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Maxim Anikushin, Pianist in Review

Carnegie Hall (Stern Auditorium); New York, NY

April 5, 2012

In October 2011, The Russian-American Cultural Heritage Center designated April as Russian-American History Month, and to launch the first RAHM in New York State, the RACH-C presented the superb pianist Maxim Anikushin in his first Carnegie Hall recital in the big Stern Auditorium (he had made his noteworthy debut in the smaller Weill Recital Hall on March 9, 1999–only three days after his 23^rd birthday). In this writer’s glowing review [in Volume 6, No. 2 of this journal], I prophesized the burgeoning artist as “undoubtedly destined to enter the annals of his generation’s important young pianists.” Thirteen years and numerous concerts later, Anikushin has triumphantly confirmed my expectations. His April 5^th recital was a heartwarming affair, and I am proud to remain an unstinting admirer.

Mr. Anikushin’s generous, well balanced program fittingly reiterated several aspects I remember from his past interpretative work: at his aforementioned debut in 1999, a superior performance of the Op. 109 Sonata served notice that he was an idiomatic Beethovenian (by no means a “given” with the best Russian pianist—even Gilels and Richter, et al). As confirmation, the entire first half of the Carnegie Hall program was dedicated to superlative versions of the composer’s Polonaise, Op. 89, “Andante favori”, Wo0 57 and “Waldstein” Sonata, Op. 53. The Polonaise had a dancing and uncluttered rhythmic spin, and the Andante (said to have been originally intended as the “Waldstein”’s second movement) had simplicity and honest flow. As for the “Waldstein”, which I have heard Anikushin play very well in the past year, his interpretation has matured and intensified: this time, he has brought certain details to the fore (e.g. the trimmings and inner voices in the slow movement; and whereas in his earlier account, he chose the pianistically expedient “solution” of playing the octave glissando as two-handed scales, he now opted for the specified Urtext, and also the loud/soft dynamic in the original manuscript). One more observation: the transition into the Rondo was magically poetic and exquisitely timed.

In 2010, Mr. Anikushin paid homage to the American composer Samuel Barber on the centenary of his birth with a handsome retrospective of his solo piano and chamber music. That recital at the New York Public Library served notice that he has real love and inspired affinity for Barber’s music (he is now recording a disc of his music for Albany Records, a mouthwatering prospect). Mr. Anikushin repeated his mercurial, sensitivity-nuanced and dramatically persuasive version of the Piano Sonata, Op. 26, along with delectably played encores of his Lullaby and the Waltz from his “Souvenirs”. (Among the encores was the “Dance Russe” from Stravinsky’s “Petrouchka”).

Anikushin’s musical persona is, to his greatest credit, brilliantly virtuosic, but also elegant, tasteful and essentially classically reserved: I can give no higher compliment than to write that he is very much in the tradition of such fine paragons as the fondly remembered Benno Moiseiwitsch. His wonderfully warm and intimately crafted interpretations of Tchaikovsky’s “Dumka”, Op. 59 and two vignettes, “January” and “May” from “The Months”, Op. 37 verged on perfection.

There was also a belated premiere of a 1991 composition, “Mirage” by Yekaterina Merkulyeva (b. 1956), which the musician–born in Leningrad (now again St. Petersburg)– penned in 1991, immediately after her immigration to America. “Mirage” is, in the composer’s note, “a Romantic Fantasy…[describing] different emotions, both trepidations and excitement, depression and alienations battling at once with both hope and nostalgia , the unreality, at least to someone who grew up in the Soviet Union, of this incredibly energetic , frenetic, unpredictable, dreamy, yet perhaps sometimes dangerous city we live in.” Ms. Merkulyeva’s description further acknowledges influences of Mussorgsky and Prokofieff (I heard ‘sound bites’ of the “Suggestion Diaboliques” and “Old Grandmother’s Tales”). The approximately 6-minute long piece fitted well into the masterfully put together program.

The concert, in summation, was absolutely worthy of what major artists can deliver. What did sadden me was that the house was so scantly filled (all the boxes, dress circle and balcony were empty). Alas, Mr. Anikushin’s public acclaim has not been kept abreast of his richly deserved talent!

by Harris Goldsmith for New York Concert Review; New York, NY

Berlin and Vienna Philharmonics, Boston and St. Louis Symphonies in Review

Four Renowned Orchestras Come to Carnegie within Two Week Span

Carnegie Hall; Stern Auditorium

February 23-March 10, 2012

Sir Simon Rattle

After a relatively quiet January and early February, a slew of renowned orchestras invaded Carnegie Hall in what seemed like a new orchestral movement. Curiously enough, they weren’t all moving together or feeling the music with unity. As a result, it wasn’t necessarily the most famous ensembles that made the greatest and lasting impressions. A talented player’s natural musical movements as a solo or chamber music performer are absolutely crucial to use in the collective music-making of an orchestra section because it is important to the visceral excitement that captivates the audience; this is especially necessary in today’s visual world. The stellar performances at Carnegie Hall emanated from the orchestras that moved with the music harmoniously and had the best chemistry.

The Vienna Philharmonic is known for swaying together with the music, but they often didn’t this time around; guest conductor Lorin Maazel sometimes didn’t have the ideal communication with the players, and the orchestra often seemed uninspired. Some players surprisingly sat stiffly in their chairs and formally went about business as usual in orchestral music to Wagner’s “Ring”. They’ve played this music a great deal, but mostly from the pit at the Vienna State Opera. In fact, they often moved and looked like they were in the pit, seemingly disinterested about how they appeared as a collective unit. This attitude sometimes negatively affected their sound. Berlin, on the other hand, presented a string section in which everyone passionately moved together, wherever the phrases took them, and they used their bow exactly the same way (the Juilliard Orchestra under Alan Gilbert recently performed “The Rite of Spring” in this fashion). Even Berlin’s string tremolos in music of Mahler (the 2nd) and Bruckner (the 9th) had the type of invested energy that a pack of lions or a defensive tackle has when they go in for the kill. There were sweat and tears on each note. It doesn’t hurt, of course, that music director Simon Rattle and the Berliners are having a love affair. Rattle’s connection with the music is infectious, and it kept spreading with every measure. Perhaps the Berlin Philharmonic should have its own gold coin too.

David Robertson has the same effect on St. Louis Symphony musicians that Rattle does with his—even though Robertson has only been there a short while. “The Firebird” (complete ballet) sizzled with energy, and the cellos and first violins—most visible because they are on the outside and close to the audience—used full bows when needed and swayed together with the direction of the phrases, staying deeply involved at every microcosm of change in the musical atmosphere. The players’ expressions were what you typically see from a talented conductor: totally in character at all times. Robertson motivated the players, and in turn the players inspired the audience. Concertgoers need to see players’ involvement in the same way the orchestra needs to see the conductor’s devotion.

The brass sections are another way to compare. Boston Symphony’s brass—as well as the Vienna Philharmonic’s—did not shine like those of Berlin and St. Louis. And it’s a fair comparison because the music (and its corresponding sound-expectation) I am referring to was from large orchestral works of the Late Romantic and 20^th century periods. In Vienna’s case, their brass needs to be asked to play with a big sound when needed because Richard Strauss always made a point of telling conductors to never encourage the Vienna brass, and this tradition has stuck, it seems (Maazel didn’t encourage them enough in Wagner’s music). In the case of Boston, perhaps they are an aging brass section; they did not play with much collective power in Shostakovich’s Symphony No. 5, conducted by Deneve, nor in the Symphonie Fantastique conducted by Eschenbach. The rest of the orchestra, for that matter, had trouble staying together some of the time, as Deneve was constantly pushing the tempo in ways the orchestra wasn’t used to, and Eschenbach was often fussing with the tempo (as if there aren’t enough tempo changes in Berlioz). Granted, the Boston Symphony had the disadvantage of working with three different guest-conductors, John Oliver taking over for Masur, who took over for Levine, Eschenbach and then Stephane Deneve, who made his Carnegie Hall debut.

St. Louis seemed proud of its current brass section; some of them are temporary position players—but they blended well and it seemed that they were excited to be on stage—and off stage, as a matter of fact. In the “Firebird”, Robertson showcased extra trumpets in the 1st tier boxes for antiphonal effect—a novel and great idea for this work—and they sounded robust and solid to the core, echoing the sonic brilliance on stage. I hope that Carnegie gives St. Louis at least two concerts next time they come to Carnegie.

Rattle and Robertson are the right fit for their orchestras. One can hope that Vienna will fare better with Franz Welser-Most on the podium when they visit Carnegie next year. Those who missed Berlin at Carnegie will sadly have to wait another two years. Boston has a big question-mark until they get a new music director. It will be up to that person to instill a sense of complete commitment in the music-making and also remind the players that the way an orchestra moves together—especially the outside players close to the audience—is integral to the audience’s satisfaction of a live performance. Otherwise, why bother? YouTube has fantastic close-up footage of unified orchestras moving to the music and homogeneously expressing its emotion. When it comes to live performances, we often need a new orchestral movement.

Orchestra Stars (out of 4)

Berlin Philharmonic ****

St. Louis Symphony ****

Vienna Philharmonic **1/2

Boston Symphony **

by Anthony Aibel for New York Concert Review; New York, NY

Vienna Philharmonic Orchestra led by Gustavo Dudamel with featured artists Lang Lang and Yo-Yo Ma

Vienna Philharmonic Orchestra

Gustavo Dudamel, conductor

Yo-Yo Ma, cello

Carnegie Hall: Stern Auditorium; New York, NY

October 3, 2010

Gustavo Dudamel. Photo Credit Chris Lee

For the Vienna Philharmonic’s last two concerts, the young Venezuelan conductor Gustavo Dudamel took over from the veteran Nikolaus Harnoncourt, and a greater contrast can hardly be imagined. Even the seating of the string sections was different: Harnoncourt had the violins on opposite sides of the stage, Dudamel had them side by side. Only a few years ago, Dudamel created a sensation with his extraordinary talent; his amazing youthful accomplishments in his own country and abroad and his meteoric rise to fame culminated in his appointment as the Los Angeles Philharmonic’s Music Director last season. He has impressed New York audiences conducting not only his Venezuelan Youth Orchestra (which he has been leading for eleven years and is now replicating in Los Angeles), but also great orchestras like the New York Philharmonic, and his appearances are always eagerly anticipated. The Vienna Philharmonic’s concerts were no exception.

The three romantic masterpieces on the final program: Brahms’ “Tragic Overture,” Schumann’s Cello Concerto, and Dvorák’s “New World” Symphony, seemed a perfect choice for displaying Dudamel’s boundless energy, exuberance, and involvement. And indeed his performance of the Brahms was full of promise: noble, somber and austere, it struck a fine balance between passion and restraint, intensity and release. There were no extremes of tempo or dynamics, none of the whispering and crashing of the Vienna Philharmonic’s earlier Beethoven program.

If anyone whispered, it was Yo-Yo Ma in the Schumann. Of all the great cello concertos, this is perhaps the least soloistic; it feels less like a showpiece than a conversation between soloist and orchestra. Emphasizing its intimacy, inwardness, and the poetic, almost spoken quality of its phrasing and melodic rise and fall, Ma interacted closely with the concertmaster and with the principal cellist in their slow movement duet. Unfortunately, his best intentions were defeated by the size of Carnegie Hall; his playing had all its customary beauty, variety and expressiveness, but his tone was often lost in the large space. Nevertheless, he received a standing ovation, and, after embracing the conductor and as many members of the orchestra as he could reach, notably the principal cellist, he returned to play the first movement of Bach’s G-major solo Suite.

The Vienna Philharmonic Orchestra Led by Gustavo Dudamel in Stern Auditorium/Perelman Stage with featuring artist Lang Lang. Photo Credit - Chris Lee

If the Brahms, with its avoidance of exaggeration, had brought out the best in Dudamel, the Dvorák did the opposite. Everything was excessive and overdone. There was no whispering, but plenty of crashing; this must have been the loudest “New World” within memory. The sound was so thick that many important melodic and harmonic details were lost; the build-ups were so precipitous that climaxes were often reached long before their time. The temptation to draw maximal sound from a great orchestra must be irresistible to a conductor, especially a young firebrand; Dudamel seemed to be unleashing the elemental forces of nature. His conducting style is marked by an almost unremitting tension; he seems like a taut wire, physically and emotionally. Conducting from memory, his gestures were angular and stabbing, producing lots of aggressive accents, or large and sweeping, producing great masses of sound. The result was a “New World” Symphony long on drama, intensity and drive, short on lyricism and repose. The audience responded with the sort of screaming associated with rock stars rather than classical conductors; the encore, the Waltz from Bernstein’s Divertimento, was blessedly quiet.

Though it is true that Dvorák’s “American” works were influenced by native American idioms, his own native Czech idiom is never far away; in fact, his music seemed to get increasingly Czech as he became more homesick. If he had lived long enough to hear the words “Going home” later added to the English horn melody in the “New World” Symphony’s slow movement (played beautifully at this concert), he might have felt that they echoed his own sentiments.

by Edith Eisler for New York Concert Review; New York, NY

The University of Notre Dame Concert Band

Kenneth Dye, conductor

Carnegie Hall: Stern Auditorium, New York, NY

May 11, 2010

To the great pleasure of the joyous audience attending this Carnegie Hall concert, the ninety-three members of The University of Notre Dame Concert Band made a mighty sound. And the word concert alone does not fully describe this event, as it assumed, at different times, aspects of a concert, a college reunion, a pep rally. Let it be said at the outset that The University of Notre Dame Concert Band is a virtuoso ensemble. The technical skill and ensemble cohesiveness of these young players is mind boggling. The thirteen flutes in unison play as one, as do the fourteen clarinets. The forty-one member brass choir sounds great at all dynamic levels, when playing both solemn chorale-like passages and wild jazzy riffs. It was an evening of sonic splendor.

We began with the world premier of Joseph Turinn’s “Fanfare and Prelude.” Director of Bands Kenneth Dye conducted this and three other works on the concert. Five assistant conductors, Larry Dwyer, Sam Sanchez, Matt Merten, Emmett O’Leary and Alison Thigpen shared the remaining nine works. “Fanfare and Prelude,” the following work, Clifton Williams’ “Dramatic Essay,” and “Fandango,” another work by Mr. Turrin, all seemed to have similar sonic structures. All had a fast brassy beginning, a softer lyric middle section with prominent woodwinds, a loud and fast ending. Both of Mr. Turinn’s works also had an uplifting brass choral-like passage towards the end, one which would not have been out of place in a movie score. They also shared a similar harmonic and rhythmic vocabulary. The dissonances were fairly painless, the lyric melodies pop-tune-like, the beginnings and endings jazzy.

“Dramatic Essay” featured fine playing by guest artist, trumpeter Philip Smith. But with all the excellent trumpeters in the band, I’m not sure why they had to go out and get a star. (Mr. Smith is principal trumpet of the New York Philharmonic.) In “Fandango,” Mr. Smith was joined by the Notre Dame Concert Band’s principal trombone, Anthony Parish. Mr. Parish more than held his own. In fact, his was the most impressive solo playing of the evening – warm, expressive, beautifully phrased. I loved his judicious use of vibrato.

On the first half we heard both arrangements and easy listening works written in the twenty and twenty-first centuries. There was a sameness about much of this music. For me, the concert came to life three works into the second half, with the Notre Dame New Orleans Brass Band’s electrifying performance of conductor Matt Merton’s arrangements of What a Friend We Have in Jesus and I’ll Fly Away. The band entered from the rear of the hall and marched down the aisle. What visceral excitement, what authenticity! I did feel there was no reason for the members of the concert band to join in after the marchers reached the stage, for it only watered down the unique sound we had been hearing.

The concert band morphed into a very good and very large “big band” with stylistically impeccable performances of Larry Dwyer’s transcription of Harold Arlen’s “When the Sun Comes Out” and Kenneth Dyes tribute to Benny Goodman’s 1938 Carnegie Hall Concert, “Benny Goodman in Concert.”

The entire audience then rose to their feet for the Notre Dame Alma Mater. And how else could this concert end, but with a rip-roaring rendition of the great “Notre Dame Victory March”? It was conducted by TV personality and Notre Dame Alumnus Regis Philbin.

by Harry Saltzman for New York Concert Review; New York, NY

Distinguished Concerts International New York – Love, Lust, and Light: A Valentine’s Day Concert

Distinguished Concerts International New York – Love, Lust, and Light: A Valentine’s Day Concert

Love, Lust, and Light: A Valentine’s Day Concert

Carnegie Hall: Stern Auditorium, New York, NY

February 14, 2010

After hearing this concert, I am happy to report that high quality choral singing in the United States is flourishing. In my review of DCINY’s January 18th concert at Avery Fisher Hall, I lauded them for bringing fine amateur choruses to New York. The sentiments expressed in that review are equally applicable to this afternoon’s concert.

This Valentine’s Day concert began with Morten Lauridsen’s gentle “Lux Aeterna” (“Eternal Light”) – definitely a non-Valentine’s Day piece, but connected to “Love and Lust” by alliteration. Nancy Menk, a prominent Indiana choral conductor, led five choirs and the Distinguished Concerts Orchestra International, a group of fine New York free-lance musicians who perform at DCINY choral concerts. The singers were drawn from three high school choirs, leavened by more mature voices from two of Ms. Menk’s own performing organizations. What a glorious sound! But there were some problems with diction – vowels were fine, but most consonants were indistinct. And many choral entrances were tentative. As to Ms. Menk’s conducting technique: it was hard to discern a clear pattern to the beat, and there was little connection between what was going on in the music and the beat’s size and intensity. Most gestures were just too large. Good amateur choral singers don’t need the music to be constantly “drawn out from them.”

After intermission, the “Love and Lust” theme was expressed in a work beloved of many choruses and audiences, Carl Orff’s “Carmina Burana.” We heard six choirs, a much larger orchestra and three soloists, all under the masterful direction of Vance George (DCINY Conductor Laureate). We also saw a quite different conducting technique – clear, economic, elegant. While setting fine tempi and skillfully shaping the overall performance, he just let the performers make the music they had so carefully rehearsed. No need to “draw it out from them.”

Dillon McCartney sang the stratospheric tenor part of the “Roasted Swan” with ease. Soprano Penelope Shumate, in a sexy red gown which conjured up the word “lust”, possessed a beautiful, flexible, dramatic voice. My favorite soloist was baritone Stephen Swanson, whose expressive sound was especially thrilling in the upper registers.