Wa Concerts Series presents “Beyond Space and Time” in Review

Wa Concerts Series presents “Beyond Space and Time” in Review

Charles Neidich, clarinet; Mohamed Shams, piano
Tenri Cultural Institute, New York, NY
January 26, 2020

It takes an artist of rare commitment, curiosity, and imagination to adapt three large French works for violin and piano, including both of Gabriel Fauré’s sonatas, to rendition by the clarinet. Such an artist is Charles Neidich, as anyone who regularly attends the fine Wa concerts series will already know. Perhaps Mr. Neidich was thinking of Fauré’s remark (I paraphrase): “I think art, and especially music, exists to lift us as far above the human condition as possible.”Mr.  Neidich was elegantly partnered by pianist Mohamed Shams, who absorbed the complex scores and clarified their textures at every turn.

The evening began with the rarely heard early violin and piano sonata by Ravel. In one sonata-form movement, Ravel touches upon his Basque origins on his mother’s side and seems to presage the opening of his Piano Trio, as well as a certain rather turgid chromaticism that he was loathe to return to in his mature works. Apparently the work was performed only once, in 1897, by noted violinist George Enescu and Ravel; its rediscovery, publication, and public world premiere took place in 1975, by Ravel scholar and biographer Arbie Orenstein (piano) with Gerald Tarack on violin. Tonight’s audience was treated to a brief video of Mr. Orenstein at home speaking with Mr. Neidich about the work and showing some of his priceless collection of Ravel autographs. One interesting feature of the work is how “static” many measures in the piano part are, simply repeating patterns and/or chords two-by-two (or four by four)—this should not actually come as a surprise when one leaps forward thirty-one years to the creation of the most repetitive work in the standard orchestra repertoire: Bolero.

The first half concluded with Fauré’s Violin Sonata No. 1 in A major, Op. 13, a work that surges with the passionate heat of his romantic involvement with Marianne Viardot, daughter of famed mid-19th century contralto opera diva Pauline Viardot. The sonata is dedicated to Pauline’s violinist son, Paul Viardot. The engagement did not go well: Fauré was extremely possessive and jealous, neither one had particularly good health, and Marianne broke off relations with Gabriel. We must remember into what a dismal state chamber music had fallen in France at this time. A new French national society had been formed after France’s disastrous defeat in the Franco-Prussian war precisely to remedy this (the sonata was premiered at this society on January 27, 1877, with the composer at the piano and violinist Marie Tayau,). Fauré’s sonata was written ten years before Franck’s sonata in the same key. The performance had lovely and appropriate rubato, which was never excessive. One area in which the clarinet’s limitations show (as substituted for the violin), is in the extreme upper registers. Things that would not be particularly difficult for a string player take on a too-bright quality, though Mr. Neidich sensitively lowered some phrases by an octave—I could have used a bit more rearrangement like that. Also, broken octaves, so idiomatic and easy on violin (string crossing) become obstacle courses for an embouchure. I must mention the gossamer tempo of the scherzo movement, Mr. Shams was brilliantly leggierissimo, as demanded by Fauré. The slow movement was dignified in its mournful tread. In a supreme irony, Fauré’s friend Camille Clerc, convinced prestigious music publisher Breitkopf to take a risk and publish the work, but for a flat fee; one of Fauré’s best-sellers would generate no royalties for him.

After intermission, Mr. Shams took the stage by himself for a performance of Alban Berg’s seminal Piano Sonata, an astonishing “Opus 1,” composed in 1909 and premiered the following year. It is an apotheosis of late-Romanticism, straining at the bounds of tonality without breaking them. I sometimes refer to it as “Brahms’ Opus 219.” An intricate interlocking of motives based on fourths, both melodic and harmonic, leads us through this single-movement sonata (though Mr. Shams omitted the exposition repeat). Practically every note in the work has multiple markings and words written in the score specifying this or that alteration to tempo, dynamic, articulation. All this was organized beautifully by Mr. Shams, and he savored the manifold color changes with a very personal sense of involvement—there are many possible approaches to this score.

The concert concluded with Fauré’s  Violin Sonata No. 2 in E minor, Op. 108, a work of his late years, after the tragic deafness that forced him into a more private, interior world. What is interesting is the way the first movement is actually quite violent emotionally, compared to what one “expects” from the master of charm. This reflects not only anger at his infirmity, but also the murderous raging of World War I during which it was composed. The dedicatee is Elisabeth, Queen of Belgium, a nation that was overrun by that very war. To this day, there exists a music competition in Belgium in her name. This work is not well known, even by musicians, let alone the general public; it seems to speak its own private language. But if one has ears to hear, the subtleties and harmonic audacities are stunning, and the amount of canonic writing (a favorite procedure of Fauré) between solo and right or left hand of the piano is immense. The slow movement is an elegy for a vanishing civilization. Ultimately, the work finishes with a cheerful, sometimes wistful, rondo. Both players were beautifully expressive, though some of the aforementioned register issues surfaced.

After such an esoteric evening, Mr. Neidich curated one more transcription as an encore, another rarely heard violin-piano work, Fauré’s Andante in B-flat major, Op. 75. This genial mid-period work is a recycling of a projected slow movement from a never-completed violin concerto from Fauré’s early period. This contained some of the finest lyricism of the evening, and the players were greeted with the customary loud ovations, prior to the audience’s hastening to the delicious dinner offering prepared by Mr. Neidich’s clarinet/chef spouse, Ayako Oshima.

There remain two more Wa concerts this season. A word to the wise: Wend your way there.

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Wa Concert Series presents Memory and the Expressiveness of Time in Review

Wa Concert Series presents Memory and the Expressiveness of Time in Review

Charles Neidich, clarinet; Vera Beths, violin; Mohamed Shams, piano
Friday, October 20, 2019 at 7:30pm
Tenri Cultural Institute, New York, NY

Wa Concerts, held at the Tenri Cultural Institute, are unique in their pairing of performances at the highest level with insightful musical and philosophical themes, all in an intimate environment that allows the audience to connect with the artists (and to enjoy gourmet offerings throughout the evening). For those of us lucky listeners who have been to one or more of these concerts, we may be getting spoiled, but the revelations continue.

Sunday’s concert, entitled “Memory and the Expressiveness of Time” was one such revelatory program. Its theme could have also related to Austria (with one lone work by German composer Sigfrid Karg-Elert) because most of the program was devoted to the Second Viennese School of music, Schoenberg, Berg, and Webern, with some Schubert representing the retronymic “First” Viennese School. As things stood, though, the chosen title drew the listener into what one could regard as a sort of expressionistic funhouse, each work inspiring meditation on music’s relation to time in intriguing ways.

Introductory comments from Charles Neidich (in his capacity as Director and curator of the Wa series) made reference to the fact that music exists in time, thus establishing the foundation for a program replete with more than the usual temporal illusions and memory manipulations, with phrases and structures appearing compressed, expanded, in retrograde, as palindromes, and so on. One could try to paraphrase, but one might risk doing a disservice to Mr. Neidich’s eloquence, not to mention growing dizzy in the effort! Suffice it to say that, once one has meditated on these phenomena, one listens rather differently.

The concert itself was superbly performed by the three featured musicians, clarinetist Charles Neidich, violinist Vera Beths, and pianist Mohamed Shams. The music began with Berg’s Vier Stücke, Op. 5, for clarinet and piano, played by Mr. Neidich with Mr. Shams at the piano. The duo captured these remarkable miniatures with vivid expressiveness and cohesion. Mr. Neidich, as ever, was one with the music in ways that impress it indelibly upon “the mind’s ear.” Mr. Shams, new to this reviewer, was simply outstanding throughout the evening in a string of wide-ranging challenges. He hails from Egypt, having studied in Cairo, then at the Royal Conservatory of Music in Scotland and the Manhattan School of Music, and he is currently on the faculty of the Hartt School of Music. He has performed widely as soloist and chamber musician and has been winner of numerous distinctions; his greatest distinction, however, is his playing itself, and what this reviewer heard from him reflected keen intellect, sensitivity, and commitment – all of which should keep him much in demand in contemporary music circles.

Schubert’s Violin Sonata in A Major, D. 574 followed, featuring violinist Vera Beths in collaboration with Mr. Shams. Ms. Beths is a veteran of the international music scene, with a particularly strong background in contemporary music. She has premiered many violin concerti, including Isang Yun’s Third Violin Concerto and has collaborated as soloist with numerous distinguished conductors including Haitink, Kondrashin, and Maazel. She is currently Professor at The Royal Conservatory at The Hague and the Sweelinck Academy in Amsterdam and leads the prizewinning period instrument ensemble L’Archibudelli. Though her background certainly prepared one for her excellence in the Berg Kammerkonzert which closed the program, one was struck by her gracious ease in this sublime Schubert work. Of course, music is music, but not every violinist can move so seamlessly from the world of Schoenberg’s school to the music of Schubert – described by Schumann and Stravinsky in heavenly terms, as Mr. Neidich reminded us. The juxtaposition of the early and late Viennese styles was inspired, setting off Schubert’s particular elegance and pacing, and there was a beautiful conversational fluency between Ms. Beths and Mr. Shams.

After intermission we heard Webern’s very famous Variations, Op. 27 played by Mr. Shams. With acute focus and exceptional control, he played from memory, projecting this work’s concise expressiveness to a tee. One marveled at his grasp of this difficult music, but also at the accordion-like flexibility of musical time, as projected from composer to composer.

As if one needed still more food for thought, we heard a composer from the same era, Sigfrid Karg-Elert (1877 – 1933), a student of Reinecke and largely known through works for organ and harmonium. Mr Neidich played his Sonata for Solo Clarinet Op. 110 and it was an extraordinary journey. Mr. Neidich draws a kaleidoscope of sounds from his clarinet, rendering each sound memorable in a way that is essential if one wants the listener to note interval patterns, for example the opening fifths and seconds that recur and appear in retrograde, and so on. It is always interesting to contemplate the role of memory in music, but first comes the act of making it memorable. It was.

The concert closed with Berg’s Adagio from the Kammerkonzert für Klavier und Geige mit 13 Bläsern (Chamber Concerto for Piano and Violin with 13 Wind Instruments), composed in 1925. The Adagio from it was arranged as a separate piece for trio by the composer and was premiered in 1927. The evening’s performers shone in the works expansively expressive gestures and phrases, and one was left wanting to hear it all again and meditate for several more hours. Bravi tutti!

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Wa Concerts presents Intellect and Excitement: The Music of Charles Wuorinen and Milton Babbitt in Review

Wa Concerts presents Intellect and Excitement: The Music of Charles Wuorinen and Milton Babbitt in Review

Charles Neidich, clarinet/bass clarinet; Ayako Oshima, clarinet; Lucy Fitz Gibbon, soprano; Fred Sherry, cello; Tengku Ahmad Irfan, piano; Ryan McCullough, piano; Katie Hyun, violin; Yezu Elizabeth Woo, violin; En-Chi Cheng, viola
Tenri Cultural Institute, New York, NY
December 7, 2018

 

Only the superb artistry of Charles Neidich and his team of great collaborators could make an entire evening of Milton Babbitt and Charles Wuorinen as engaging as it was on Friday night, December 7, 2018, at the Tenri Cultural Institute.

At the end of the Second World War, much of Europe lay in ruins, with unspeakable horrors still being brought to light and costly reconstruction needed everywhere. In 1946, as a manifestation of the continuation of art, a contemporary music festival was founded in Darmstadt, Germany, where it continues to this day. It was renowned for its adherence to uncompromising twelve-tone and serial compositional techniques. It was there that Pierre Boulez made his famous statement (paraphrased here) that “any music that is not serial in nature is worthless.” Unfortunately, many great composers who still believed in arching, yearning lines were either ridiculed, minimized, or completely ignored (until about 35 years ago). Many of the serial composers, comfortably ensconced in academia, consciously turned their backs on the listening public and composed for each other, so to speak. One might argue that the old-fashioned sense of beauty was seen as irrelevant after an age that saw nuclear destruction and the Holocaust.

Milton Babbitt, who lectured at Darmstadt, was one of those intellectually rigorous composers. The disjunct lines, organization of the pitches that are used in any given work, conscious manipulation of rhythms and dynamics according to a plan, lack of any identifiable tonal center, are all hallmarks of the style. For this reviewer, settings of poetry in this idiom are not conducive to text comprehension, but watch out New York, there’s a “new Lucy” in town. Lucy Fitz Gibbon was the excellent soprano on this occasion, beginning with Babbitt’s Quatrains (1993, words by John Hollander). She handled the challenging writing with ease. It is best to listen to the whole combination of sonority to get the emotional expression, rather than any specific text painting. The husband/wife team of clarinetists Charles Neidich and Ayako Oshima blended so well that at time it was difficult to distinguish whether a clarinet was playing or the singer was singing.

Then followed Charles Wuorinen’s Cello Variations II (1975) for solo cello, with veteran Fred Sherry doing the honors brilliantly, from memory. Mr. Wuorinen was in attendance, and he could only have been happy with all the presentations this evening, honoring his eightieth birthday year. Every bit as intellectual as Babbitt, I do notice a slightly warmer tone to much of his music, and a strong sense of pulse that guides the listener through.

Babbitt’s Quintet for clarinet and string quartet (1996) closed the first half with Mr. Neidich at the helm and the fine string quartet players: Katie Hyun and Yezu Elizabeth Woo on violin, En-Chi Cheng on viola, and Fred Sherry again on cello. I’ve always thought this a worthy companion piece to the ubiquitous Brahms quintet; one could program it first, so no one would leave, then play the Brahms as a sort of “consoling” voice, if the Babbitt was perceived as too rigorous.

After intermission, and the customary fine food and beverages that are served, Babbitt returned with My Ends Are My Beginnings (1978), a pun on the medieval motet by Guillaume de Machaut Mon fin est mon commencement, which is a rigorous crab canon. In that age, composers reveled in filling their scores with all manner of learned devices that would only be appreciable to those in the know (sound familiar?). Mr. Neidich played both clarinet and bass clarinet, and was genially unflappable despite a reed mishap early on.

ThenMs. Fitz Gibbon returned with her regular recital partner Ryan McCullough for Wuorinen’s A Song to the Lute in Musicke (1970, text attributed to pre-Elizabethan poet Richard Edwards). The duo is splendidly matched, and Mr. McCullough’s piano handling of the disparate lines is extremely sensitive. They continued with Babbitt’s Du (1951, text by August Stramm, who died at age 41, killed in action in WWI). This is the “oldest” music on the program. Stramm’s terse, darkly expressionist poems were fully inhabited by Ms. Fitz Gibbon, and here the musical language matched the sentiments well.

The concert closed with Wuorinen’s Fortune (1979) for piano trio and clarinet, with Mr. Neidich, Mr. Sherry, Ms. Hyun, and Tengku Ahmad Irfan handling the difficult parts stylishly and with obvious affection. I’m going to assume that the title refers to “chance” or “luck” rather than to wealth; in this case, luck had nothing to do with the performance, which was a display of craft and skill, well-honed. In this music, the pulse was maintained so well that it served as a sort of replacement for traditional tonality, anchoring the listener’s ear through the complex journey. The audience gave everyone a well-deserved standing ovation. Clearly, the thornier aspects of this music do not scare away its adherents, and we learn that intellect can be exciting.

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Wa Concerts presents John Harbison and Joan Tower Birthday Celebration: The enchantment of folklore in Review

Wa Concerts presents John Harbison and Joan Tower Birthday Celebration: The enchantment of folklore in Review

Charles Neidich and Ayako Oshima, clarinet; Sally Chisholm, viola; Mohamed Shams, piano
Tenri Cultural Institute, New York, NY
September 29, 2018

 

The third series of “Wa” concerts opened on Saturday with customary excellence from the superb curator, clarinetist Charles Neidich and his collaborators Ayako Oshima (clarinet), Sally Chisholm (viola), and Mohamed Shams (piano). The intimacy of the Tenri space is really part of the success of these concerts, bringing chamber music back to “the chamber” as it were, surrounded by visual art as well. Besides the double birthday celebration, a sub-theme was the influence of folk music on classical “art” music, whether be from itinerant outdoor players, indigenous/religious cultures, or popular song.

 

On this occasion we were treated not only to the delicious symphony of food and drink prepared lovingly by his wife Ayako Oshima, but also to her deliciously elegant and appropriately humorous clarinet playing in the opening trios (six of the thirteen, Op. 47) by Franz Krommer, a Bohemian composer born three years after Mozart, whose lifespan outlasted those of Haydn, Mozart, Beethoven, and Schubert. No one is going to mistake Krommer for one of those immortals, but in the hands of such stylish virtuosi (along with energetic viola playing by Sally Chisholm), the best possible case was made for these pieces, described by Mr. Neidich as “street music” transformed and sublimated into Austro-Hungarian elegance.

 

Joan Tower and John Harbison both turn 80 this year. Ms. Tower was seated one chair away from me, and she does NOT seem 80, whatever that is supposed to be. She is gregarious, humorous, and of course whip-smart and talented. She introduced her fiendishly difficult clarinet solo Wings (originally titled Panthers, then Falcons, and finally Wings) by acknowledging how important the instrument has been to her for her entire career—that it “can do anything.” And boy did it do everything, in Mr. Neidich’s stunning portrayal. His ascents into the stratospheric regions of the instrument were all the more exciting preceded by the mellow low registers, every note true and melodious, somehow amid the encyclopedia of treacherous pitfalls for the player.

 

After this workout, no ambulance had to be summoned. Instead Mr. Neidich plunged right into Harbison’s The 9 Rasas, for clarinet, viola, and piano, a 2016 work in its New York premiere. Harbison could not be present due to work on a viola sonata for this evening’s violist, Ms. Chisholm. Harbison relates: “It interested me especially that the Rasas were conceived as juices, essences, tastes . . . In my quest to write music of diverse musical characters, and as part of a continuing wayward interest in Hindu culture, I knew even before studying the concept of the Nine Rasas that I would write a piece with that title. I approach such a piece with no intention of a touristic borrowing from the musical speech of that culture, but rather with the pleasure of seizing a musical opportunity. . . According to the Rasa theory of the Natya Shastra, entertainment is a desired effect of performance arts but not the primary goal. The primary goal is to transport the individual in the audience into another parallel reality, full of wonder and bliss, where he experiences the essence of his own consciousness, and reflects on spiritual and moral questions.” And that’s exactly what happened, with faultless unisons between clarinet and viola (always difficult to tune) and perfect ensemble with piano. And may I say, Mr. Shams is fast becoming one of my favorite collaborative chamber pianists in the New York area. His energy, sonority, and humor are seemingly infinite.

 

After intermission, Joan Tower’s music was again heard, this time the 1983 Fantasy (. . . those harbor lights), which contains an un-obvious programmatic reference to a difficult farewell to a romantic partner when she was sixteen, and the popular song that was playing at the time (originally written in 1937, published in 1950, and covered by such notables as Elvis Presley and The Platters). How indelible the sense of hearing can be! The work, for clarinet and piano, depicts (but not slavishly) the twinkling of lights over water, the rocking back and forth of ships, and of course the emotional intensity of the two lovers. It was a highlight of the evening for me, and the performance was preceded by just a few bars of the original song played by Mr. Shams alone. As Mr. Neidich noted, if you were counting on hearing a snippet of the song quoted literally, you were out of luck—transformation of materials at its most rigorous, yet enjoyable.

 

Mr. Shams then played the brief, claveciniste-inspired Minuet (for Joan Tower) by Harbison, the perfect inter-composer tribute, with clarity amid the trills and the modern tonal vocabulary, a sort of “Couperin seen through a fun-house mirror.”

 

The concert concluded with real Gallic “impudence” in the form of Jean Françaix’ antic Trio for clarinet, viola, and piano, brilliantly rendered by these top-of-the-line players. It roared and danced and still had time for crystalline, typically “French” sound. Bravi to all!

 

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Wa Concert Series presents Schubert Masterworks in Review

Wa Concert Series presents Schubert Masterworks in Review

Charles Neidich, clarinet
Smithsonian Chamber Players- Vera Beths, Cynthia Roberts, violins; Steven Dann, viola; Kenneth Slowik, cello; Anthony Manzo, double bass; Andrew Schwartz, bassoon; William Purvis, horn
Tenri Cultural Center, New York, NY
April 21, 2018

 

Clarinetist Charles Neidich impeccably curates a gem of a concert series called Wa (circle, harmony, completeness) at New York’s Tenri Cultural center. Not all of the important musical events in a city as rich in them as New York take place in the “big” venues. Each Wa concert also comes with hand-crafted snacks before the concert and dinner with wine after, made by Mr. Neidich’s wife Ayako Oshima ,herself an accomplished clarinetist. On this occasion, Mr. Neidich enlisted the services of one of the nation’s eminent chamber groups: the Smithsonian Chamber Players, to perform a single masterwork: Schubert’s epic-sized Octet in F major, D. 803.

 

Commissioned by clarinetist Ferdinand Troyer, the Octet was composed in March 1824. The work was premiered at Archduke Rudolf’s home by many of the same musicians who played Beethoven’s Septet. Schubert goes Beethoven one better by adding an additional violin to the instrument group. The Octet’s length was noticed even in 1824; it runs at least one hour depending on repeats, and led Stravinsky (as related in the very complete oral program note by cellist Kenneth Slowik) to say that he “didn’t mind if he occasionally fell asleep during a work by Schubert, since I know I am waking up in Paradise.” After all, isn’t listening to an hour of Schubert better than updating your Instagram feed?

 

These players gave a triumphant reading of the piece, full of sensitive detail and shaping, with full emotional commitment and harmonic direction. In the case of the Octet, as with most of Schubert, remote keys are visited with such rapidity and fluidity that it can all pass by too easily unless the performers make real events from them.

 

I’m tempted to say: “There are only two kinds of clarinetists: Charles Neidich, and everyone else.” Perhaps this is unfair to the many great players out there, but every time I’ve heard Mr. Neidich this season, I come away with the same stunned revelation of superb lyricism coupled with supernatural breath control. He possesses that nearly untranslatable German quality of Innigkeit (inwardness, combined with emotional intensity). He also has a great deal of wa.

 

Mr. Neidich’s assembled team plays period instruments (or faithful modern copies), and this immediately solves any vexing problems of balance, leaving the way open for the players to focus on inspiration, which they possess in abundance. Particularly enjoyable were the contributions of Anthony Manzo, double bass, whose visual involvement with the group was a delight, and bassoonist Andrew Schwartz, whose tone was so mellow I often had to glance around the group to make sure it was coming from him. All played with the highest possible level of musicianship. For an “occasional” work, this score abounds in tricky material, and no player is spared from great technical challenges, all of which have to sound effortless. Vera Beths and Cynthia Roberts handled the violin parts beautifully, and violist Steven Dann had the most delightful pizzicati. Cellist Slowik played with immense lyricism and William Purvis handled the peril-prone valveless horn with his customary aplomb. Ultimately it was the magic created by Mr. Neidich that ruled and was especially heartbreaking in the second movement, appropriate since the work was commissioned by a clarinetist.

 

At the beginning of the last movement, we hear what Alfred Brendel calls “the trembling of the syphilitic” dramatized by the ensemble, a window into Schubert’s lifelong “Todesahnung” (presentiment of death), especially poignant since he was just re-entering musical and social life after a spurious mercury treatment for his syphilis. The melodic fragment heard over the tremolo strongly resembles one of Schubert’s Schiller settings: Die Götter Griechenlands (The Greek Gods, 1819), which opens with the line “Schöne Welt, wo bist Du?” (Beautiful world, where art Thou?), the entire Romantic period summed up in one line. The entire “trembling” episode then serves merely as the introduction to a foot-stomping folk-like song/dance that had numerous audience members vainly resisting to tap their feet.

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Wa Concert Series Presents Hidden Masterpieces in Review

Wa Concert Series Presents Hidden Masterpieces in Review

Charles Neidich, clarinet; Mariko Furukawa, piano;
The Parker Quartet, Daniel Chong, violin; Kristopher Tong, violin;
Jessica Bodner, viola; Kee-Hyun Kim, cello
The Tenri Cultural Institute of New York, New York, NY
March 11, 2018

 

A riveting program of clarinet music, artfully curated by Charles Neidich, was heard Sunday, March 11, at the Tenri Institute. It included works by Mieczysław Weinberg (1919-1996), Vassily Lobanov (b. 1947), and Alexander Lokshin (1920-1987), three musicians who composed with great power and originality through years of Soviet oppression. Aptly named “Hidden Masterpieces” this program’s treasures have gradually been pulled from an obscurity that came not from mere happenstance but from countless deliberate obstacles including condemnations, imprisonments, murders of family and friends, threats, and lies. Some of this music has only in the past few decades become familiar to musicians, let alone the wider public, so a concertgoer might have been satisfied with the novelty of readings by even a journeyman clarinetist; on the contrary, though, we heard none other than Charles Neidich himself, who could be described (and has been) as arguably the finest clarinetist in the world. What a concert!

In his dual role as performer and Artistic Director of the Wa series, Mr. Neidich spoke eloquently about each work and composer, and then played with near-superhuman skill and intensity. He clearly has studied this music and history deeply and personally, including having been the first Fulbright grant recipient to study in the then Soviet Union in 1975, attending the Moscow Conservatory for three years; he shares his scholarship and experience, though, with disarmingly natural ease. His spoken introductions were not dry, academic lectures, but rather crystalized insights that went to the heart of the music itself.

Introducing Mieczysław Weinberg’s Sonata Op. 28 for clarinet and piano, Mr. Neidich commented on the special tendency of Soviet composers to keep musical “diaries” of a sort, a comment that illuminated the stretches of what Mr. Neidich referred to as almost “banal” music, or the somewhat more prosaic writing that alternated with more dramatic musical moments. One could hear such narrative unfolding in the Weinberg Sonata, and Mr. Neidich’s interpretation had an inevitability that made it irresistible. Particularly stirring were the recurring suggestions of klezmer melody, inflected with utter soulfulness. In its entirety, the work had a deeply moving impact. Because its thoughtful construction emerged most fully in retrospect, it seems that future hearings should serve only to reinforce its important place in the clarinet repertoire.

The evening’s superb collaborator, Mariko Furukawa, went beyond pianistic precision to plumb the depths of this extremely demanding music right with Mr. Neidich. Together they held the capacity audience spellbound.

Haunting this listener long after the concert ended was the comment by Mr. Neidich, that during his Fulbright studies in Moscow in the 1970’s (even shortly after the death of Dmitri Shostakovich, a close friend of Weinberg’s) one simply did not hear of Weinberg. As Mr. Neidich said, “I knew nothing of his existence.” The Lokshin story was similarly heartbreaking. Lest this reader feel as despondent as this reviewer felt over it all, a renaissance for these composers seems well underway. For the sake of thoroughness, it will require a great deal of time, but one is extremely grateful to those such as Mr. Neidich who are infusing this music with new life.

Following Weinberg’s Clarinet Sonata came the Sonata for clarinet and piano by composer-pianist Vassily Lobanov (b. 1947). We were told that Mr. Lobanov had composed the Sonata in the 1980’s and given a copy to Mr. Neidich in 1990. The two musicians are good friends and happen to seem quite well matched musically. If the Weinberg Sonata had struck one as wide in range, the Lobanov work took things to even more intensely dramatic levels. Composed in a language not alien to the Soviet style of his day but also, as Mr. Neidich stated, with some influence from the Russian Orthodox tradition, the work is one of huge emotional scope. It drew upon Mr. Neidich’s incredible variety of timbres and dynamics, along with those of Ms. Furukawa. They held the audience rapt through the musical journey, from quietest whispers and long lines to frenzied repeated motives and cataclysmic explosions and back. By the end one felt exhausted but awakened. It should be a vehicle for virtuoso clarinetists to champion, if they can!

What could possibly follow these works? Even after an intermission with bountiful refreshments provided by Mr. Neidich’s wife, Ayako Oshima, also an internationally known clarinetist, the second half was a good point at which to expand the personnel, and Mr. Neidich, with an impresario’s instincts, enlisted the dynamic Grammy-winning Parker Quartet to join him in the American premiere of Alexander Lokshin’s Quintet for clarinet and strings. It was a high-voltage convergence of forces, five stellar musicians in service to a profoundly moving and original work. The ensemble was tightly knit, and the interpretation was potent and cohesive. This quintet begs for further performances, but it would be hard to top the pairing of the Parker and Mr. Neidich.

A word of explanation about Lokshin: he had been known early in his life as a leading expert on Mahler and Stravinsky and had been declared “a genius” by Shostakovich. He was not surprisingly denounced by the Soviet authorities as “decadent” and a “formalist” for the very reasons that his music may be treasured, as a natural outgrowth of the music of the preceding century. Once Stalin had died, Lokshin might have found a certain improved situation, and his 1955 clarinet quintet does reflect some flickers of optimism; tragically, though, he was also accused (falsely, as has only been settled in recent years) of being NKVD-KGB informer and was thus ostracized by even those who would have rallied to his side. In summary, for those wondering why an American premiere is occurring 31 years after the composer’s death and 63 years after the composition date, such tragic and criminal injustice is why – the morass of Soviet slander and obfuscation is slow to unravel. What is encouraging, though, is that there are always those interested in digging for the truth and for artistic treasure, no matter how many years later.

Profound appreciation and admiration go to Mr. Neidich – and to other artists who champion the music of the Soviet composers who endured so much – and huge congratulations are in order for a most meaningful and successful concert. One hopes that Mr. Neidich will share these interpretations more widely, both live and in recording – as the works deserve it – and one hopes that their renaissance will be in just proportion to the chilling decades of silence.

For upcoming concerts, not to be missed, one can visit www.waconcertseries.com

 

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Tenri Cultural Institute presents Wa Concert Series- The Originality of Greatness: Celebrating Elliott Carter’s 109th Birthday in Review

Tenri Cultural Institute presents Wa Concert Series- The Originality of Greatness: Celebrating Elliott Carter’s 109th Birthday in Review

Charles Neidich, Ayako Oshima, clarinet; Alexi Kenney, violin; Fred Sherry, cello; Lucy Shelton, Amber Evans, sopranos; Mohamed Shams, piano; John Link, musicologist
Tenri Cultural Institute, New York, NY
December 16, 2017

 

Only a musician with unforced naturalness of phrasing, total command of his instrument, and a puckish humor such as is possessed by Charles Neidich, could make an entire evening of Elliott Carter’s thorny chamber music approachable. He also assembled a team of superlative collaborators—four of the evening’s seven musicians had major experience working with Carter, including close personal friendships. This kind of advocacy is crucial if his music is to stay in the repertoire. Carter died just five years ago, a couple of weeks shy of his 104th birthday, and he was composing virtually up to the end of his long, productive life.

In illuminating remarks by John Link, it became clear that Carter viewed the lion’s share of his music as representing vivid characters. Each note had to be played with the fierce delineation that he had in mind, whether that represented one character with conflicting emotions, or interplay between several characters. Carter did not compose unless he was truly emotionally motivated to do so, even though the popular perception of his output is one of atonality and layers of rhythmic complexity (which are certainly there!). Most of Carter’s works have what I call an “arch” shape, with a satisfying sense of rightness to their endings; although some just end abruptly, like a candle flame being blown out. Carter’s curiosity was relentless, exploring literature, languages, and food with intensity and humor.

Mr. Neidich opened the evening, partnered by the evening’s excellent pianist Mohamed Shams, with the easy-to-take Pastorale, it was the earliest work on the program, showing some of the late-romantic traditions Carter would leave behind definitively. Hiyoku (Two Wings) for two clarinets had Mr. Neidich in duo with his wife Ayako Oshima, also a phenomenal clarinetist, as well as the chef behind the prodigious feasts laid out for all the audiences at these Wa concerts. Their ensemble was understandably perfect. Mr. Shams shone in the Two Thoughts About The Piano solos, the second of which, Caténaires, was a blistering perpetual motion toccata that seemed powered by nuclear energy. Duettino brought together violinist Alexi Kenney and veteran Carter specialist, cellist Fred Sherry (former artistic advisor of the Chamber Music Society of Lincoln Center, founder of Speculum Musicae and Tashi), sharing violent alternations of bowed and plucked notes with equal ferocity.

Another lifelong devotee of the contemporary music world, Lucy Shelton, shared duties with a younger soprano, Amber Evans, in the Poems of Louis Zukofsky. Here, Ms. Shelton’s years of commanding performance showed her total mastery not only of the difficult music, but intelligibility of every word; her attentiveness to the clarinet showed her fabulous attention to detail, while never removing emotion from her often witty presentation. Ms. Evans’ songs had more difficult tessiturae, perhaps that impeded some of the words, but her voice was true and powerful. I’m sure Carter was, as mentioned before, moved by this poetry, but I find that his settings often do “get in the way” of the words, my limitation I’m sure.

After the intermission of this long evening,Mr. Kenney, Mr.Neidich, and Mr. Sherry combined to present the Omaggio a Italo Calvino, as Con leggerezza pensosa was known. These players exude the Carter style with utter naturalness. Then Mr. Neidich played the brief solo Gra, which led me to wonder if the title was the Gaelic word for love. Alexi Kenney was brilliant in the solo violin work Rhapsodic Musings. I regard this as Carter’s answer to Ravel’s Tzigane, and Mr. Kenney’s intonation and style were perfection itself, with every double stop interval of a seventh (and they are cruel!) as pure as one can imagine.

Finally came the staple of Carter’s chamber offerings, the great Sonata for Cello and Piano from 1948 (revised in 1966). This four movement behemoth was dispatched with firm command and a wide variety of colors by Mr. Sherry and Mr.  Shams. It doesn’t sound nearly as forbidding as it looks on the page, and even makes sly nods to tonality (heavily disguised) and the old Dies Irae that had so fascinated composers from Berlioz to Liszt and Rachmaninoff. Forgive me, Elliott, for noticing! The work is also cyclic, that is themes from the first movement reappear at the end, adding to the work’s comprehensibility, as did this perfect performance. The enthusiastic audience really hollered its approval after it was over.

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Tenri Cultural Institute presents Wa Concert Series- Emotion & Intellect: Robert Schumann and Max Reger in Review

Tenri Cultural Institute presents Wa Concert Series- Emotion & Intellect: Robert Schumann and Max Reger in Review

Charles Neidich, clarinet and artistic director
Mariko Furukawa, piano
Tenri Cultural Institute, New York, NY
November 10, 2017

 

Charles Neidich displayed several facets of his immense talent on Friday night during one of his well-curated “Wa” concerts. “Wa” is a word that means “circle” or “harmony, completeness,” and these values were abundantly in evidence, from the intelligent programming of works by Robert Schumann and Max Reger, to the divine performance, the genial verbal introductions and context-setting, and the pre- and post-concert feast and wine by his wife Ayako Oshima (also a fine clarinetist). The intimate setting of the Tenri Institute was perfect for this event.

 

Interestingly, all the Schumann pieces were transcriptions, since he didn’t really create for clarinet and piano duo. Mr. Neidich and his superb collaborator Mariko Fukuwara opened with Fünf Stücke im Volkston, Op. 102 (Five Pieces in Folk-style), originally for cello. They imbued the set with all the verve it requires and were seamlessly coordinated in every nuance.

 

Then followed the huge clarinet and piano sonata by Max Reger, Op. 49, No. 1. When one hears Mr. Neidich, one really doesn’t think about the instrument, only the music, so unified is he with the clarinet that it is never an issue. I can’t imagine a better performance than this one of this complicated piece, every whisper and yearning was conveyed with utter sensitivity, from both players. Again, Ms. Fukuwara handled the difficult piano part with complete transparency, no easy feat in this repertoire.

 

After intermission, they lightened the tone a bit by sampling two of Reger’s shorter works, the delightful Tarantella (WoO II/12) and Albumblatt (WoO II/13). This is a distinctly German interpretation of the tarantella from Reger, indeed, no one is going to dance out their spider venom with this one, but it is lovely nevertheless.

 

Then after some pointed introduction, Mr. Neidich and Ms. Furukawa performed a virtually unknown Schumann sonata (Op. posth. WoO 2) that was originally composed for violin, re-using the two movements Schumann had contributed to the joint F.A.E.- Frei aber einsam (“free but lonely”) sonata, adding two prior movements of his own, very late in his life. As Mr. Neidich poignantly reminded us, Clara Schumann was such a zealous guarder of her husband’s legacy and reputation that she burned the work, thinking it beneath Schumann, though she did perform it a few times with Joseph Joachim. A sketchy manuscript copy of those first two movements was located recently in a library, hence it does survive. It has all the Schumann characteristics, the way he “behaves” in A Minor, one of his favorite tonalities. The fourth movement is a veritable hell-hole of difficulty, stemming from its violinistic figurations—this inspired Mr. Neidich’s most overtly virtuosic playing of the evening, and earned him well-deserved uproarious applause.

 

For an encore, the pair reached into another obscure Schumann corner: the Abendlied, Op. 85 No. 12, originally for piano four-hands. It was a lovely way to end a rare and valuable evening.

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New York Concert Review Round-Up for 2009-10

New York Concert Review Round-Up for 2009-10

Even the best-intentioned reporter cannot cover all the concerts of the New York season. Here are some highlights that got left behind

Two violinists presented spectacular recitals: Joshua Bell with his frequent partner Jeremy Denk, and Augustin Hadelich with the esteemed collaborative artist Rohan De Silva. Hadelich, making his New York debut, played in the Frick Collection’s intimate auditorium; Bell played in Carnegie Hall, whose size hardly suited his program of sonatas by Bach, Saint-Saëns, Schumann and Ravel. But his brilliant technique and glorious, intense tone came through, as did his elegance, romantic ardor, and passionate involvement. Hadelich, winner of the 2006 Indianapolis Violin Competition, is every inch a virtuoso. He reveled in the fireworks of Ysaÿe’s “Ballade” and Saraste’s “Carmen Fantasy,” and filled Prokofiev’s second Sonata with sunshine and charm.

The American String Quartet played Beethoven’s daunting Op. 127 with admirable technical and tonal control, poise and expressiveness. With violist Michael Tree, Brahms’ G major Quintet sounded rich, romantic and exuberant; the Finale had true Gypsy abandon. The Orion Quartet also performed Brahms in G-major (the Sextet, with violist Hsin-Yun Huang and cellist Barbara Mallow), along with Beethoven, Bartók, Mozart and Smetana. Perhaps influenced by the prevailing fashion, they have been over-projecting recently, but their playing is always deeply felt and beautiful.

The Tokyo Quartet continued its Beethoven cycle with a warm, serene performance of Op. 59 No. 2, notable for the seamless continuity of its lines. Formed 20 years ago, the Leipzig Quartet displayed remarkable transparency in Haydn’s “Sunrise” Quartet; wrenching grief in Mendelssohn’s F-minor Quartet; longing and passion in Janácek’s “Intimate Letters.” The Panocha Quartet, founded in 1968 at the Prague Conservatory, is distinguished by its limpid tone, simplicity, and unaffected eloquence. An early Mozart Quartet was lovely; Martinu’s cheerful No. 7 (1947) incorporated both his native Czech and jazzy American idioms. In Dvorák’s great Op. 106, the players relished the luscious melodies and spiky Slavic rhythms while weaving a tapestry of independent voices.

Festival Chamber Music, a rotating group of freelance musicians, presented an unusual program in delightful performances: Milhaud’s humorous Suite for clarinet, violin and piano; Beethoven’s lyrical, exuberant Trio for clarinet, cello and piano Op. 38, transcribed from his Septet; songs by Amy Beach with violin and cello obbligatos, and Schubert’s “Shepherd on the Rock.” Cellist/director Ruth Sommers, violinist Theodore Arm and soprano Amy Cofield Williamson were excellent; pianist Hélène Jeanney and clarinetist Charles Neidich, the program’s busiest participants, captured the music’s diverse moods and styles with soloistic brilliance and collaborative sensitivity.

To celebrate his 85th birthday, Pierre Boulez conducted the Chicago Symphony Orchestra in two concerts featuring Béla Bartók: the Concerto for two pianos and percussion, splendidly performed by Pierre–Laurent Aimard and Tamara Stefanovich, and “Bluebeard’s Castle,” sung with mesmerizing impact (in Hungarian) by Michelle DeYoung and Falk Struckmann. The orchestra’s principal flutist Mathieu Dufour played Marc-André Dalbavie’s Concerto brilliantly; the orchestra showed its virtuosity and wonderful sound in works by Ravel, Boulez, and Stravinsky’s “Firebird.”

Boulez shared conducting duties with Daniel Barenboim when Carnegie Hall invited the Vienna Philharmonic to open its season with three concerts. The orchestra sounded glorious; intonation and balance were perfect; the playing was rich and homogeneous, yet clear. Except for two Beethoven symphonies, the programs departed from the orchestra’s usual fare with substantial works by Schoenberg, Webern and Boulez. In the first concert, Barenboim’s “Pastoral” Symphony was expansively lyrical; juxtaposing the lush, sensuous finale of Wagner’s “Tristan” with Schoenberg’s Variations demonstrated the birth of a new style from the ashes of the old one. A noisy exodus of disgruntled listeners midway caused Barenboim to announce an encore “for those who stayed” – a fast and furious Johann Strauss Polka.

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