Daniel Saidenberg Faculty Recital Series: Charles Neidich & Robert Levin in Review
Charles Neidich, clarinets
Robert Levin, piano, fortepiano
Morse Recital Hall, Juilliard School, New York, NY
January 31, 2024
As part of the Daniel Saidenberg Faculty Recital Series, clarinetist Charles Neidich and pianist Robert Levin joined forces at Morse Recital Hall at The Juilliard School on January 31, 2024. The pairing of two such noted and scholarly musicians promised not only technically masterful performances, but deeply informed musical ones as well. In addition to some of the favorites of the clarinet repertoire, the program included two premieres: the world premiere of Mr. Neidich’s own composition, Lament for basset clarinet in A and piano, and a U.S. premiere of Landscape by the Light of the Moon by Russian composer Edison Denisov.
I must make mention of the program notes. Filled with historical background, musical analysis that does not require advanced knowledge, and personal observations and anecdotes, these notes were the “gold standard” that I always hope for (and almost never get). Educating the listener is an important aspect of performing that is often overlooked or dismissed.
Mr. Neidich and Mr. Levin took the stage to open with the Grand Duo Concertant, Op. 48, by Carl Maria von Weber. One could say that Weber and the clarinet enjoyed a mutually beneficial relationship – his many clarinet works are staples of the repertoire. Probably the most popular clarinet and piano duo, the Grand Duo Concertant has a rich performance history, with both Mendelssohn and Liszt as pianists. That should suggest the virtuosic nature of the piano part (which it of course it is!) – one could never imagine Liszt ever being “the hack in the back”!
Mr. Neidich and Mr. Levin used period instruments (or at least copies of them), a Grenser clarinet (circa 1800) and a Graf piano (circa 1820) for this work (and this work only). I’m not going to tread on the period instrument debate, but the idea of a historically authentic performance does hold a certain charm. As for the instruments themselves, the clarinet has a slightly more mellow sound than its modern counterpart. As for any technical issues, I would be hard pressed to make any claims of definite inferiority. How much of that is due to Mr. Neidich’s virtuosity is arguable, but I suspect it is a large factor. The fortepiano of course lacks the power and resonance of the modern instrument, but in this work, that was a non-issue. If anything, it was an asset.
This is a work that tests both clarinet and pianist to the utmost. Its popularity with performers and listeners alike is easily understood, it is a showpiece par excellence. Mr. Neidich gave what amounted to a masterclass. I hope that the many students in attendance paid close attention. It’s not just the virtuosity that matters, it is what you do with it. The shaping of phrases and rich tone of the slower, more mournful sections (especially the middle movement) were every bit as impressive as the flash. Let’s not forget Mr. Levin – he was an equal partner in all ways, and the ensemble of the two players was perfection. This was a great start!
After the Weber we heard Edison Denisov’s Landscape by the Light of the Moon (U.S. premiere). Denisov was a leading avant-garde composer in the Soviet Union, who committed the “sin” of international success, and as punishment was blacklisted in 1979 at the 6th Congress of the Union of Soviet Composers by its president, Tikhon Khrennikov. Apparently the infamous 1948 Zhdanov decree had taught them nothing. To Denisov’s credit, he did not let this shameful action deter him from continued composing.
Tonight was the United States premiere. Interestingly enough, Mr. Levin was the pianist of the world premiere, and Ayako Oshima (Mr. Neidich’s wife) premiered the work in Japan.
Hearing Landscape by the Light of the Moon one feels the strong sensation of a foggy night, with the moonlight shining through in such a way that highlights the shadowy forms of a dark night without completely illuminating them. It would not be out of place to imagine this music finding use in film noir. In the hands of musicians of lesser sensitivities and ability, it could end up being rendered as a random mishmash of trills and trite effects. Mr. Neidich and Mr. Levin, who both knew Denisov, avoided these pitfalls in what was a mesmerizing performance.
The Sonata for Violin and Piano in D Minor, Op. 121 by Robert Schumann (as transcribed by Charles Neidich for clarinet), was the final work on the first half. Transcription is a tricky business – there are myriad issues to consider, such as register and range, tonal quality difference between the original instrument and the one being transcribed for, and techniques that cannot be duplicated, i.e., pizzicato. I have heard other violin works transcribed for the clarinet that I found problematic, and not because of the player.
Mr. Neidich’s judgment was superb, and if anything this sonata seems possibly even better suited for the clarinet than the violin in this transcription. As Mr. Neidich stated, violinists find it awkward because of the writing being in the low range, but that range suits the clarinet well. Other than making a few small changes (accounting for double stops and pizzicato), there was little alteration needed. The outer movements possess as Mr. Neidich’s notes state, “a passionate intensity and rhythmic relentlessness that is extreme even for Schumann” – and this was projected well in their performance. The middle movement was gorgeous. Played with élan, it is a wonderful addition to the repertoire.
The second half opened with two pieces for solo bass clarinet by György Kurtág, Capriccio for Solo Bass Clarinet and Words Have Become Unfaithful to Me. Like much of Kurtág’s music, these pieces have quicksilver changes of mood and short motifs of an episodic nature, all the while exploring the intrinsic qualities of the instrument (in this case, the clarinet overtones). Mr. Neidich gave a probing reading, negotiating with assurance the mood swings from serene to troubled, all the while demonstrating both the rich tonal quality of the extreme lower range and the less explored melodic agility of the bass clarinet in an impressive fashion.
Stimmungen Eines Fauns (Moods of a Faun), op. 11, by Ilsa Fromm Michaels (1888-1986) followed the Kurtág pieces. Almost completely unknown today, Michaels is another sad example of a promising career being destroyed by the Third Reich. She survived the Second World War but stopped composing altogether after 1945. Mr. Neidich wrote in his notes that he knew her son Jost Michaels (also a clarinetist) but had not known of her and therefore had never inquired about her.
There are three short movements for clarinet solo (Klage, Schalkslaune, Schermut) which roughly translate as Lament, Mischievousness, and Melancholy. As Mr. Neidich played, two dancers, one male and one female (probably Juilliard dance students), took the part of fauns in a choreographed routine. I’m not qualified to speak critically about dance, but it was visually striking and the movements were executed with precision. I’m not sure if the music informed the dance, or the dance informed the music, but it was fascinating to see and hear.
Equally fascinating was our brief glimpse of Mr. Neidich as a composer, in the world premiere of his Lament for Basset Clarinet and Piano. Completed on New Year’s Day 2024, this is a welcome and much-needed addition to the nearly non-existent Basset Clarinet repertoire. The Basset is basically a clarinet with the addition of extended lower range to C below the standard low E of the standard clarinet.
What exactly is being lamented is not entirely clear, as Mr. Neidich does not give specifics in his program notes, but does allude to world events and his reaction to them as being significant factors. The piano simulated the tolling of bells, and much of the lament takes the form of anger and indignation as opposed to sadness and resignation. It was played by both Mr. Neidich and Mr. Levin with passion and power. There is a lot to process, and I feel that subsequent listenings will help shape reactions and understanding.
Now, saving the best for last – Johannes Brahms’s Sonata for Clarinet and Piano in F minor, Op. 120, No. 1, closed the evening. This work needs no introduction save for the fact that it is an undisputed masterpiece. It was a perfect bookend to the Weber. Open the night with a masterclass, close the night with a masterclass. Thank you, Mr. Neidich and Mr. Levin for giving me the luxury of taking off my “critic” hat and putting on my “music lover” hat. It was easily the highlight of the night for me. The audience knew it was something special as well, and gave the duo the proper respect of a loud ovation.
