Distinguished Concerts International New York (DCINY) presents The Music of Dinos ConstantinidesIn Homage to the University of Macedonia – Greece
Yova Milanova and Dimitris Chandrakis, violin; Michael Gurt and Maria Asteriadou, piano; Athanasios Zervas, saxophone; Dimitris Patras, cello
Weill Recital Hall at Carnegie Hall; New York, NY
November 20, 2015
The music of Dinos Constantinides is so well-crafted that it is easy to forget the sophistication behind it. A generous helping of his chamber music was offered, played by numerous musicians of Greek descent. On this evening, the performers were uniformly excellent, which afforded the reviewer the opportunity to focus on the (mostly) merits of the music, confident that it was receiving the best possible rendition, both in terms of technical achievement and emotional commitment.
I see by this program that Mr. Constantinides has a catalogue system now, the “LRC” numbers. I’m assuming that the early numbers represent the earliest compositions. These, notably the Piano Trio No. 1 and the Sonata for Violin and Piano, both heard here, are in the astringent “12-tone” style that composers “had” to adopt in order to be taken seriously by academia back in the post-WWII climate until about 30 years ago. Luckily, such restrictions are a thing of the past, and Mr. Constantinides’ style is more poignant and expansive when he uses folk or folk-inspired material from his homeland.
However, in both the Sonata and Trio, Mr. Constantinides uses the “tone row” in a very “romantic” way, full of yearning lines and often beautiful sonorities. He also builds arch or three-part forms that are easily graspable by the ear. Sometimes the gesture is more important than the notes of which it is composed.
For me, the standouts of the evening were two. First, the Fantasia for Stelios and Yiannis, a duo for violin and cello. It had a sombre, elegiac quality, doubtless inspired by the homesickness for friends from his school days who have passed away. It was lovingly rendered by Dimitris Chandrakis and Dimitris Patras.
Second, the China IV—Shenzhen, Concerto for Cello and Piano. This long-titled work was beautifully played by Mr. Patras and the vivid (sometimes too loud) pianist Maria Asteriadou. A cadenza-like section played by cello alone with pizzicato notes and sustained legato simultaneously was gorgeous. It did indeed behave like a concerto and not a sonata for cello and piano. This is an interesting genre to add to the possibilities of the chamber music repertoire; and I wouldn’t mind hearing the piano part orchestrated. Mr. Constantinides is a great re-fashioner of his own works.
I always like to ask myself with regard to programmatic music: If some future musicologists were to find the manuscripts with the titles cut off, would the music be appreciable on its own? In terms of China IV, the answer is a resounding yes, although if I hadn’t seen the title, I would have had absolutely no image of a modern Chinese city. The same was true of the dazzling Celestial Musings for alto saxophone solo. It was brilliantly played by Athanasios Zervas, but musically there was really no recognizable symbolization of earth, air, fire, and water, except to take the composer’s own sincere note.
The presence of solo saxophone in a concert of chamber music is unusual. Played with such versatile virtuosity as it was here, it would be a welcome added resource, to be heard more often. The Recollections for solo saxophone was lively, involving hearty foot-stomping.
Ensemble was absolutely excellent between Yova Milanova and Michael Gurt in the Landscape V for violin and piano and the Sonata for violin and piano. Cellist Patras was passionate in the Ballade for the Hellenic Land for solo cello. The tiny Dialogue for violin and cello was wittily and deftly dispatched by Mr. Chandrakis and Mr. Patras. Only the Impressions II for alto saxophone and piano seemed a bit “dramatic” (as was noted by the New York Times some years back), I’d have to say a bit overly so, almost wild, and perhaps just a bit overblown. It broke into a sort of humorous “drunken” waltz twice, a tone that struck me as inappropriate in light of what had been established. Perhaps I’m just not on Mr. Constantinides’ wavelength here.
All in all, a distinguished concert indeed. I’m certain Mr. Constantinides’ composition students are very fortunate to have such humane guidance from a musician who obviously has a lot of heart. He took the stage humbly at the end, visually a sort of cross between an elf and Santa Claus, and remained mostly with his back to the audience, thanking his wonderful performers for bringing his visions to life.
