but never sacrificing ensemble – it was a very moving piece.

The final selection on the program was another work that was premiered at the Donaueschingen Summer Music Festival, the Concerto da Camera, Op. 33, by Alexander Tcherepnin (1899-1977). This evening it was performed as a trio with violin, flute and piano as arranged by the composer himself. Mr. Witten was joined by Michael Roth on violin and once again by Sue-Ellen Hershman-Tcherepnin on flute.

The first movement, Allegro maestoso, had lean writing and a unison rhythm. The ensemble was committed to communicating the drama of the work although every now and then the pulse became somewhat unclear. The contrasting section was more playful. This short movement ended suddenly with a dramatic restatement of the main theme. The second movement, Andantino, had a somber opening and the interplay between the parts was the feature. The repeated metronomic rhythm in the violin and flute seemed to communicate the monotony of time. This dark and humorless movement was quite effective. In contrast, the third movement, Vivace, was full of energy. The work was performed with a subtle severity which could have been exploited even more. The middle section had an eerie nostalgia performed with great sway, and the unassuming ending worked very well. The last movement, Allegro molto, had great rhythmic vitality and the ensemble was able to display virtuosity and convey the dissonances in a compelling way.

This performance of works from the era of the Weimar Republic is an excellent example of why musicians should continue to explore new works constantly. Aside from the Piano Sonata by Stravinsky, all these works were new to this reviewer, and I’m sure as well to many of the audience present this evening. The commitment to this music by David Witten is admirable and I look forward to hearing more works by these composers performed by him and his colleagues. It is also exciting that the festival Fall of the Weimar Republic: Dancing on the Precipice curated by Carnegie Hall will be ongoing until May. I hope to be able to attend some of those concerts in the near future. Bravo to all!

Walter Aparicio

Şahan Arzruni, pianist and musicologist

The National Arts Club, New York, NY

March 5, 2024

The National Arts Club this week hosted one of the most engaging lecture recitals in memory, as Armenian pianist and musicologist Şahan Arzruni discussed and performed music by Armenian women composers. He featured the composers (listed chronologically here) Lucy Hazarabedian, Koharik Gazarossian, Sirvart Karamanuk, Gayane Chebotaryan, Geghuni Chitchyan, Alicia Terzian, Sirvart Kazandjian, and Mary Kouyoumdjian. Their compositions ranged in date from 1879 to 2020, but thematic origins go much further back in the case of the Alicia Terzian piece, based on the melody Zarmanali e ints (“It is amazing to me”), which is an eighth-century chant known to be composed by a woman and still sung in Armenian churches today. It is, according to Mr. Arzruni, the world’s earliest extant example of music created by a woman (whether that woman was Khosrovidukht, as most believe, or Sahakdukht, as others maintain). So, given that chant, the evening could be said to have spanned over a millennium of music by Armenian women.

All of this history would be interesting to any musician or Armenologist, but it was the talented and passionate Şahan Arzruni who brought it all to life for us on Tuesday. An octogenarian now, he projected more of the spirit of exploration than many teenagers. His excitement over his various discoveries was contagious. Having reviewed him in 2016 in a benefit concert he played to raise funds for an Armenian home for the elderly, I already knew of his ceaseless work for Armenia, but his honors and distinctions have only grown, too many to enumerate, so the reader is encouraged to visit his website (Şahan Arzruni ). A CD of the music we heard is in the works, and based on what I heard I’ll be looking out for it.

Mr. Arzruni opened with three of the Six Preludes from 1948 by Gayane Chebotaryan (1918-1998), whom he called the grande dame of Armenian music. As Gayane Chebotaryan was also a musicologist who wrote about the music of Aram Khachaturian in 1969, shades of Khachaturian’s sound in her music seemed not too surprising; apart from that, there was also a highly individual bluesy quality to the opening selection, and Mr. Arzruni drew his audience into its inviting tonal world. The third selection brought to mind hints of the Polovetsian Dances of Borodin (not too surprising, as the old region of Polovtsi – also known as Cumania – abutted Armenia), and Mr. Arzruni played it winningly. He finished this opening set with élan.

Moving to our time, we heard the Ode to Vahan (1996) by Alicia Terzian (b. 1934), an Argentine composer of Armenian descent who at Mr. Arzruni’s request based her work on the abovementioned eighth-century chant; don’t be misled, however, into thinking that the chant’s sacred spot in the liturgy made Terzian’s work a peaceful one. Ode to Vahan is a probing and troubling work, opening with explosive bass clusters on the piano and combining recorded sounds –  spoken and choral – to haunting effect. When one learns the devastating story behind the chant, the drama is more graspable, but there will be no spoilers here. The reader will simply need to read the CD liner notes when the time comes. Meanwhile, Mr. Arzruni is to be commended for taking on such a challenge and playing it with mastery.

Zigzagging back another half-century, the recital continued with Koharik Gazarossian (1907-1967), who was greatly influenced by her experience copying scores by Komitas, the “father of Armenian music” (whose exile during the Armenian Genocide had also resulted in the relocation of his manuscripts, hence the need for copying). Two of a set of four of her pieces from 1947 were included, My Child, Your Mother Is Dead and Your Name is Shushan. The first was of course funereal, with even just its title too unbearable to hear – while the second piece seemed to reflect more the folk influence of Komitas, who had gone to great lengths to collect original Armenian music, as Mr. Arzruni explained. This reviewer, for one, felt inspired to explore further.

Sadly there is no way to condense a dissertation’s worth of information into this review – or to replicate Mr. Arzruni’s skill as raconteur, but suffice it to say that his gifts in that area made this already revelatory evening still more of a delight. His personal experiences with several of the featured composers colored the drier scholarly information, and though he would say “this is neither here nor there” about a digression, his human interest tidbits did much to bring the composers closer to us. Mr. Arzruni is no stranger to the world of pure entertainment, after all, and it should be remembered that he was once the “straight man” (and collaborative pianist) for the great Victor Borge. He repeatedly checked the audience’s pulse with, “How are we doing?” – and it was so refreshing after many concerts in which the audience has felt like an afterthought; exactly like Borge, however, Şahan Arzruni’s gift for humor works alongside a considerable musical gift that is not be taken lightly.

The next composer included, and the youngest was Mary Kouyoumdjian (b. 1983 in Beirut of Armenian heritage), currently part of the New York Philharmonic’s Project 19 (a multiyear initiative to commission new pieces from 19 women composers). Ms. Kouyoumdjian’s piano piece, I Haven’t the Words (2020), was written in response to the pandemic along with the growing social and political unrest of that year, and the music left this listener feeling exactly the sentiment of its title. Repeated eighth note patterns in expanding intervals created an almost nightmarish spell – and not through harsh cacophony but through cumulative musical tension. The composer was present to take a bow with Mr. Arzruni and was given an enthusiastic ovation. Many will certainly want to attend the premiere of her new work by the New York Philharmonic on May 10th.

A total break from our time came with The Nightingale of Armenia (1879) by Lucy Hazarabedian (1863- c.1882). Hazarabedian was, Mr. Arzruni speculates, probably the first female composer of Armenian piano music. Though The Nightingale of Armenia is simply a friendly little polka created when the composer was just sixteen and first published in an almanac in 1913 (long after the composer’s untimely death), it was certainly a welcome touch to have something from the nineteenth century on the program, and Mr. Arzruni played its century-overdue premiere with charm.

Following the Hazarabedian miniature came a spontaneous-sounding Dance-Song (1965), composed by Mr. Arzruni’s maternal aunt, Sirvart Karamanuk (1912-2008). It was given an energetic performance and was followed by The Bells of Ani (1971) by Sirvart Kazandjian (1944-2020), from Ms. Kazandjian’s volume À ma Patrie (To my Homeland). Though Ms. Kazandjian was actually born in Ethiopia where there was once a strong Armenian community, her myriad bell sounds spoke from her Armenian heart, built to a huge climax, and left a feeling of tragedy in the aftermath. Mr. Arzruni was an excellent advocate for the piece, as he was for each one on the program. Though it is hard to believe in this day of information overload that much of this Armenian music remains virtually unknown, Şahan Arzruni is here to remedy that, among other missions.

The program closed on an “up” note with the Sonatina (1986) by Geghuni Chitchyan (b.1929). As things seemed to be running late, Mr. Arzruni quipped “I’m gonna play as fast as possible” – and he did just about that! The little piece breezed by, with its energetic neo-classical opening, beautifully lyrical central movement, and jaunty last movement with hints of humor à la Shostakovich. It was a strong ending to an inspiring evening.

One could only feel grateful for what was a life-affirming reminder – even from such a troubled region in a troubled world – that the greatness of Armenia is here to stay. Zarmanali e ints, indeed. It is amazing to me.

Charles Neidich, clarinet; Ayako Oshima, clarinet

Michael Lowenstern, bass clarinet; Mohamed Shams, piano

Tenri Cultural Institute, New York, NY

March 1, 2024

The Tenri Cultural Institute was packed this Friday as the WA Concert Series presented a “re-debut” program entitled “The World of the Expanded Clarinet” led by WA co-founders Charles Neidich and Ayako Oshima. It reminded us of how much we’ve been missing since March of 2020, when the onslaught of COVID-19 forced their hiatus (apart from some virtual offerings). I am happy to report that they are back and better than ever!

WA concerts have always been known for their fascinating, sometimes eclectic, programs, performed by dazzling musicians, with clarinetists Charles Neidich and Ayako Oshima (Mr. Neidich’s wife and partner) at the helm. Your reviewer (along with most of the music world) has admired the virtuoso playing of Charles Neidich for over four decades now (his biography being too crammed with honors and distinctions to relay but found here: Charles Neidich), and the brilliant Ayako Oshima has established herself as a formidable force in her own right – but Friday’s “dream team” was made still stronger with the inclusion of rock-solid pianist Mohamed Shams and ingenious bass clarinetist Michael Lowenstern.

The program incorporated old and new, including well-known nineteenth-century music by César Franck and Ernest Chausson and twentieth-century works of Nadia Boulanger (1887-1979), Yayoi Kitazume (b. 1945), and Edison Denisov (1929-1996), plus compositions by Mr. Lowenstern (b. 1968) and Mr. Neidich (b. 1953).

The evening started with Trois Pièces by Nadia Boulanger, a set originally composed for organ in 1911, arranged by the composer in 1914 for cello and piano, and transcribed for clarinet “last week” by Mr. Neidich, as he announced much to the amusement of the audience. The opening Moderato was a perfect welcome to the concert, with its dreamy clarinet lines floating over quasi-impressionistic piano accompaniment. The second piece, Sans vitesse et à l’aise,brought to mind the restrained sorrow of some of Ravel’s more solemn works and was delivered with eloquence. In both of these pieces, the clarinet handled the original cello lines with equivalent or heightened lyricism, sacrificing nothing, while in the third and final piece, Vite et nerveusement rythmé, the clarinet seemed actually to add a spiky precision to the work’s frenetic energy. Bravo to this wonderful addition to the clarinet transcription literature!

Ayako Oshima took the stage next to perform the U.S. premiere of a 2017 work by Yayoi Kitazume with its title translated from the Japanese as “Teetering Balance” and based on the Paul Klee painting of a similar title, usually referred to as “Unstable Equilibrium” (1922, watercolor over pencil). Until Ms. Oshima pointed it out, this listener was unaware that there were program notes (accessible by a QR code in the printed program), including a reprint of the Paul Klee artwork, so not having been able to envision the artwork before hearing it made listening an even more interesting experiment. There was only the music as a guide in what seemed a fascinating exploration of musical space. Upon later reading in Ms. Kitazume’s notes that she “wanted to construct a three-dimensional piece of music that blended time frames and directions of consciousness” the work and performance seemed in retrospect even more remarkably on target. Ms. Oshima painted with her clarinet a picture so vivid that most visual artists would be envious. It was a highlight of the concert.

Another highlight of the program was the performance by Mr. Neidich of the Sonata for solo clarinet (1972) by the important Russian avant-garde composer Edison Denisov, whose brilliance transcended Soviet beleaguering and blacklisting. We know from Mr. Neidich’s introduction that he personally knew Denisov from his own time in Moscow and that Denisov considered Mr. Neidich’s 1975 performance of the piece to be its premiere (in terms of authority if not chronology), and one could see why. The work is, among other things, a tour de force for the instrument, exploiting microtones, the haunting bending of pitches, flutter tongue techniques, fiendish leaps of register, and constant metric changes – and Mr. Neidich is clearly still a master of it all nearly fifty years later. Part of his power is that he projects the character and direction of each phrase as if playing it for the first time – never any “phoning in” – and even a lay person, who might be unaccustomed to navigating such challenging music, could grasp it. Particularly striking was the second and final movement, Allegro giusto, in which a quietly obsessive B-flat (concert pitch A-flat) asserts its presence persistently amid surrounding histrionics (suggesting the disproportionate havoc caused by something tiny, say, a mouse). To hear these disjunct roles achieved by a single player is amazing, and the way Mr. Neidich concluded the work with that final idée fixe note after a long rest made it hard not to gasp in reaction (whether or not an audience member could distinguish any pitch from a hole in the ground). That is communication through music, and that is what one has come to expect from WA concerts.

It is always interesting to hear a performer play his own music, and this evening’s inclusion of Why? (2020) by Charles Neidich (the in-person world premiere) was no exception. It offered the opportunity to hear the Neidich-Oshima clarinet duo in what was Mr. Neidich’s musical response to the “tragedy, misfortune, and injustice” (according to his notes) that loomed in the early stages of the pandemic but with “even more urgency in 2024.” The question “Why?” refers to “why people do not take the necessary step of joining together to protect humanity and the world we live in.” The duo made their statement with music of individual searching, incidental dissonance, and clashing parallel pursuits that never quite meet or settle.

The first half concluded with the balm of a more familiar style via the Andante et Allegro (1881) of Ernest Chausson. It was given a winning performance by Mr. Neidich with Mohamed Shams, whose collaborative skills rendered his considerable pianism almost parenthetical.

Every concert has its takeaway “discovery” – and, in this instance, that discovery greeted us after intermission. Billed on the program only as “Surprise” to be played by Michael Lowenstern, it turned out to be Mr. Lowenstern’s performance of his own bass clarinet version of Summertime from Gershwin’s opera, Porgy and Bess, based on an improvisation Mr. Lowenstern first recorded in 1994. It seems hard to believe that back when this reviewer was a doctoral student frequenting “record stores” (remember those?), she had never come across Mr. Lowenstern’s awe-inspiring performance; in retrospect, however, she just might have heard it in passing but assumed it was some kind of unusual jazz ensemble. You see, what Mr. Lowenstern does here is to become a one-man band. If one closes one’s eyes, one hears not just the clarinet singing out the famous melody, but the gradual entry of a percussion section through the equivalent of clarinet beat-boxing, miraculously the faint pizzicato of a double bass interwoven here and there, and myriad other wind evocations – all held together with a beat sometimes heard but sometimes simply felt. To hear it is a delight – but to see it is mind-boggling. It was a miraculous performance.

Mr. Neidich reemerged from backstage with evident pride in a musician he smilingly called “my progeny” and was then joined by Mr. Shams for the Sonata for violin and piano in A Major (1886) of César Franck, transcribed for clarinet by Mr. Neidich, himself. It was an unforgettable feat, especially after so much other music-making. Mr. Neidich’s playing, with tremendous support from Mr. Shams, made a great case for the clarinet’s ability to do just about anything. That being said (and with apologies), this listener is a diehard fan of the piece in its violin (and even cello) versions, still preferring the string timbres and still preferring the way the phrases seem somehow born to be bowed. It need not be an either-or proposition, though, as pianists know very well (as they plunder the entire orchestral repertoire) – so it is chiefly a personal preference. Such objects of “transcription desire” are like Mt. Everest – we have to climb it because it is there. This Franck transcription undoubtedly expands the repertoire for the clarinetists out there who can handle it, as has been done for the flute and any number of other instruments. After all, Franck “asked for it” by composing such a gorgeous piece of music. The resulting standing ovation was well deserved, and an encore of Autumn Song (October) followed, from Tchaikovsky’s The Seasons, in a touching clarinet-piano arrangement.

Unbelievably, the musical feast was followed by a gourmet feast – the creation of Ayako Oshima. Long may the WA concerts brighten the cultural scene in New York City!

Mira Armij Gill, pianist; Francisco Salazar, violin

Weill Recital Hall, Carnegie Hall, New York

Sunday February 25, 2024

Weill Hall at Carnegie Hall was packed this Sunday with an audience eager to hear pianist Mira Armij Gill play a program of Samuel Barber – and they were amply rewarded. The concert was billed as “In Memory of John Browning” (1933-2003). Mr. Browning was of course (among other distinctions) an outstanding champion of Barber’s music, and he was also one of Ms. Gill’s teachers at the Juilliard School, where she received her bachelor’s and master’s degrees. For those unable to attend Sunday’s performance – or for those who want to hear the music again – a CD of her playing this same repertoire has been released just this month on the Centaur label, now available for purchase from major streaming and retail sites. Autographed CDs are also available for purchase at her website via the following link: CD).

For a (mostly) single-composer program, this concert was artfully varied. It helped that, in addition to playing Barber’s Sonata Op. 26 (1949), Excursions Op. 20 (1944-48), Ballade Op. 46 (1977), and Nocturne Op. 33 (1959), Ms. Gill was joined by her husband, violinist Francisco Salazar, in Barber’s Canzone Op. 38a (1962), the essence of which many would recognize from the slow movement of Barber’s Piano Concerto Op. 38  (in one of its incarnations from 1962 – the Elegy  for flute and piano of 1959 being another). This change in instrumental timbres brought welcome refreshment to the program – and the duo played it beautifully together.

As soloist, Mira Gill clearly demonstrated that she has earned the many laurels that appear in her biography. She is gifted with both technical facility and interpretive imagination. The first piece, Barber’s Nocturne, opened with a warm, lovely sound. Though it had some of the unease that can beset recital openings, it progressed quickly to more involved music-making, with some moments that were truly inspired. The trill towards the end, which Barber marks with the rather unusual instruction trattenuto,was absolutely transporting.

Next came a moving rendition of Barber’s achingly beautiful Canzone by Ms. Gill with her husband Francisco Salazar. Though this reviewer prefers the tonal purity of the flute instrumentation of the original Elegy, the duo made the piece their own, with some generous slides and a ravishing final note from Mr. Salazar.

The Excursions were a great choice to follow, brimming with Americana to finish off the first half. Moments of these gems seemed again a bit less than settled, but certainly such moments would not exist on the newly released CD. If one were to guess, the issue could have been the shift between collaborative and solo playing, the adjustment from tablet for chamber score-reading back to rack-less piano for the solo works – or simply the stress of many friends needing to find a seat in the hall, as they seemed to stream in for much of the rather brief (twenty-eight-minute) first half. In any case, the rhythms were not quite as steady or motoric as one wants in the first piece, and there were momentary glitches here and there in the others. The third Excursion, though – the musical heart of the set – was played to a tee. This listener is quite fussy about that third Excursion, but Ms. Gill could give a masterclass on it, right down to the perfect final voicing and pedal change. The audience seemed to agree and could not restrain their applause.

The second half opened with the only non-Barber work, the Romance for violin and piano by Reinhold Glière, played in moving tribute to the memory of the recently departed sound engineer and producer, Joe Patrych. For all of us who miss Joe and his ubiquitous presence in the New York music world, it was hard to hold back tears.

On the subject of musicians we’ve lost, this listener could only wonder throughout the concert what insights about Barber may have emerged from Ms. Gill’s lessons with John Browning. There were moments in Ms. Gill’s Barber interpretations that sounded unlike any others that this listener has heard, and presumably some of those may be attributable to studies with Mr. Browning.  One of the aspects of Ms. Gill’s playing that stood out was her penchant for demarcating phrases with longer than usual breaths. There was never the sense one hears from many players today of a metronome hiding in the wings. Then again, while a flexible, human sense of rhythm is important and dear to this reviewer’s heart, there were also moments in the concert when long breaths of demarcation struck this listener as possibly excessive. In the Ballade which came next for instance, though Barber does mark a comma sign in the opening phrases and in the return later, a lot of extra stretching threatens to turn 6/8 time into 7/8 time. Curiously, right before the allargando (in both beginning and return), the reverse happened, with rhythms feeling rather compressed. Such moments were thought-provoking, as they seemed fully the pianist’s intention, though they did surprise a listener accustomed to straighter renditions.

Barber’s greatest solo piano work, his Sonata Op. 26 (1949), is a powerful way to end a program, and Ms. Gill’s audience was not disappointed. There is a distinguished history of great performances of this piece, and the pianists topping the list include (among others) Vladimir Horowitz, John Browning, and Naumburg Award winner Howard Aibel (who happens to be the Founder and President of New York Concert Review, but whose stunning performance requires special mention here regardless); there is always room, naturally, for many more recordings of such masterpieces. Based on glimmers from Sunday’s performance, Ms. Gill’s interpretation seems destined to bring new angles and new touches of poetry to the mix. Her Adagio movement captured well the mournfulness of its mesto marking, and her finale had just the right ferocity in the coda. One looks forward very much to hearing it on disc, and if the recording projects the music’s power as well as she did in the heat of the moment – with no editing capabilities and many distractions – it promises to be a solid addition to the Barber discography. Brava!

A grateful audience gave a final standing ovation and was rewarded with an encore of Piazzolla’s Libertango, with Mr. Salazar joining again on violin. One looks forward to hearing Ms. Gill – and Mr. Salazar – again.

Distinguished Concert Singers International; Tucker Biddlecombe, guest conductor

Downtown Voices; guest conductor, Stephen Sands

Elizabeth Bates, soprano

Gabe Terraciano, fiddle; Jacob Joliff, mandolin; Charles Butler, banjo; Jerry Kimbrough, guitar; Mimi Jones, bass

Stern Auditorium, Carnegie Hall, New York, NY

Sunday February 18, 2024

A large and enthusiastic crowd was present at Carnegie Hall this Sunday for yet another impressive program by Distinguished Concerts International New York (DCINY) entitled “Bluegrass Mass” – named for just one of several powerful works they presented. DCINY has developed the knack for streamlining their massive undertakings, with seamless exits and entrances by hundreds of singers (and no intermission), so this concert, which lasted just one hour and contained just four works (three shorter, followed by the longer Bluegrass Mass) still felt jam-packed with enough music to ponder for a lifetime.

The program opened with three works sung by New York City’s very own chorus, Downtown Voices (a group of sixty-plus singers from a quick count), which combines voices from the Choir of Trinity Church Wall Street along with high-level volunteers. Downtown Voices sang three works, starting with a movement from Akathist by rising star Benedict Sheehan, moving on to Arnold Schoenberg’s Friede auf Erden (Peace on Earth) Op. 13, and closing their selections with Rachmaninoff’s sublime and moving “Bogorioditse Devo” from the All-Night Vigil Op. 37.

If this reviewer were primarily a choral musician, the composer Benedict Sheehan would surely have been a familiar name before this concert, as he is a two-time Grammy nominee and prizewinner whose proponents have recently included the stellar group Voces8; as an introduction, however, his uplifting composition spoke for itself. The Downtown Voices’ rendition of “In the Wondrous Blending of Sounds” the central movement from his larger work, Akathist, was simply breathtaking. Based on what Mr. Sheehan refers to as a “gently ornamented melody inspired by South African folk music” it was a perfect start to a program filled with references to peace and prayer amidst an often opposing reality. The choir projected its luminous harmonies with polish, thanks to the expert conducting of Maestro Stephen Sands, who led them from the movement’s faint beginnings into its full bloom. Soloist Elizabeth Bates contributed her pure senza vibrato soprano in one section, which intensified its hallowed feeling. The composer was present for a well-deserved bow from the balcony.

Arnold Schoenberg’s Friede auf Erden, Op. 13 (composed from 1906-1911 and premiered in 1911), provided just the right ballast amid such highly ethereal music. It is based on a poem by Conrad Ferdinand Meyer (1886), which despite its Christmas origins is filled with gritty reality and darkness. The music teeters accordingly between faith and desperation. A challenging and dissonant piece to sing (and originally premiered with orchestra for the purpose of keeping singers on course), it was sung here as originally written, a cappella. Any fleeting awkwardness in pitch only served to intensify the emotion of the piece, which ends in somewhat tenuous harmony, presumably reflective of the composer’s sentiments and those of many today. As Schoenberg wrote (1928), “It is perhaps correct that one must be religious in order to compose church music, or in love in order to compose love songs […], but still one must certainly not be wounded in order to portray a wounded person or dying in order to portray a dying person. And so it would certainly be possible to compose a peace hymn without believing in an eternal peace.” Sigh.

Especially on that note, the Rachmaninoff “Bogorioditse Devo” came as a balm in the program. One of this reviewer’s favorite pieces to begin with, it was given an extremely sensitive performance, vibrant with tonal colors. Its enormous dynamic range took one from gripping forte levels, enhanced by an especially fine bass section, to exquisite pianissimo levels, approached with masterful nuance. Bravi tutti!

After these three exceptional performances came the balance of the program, Carol Barnett’s The World Beloved: A Bluegrass Mass, for which the concert was given its title. Though the chorus Downtown Voices did not leave the stage, they were joined by several hundred more singers constituting the Distinguished Concerts Singers International, led by DCINY Guest Conductor Tucker Biddlecombe. These two hundred or so singers combined the forces of the GPS Singers, Dubuque Chorale, McCallie Men’s Chorus, Green Hope High School Voices Of Hope, Nashville Symphony Chorus, SMS Heritage Singers, Northport High School Tour Choir, and as always with DCINY “individual singers from across the globe.” As they quickly filed onto the Perelman stage, one could hear the discreet tunings of five bluegrass instrumentalists, Gabe Terraciano (fiddle), Jacob Joliff (mandolin), Charles Butler (banjo), Jerry Kimbrough (guitar), and Mimi Jones (bass).

As the composer Carol Barnett states herself, “To bring the solemnity of the classical choir-based mass together with the down home sparkle of bluegrass – now there’s an assignment for a composer!” Together with librettist Marisha Chamberlain, Ms. Barnett has done just about that. The work’s twelve sections, some in Latin as with the traditional mass, were woven expertly among more folklike movements of colloquial texts, and with the help of the five excellent bluegrass instrumentalists, there was music of intense syncopation, strong rhythms, and freewheeling fiddle licks. Maestro Biddlecombe was masterful in uniting the huge combined choir.

Though my colleagues have reviewed this mass for New York Concert Review starting over a decade ago, this was my first hearing, and I am happy to say that I thought it worked beautifully overall. From the opening Ballad, rather straight and sung with an unnamed soprano soloist, it kicked into high gear for the ensuing Kyrie with the help of bassist Mimi Jones. The whole bluegrass “band” (though not given a group name and presumable ad hoc freelancers) made a celebration of the fourth movement, Gloria, and it was a singular treat to hear for the very first time the “plenio sunt coeli” text sung in swing rhythm in the Sanctus. Other highlights included some expert mandolin playing in the Credo and the singing by several other unnamed soloists.

With of course no disrespect at all to bluegrass, the style sometimes (via banjo twanging and folksy rhythms) can evoke associations that run counter to the heft of a text, and that fact came to the fore primarily in the eighth movement where mention of the falling of towers and the voice of God seemed to cry out for more of what the composer herself calls “the solemnity of the classical choir-based mass” – and less of what she calls “the down home sparkle of bluegrass”  (a matter of timing). Though we know that the voice of God need not be a basso profundo (and in fact in the twelfth movement God is described as a She) – and we also know that the idea is meant to be of God coming down as a mere mortal – still, one craved the sense of omnipotence at the heart of more traditional masses. This reviewer found herself at times searching for it. Otherwise, the work as a whole came off as a remarkable achievement.

The audience gave a rousing ovation, undoubtedly for performers and composers alike – in addition to the various choral directors who also took a bow. As usual, DCINY is to be congratulated.

Thomas Nickell, piano/composer

Tenri Cultural Center, New York, NY

February 16, 2024

An overflowing crowd was on hand at the Tenri Cultural Center on February 16, 2024, for a recital given by the talented young pianist/composer Thomas Nickell. The program consisted of three Philip Glass Etudes (Nos. 2, 6, and 8), Scottish Triptych by Ronald Stevenson, and two sonatas composed by Mr. Nickell. I’m going to forgo the usual linear path and group the works by each composer, regardless of the order in which they appeared in the program.

Let’s start with the Glass Etudes. Philip Glass wrote twenty etudes over a two-decade period, and divided them into two groups, Book 1 (1-10) and Book 2 (11-20). Glass writes (about Book 1) that his objective was to explore tempi, textures, and technique, with the goal of serving as a pedagogical tool by which he (Glass) would improve his piano playing. They are by no means “virtuosic” in the conventional sense, but they are much more challenging than they appear – with two of the most obvious examples being the need to play evenly without being robotic and the demand for balance of touch in the repetitions (a hallmark of Glass). Mr. Nickell dealt with these issues with a sure technique, never letting the energy flag while maintaining a musical sense throughout. It’s not an easy task, and it’s also something of a high-risk, low-reward proposition that many pianists would not take on in performance. If I had any qualms, it was that Mr. Nickell was overemphasizing the “loud” sections of Etude 6 (as it is never marked louder than forte) – that made it feel a bit more hectic than was necessary.

The Scottish composer Ronald Stevenson (1928-2015) is hardly unknown, but not a household name either. I suspect this was the first time many in the audience encountered his work (this listener was already acquainted with his two piano concerti). The three-movement Scottish Triptych (1959-1967) celebrates three eminent Scottish artists, song composer Francis George Scott, poet and polemicist Hugh MacDiamind, and poet Sorley MacLean. The writing is eclectic, reflecting the diverse talents of the artists profiled. For example, there is a name-initial motif (F, G, Eb(S), for Francis George Scott, a la DSCH), the influence of traditional Celtic music, and some “modern” percussive patterns and clusters. It is a challenging work for player and listener alike. It often dances on the edges of tonality without ever falling completely off, and there are quicksilver changes in mood and style (e.g., a stately funeral march suddenly gives way to a rapid-fire figuration ending in an angry outburst).  In addition, there is use of extended techniques (playing inside the piano, strumming, and pizzicato). While Mr. Nickell has the requisite technique to deal with the difficulties that abound, it was the slower sections (especially the second movement), with his sensitive and poetic playing, that showed his artistry to its fullest extent. This work was the highlight of the evening for this listener.

Now, on to Mr. Nickell’s two compositions, Piano Sonatas Nos. 1 and 2. The Piano Sonata No.1 was “completed” in 2024, or rather the individual movements composed earlier were joined together in 2024. Mr. Nickell writes in his notes that each movement can be played as a stand-alone work (with a different title as well). This modular approach is interesting, but I’m still not convinced that these movements “go together” as a cohesive work. Each movement on its own is appealing and evocative, showing Mr. Nickell’s talent for composition, even if there were strong hints of Cowell, Crumb, Messiaen, and even Liszt’s B minor Sonata mixed in. The audience did not share my reservations, giving Mr. Nickell a hearty ovation.

The Sonata No. 2, Impressions after Gray’s Lanark, takes as its inspiration Scottish author Alasdair Gray’s 1981 novel Lanark. This novel, with strong Kafkaesque and Orwellian undertones, has become something of a cult classic. My first thought was that this was a modern attempt to copy Liszt’s Après une lecture du Dante: Fantasia quasi Sonata, but I quickly discarded that incorrect and unfair idea. In contrast to the First, this Sonata holds together very well! The three movements, Book 3, Oracle, and Epilogue: Prelude-Chorale-Fugue, all convey ideas and episodes from Lanark with remarkable skill. I could easily imagine hearing this music while reading the book. Bravo!

Mr. Nickell has undoubted talent, and as his talent continues to flourish, I expect his compositions to take on more of a distinctive voice that is less indebted to the influences of his role models. I look forward to hearing what the future holds for him.

Vocal Artists Management Services

James Greening-Valenzuela, manager

Gretchen Greenfield, artistic consultant

Opera America National Opera Center, Marc A. Scorca Hall, New York, NY

February 1, 2024

Vocal Artists Management Services (VAMS) presented their Fifteenth Season Artist Showcase on February 1, 2024, in the Marc A. Scorca Hall at the Opera America National Opera Center. Scenes from Mozart’s Le nozze di Figaro, Handel’s Rodelinda, Bizet’s Carmen, and the musical Les Misérables (music by Claude-Michel Schönberg) formed the program. A brief synopsis of each scene was included in the program notes. Thirteen artists were scheduled to perform the twenty-two selections, both solos and duets. James Greening-Valenzuela, Manager of VAMS, greeted the audience and announced that two artists were ill and unable to perform.

As I have noted in previous reviews at this venue, the Marc A. Scorca Hall has an intimate feel with very live acoustics. One thing that I especially like about VAMS events is that the performers who have completed their selections join the audience to support their colleagues.

These types of concerts are a delight for opera lovers, but they are a challenge for the performers, who must be ready to go after a long wait. It is difficult to be at one’s best under these circumstances, and that might not give the listener a fair demonstration of their abilities.

After the announcement of program modifications, eleven singers and eighteen selections awaited. To comment on each selection would turn this review into a book report, so with this in mind, I will limit myself to commenting on each artist’s highlight. I apologize in advance for shortchanging some who deserved multiple mentions. Also, the stalwart pianist Eric Malson must be recognized – not all heroes wear capes.

Let’s start with the sopranos: Erin Hannon (who appeared in three selections, the most of any one performer) solidified my earlier favorable impression of her (from a 2021 review). Her Susanna from Le nozze di Figaro, particularly in the Deh vieni non tardar, was enchanting. Our alternating Countesses (also from Le nozze di Figaro) Alexandia Crichlow in Porgi amor, and Rebecca Kidnie in Dove sono, displayed the radiant vocal qualities that both have in abundance. Dawna Rae Warren as Rodelinda was stunning – her Morrai si l’empia tua testa was dispatched with what seemed to the greatest ease, making the vocal gymnastics sound like child’s play. Without wishing to take anything away from the other performers, this was the highlight of the evening for this listener.

On to the Mezzo-sopranos: Kaitlyn Tierney offered an impassioned I Dreamed a Dream from Les Misérables. Caroline Tye was a saucy Carmen, complete with a rose in her hair. Her Habanera was subtly provocative, with an understatement that this listener appreciated.

Countertenor Andrew Egbuchiem’s vocal acrobatics in Vivi tiranno from Rodelinda were absolutely breathtaking.

Tenors:  Bradley King wrenched every ounce of torment from Grimaldo’s Fatto inferno from Rodelinda. Sang Bum Cho’s rendition of Don José’s La fleur que tu m’avais jetée, in which he tries to convince Carmen of his feelings for her, was palpable in its sincerity.

Baritones: Tom Sitzler as the bullfighter Escamillo (Carmen) offered a Votre toast, je peux vous le render (better known as the “Toreador Song”) full of swagger and self-importance (complete with taking off his jacket to wave in Toreador fashion), dramatics that were brought to life with his powerful voice. Jin Uk Lee, as Marius (in duet with Ms. Tierney) in A Little Fall of Rain from Les Misérables, was heartbreaking as he pleaded with the mortally wounded Éponine not to die in his arms.

All the singers joined together on stage for a programmed encore of Do You Hear the People Sing? from Les Misérables to the delight of the audience.