New Trier High School Wind Symphony; Matt Temple, Elizabeth Bennett, directors

New Trier High School Symphony Orchestra; Peter Rosheger, Elizabeth Bennett, directors

Johannes Gray, violoncello soloist

Diamond Bar High School Wind Ensemble; Marie Santos, director

Diamond Bar High School Symphony Orchestra; Steven Acciani, director, Dr. Pierre Long-Tao Tang, guest conductor

David Geffen Hall, New York, NY

April 2, 2023

Distinguished Concerts International New York (DCINY) packed in a full day of music on April 2, 2023.  Total Vocal, with the dynamic Deke Sharon, rocked the house at Carnegie Hall at 2pm. The 7pm concert, Windsongs, at the newly opened David Geffen Hall, featured wind ensembles and orchestras from Illinois (New Trier High School) and California (Diamond Bar). This marathon concert (3 hours 20 minutes) affirmed that music is alive and well at the high school level. The elite of these programs brought their energy, dedication, and remarkable abilities to wow the large audience in attendance. 

Any regular reader of New York Concert Review will be well aware that this reviewer is a great fan of the wind ensemble repertoire (“band” if you prefer) and young players in particular. I might not be the oldest “band geek” in the world, but I am certainly entitled to emeritus status. 

Knowing the challenges that most school programs face (constantly changing personnel, the difficulties in getting full and balanced instrumentation, and the wide range of playing abilities, to name just a few), I have always adopted the attitude that “hardcore” reviewing is not helpful, but taking the role of a clinician is the most appropriate way to assess young ensembles. Spoiler alert: these schools need very little help from yours truly or anyone. Okay, there were a few intonation issues (fleeting) and minor ensemble attack issues, but this was playing at a level that far exceeds that of any average high school (and many colleges/universities for that matter!).

The first half of the concert featured the wind ensembles. The New Trier High School Wind Ensemble took the stage. The four works played were both challenging (Grade 4.5/5) and well-chosen for diversity of style. Matt Temple took the podium for the opening work, Shimmering Sunshine, by Kevin Day (b. 1996). Mr. Day writes of his work that, “ [it] depicts the sun whenever it is positioned at high noon, at its brightest point during the day … different shimmers of bright light that bounce around from instrument to instrument.” Not only does the sun shimmer, but it is a powerful force, and this was all captured to great effect. The winds shimmered, and they also shone with radiant energy, in what was an energetic opener. I was already smiling to myself thinking “they’ve got this!”

Elizabeth Bennett led the second piece, One Life Beautiful, by Julie Giroux (b. 1961). About the title, the composer writes “the title itself is a double-entendre which in one sense refers to the person to whom this work is dedicated, as in ‘one life’ that was beautifully lived. The other sense is a direct observation that having only one life is what makes life sacred, tragic, and so very precious.” Ms. Giroux calls her work impressionistic, but this listener found many hints of the opening section of Copland’s 1926 Piano Concerto, which would definitely not fit that designation. This is simply a beautiful piece, and it was played beautifully. I’m sure that many ensembles could “play” this work, but there was an underlying sensitivity here that was impressive. Here was true musicianship! 

Mr. Temple returned to the podium to conduct the final two pieces. Desert Sage, by Michael Markowski (b. 1986) was the first. Each of the four movements is based on a traditional song in the style of the singers associated with those songs. They are A Cowboy’s Life (after Skip Gorman), Goodbye, Old Paint (after Jess Morris and Charley Wind), Bury Me Not (after Carl Sprague and Sloane Matthews), and Rye Whiskey (after Elmo Newcomer). This was unbridled (pun intended!) fun, with wailing laments, drunken staggering,  and the hearty optimism of those intrepid souls who roamed the land. Special credit to the trumpets who bent the notes just enough to convey unsteadiness, without losing all tonal quality. Mr. Markowski was present and rose to accept the ovation for his excellent work, while offering his own applause to Mr. Temple and the ensemble. Ending the half was On the Mall, by Edwin Franko Goldman (1876-1956). Written in 1923 to commemorate the opening of a new band shell in Central Park , it was a nice “hat tip” to New York. It’s a rousing three-minute march (think John Philip Sousa) with a trio section that can be both sung and whistled. Mr. Temple encouraged the audience to participate- let’s just say that didn’t really pan out, mostly because no one had any hope of picking up the lyrics on a single hearing or having the tune stick hard enough to whistle after the same. No matter, it was a rousing ending to their selections, and the audience rewarded their stars with a well-earned extended and loud ovation.

While the stage was being reset for the Diamond Bar High School Wind Ensemble, I took some time to consider their program choice, the Third Symphony (Tragic), Op. 89, by James Barnes. My initial thought was “Wow, this is a risky proposition to only play one work. If it ‘misses’, then there is no chance to recover – and it is such a difficult work (Level 6, and on the high-end of that level) that many college ensembles wouldn’t attempt it.” Meanwhile, the players filed on the stage, and I thought I must be seeing double or triple- 6 Euphoniums! 6 tubas! 14 Trombones! 14 French Horns!  I sensed something special was in the air, and boy, was I right! 

I’m getting a bit ahead of myself, so a few words about the Third Symphony. It was commissioned by the United States Air Force Band in Washington, DC, and the composer was given carte blanche to write as he pleased, without any constraints of difficulty or style. Because, tragically, Mr. Barnes had to begin work right after his baby daughter Natalie had died, the work begins in the darkest depths of despair; it proceeds, however, to the bright light of joy and fulfillment.

The first movement Lento, opening with the extended tuba solo (no transplanted 3^rd trumpet player here!), captured the anguish and pain that any sensitive listener would have found emotionally wrenching. The sounds of anger reverberated around the hall when the one-hundred-twenty-six- strong ensemble let loose (My notes say HUGE sound – YES PLEASE!). The Scherzo had enough biting sarcasm and grotesque marches to make Prokofiev and Shostakovich blush. The Mesto (For Natalie) is a poignant imagination of life, had Natalie lived, with a final, loving goodbye. The Finale is a return to life and light, a celebration of new life (Mr. Barnes’s son Billy was born three days after he completed this work). 

Marie Santos led with a sure hand through this rollercoaster of a journey. Let’s take a moment to recognize the many soloists (Tuba, English Horn, Flute, and Alto Flute, to name a few) who played with great poise and skill. I’m still amazed after all this that this was a HIGH SCHOOL ensemble! This was mature playing, not only the notes, but the deeper meanings of this emotionally supercharged work were rendered with the expertise that one would associate with much older and more experienced ensembles. The audience erupted with a standing ovation.

After intermission, it was time for the orchestras to shine. As in the first half, the New Trier High School opened. Peter Rosheger took the podium and launched into the Overture from Ruslan and Ludmila by the father of Russian music,  Mikhail Glinka (1804-1857).  This well-loved work never fails to enchant with its ebullience, provided that the ensemble is accurate and the articulations clean and precise. It should have been evident to me by now that this was not going to be an issue. It was a delightful reading – there was not a hint of muddiness in the rapid passages, and the ensemble was razor-sharp. This was an auspicious start! 

The stage was then set for cello soloist Johannes Gray, who played the final two movements of the Violoncello Concerto in B-flat major by the “other” Haydn, younger brother Johann Michael Haydn (1737-1806). It must have been a thrill for Mr. Gray to be a featured soloist on the stage where the New York Philharmonic plays. He is undoubtedly talented. That said, I do not believe this particular work is the best showcase for his talent. He is to be commended for holding his own against the large forces (that Michael Haydn would have never dreamed of!) behind him. Kudos to Mr. Rosheger for (mostly) restraining the orchestra from overwhelming the soloist. 

Red Cape Tango by Michael Daugherty (b. 1954) followed the Haydn. It is the finale of his Metropolis Symphony, often performed (as it was here) as a stand-alone work. The “red cape” refers to Superman, of course, and the Red Cape Tango was composed after Supes’ epic battle with Doomsday. This is a quirky piece – think Dies Irae as a tango, with the percussion section getting rowdy, while the orchestra does a tug-o-war between legato and staccato. Daugherty called it a “musical bullfight.”   That’s a lot going on, and to pull it off requires not only an able conductor but focused musicians, who know both when to play it straight and when to let loose. These youngsters (and Mr. Rosheger) filled the bill to perfection, and ended their half in triumph. Another standing ovation was in order and was just as enthusiastic as it was for the wind ensemble. 

After another short break (as we neared three hours), the Diamond Bar Symphony Orchestra took the stage for the final work of the evening, three movements (I. Daydreams, passions IV. March to the Scaffold, and V. Dream of a witches’ sabbath) from Symphonie fantastique, by Hector Berlioz (1803-1869).  Guest conductor Dr. Pierre Long-Tao Tang, director of almost all things musical at Pepperdine, led the one-hundred-nineteen players (by now, I was “cured” of my amazement, but 21 cellos … wow!).

If there ever was a work that screamed for gargantuan forces, Symphonie fantastique is it. One thinks of that famous Grandville caricature of Berlioz conducting a massive orchestra, complete with cannons.  The three movements offered were well picked – the first to give some “flavor,” and the last two to showcase the frenzied nightmares that Berlioz conceived. Dr. Tang is not only an accomplished conductor, but it was evident that he had worked extensively with the orchestra. He knew when to lead, when to follow, and when to get out of the way. In full disclosure, I have never been a huge fan of this work, but I must say that the Diamond Bar Symphony Orchestra gave it as dynamic a performance as I’ve ever heard. I offer them the same admiration that I did for the wind ensemble. This was playing of a level that any ensemble of any age would be justly proud. The audience still had enough gas left in the tank to offer a final standing ovation. 

Congratulations to the directors of both schools, who have built up and developed superior music programs that would (and should) be the envy of high school music programs everywhere. As success begets success, I have every confidence that these programs will continue to dazzle for years to come. I would certainly love to hear them all again.

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

Deke Sharon, Conductor, Arranger, and Creative Director

Special Guests: Nikisha Williams, GQ, Jua Amir,

Featured Vocal Percussion: Winston Yang, Kaila Mullady, Mark Martin

Distinguished Concert Singers International

Stern Auditorium, Carnegie Hall, New York, NY

April 2, 2023

There are many reasons to be grateful to the presenter, Distinguished Concerts International New York (DCINY), but the concerts led by the magnetic Deke Sharon, Total Vocal, have to be somewhere at the top of the list. For those who have not heard of Deke Sharon, he is well-known as an arranger, singer, music director, and producer, and has been behind the explosive craze for updated a cappella singing groups over the past several decades (from 200 college a cappella groups when he started thirty-something years ago to over 3000 now). If you’ve seen the famous Pitch Perfect films, you’ve seen some of his work, but nothing compares to his live Total Vocal concerts at Carnegie Hall. For the record, this reviewer listens mainly to classical music, but as Deke Sharon leads choruses with his inimitably rhythmic dance across the stage, he becomes the music, and the magic is hard to resist (no matter how bad one’s day was or how crowded midtown was). The a cappella choirs he conducts – Sunday’s ranging from age 10 to 89, all backgrounds, national and international – clearly become the music as well – and, in succession, the audience. The chain reaction is something great.

One of Deke Sharon’s lasting contributions to the resurgence of a cappella singing was the addition of “vocal percussion” (or beatboxing) while he was still a student at Tufts. He met much resistance at first but persisted. This element seemed in special focus at this concert, from featured soloists to groups. From “mouth trumpet” noises, to beatboxing, to pure singing, the message is clear: human beings are instruments. That is undoubtedly part of the primal appeal of such a concert.

The program opened with a song of welcome, the traditional Hawaiian E Ku’ulei, sung with hula hand gestures, by the Keiki Kani Choir. It was a festive sight to see this singing group crowned with haku leis and the singing was heartwarming. The arrangement, by Camilla Corpuz Yamamoto (one of only three songs on the program not arranged by Deke Sharon), was lovely.

Don’t Start Now (Dua Lipa, Caroline Ailin, Emily Warren, and Ian Kirkpatrick) picked up the pace and found Deke Sharon bounding to the stage, joined by Seth Gustafson and Cameron Jarrahnejad as Vocal Percussion.  Along with speculating that Mr. Sharon could single-handedly solve the world’s energy crises if hooked up to a grid (and mentally substituting his name into every Chuck Norris meme I know), I was still trying to figure out what had happened to Supercalifragilisticexpialidocious, which had been programmed to start after the Hawaiian group (and apparently was switched) – but the classic from Mary Poppins (Robert B Sherman and Richard M. Sherman) followed seamlessly next and with zest.

Pompeii, by Dan Smith, introduced a more serious tone and in a style dubbed “Emo-pella” by Deke Sharon. It was given a dreamy feeling by soloists Carter Searcy, Ainsley Gulden, Sydney Porter, Sydne Carmon, Elise Fried, Cecilia Fulton, Hana Grimmer, Claire Long, Lauren Weiskopf, and Jiya Kumar.

Just the Way You Are/Just a Dream (from Pitch Perfect – Bruno Mars and Nelly) then brought out the forces of the El Segundo High School Chamber Choir, who did admirably. Though some choirs stayed (like the Hawaiian group, which was easily recognizable), there was some shifting of personnel, so one wasn’t entirely sure who all was on stage at certain points; one person we learned was singing, though, was Mr. Sharon’s daughter Juliana. In his typically hilarious commentary, he gave a shout-out to her but added that he is now working with her to be more punctual and thought she would benefit from hearing that advice from a few thousand people. Sure enough, he got us all to say, “Be on time, Juliana” – followed by much laughter and some blushing (and later “I love you, Juliana”).

It was a treat next to hear a familiar song from the early ’80’s, I love a Rainy Night (David Malloy, Eddie Rabbit, and Even Stevens). With beatboxer Winston Yang giving it a background (and some audience participation), it hit the spot. By the time we heard He Ain’t Heavy, He’s My Brother (Bob Russell and Bobby Scott), the beatbox sound seemed to have been over-miked a bit – or the chorus just needed to be more, but the balance was a bit off.  Following that came Memories (Adam Levine), essentially a rewrite of Pachelbel’s Canon in D, which became something of an anthem in the pandemic’s virtual chorus boom. It was given a spirited performance.

Love on Top (Beyoncé Knowles, Terius Nash, Shea Taylor) offers special challenges in the higher and higher range demanded, but the featured group Squad Harmonix was more than up to it. Only True Colors (Tom Kelly, Bill Steinberg) was left before intermission, and it was sung with a gorgeous tone by Nikisha Williams, who was able to escape for a spell from playing Eliza in a national Hamilton tour, our good fortune and Hamilton‘s temporary loss (except, as Deke Sharon quipped, for her understudy).

In lieu of an intermission, there was simply a “pause” listed (to set up new chairs for more choristers), and even the pause was filled with more beatboxing, so there wasn’t an idle moment. The team of Kaila Mullady, and Mark Martin wowed the audience with their antics and many sounds that may have expanded what most people understand as “vocal percussion.”

After the pause, we heard Aint Too Proud to Beg (Norman Whitfield, Eddie Holland), introducing some of the Motown vibe. Soloists Julia Walton, Walker Van Gilder, Kayla Mendes, Annette Palmer, Anya Small, Elaine Sedgwick, and Ava Stoddard sounded in fine form.  You Make My Dreams (Daryl Hall, John Oates, Sara Allen) followed, in a style embraced by what is apparently called “Yacht Rock” (who knew?), but whatever party was on this boat was a fun one.  

Speaking of parties, the next selection introduced special guest quartet GQ singing Pity Party (Aubrey Logan, arr. Patrick McAlexander) – and as the lyrics make clear, a pity party is not the party you want to attend, though it seems like a barrel of fun to sing. GQ is an updated all-female barbershop quartet and a cappella group that has achieved great success, including being called the #4 barbershop quartet in the world by the Barbershop Harmony Society (which only recently opened its doors to women). If the term “barbershop quartet” has you picturing four mustached men with bow ties and hats singing Sweet Adeline, think again. Their rendition of Pity Party was hilarious, and expertly sung by Amanda Sandroni, Ali Hauger, Katie Gillis, and Katie Macdonald.

Showing their more serious side, GQ then sang Timshel (Marcus Mumford, Ben Lovett, Ted Dwayne, Winston Marshall), a wistful song set to a hypnotic accompaniment in this Katie Gillis/Katie Macdonald arrangement.

Cecilia (Paul Simon) took us back to Deke Sharon arrangements, and next was the very special Teach Your Children, dedicated to the recently departed David Crosby (Crosby, Stills, Nash, and Young), for whom Deke Sharon had opened many years ago.

Crimson & Slateentered as the next featured ensemble, and they gave a sleek, taut rendition of Surface Pressure (from Encanto, Lin-Manuel Miranda). Kiss from a Rose (Henry Samuel) followed with the golden tones of special guest Jua Amir and a fine new beatboxer who was not credited in the program but whose name was regrettably announced somewhat inaudibly.  Next up was Rhythm of Love (Tim Lopez), in an arrangement categorized by Deke Sharon as “Barber-pop,” and it was done to a tee. Soloists Laurin Smith, Anya Small, Katie Duncombe, Beth Rhodes, Fanny Dario, Maryline Kaim, Crystal Petit, Gemma Henbest, and Helen Kay Tierney pulled it off well.

The grande finale of the concert was I Wish (Stevie Wonder), given such an infectious rhythmic spirit that even the rather staid, well-coiffed older woman near me popped out of her seat to dance, waving her hands to the music. Choristers entered from behind to dance down the aisles, and one pulled my elder friend out of her row to dance with them. The dancing continued through the “encore” of The Lion Sleeps Tonight (Solomon Linda/George David Weiss), a Deke Sharon specialty.   There were hugs all around from the sheer joy – and it wasn’t even Woodstock, just music. Surely there must be a way to keep the chain reaction going in this needful world. Juliana, do something.

Participating Groups were: El Segundo High School Chamber Choir, New Trier High School Wind Symphony & Symphony Orchestra, My Pop Choir, Diamond Bar High School Wind Ensemble & Diamond Bar High School Symphony Orchestra, Diamond Bar High School Wind Ensemble & Symphony Orchestra, Mt. Sinai High School Jazz Choir, Crimson & Slate, Keiki Kani Choir, Mariemont High School Choir, Squad Harmonix, Vocal Synergy, Pop Voices, Singing Earth Divine, Westport Youth Choir, and Vocal Academy@St. James.

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

Asiya Korepanova, pianist

Rachmaninoff 150^th Birthday Concert: Part II

Mary Flagler Cary Hall, The DiMenna Center for Classical Music, New York, NY

April 1, 2023, 8 PM

As anyone who loves great piano music and great pianists probably knows, 2023 marks the 150th birthday of the great pianist, composer, and conductor Sergei Rachmaninoff. Many of the world’s pianistic luminaries have been and will be celebrating his music all year – even more than usual – but the actual birthday comes only once, April 1 (though Rachmaninoff was known interestingly to celebrate it on April 2, as his grave is marked at Kensico as well). On late notice, I was assigned to an all-Rachmaninoff concert celebration and despite a tight schedule jumped at it – both for the repertoire and for what I had heard of the pianist Asiya Korepanova and her ambitious programming – though I had never actually heard her play.

Based on her programming alone, Asiya Korepanova is a force. Many musicians may have seen photos of her looking rather like a mermaid with golden hair stretching for miles, but what not everyone knows is that her repertoire stretches for many more miles. As her biography states, she is “the only pianist currently performing Liszt’s 24 Etudes as a single program, and one of the few to possess a concerto repertoire of over 60 works.” In 2023 she has been engaged in a monumental project performing Rachmaninoff’s complete solo piano music in six recitals as a featured artist at the Friends of Chamber Music of Miami. For those who know Rachmaninoff’s music, there should be a long pause here to contemplate what that means: the two fiercely demanding sonatas, two large sets of preludes, two large sets of etudes, two large-scale sets of variations, the Moments Musicaux, and numerous smaller works. A fair number of pianists will play them all eventually in a lifetime, but to perform them all in one year?  On top of the feat of performing all of these, Ms. Korepanova (as if running out of challenges) added to this concert her own transcription for solo piano of Rachmaninoff’s Sonata for Cello and Piano, Op. 19, one of this reviewer’s favorite works in its original form, so a huge draw to attend this concert. How would it sound minus the actual cello? Will it become a new gift to the world of virtuoso transcriptions? These questions will be revisited later, but we’ll move on first to the program, scheduled to include also the Variations on a Theme by Corelli, Op. 42, and the Moments Musicaux, Op 16.

In a change from the printed program order (originally starting with the transcription, then Op. 42 and Op. 16), Ms. Korepanova announced that she would start with the Corelli Variations, as she found the opening theme to be like a prayer. Indeed it is, and she made it more so, honoring its hallowed, translucent spirit. Much of what she did following the theme was also just as one wants to hear in this magnificent set. She has a superb pianistic technique, as one would expect from her programming, but there was much more. She projected nuances and harmonic surprises wonderfully in the quirky third variation and elsewhere, and one was reminded that pianists who compose are often going to delve more deeply into the music and with more interesting insights than others. Ms. Korepanova, as her biography states, studied composition with Albert Leman, chair of the composition department of the Moscow Conservatory and a student of Dmitri Shostakovich. Along with her growing number of transcriptions, she has composed many original works, as well as multimedia projects featuring her poetry and art.

To be balanced about things, composers have another trait quite often, which is to hold to a masterful overview while letting slip what they might consider details. Though there were wonderful inner highlights in Variation 13, for example, Variation 12 was rough. The beastly penultimate variations were not altogether tamed either, though the spirit was fierce, just as it should be before the poignant close. Other minor reservations included a sense that a fuller sound was needed for the melodic top voice in the D-flat variation, even if by that point the interest lay more in the harmonic treatment. A certain amount of that issue may have been due to the hall piano, which seemed not entirely even.

Onward to the Moments Musicaux, Ms. Korepanova set a contemplative tone for the B-flat minor Andantino that was just right. There were moments later in the piece of some excessively blurred pedaling, both in melodic sections and passagework –  and where the theme returns woven into a lacework of sixteenths, there was more of a pastel blend than the clarity that makes it glisten – but these may be differences of conception. Overall the set offered a huge spectrum of moods and colors and was quite impressive on such an already demanding program.

Minor glitches in the opening piece were handled with the skill of a master improviser, but these were a bit more distracting in the Allegretto in E-flat minor and the Presto in E minor; both, though, had the emotional power and sweep to carry the day. The Andante cantabile B minor was close to perfection. Here again there we heard Ms. Korepanova’s gift for “connecting dots” in wonderful inner voice surprises. The Adagio sostenuto in D-flat was serenely expressive.

Though the final Maestoso in C Major also had its unclear moments, it ended the first half with a persuasively heroic spirit. For complete disclosure, this final Moment is not a favorite of this reviewer, and it alone has prevented the reviewer from performing this group as a set rather than as two or three gems at a time. When one recalls that Rachmaninoff released this set for publication supposedly because he was short of money, this final movement offers possible evidence of that, seemingly dashed off, with flourishes that sound facile compared to the rest of the set. As much as I admire the bravery of those who take on the whole Op. 16, a virtual hexad of musical challenges, most performances of all six have not helped my aversion to the “boxed set” mentality – and that is from a diehard devotee of Rachmaninoff.

After intermission came the long-awaited transcription of the Sonata for Cello and Piano by Ms.  Korepanova. Before playing, she spoke about the piece, her early love of it, and many subsequent performances, along with the questions she has been asked about it (such as why is she being “mean” to cellists, isn’t there enough piano repertoire for her, and is she nuts?). Frankly, based on the fact that many pianists have for decades referred to it jokingly as “a piano sonata with cello obbligato” a transcription seems not an outlandish idea at all. Thankfully Ms. Korepanova was not dissuaded from writing it and was in fact encouraged by her piano teacher, Santiago Rodriguez, who asked her (if I heard her story correctly amid some noise), “what are you waiting for?” Every musician needs someone to ask that.

Any lingering doubts about the transcription were rendered moot by the appeal of the performance itself.  Amazingly, Ms. Korepanova managed not only to incorporate the cello lines but also to maintain much of their distinctiveness overall, amid the piano textures. Though there is hardly a true substitute for a sustaining instrument (and the potential for vibrato), the piano can convey almost anything (entire Beethoven Symphonies, for example). Ms. Korepanova demonstrated superb control of timbres so that repeated themes did not sound like mere repetition but like the passing of ideas to another instrument.  Sometimes she bolstered cello lines with octaves, and sometimes she reined in the dynamics of the original piano part to a surprising degree (which might be disconcerting to lovers of the original –  but tweaking has to happen to make the proportions work).  All in all, it was a miraculous achievement.

The most salient drawback I expected from this transcription was the missing “two-ness” of it – the exchange of the glorious third movement theme, and the convergence of two human forces towards the end – but these were remarkably approximated by this single pianist. Though the actual playing may have flagged in energy towards the end, that was perhaps to be expected in such a big program.  Incidentally,  Ms. Korepanova played this work from her own score off of a digital screen (having played all prior solo works from memory), and that score is now available for purchase. www.asiyakorepanova.com

Though cellists will at no point stop playing (nor audiences stop clamoring for) the original masterpiece, Ms. Korepanova’s transcription makes a worthy addition to the virtuoso literature. In addition, beyond the sheer joy of playing it, a pianist can enjoy a performance free of intonation trouble, ensemble issues, extra airfare, and splitting artist fees! It seems fitting to include here Ms. Korepova’s comments on the transcription process from her website as follows: “The process of making a transcription is akin to the most consuming and passionate process of taming a wild animal… And when you finally find that all of it is possible, you are the happiest creature in the world.”  Ms. Korepanova should indeed be happy. Her standing ovation earned her large audience two encores, Rachmaninoff’s Romance (composed at age 14) and the Elegie in E-flat minor, Op. 3, No. 1, both beautifully played. Brava!

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

Anastasiya Naplekova, Piano

Rachmaninoff 150^th Birthday Concert: Part I

Mary Flagler Cary Hall, The DiMenna Center for Classical Music, New York, NY

April 1, 2023, 3 PM

The April Fool’s Saturday sky wore a stormy countenance, as if to one-up Sergei Rachmaninoff’s own six-foot scowl, immortalized in nearly every photo of the composer. Yet what a happy occasion it was, no matter which calendar one uses to figure out his actual birthday: April 1, April 2, March something?

A two-concert marathon of Rachmaninoff’s solo piano music was offered by the 23-year-old Florida-based not-for-profit called Piano Lovers. (A second recital at 8 PM will also be covered in these pages.). The DiMenna Center’s Mary Flagler Cary Hall was indeed full of devoted piano lovers. What a treat they had; I sincerely hope that everyone there realized what a glorious gift they were being given, at the hands of pianist Anastasiya Naplekova.

The Founder of Piano Lovers, Abram Kreeger, tried a little too hard in his opening remarks to prove that Rachmaninoff’s non-concerto works are neglected in recital, something I have not found to be the case. No matter. The composer himself, one of the most capable virtuosi ever to survive into the recording era was constantly split between having to make a living as a touring virtuoso, and wanting to be taken seriously for his compositions in an era that was sprinting through “isms” faster than a Mendelssohn Scherzo.

It is always a pleasure to encounter another pianist I have never heard (no preconceptions!). Ms. Naplekova represents nearly everything I admire, enjoy, and stand for musically. Where to begin? Let’s talk about her stunningly low seated posture at the keyboard (let gravity do the work), her economy of motion, beautiful tone at all tempi and volumes, and her incredible good taste. It is as though she scraped off decades of sentimental excess to reveal the true expression and proportion that Rachmaninoff set down in his works.

Ms. Naplekova dived right in with three of the Morceaux de Salon, Op. 10: a melting Barcarolle, the Mélodie, and the one best-known work: Humoresque. Immediately one was struck by the technical achievement needed to “disappear” into the fabric of the music itself. There was no grandstanding here- she was even reticent in accepting the tumultuous applause that greeted every group on her program.

A generous helping of Preludes from both Op. 23 (Nos. 4, 5) and 32 (Nos. 3, 5, 10, 12) continued the immensely favorable impression I got. The G major from Op. 32 was ravishing. Once one has heard Rachmaninoff’s own recordings, one realizes how simple his own approach was, clear line, structural planning, everything leading to what he called “the point” (which is not necessarily the loudest place). Only the finest pianists, totally in charge of their equipment, can even come close to revealing these things. I marveled at Ms. Naplekova’s complete preparation of every note: she was “there” before she needed to be “there.” Yet nothing sounded stale or over-planned.

A blistering rendition of the Second Sonata (I believe it was the revised version) sounded ever so natural, with thundering climaxes (never bangy!) and tender lyricism vying for supremacy.

Two transcriptions received the golden treatment, lest we forget what a master Rachmaninoff was at those: Tchaikovsky’s Lullaby and the celebrated Scherzo from Mendelssohn’s A Midsummer Night’s Dream. The Tchaikovsky was perfection, and let me tell you, you can’t imagine (unless you’re a pianist yourself) what was involved in Ms. Naplekova’s Scherzo, to get it to sound light and elfin amid the thousands of notes.

Finally, five (Nos. 1, 2, 4, 5, 9) of the Etudes-Tableaux, Op. 39 showed the full range of Ms. Naplekova’s talents. Although they are “pictures,” Rachmaninoff shied away from direct programmatic stories for them. And they certainly abound in the type of technical “etude” quandaries that few prior to Rachmaninoff were capable of imagining.

As an encore, yes, Ms. Naplekova presented the “boulder” that had attached itself to Rachmaninoff during his entire life: the Prelude in C-sharp minor, Op. 3, sometimes referred to as the “Bells of Moscow.” When one has created one’s greatest hit early in a career, it does remind me of those present-day pop music stars whose fans don’t want to hear the new album, rather the old hit(s) that made them famous. I suppose one must find a special place in one’s psyche to be grateful indeed for having created such a hit.

More to the point, we must be grateful that there is a generation of pianists coming up, exemplified by Ms. Naplekova, with superb technique harnessed to a natural sense of expression, capable of revealing this important, passionately felt area of the repertoire.

Frank Daykin

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

Lina Yoo Min Lee, pianist

A recording available for streaming via iTunes, YouTube, Spotify, Amazon

March 26, 2023

An excellent recording of piano music was sent my way this week, all played by Lina Yoo Min Lee, and it constitutes a distinguished introduction to this young pianist. Dr. Lee (D.M.A.)  enjoys a versatile career as a soloist, chamber musician, and educator, having performed worldwide (mainly in the US, Spain, and her native Korea), and she currently serves on the piano faculty at the University of Wisconsin-Madison. As her recording is available to stream on iTunes, Spotify, Amazon, and YouTube, you don’t need to take my word for it but can listen as you wish.

The repertoire includes some well-known and slightly lesser-known piano music by Beethoven, Mendelssohn, Chopin, Liszt, and Prokofiev. Beethoven’s Sonata in D major, Op. 10, No. 3, is hardly neglected, but with such great works, good musicians cannot simply bypass them, even while forging unique paths. The same can be said for Chopin’s Étude, Op. 10, No. 4, in C-sharp minor, Liszt’s Ballade No. 2, and Mendelssohn’s Variations Serieuses, Op. 54, all on this recording; Prokofiev’s Sonata No. 1, however, is often ignored (in favor of the composer’s later – and greater- Sonatas), so it was refreshing to find it here as the album’s final work. If memory serves, the last time I heard it performed live was in a brilliant New York performance by Nadejda Vlaeva in 2009 – so it was time for another.

Apart from the more traditional Western canon, Dr. Lee has also been working to promote new music and repertoire that she considers “historically and systematically marginalized.” In that spirit, her latest piano solo recital in New York (October 2022, Weill Hall at Carnegie Hall) featured music by women: Secret & Glass Gardens by Jennifer Higdon,Gustave Le Gray by Caroline Shaw, Small Noise and Great Noise by Hyo-shin Na and Piano Sonata No.5 by Galina Ustavolskaya. There will be a release of her performances of these works in the fall of 2023. Based on her current recording that should be a release worth anticipating eagerly.

Meanwhile, returning to the works at hand (all recorded live, we are told, pre-COVID), there is much to admire. Beethoven’s Sonata in D major, Op. 10, No. 3,  opens the collection and is given a polished performance here, one that would be hard to criticize unless one had heard over a half-century’s worth of interpretations of it. There is a substantial performance history with this work, as one of the most magnificent piano sonatas by Beethoven (though still “early” – dating from 1798) – and according to many, among the greatest piano sonatas by anyone.

Dr. Lee’s rendition has much to offer, though some personal reservations included an overall feeling of slight haste. The first telltale sign was the omission of the repeat in the exposition. In a world catering to attention deficits, it is understandable to cut repeats on occasion in live recitals, but a recording can be the ultimate opportunity to let the music breathe. One also wanted just a bit more time in general – in the first movement to allow the articulations to have more definition and its noble structure more heft, and in the second movement, Largo e mesto (a rare use of this tragic designation), just a bit more depth of struggle than was projected. It was lovely playing in so many ways, but some dramatic changes of harmony and register were effected with a promptness that verged on the metronomic. On a more positive note, the Menuetto movement was played with sheer delight in its playful articulations and was a joy to hear. There were also no first or second repeats here, but any beginnings of complaints got lost in the sheer charm of it all. The final Rondo was also excellent. Dr. Lee’s extreme metrical precision here (despite judicious ritardandi where marked) simply underscored Beethoven’s inherent rhythmic play, so it was a wonderful change from performances where fussiness ruins the metric framework. In summary, there was much to enjoy in this performance.

Chopin’s Étude, Op. 10, No. 4, was all it should be, with superb fingerwork. Tempo-wise it was solid as a rock, with just enough increase in momentum towards the end to convey an adrenaline rush.

Mendelssohn’s Variations Serieuses, Op. 54, stood out as my favorite of the offerings. The theme was projected with admirable solemnity, and the pacing and balance were well-considered throughout. Though I still wanted more breathing at the ends of long phrases and occasionally at harmonic surprises deserving special attention, it was a winning performance. Her momentum was energizing in Variations 7, 8, and 9. The fugato in Variation 10 was well-voiced and lucid, and in Variation 11, Dr. Lee took time to savor melodic peaks just as one had hoped. Variation 13 had especially good staccato articulations, and the set finished with great emotional power. Brava!

Liszt Ballade No. 2 in B minor was excellent as well.  Composed in a grand operatic style (the same year as the composer’s monumental Sonata in B minor), it offers considerable technical challenges for a pianist, but none were beyond Dr. Lee’s abilities. She has tremendous octaves, runs, chordal playing, and much more. Occasionally one felt she could have “lived” each phrase more – i.e., that certain repeated gestures warranted re-conceiving and re-experiencing, rather than sounding like clones of prior parts; that said, Dr. Lee’s Ballade interpretation certainly holds its head up with the many fine ones available.

Finally, we heard Prokofiev’s single-movement Sonata No. 1  in F minor, the composer’s Opus 1. Composed when Prokofiev was just 18, it is worth getting to know, even if only for a historical perspective on the youth of a major composer. As a pianist, it can be hard to know how to approach this piece, since familiarity with Prokofiev’s later works predisposes one to more biting angular sounds and phrases, and yet this work billows with Romanticism. Ms. Lee strikes a good balance in which one can hear the young Prokofiev and the mature master all at once, with plenty of bravura.

In conclusion, this is a collection of performances worth hearing. It most likely will not disappoint listeners who love these works – and in some cases, they may become favorites.

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

Santiago High School Choirs (Corona, CA)

Santiago High School Treble Ensemble; Santiago High School Combined Women’s Choir; Santiago High School Madrigals
Karen Garrett, Director; Alexis Ohmar, Piano
East Brunswick High School Orchestra (NJ)
Arvin Gopal, Director

Stern Auditorium at Carnegie Hall, New York, NY

March 18, 2023

I should be, and in fact I am, a cheerleader for all things involving young people and music education and participation, and all the benefits they bring. Therefore, I may appear somewhat Scrooge-like in some of my less flattering comments below, but I wish to take nothing away from the hard work and enthusiasm these high school youth and their leaders put into their programs. Two disparate types of music (choral, string orchestra) from opposite ends of the country (between Riverside and Anaheim CA, and, just a few miles down the NJ turnpike) split the bill on Saturday evening.

Was it a sort of metaphorical Saint Patrick’s hangover that caused such a low (though highly vocal) turnout? Or was it the constant clomp-clomp of the Carnegie ushers swooping down the aisles to chide the omnipresent photo and video takers during the performance that detracted from my ability to surrender to the performance fully?

First on the program were the various combinations of choral activity from Santiago High School in California, ably led by Karen Garrett and their pianist, the sometimes too firm Alexis Ohmar. The Treble Ensemble, a group of twenty-six young women, shone best in the Hassler motet Cantate Domino. Elsewhere, in folksong and Spanish contemporary pieces, their sound and diction were diffuse, I believe mainly because of their odd positioning on the risers. With so few singers placed so far from each other, it is much more difficult to produce one cohesive ensemble sound. Perhaps they wished to appear more sizeable than they are, but this issue also affected the other two Santiago groups.

The Combined Women’s Choir was at its finest in Beverly A. Patton’s Exaudi Laudate!, though it lost a dimension without the TB portions of its original SATB choral layout.

Finally, the Madrigals (thirty-five singers, with the addition of male voices) was the most successful of the three groups. They sang a wide range of material, from Viadana to spiritual, with focus, diction, and color, even in the sometimes overwrought Lamentations of Jeremiah by Z. Randall Stroope. After all, isn’t Jeremiah himself somewhat overwrought?

After intermission and the customary massive stage re-orientation, the gigantic East Brunswick High School Orchestra took the stage. I am using their billing, but I must state that this was a group of 170 (!) string players only (violin 1 and 2, viola, cello, double bass). Why they don’t call themselves a string orchestra is beyond me. They were led in style by Arvin Gopal, an experienced, formally trained violist (inner voices!), in music by Sibelius, Warlock, Ippolitov-Ivanov, Mozart, and others.

Sibelius’ Andante festivo opened their half of the program, and it must have been the best rehearsed work, or perhaps something about its composition makes it more forgiving, for the massed string sound was luscious and very Sibelius-appropriate, in his own amplification from string quartet to full string orchestra, despite the lack of triumphal thwack by the timpani.

Unfortunately, the same cannot be said for the other selections. An orchestra of one hundred seventy musicians is larger than any currently functioning professional symphony orchestra in the world, including ALL the sections (woodwind, brass, percussion). Here, the valiant East Brunswick youth lumbered their way through three sections of Warlock’s delightful Renaissance pastiche Capriol Suite, which lacked the needed delicacy and transparency. Hofeldt’s The Journey and Silva’s Forest Incantations  didn’t make a strong impression on this listener.

However, they did achieve success in Ippolotov-Ivanov’s Procession of the Sardar from Caucasian Sketches. This impression was immediately undone by the final offering, the Finale from Mozart’s Symphony No. 41 in C major, K. 551, known as the “Jupiter.” This work is for full (but SMALL) orchestra, and it was played at half the requisite tempo, with poor intonation and realization of the miraculous polyphony therein, based on its initial theme, a Gregorian chant fragment known as Confiteor (I confess to almighty God… that I have sinned).

I won’t go as far as to say that they “sinned,” but my advice to East Brunswick, which obviously has the means to fund such a huge string orchestra, is to invest equally in woodwind, brass, and percussion programs, and conduct rigorous auditions to create an ensemble of manageable size.

None of my carping can reduce the obvious pride and happiness shown by the parents of the young people involved, whose tumultuous ovations had nothing to do with any fussy reservations on the part of this, or any, critic.

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

JingCi Lu, piano

KNS Classical- available to stream on iTunes, Spotify, Amazon, YouTube

This past Valentine’s Day, pianist JingCi Liu gave us a lovely musical valentine, in the form of an album dedicated to women composers. Perhaps someday we can stop saying women before the word composer, but I understand how when one gender has been dominant and exclusionary, some redress is called for. The title of the album is Portrait of Beauty, one of those titles that doesn’t say much, but here is rescued by the quality of the playing.

For me, the real discovery is the first work, the first (of three) keyboard sonatas (E major) by Marianna von Martinez, a classical period composer, and that rarity—a woman allowed to pursue education and artistic goals—to a point. Imagine having Haydn, Metastasio, Porpora as housemates and teachers, and Mozart as a drop-in guest in Vienna. I believe this may be the first recording of one of her sonatas. Ms. Liu plays it with crisp, stylish articulation in the two quick movements, and lovely lyricism in the slow movement, where the music is very reminiscent of Haydn.

The five middle composers are: one concert pianist, wife of a famous composer (Clara Schumann), one neglected French “salon” composer (Cécile Chaminade), one recognized Amereican composer (Amy Beach), and two French sisters, one Prix de Rome winner who died too young (Lili Boulanger) and the other who devoted her life to the memory of her sister and to generations of pedagogy (Nadia Boulanger).

Clara Schumann’s Soirées musicales (1836) are her own attempt to do what she was constantly exhorting her husband to do: create recital pieces that are not too demanding (read: alienating) for the audience. The Beidermeyer aesthetic of coziness is present in the diminutive but precisely characterized pieces, all but the first sharing genre names closely identified with Chopin. Here, Ms. Liu’s touch becomes meltingly romantic. The Notturno’s main theme was “borrowed” by Robert Schumann, the two of them often communicated with each other prior to their “forbidden” marriage via musical themes and quotations. Ms. Liu makes all of Clara’s notational eccentricities/innovations sound absolutely natural. You would never mistake a mazurka, ballade, or polonaise by Clara Schumann for one by Chopin, but Ms. Liu makes as persuasive a case for them as I can imagine. The second mazurka in the set (piece no. 5) was directly quoted by Robert Schumann as the beginning theme of his Davidsbündlertänze, also his Op. 6. The whole is played with an appropriate intimacy and restraint.

Although Chaminade died in 1944, most of her music sounds like it was composed one hundred years prior; alas, such is the fate of retro-inspired composers, though I for one, enjoy her considerable output immensely. The Toccata, Op. 39, a delightful study in lightness and speed, ought to be on more high-school music competition requirement lists. Pierrette, Air de Ballet, Op. 41, is a perky, eminently choreographable trifle. I do wish Ms. Liu had chosen one of Chaminade’s lovely slower, lyrical moments, such as Automne, for greater contrast and balance.

Amy Beach also died in 1944, and similar to Chaminade, she has that backward-looking/sounding romantic-era style, though she did manage to find some quite original sonorities and tonal experimentation. A successful pianist, she managed to wrestle her way to recognition as a composer with larger-scale art music such as symphonies and masses, in the male-dominated classical world, while also having to fight her mother and husband for control of her own career. Dreaming, the third of the four Sketches, Op. 15, is preceded by an epigram from Victor Hugo: “You speak to me from the depth of a dream…” Ms. Liu delivers it in truly dreamy style; she has an ability to hold on to long sustained notes and create a true legato.

Nadia Boulanger was better known as a creator of other composers than as a composer herself. Her professorship at the American Conservatoire in Fontainbleau (known as the “Boulangerie”) attracted hundreds of aspiring students, many from the US. She had a unique ability to allow their individual voices to thrive, even if they weren’t aligned with her typically Fauré/Stravinsky esthetic (now there’s a contrast!). Vers la vie nouvelle (Toward the new life) is a completely un-ironic statement that might have been made by any of the women represented on this album; in this case written one year before the death of her beloved sister, 1917 (see below), a blessing at times dark and sinister and an envoi to the beyond.

Lili Boulanger was the first female winner of the Prix de Rome in its (then) 110-year history. Sadly, the frail, chronically ill young woman was to succumb to intestinal tuberculosis at age twenty-four, leaving behind a short body of work that undoubtedly would have grown and matured. The three pieces for piano, two concerning gardens, D’un vieux jardin and D’un jardin clair, and the Cortège (originally for violin and piano) all date from 1914. They demonstrate some harmonic exploration, but also hover somewhere between Schumann and Scriabin at times.

Caroline Shaw is the only living composer on the album, and a multi-prize winning one at that (Pulitzer, Grammy). Gustave Le Gray was premiered in 2012. Le Gray (1820-1884) was a French painter and an innovative photographer in the earliest days of that medium, exercising great influence on those who came after. If Caroline Shaw “says” the piece is about Le Gray, we must surely take her at her word. But which aspect of his life is contained therein? His student years, innovations, success, financial ruin, abandonment of family, adventures in the middle-East, death in Cairo? No matter, this, the longest work on the album, has the texture of most of the other works, nocturnal, sustained, playing to Liu’s strengths. There is a direct quote of the entire Mazurka, Op. 17, No. 4, by Chopin, right in the middle of the work—Le Gray was 29 when the composer died, but the famous daguerreotype of the sick composer was not by Le Gray, rather Louis-Auguste Bisson. This extended quote absolves Shaw of the need to compose a large section of her own piece, however, the payoff comes when she begins improvising with the actual ending of the Mazurka, signaling some sort of emotional shift.

The recorded sound is beautiful and the dynamic palette is such that an intimate mood is created and featured. This isn’t a “barnstorming” album, so if you’re looking for technical fireworks, look elsewhere. If however you, as do I, appreciate the sort of quiet virtuosity that involves control and sustained intimacy, this would be perfect for you.

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

Alexei Tartakovsky, Pianist

Baisley Powell Elebash Recital Hall, The Graduate Center (CUNY), New York, NY

March 17, 2023

After the concert I heard at the Graduate Center Friday, March 17th, I would say that Alexei Tartakovsky is one of the finest young pianists that I’ve heard in recent years. He took on a fiercely difficult program which included Liszt’s transcription of Beethoven’s Sixth Symphony (Pastoral) as the first half and after intermission Schumann’s Geistervariationen (“Ghost” Variations in E-flat, WoO 24), and the complete Etudes-Tableaux Op. 33 of Rachmaninoff. In it all, one heard not just the command of a master pianist, but the depth of a true musician.

Though this concert was held at the CUNY Graduate Center, where Mr. Tartakovsky is pursuing his  Doctor of Musical Arts (DMA) degree, it would have been equally at home at Carnegie Hall or the Concertgebouw. For now, it represented a partial fulfillment of the requirements of his program, for which he is currently the recipient of a Graduate Center Fellowship. His playing (like his insightful program notes) bodes well for his completion of the degree at the very least, and one expects much more. He has been a student of Richard Goode, having also studied with Matti Raekallio, Nina Lelchuk, Boris Slutsky, Boris Berman, and Horacio Gutierrez. He completed his undergraduate studies at Juilliard and Queens College (CUNY), his MM from Peabody, and an Artists Diploma from the Yale School of Music. His biography reflects success in several important competitions, including as Laureate of the 2021 International Beethoven Competition in Bonn, but he is much more than a mere competition winner.

His program opened with Liszt’s transcription of Beethoven’s Symphony No. 6. There are now quite a few pianists who play one or two of the Liszt transcriptions of Beethoven Symphonies, and some who have played all nine (including notably Cyprien Katsaris, Idil Biret, who was the first to record them all – plus several others); in live concert, though, I’ve rarely heard a pianist play a single one of these and emerge without some “wear and tear.” Though countless performers exploit Liszt’s more idiomatic works to sound (as the joke goes) “like better pianists than they actually are,” those same pianists get bruised by these symphony transcriptions and end up sounding not quite as good as they should be. Though they are amazingly well-written for piano (created by Liszt, after all!), the demands are simply too gargantuan for most.

The Beethoven-Liszt Pastoral, as with the other eight transcriptions, requires the pianistto capture each instrumental timbre as the focus rapidly shifts and to pass voices unobtrusively between hands. Mr. Tartakovsky’s ability here was remarkable right from the first movement, Awakening of cheerful feelings on arrival in the countryside, and memorably so in the more serene second movement, Scene by the brook. All through this juggling of demands, one must maintain supreme control and consistency of tempo and mood, and he did just that. There are the more obvious challenges, from the clarity of the thirds near the opening of the piece to the rapid octaves in the third movement (the Merry gathering of country folk), but Mr. Tartakovsky was undaunted and addressed most of them better than I’ve heard before. He unleashed his force with fire in the brilliant fourth movement (Thunder, Storm), the most quintessentially Lisztian of the five. By intermission, the audience could only join the fifth movement’s shepherds in Thankful feelings.

From even the best pianists there are inevitably some unflattering flubs and glitches without the help of a recording editor, so there has to be not just great skill, but passionate commitment, even bravery to perform them live. Mr. Tartakovsky has these qualities and more. Though he was not exempt from the occasional smudge himself, he was infallible in matters of memory and was able to convey all the intricacies of Beethoven’s orchestration via Liszt, while projecting a powerful overall conception of each movement. It was a thrilling performance.

What originally had this listener most eager to hear this program, though, was the set of Variations in E-flat, WoO 24, one of Schumann’s last works, a profound and relatively neglected one – lacking the popular appeal of say the Symphonic Etudes or Schumann’s more youthful sets. It is based on a theme so dear to the composer that it had found its way (with certain differences) into several other works, including the slow movement of his Violin Concerto. The theme is so moving that one wants simply to hear it by itself over and over; variations can be a way of giving listeners their “fill” of such beauty, but things don’t always work out that way. For whatever reason (pursuit of balance or variety perhaps) these variations in most performances I’ve heard have had a dilutive rather than deepening effect on one’s recollection of the theme; Mr. Tartakovsky, however, drew the listener’s focus to the musical heart. The variations naturally radiated from it and looked back toward it.

If one were to find a reservation about this recital, it would be a non-pianistic observation that arose repeatedly. Mr. Tartakovsky feels the music so intensely that occasionally his magnificent phrases are accompanied by quite audible breathing, occasional humming, and other vocal sounds. Having grown up with the grunts and moans of Casals and having felt that I would still not give up any of his recordings, it is still good to try for the best of all possible worlds (and such habits can intensify with time so should be curbed). With playing so wonderful that several of us were ready to do battle with two bearers of flowers rattling their noisy wrappings (yes – skip the flowers, but don’t ruin the recording), the performer himself should at least not sabotage his own recordings.

The Op. 33 Etudes-Tableaux of Rachmaninoff closed the recital with equally powerful and musical interpretations. As the pianist aptly states in his program notes, these Etudes are “less overtly virtuosic and flashy than many of the Preludes, and certainly less demonstrative than the etudes by Liszt or even Chopin. Rather they require a refined pianism of greater precision of expression and tonal control.” Exactly right, and Mr. Tartakovsky lived up to his own words, bringing them a wide range of intense emotions and colors and sustaining interest throughout (no small feat, as this reviewer knows from performing the entire set as well). Bravo!

After this far-from-light program, one would have understood if there had been no encores, but the audience was treated to four, the first three with no words of introduction. First, he gave us a sensitively voiced rendition of the lyrical Rachmaninoff Prelude Op. 23, No. 10 in G-flat major. After still more applause he lit into the Bach-Busoni Nun freut euch, lieben Christen g’mein – at lightning speed and with superb clarity. A highlight of the evening for this listener was the next encore, the Brahms Intermezzo in A major, Op. 118, No. 2, given a mature pacing with ample time to absorb its great beauty. One wanted to say “Amen.”

Before his fourth and final encore, Mr. Tartakovsky made some remarks about leaving school soon with “tearful goodbyes” and announced that he would play Rachmaninoff’s own arrangement of  Nunc Dimittis from the All-Night Vigil (or Vespers) Op. 37. The text begins (as he announced) “Lord, now lettest thou thy servant depart in peace” (St. Luke 2:29). Indeed, we wish the future Dr. Tartakovsky peace – but we also wish him the long fruitful career he richly deserves.

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

Rachel KyeJung Park, pianist

Weill Recital Hall, Carnegie Hall, New York, NY

March 13, 2023

There was something for everyone at a recent concert at Weill Hall given by pianist Rachel KyeJung Park, Assistant Professor of Piano at Jacksonville State University and recipient of numerous distinctions in Korea and the US. Of greatest interest to me were selections from 12 Heilige Glockenklänge für Klavier, a US Premiere of music by Korean composer M. W. Johann Kim (b. 1959). The balance of the program featured standard repertoire, including Beethoven’s Sonata Op. 109, Chopin’s G minor Ballade, Debussy’s Estampes, Ravel’s Alborado del Gracioso (from Miroirs), and Rachmaninoff’s Etude-Tableau Op. 39, No. 6 in A minor. The final work on the program was the pianist’s own arrangement of the traditional Korean song (and unofficial anthem), Arirang.

Dr. Park started the evening off with confidence and color in the four fascinating selections by M. W Johann Kim, 12 Heilige Glockenklänge für Klavier (or 12 Holy Bell Sounds for Piano). The first piece,  Am Anfang (Beginning), started with a great chordal burst, from which emanations of color seemed to stream. The second piece, Frieden des Herrn (Peace of the Lord), was the most bell-like of the four, with hints of Debussy and Messiaen. The third piece, Freude, emerged as rather boisterous, starting with a lively ostinato and growing dance-like and brilliant (with bell sounds not too detectable to this listener, though it was exciting, as it stood). Finally the fourth, Liebe (Love), closed the set with a melody in ebullient right-hand octaves over quasi-impressionistic chords, trills, and passagework. These are intriguing pieces, unique in expression though reminding one of Messiaen, Scriabin, and the impressionistic composers. Dr. Park did an impressive job projecting their spirit while handling their technical complexities, and the composer was present for a well-deserved ovation. His works, we learn from some texts that were available at intermission, are created with his own acoustically inspired system called bell sound harmony, based partly on the work of Kurt Anton Hueber and grounded in Mr. Kim’s own faith. One hopes to hear more of this fascinating music.

Moving to more familiar music, Dr. Park played Rachmaninoff’s Etude-Tableau Op. 39 No. 6 in A minor (often called “Little Red Riding Hood”). It was striking for the relative slowness (compared to many performers) of her opening chromatic runs – but the initial surprise became admiration as these passages (likened to the growling of the wolf) “growled” all the more for not being rushed. Dr. Park has clearly no trouble with high-velocity fingerwork, as the ensuing challenges were easily met at very high speed. Well done!

Debussy’s Estampes followed, and each of the three pieces was played with great care, though with varying degrees of emotional power to this listener. Pagodes, the first of the three, left nothing wanting. Redolent with the sounds of Debussy’s beloved gamelan, it was happy in Dr. Park’s hands. La soirée dans Grenade was well done overall, but, to this listener, it needed a more sultry, smoky feel in its habanera, and a lusher, more expansive climax. Jardins sous la pluie conveyed well the shimmering colors and repeating rhythms of its subject, gardens under the rain, though it lost focus at times.

After intermission (and a change of evening dress from red to brilliant turquoise), we heard Beethoven’s Sonata Op. 109 in E major, one of the master’s great three final sonatas for piano.  Rather than assess each movement blow-by-blow, suffice it to say that it was probably an “off night” for this piece; if one had to pinpoint the source of the several mishaps, however, they might relate to this pianist’s favoring of the right hand. Gifted with a penchant for all things cantabile, this pianist seemed to need a bit more thorough attention to the bass lines and harmonic underpinnings. (Underpinnings that are neglected have a way of getting revenge at the oddest times, and some did just that.) Beyond that, this listener felt at odds with some of it purely interpretively – with the first movement feeling overly “prettified,” and the Andante theme of the finale exuding sweetness more than nobility.

Ravel’s Alborado del Gracioso from Miroirs seemed well suited to this pianist, and that is quite a compliment, considering what notorious challenges it presents, from its rapid repeated notes to its double glissandi. Dr. Park was up to the demands and played with fire and flair. Her repeated notes, incidentally, were superb.

Chopin’s G minor Ballade was also well in hand overall, and though I didn’t agree with every interpretive decision, the work was solid and well prepared throughout, with excellent tonal balance and control, pearling runs, judicious pacing, and plenty of spirit in the coda.

The final work on the program was also a delightful surprise, Dr. Park’s arrangement of Arirang – which turned out to be not just a rhapsody on Arirang but also on Amazing Grace, the tune that opens the piece. Her rendition was charming, as is the piece itself, reflecting a lovely and grateful spirit. Dr. Park has a gift for embellishing and harmonizing, and one hopes she will do much more in this area.

An enthusiastic crowd gave a standing ovation and was rewarded with an encore of Chopin’s Fantaisie-Impromptu, played well enough that it might have been put on the program itself.

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

Samuel Lord Kalcheim, composer;

Kristyn Michele, tenor; Juan Aguilera Cerezo, cellist

Tobiasz Siankiewicz, alto saxophonist;

Daniel Beliavsky, Jason Weisinger, Nicholas Pietromonaco, pianists

Tenri Institute, New York, NY

March 3, 2023

An eager crowd of music lovers filled the Tenri Institute auditorium this Friday for a concert entitled Ancient Wisdom, Emerging Voices, the New York City debut of composer Samuel Lord Kalcheim (b. 1990). The program offered two major works inspired by Ancient Greek writings, including his Sonata for Violoncello Solo “Three Maxims of Delphi” and his Ancient Hymns and Prayers, a song cycle based on his translations of mostly Greek texts. Rounding out the program were his Six Morning Miniatures for Piano (World Premiere) and Grand Duo for Alto Saxophone and Piano.

The composer’s biographical notes state that “Building on an expertise in 18th and 19th c. styles and forms, Samuel writes expressive new music for today’s sensibilities.” For full disclosure, I had run across some of Mr. Kalcheim’s more youthful work through mutual friends nearly a decade ago and had been surprised by the predominant 18th- and 19th-century aspects of his writing. As a diehard devotee of tonality, I had cheered but also had wondered how this particular style, something of a throwback, might play out in the “new music” world. How would it find its place in new music circles where such styles are often peremptorily dismissed? How would these styles of long ago weave into our current world? Well, I am happy to report that this evening offered heartening answers. Mr. Kalcheim is proving to be a promising and accomplished young composer with much to offer the world.

The concert opened with Grand Duo for Alto Saxophone and Piano, given a bravura reading by Tobiasz Siankiewicz and pianist Daniel Beliavsky. The piece, originally written for and recorded by saxophonist Jessica Dodge-Overstreet, lives up to the “grand” title in its bold gestures and flourishes, starting with a fortissimo chordal announcement at the piano and moving on to impassioned, long-breathed phrases in the saxophone. It is (in the composer’s words ) “something of an homage to the French origin of the saxophone, blending French Romantic and Impressionistic influences, with a hint of fin de siècle Russian music.” At times one heard hints of Fauré – and at times, in its sparer textures, of Ibert – but in any case, it conveyed something of the intoxicating beauty of France where we are told most of it was composed (Paris). It is a piece that should find a happy home on many saxophone recitals. Mr. Siankiewicz and Mr. Beliavsky seemed both more than up to its demands. My one complaint was that (as often is the complaint with Tenri) the sound was overwhelming from both instruments, overwhelming enough to cause actual pain and invite earplugs. Either the performers need to know this in advance and adjust fortissimos accordingly, or there need to be some sound-absorbing panels or cloths brought into the room.

Next, filling out the first half, came the Sonata for Violoncello Solo “Three Maxims of Delphi, written for and performed here by Spanish cellist Juan Aguilera Cerezo. The first movement was based on the maxim Gnothi seauton (Know thyself) and was appropriately searching and probing. Written idiomatically for cello, it conveyed inner conflict through its dissonant counterpoint, a pedal point heard almost as an idée fixe, and the gradual and skillful development of its material. Mr. Cerezo played with a complete commitment to the music, and his audience was rapt.

The second movement Meden Agan (Nothing in excess) was a study in musical balance, the opening chant-like figures (faint hints of Dies Irae) proceeding to a more dance-like section. The third and final movement, Eggua para d’ate (A pledge brings ruin), exploited the cello’s extremes of dynamics and timbres, as the music conveyed still more emotional grappling. It was (as was this entire piece) refreshing in its genuineness, avoiding fads or flash in favor of its own course; there were moments, still, when one wondered whether parts might have been compressed slightly with no loss of the sense of odyssey.

After intermission, we heard Six Morning Miniatures for Piano (World Premiere), composed, as Mr. Kalcheim describes, “in a series of mornings as a way to start the day. Each briefly explores a little musical world, almost in a naive way.” Pianist Nicholas Pietromonaco performed these with great sensitivity to their varied moods. They were a joy to hear, bringing to mind miniatures of Grieg (Lyric Pieces) and sometimes those of MacDowell, Gretchaninoff, and others, though each with its own individual spirit. Little Wild Horse (a far cry from Schumann’s Wild Horseman) was gentle and dreamy. Morning Tea conveyed a workaday comfort, with just enough color to be an eye-opener. A shift from imagery to contrasting abstraction came in Two-Part Invention (an interesting exercise exploiting an easily discernible theme) and Bitonal Study (with such understated contrast that one easily forgot it was bitonal). In a return to imagery, Hummingbirds (Toccata) benefitted from Mr. Petromonaco’s rapid fingerwork and then disappeared with a playful humor that wasn’t lost on the attentive audience. (Was I in a mood or were there hints here of Dies Irae as well?) Finally, Summer’s End (Pastorale) brought the set to a touching close, bringing to mind some miniatures of Rebikoff.

Just for clarification here, with all the mentions of hints and similarities, these are not criticisms. Just as poets through the centuries can describe the same subject with both overlap and individuality, the same applies in music, without detriment if one is true to oneself. As for influence, the great composers left us seeds – and sometimes doors to Narnia. Casting them aside as used, like casting tonality aside, is “throwing the baby out with the bathwater.” For this reason, I hope that Mr. Kalcheim stays his course without the temptation to be “original” for originality’s sake.

Originality is also inherent in the exploration of new voices, and Mr. Kalcheim’s final work on the program, Ancient Hymns and Prayers, is just that. Based on his own translations from Ancient Greek texts, he composed the cycle for non-binary tenor Kristyn Michele as part of a goal of creating works for non-traditional voices; the program title “Ancient Wisdom, Emerging Voices” was thus quite fitting.

The six songs of Ancient Hymns and Prayers started beautifully with Prayer to Pan. Kristyn Michele sang with a pure and focused tone and captivating emotional involvement, and Jason Weisinger was a wonderful collaborator here, establishing a hallowed mood with his hypnotic repeated figures. Hymn to the Earth was a beauty as well, bubbling over with youthful energy and voluptuous color. Occasionally in lower registers the voice was overwhelmed by the very bright piano, but this was perhaps inescapable given the venue – and even more pronounced in the next movement, Praise to the Sun. Hymn to the Night brought more complex and sometimes tortured emotions, and if there was some debt to Scriabin here, it was well-placed.

The fifth song, Prayer to Aphrodite, reflected Mr. Kalcheim’s special sensitivity to text, as the wavering chromaticism suggested the fickleness of love – not a surprise, given his role as translator of the text, but worthy of mention. Finally, Epitaph, the sixth song, closed the concert with a haunting setting of the lines “As long as you live, shine!” (and some more hints of the Dies Irae chant). It was a moving close to a memorable evening.

Ten long years have passed since that first hearing of Mr. Kalcheim’s youthful work – a different phase of life, different compositions – and since that first glimmer, Mr. Kalcheim has composed for soprano Estelí Gomez, the Delgani String Quartet, University of Oregon’s Musicking Conference and the Elsewhere Ensemble, in addition to current projects shared on this occasion. He currently plans a recording of his works and is clearly not at a loss for creative projects. Stylistically, his music now reflects a wide range of influences from Romanticism, Impressionism, early 20th-century Russian composers, and much more, but it retains overall its rootedness in a traditional tonal language. More importantly than that, though, it reflects a fidelity to his own creativity, which he cultivates with integrity and intelligence. More power to him!

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