The Sounds of War and Peace (DCINY): Chapter 2- The Music of Karl Jenkins

Distinguished Concerts International New York (DCINY)
The Sounds of War and Peace: Chapter 2- The Music of Karl Jenkins
Distinguished Concerts Orchestra, Distinguished Concerts Singers International
Jonathan Griffith, Music Director; Karl Jenkins, Composer-in-Residence.
Stern Auditorium, Carnegie Hall; New York, NY
January 21, 2013
 
"The Sounds of War and Peace: Chapter 2"

“The Sounds of War and Peace: Chapter 2”

“The Sounds of War and Peace,” a two-evening event begun January 20th, continued on January 21st with Chapter 2 – The music of Karl Jenkins. The United States premiere (and second performance worldwide) of Songs of the Earth was programmed with The Armed Man: A Mass for Peace and its accompanying film (also entitled The Armed Man), and it had the promise of being a fascinating evening.

The Armed Man: A Mass for Peace is probably the most frequently performed work by Karl Jenkins; in fact, it might be one of the most frequently performed works of any contemporary classical composer. Since its premiere in April 2000, The Armed Man has been performed worldwide well over 1000 times – an average of twice a week.  Although I have heard this work on recording countless times and know it well, a live performance of The Armed Man is an experience that never ceases to move me.

The Armed Man is a thirteen-movement work for orchestra, chorus and vocal soloists. Using the 15th century French song L’homme Armé as a starting point, the theme is that the armed man must be feared – an idea that is still with us in the 21st century. Using sections of the Latin Mass, the Bible, The Mahabharata, and words from Kipling, Dryden, Tennyson, Mallory, Swift, Togi Sankichi, and Guy Wilson, this hour-long work is a journey through the preparations for battle, prayers for deliverance, the call to arms, the horrors of the battle, and its aftermath, with the final declaration that “peace is better than always war”.

The accompanying film I have always had mixed feelings about. It was premiered in its current form in Johannesburg, South Africa in September 2007. The images are powerful and often disturbing, as I am sure was the intent, to highlight the horrors of war.  Quoting Jenkins, the film “greatly enhances the musical performances and inevitably leaves the audience emotionally drained, often in tears.”  I understand Jenkins’ viewpoint, but I also believe the music is powerful enough to stand on its own without any imagery.

Conductor Jonathan Griffith knows this work well and his mastery was immediately obvious.  His steady leadership kept everything under control, even deftly tackling a small ensemble problem in the “Better is Peace” movement that could have turned into a disaster. He brought it back on-track almost instantly. The Distinguished Concerts Orchestra played, especially the percussion section, with the fire this work demands. The chorus was well-prepared and a worthy collaborator to the orchestra. It was notable that the sopranos did not crash on the jagged rocks of “Charge!” in which the high A’s have claimed countless victims. Highlights included the cello solo in the Benedictus, and Iman Shamsi Ali in his off-stage Adhaan. The four vocal soloists were all impressive in their roles, limited though they were. My one disappointment was the surprisingly timid brass in the “Charge!” This was a time for them to really come to the fore and it just did not happen. All-in-all, it was a inspired performance that was held the listener from the opening snare drum marching cadence, to the chorus singing the healing words of Revelation 21:4, to end the work.

The Vocal Ensemble Brevis, an all-female choir from Croatia took to the stage to open the second half. Led by Antoaneta Radocaj-Jakovic, they presented works from the Croatian composers Josip Hatze (1879-1959) and Slavko Zlatić (1910-1961).  Hatze’s  Ljuven Sanak  (Sweet Dreams) was especially soothing after the emotionally demanding first half of the concert. Zlatić’s Varijacije na nardonu temu (Variations on a Folk Theme) was an interesting work that deserves to better known.  It was disappointing that the program notes omitted any information about the composers, the pieces, or the ensemble. This excellent assemblage deserved its proper recognition.  As a way to bridge the two large Jenkins works, the ensemble ended with his Adiemus, which they performed with great energy and polish.

While the orchestra and chorus members returned to the stage, Griffith invited Karl Jenkins to the stage to have an impromptu discussion about his new work, Songs of the Earth. Jenkins told the audience that the work came from a commission from the Cultural Olympics. He decided to use the idea of Greek mythology as the basis for the work. Jenkins’ “invented language”, first used in the Adiemus project, was the text for Songs of the Earth. Jenkins explained this gives the composer great flexibility in tone and rhythm in the vocal writing. The six movements were selected because Jenkins found them “musically stimulating” as opposed to following any defined story lines.

Songs of the Earth is an interesting combination of the early Jenkins (Adiemus and the jazz influences from his Soft Machine days) with the larger works, such as The Armed Man, Stabat Mater, and The Peacemakers. The opening movement,” Khaos”, is aptly titled. An improvised saxophone solo plays over the pulsating rhythms of the orchestra and the chorus. It has a primordial quality suggesting the birth of the unformed universe. The second movement, “Gaia: Mother Earth” has the chorus chanting her name over and over in a worshipful manner or ritualistic adoration. “Ouranos and the Heavens”, the third movement, has an ethereal quality, with a singing violin solo and another improvised saxophone solo. The fourth movement, “Dance of the Titans”, with its ever changing meter (one bar 7/8, the next bar 3/4, then the pattern repeats), has a quirky feeling that at times boarders on the grotesque. “Tethys, Goddess of Fountains and Stream”, the fifth movement, has a flowing, water-like feel that the title suggests and features another extended saxophone solo. The final movement, “The Pit of Tartarus” has a relentless driving energy that is strongly akin to the Paradisi Gloria from Jenkins’ own Stabat Mater.

Mr. Jenkins should be pleased at the fine performance of his new work which made it a great success. Congratulations are in order for the chorus from Pennsburry, Pennsylvania (consisting of the High School Concert and Women’s Concert choirs with the Community Chorus), the Distinguished Concerts Orchestra, and conductor Griffith, who combined their considerable talents to make it all come together. Songs of the Earth should take its place with other of Mr. Jenkins’ popular works, and I’m sure his many fans will be looking forward to future performances.

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

Oberlin Orchestra in Review

Oberlin Orchestra
Raphael Jimenez, conductor
Jeremy Denk, piano
Carnegie Hall
January 19, 2013
Oberlin College

Oberlin Orchestra; Photo Credit: Chris Lee

The Oberlin Orchestra sounded polished and impressive in their Carnegie Hall Concert on January 19th. The music was challenging, including Ravel’s “La Valse” and Stravinsky’s “Firebird” (1919), and the young players rose to the occasion, sounding highly professional–especially in the execution of complex rhythms. The percussion nailed those complexities with ease and solidity of sound, the brass and winds were expressive and noble–even during tricky sections, and the strings were clear and energetic at all times. In Ravel’s “La Valse”, for example, the violins employed every bow stroke, vibrato and portamento with precision and unity.

One could quibble with the lack of sheer tonal strength in the strings, but this may have been due to the brass and percussion overpowering them at times. Or it may have been due to the inferior quality of some of the string instruments (after all, not every student can afford something top-notch yet). Here is something a little esoteric: the influence of the major orchestra in town could enter the attitudes of the major conservatory in town. In other words, it may be that the sound of the pristine, elegant Cleveland Orchestra is in the air.The Oberlin Orchestra in many ways sounded like a young Cleveland Orchestra: polished and elegant, but not necessarily powerfully robust–and that is not a negative, but simply a tradmark characteristic. Conductor Raphael Jimenez did a wonderful job of balancing the sections of the Ravel and Stravinsky, and bringing out the various colors in Christopher Rouse’s “Iscariot”, a dissonant work reminiscent of Ives, from 1989. All these works require an excellent navigator for the heavy orchestration, and Jimenez made these textures transparent. He also deserves credit for preparing the ensemble so well. Most of these young musicians have never played in Carnegie Hall, and any nerves were tempered by Jimenez’s controlled, collected podium style. That said, Jimenez might have allowed for more abandonment and chaos in certain sections of the Ravel. This is a not an effervescent, ebullient Johann Strauss Jr. Waltz, but rather a parody of it–music that gets more and more out of control.

Rouse, an outstanding composer who is Composer-in-Residence of the New York Philharmonic and an Oberlin alumnus (graduating class of 1971), made a welcome onstage appearance.  A younger alumnus, the accomplished Jeremy Denk (a 1990 graduate), performed Mozart’s Piano Concerto No. 21 in C Major, K. 467. Denk gave an impressively speedy and facile performance, but one that still found time to be sensitive to all the music’s phrasing and harmonic shifts. The ensemble between orchestra and soloist was superbly homogenius. The quality of the strings and winds was very high, imbued with clarity of rhythm and excellent intonation.

This evening at Carnegie Hall was a wonderful celebration of Oberlin’s depth of talent and the school’s and students’ accomplishments. Oberlin is no doubt a great place to be if you want to make a deep impact as a musician.

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

The Sounds of War and Peace (DCINY): Chapter 1 in Review

Distinguished Concerts International New York (DCINY)
The Sounds of War and Peace: Chapter 1
Distinguished Concerts Orchestra, Distinguished Concerts Singers International
Francisco J. Núñez, composer/conductor; Jonathan Willcocks, composer/conductor
Stern Auditorium, Carnegie Hall; New York, NY
January 20, 2013
 
DCINY

The Sounds of War and Peace: Chapter 1

 

Distinguished Concerts International New York (DCINY), well-known for themed programs, created a concert series called “The Sounds of War and Peace”.  Over two nights, each “chapter” focuses on music that expresses not only the horrors of war and its aftermath, but also the idea of peace through the idea of multi-cultural understanding and cooperation.  On January 20, 2013, Chapter 1 was performed- the first half “peace”, and after intermission, “war”.

The first half, featuring elementary and middle school-aged performers from Georgia, Connecticut, Texas, Pennsylvania, and Maryland was conducted by the multi-talented Francisco J. Núñez.  Billed in the program as “Music for Future Peacemakers”, it was a selection of works that could be best described as having the qualities of child-like innocence, rather than having any more overt “peace “message. It was more William Blake than Mohandas Gandhi.  Opening with Kayama from Adiemus: Songs of Sanctuary by Karl Jenkins, the night got off to a good start. One of Jenkins’ earlier works, it already incorporates many elements of what could be called his signature sound – an easily sung melody combined with the flavor of diverse multi-cultural influences, especially in percussion and rhythm. The “words” of this piece are invented and are not part of any recognizable language, lending it what the program notes described as a  “tribal” sound.  It was given a joyful performance.  Dôme épais, better known as the “Flower duet”, from Leo Delibes’ Lakmé followed. The soprano and mezzo-soprano soloists (whose names were not mentioned) sang this favorite with polish in an arrangement by Núñez. The chorus was challenged by the some of the upper register sections, not at all surprising considering the age of the performers.  It did seem to be a curious selection that did not really fit in with the other works or the theme of the concert itself. Three Dominican Folk Songs, as arranged by Núñez, captured the essence of nursery songs. From the playful, to the poignant, and even to the mocking, the young performers brought it all to life.  After this whimsy, a more serious selection was in order, and selections from Misa Pequeña Para Niños (A Children’s Mass) fulfilled this. Composed by Núñez in memory of his father, it is a fitting tribute written by a composer who has a great understanding of the limitations and possibilities of the child’s voice.  The three selected movements were rendered with great feeling and in conjunction with the “big sound” of the orchestra elicited from the young performers a collective sound beyond their years.  The remaining selections brought back the spirit of joy and hope. The polyrhythmic clapping in Aaron Siegel’s The Light Come Down was a highlight of the evening and brought the crowd’s roaring approval. Sesere Eeye, complete with hands waving, jumps, and leaning forward, was the signal that the fun was back, which continued in Oye by Jim Papoulis.  Even Núñez got into the act, dancing at the podium while the singers spun around in their own dance, reminiscent of Gustavo Dudamel with the Simón Bolívar Youth Orchestra.  Ending with the anthem-like Give Us Hope from Papoulis, the hearts of the audience were won over completely. It was truly touching to see the smiles and excitement on the faces of the young performers – a memory that will be with them always.

The adults took to the stage for the “war” second half- the Carnegie Hall premier of A Great and Glorious Victory, conducted by the work’s composer Jonathan Willcocks.  This work was commissioned to mark the bicentenary of the Battle of Trafalgar. Scored for tenor soloist, chorus and orchestra mirroring Haydn in his Nelson Mass, the four movements use words from the Latin Requiem Mass, the Book of Common Prayer, and contemporary accounts of the events, including Nelson’s.

This four- movement work not only commemorates the well-known battle and it’s most famous personality, Admiral Nelson, but a much lesser-known event that occurred after the battle. A terrible storm after the battle had finished threatened all the combatants and in the spirit of cooperation and brotherhood, they put their differences aside and aided the others regardless of nationality.

The first movement, Preparation, is a solemn prelude to the coming battle. One can feel the rising tensions as there are prayers for strength and hope of victory. The second, Conflict, has the chorus singing the Dies Irae while the tenor soloist is singing the words of Nelson at the same time.  It was an inspired idea that highlighted the idea of battle.  Eventually, the battle slows and the Lacrymosa quietly ends the movement. Storm, the third movement, featured the tenor soloist singing off-stage (in this case, in the balcony) from the Book of Common Prayer asking for deliverance from the terrible storm. Finally, the last movement, Reconciliation, highlights the ideal of a new peace, where the former enemies cast aside their differences. It ends with the tenor soloist singing off-stage while his voice fades to silence. The composer refers to this movement as the heart of the work.

Willcocks proved to be an effective and engaging conductor, while tenor soloist Daniel Shirley’s voice soared over the large forces with strength and clarity. The DCINY orchestra played with intensity and brought out both the savage and the sublime. The large chorus was well prepared and sang with great fervor and passion.  A Great and Glorious Victory wasn’t composed with DCINY in mind, but it is a work they could make their own.  It was a memorable performance. 

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

Jean Muller in Review

Jean Muller, piano
Weill Recital Hall at Carnegie Hall, New York, N.Y.
January 18, 2013
 
Jean Muller, pianist

Jean Muller

Following the 2012 release of a well-received all-Chopin recording on the Fondamenta label, Luxembourgian pianist Jean Muller kicked off a world tour with largely the same repertoire in a fine recital at New York’s Weill Hall. It is not easy to offer fresh perspectives on the pillars of the Chopin piano literature, particularly after the composer’s bicentennial blitz of 2010, but Mr. Muller appears oblivious to any need to be different (or the same, for that matter); it is enough to be oneself, as Mr. Muller appears to know. These days, the slow burn of being a sincere, dedicated musician is almost revolutionary in its own right.

His program’s first half was made up of the complete Ballades. His were nuanced, at times understated, renditions of these musical treasures. With so many cranked up performances going around of what one could almost call “McBallades” at this point, this listener was relieved to discover that there was nothing formulaic or facile about Muller’s interpretations. Starting the G Minor Ballade (Op. 23) with a more pensive, deliberate first theme than one usually hears, Muller brought it a searching quality, as if encountering its mysteries for the first time. It was highly individual, without being distorted or eccentric. He played with a fluent, natural sense of rubato. Occasionally there were tonal balance issues exacerbated by a somewhat thin treble sound, but in each case one sensed that decisions had been made to favor overall dynamic pacing over individual cantabile lines. Indeed, the pacing toward climaxes was achieved skillfully, with refreshing attention to the work’s inherent logic and integrity. Technical hurdles were handled neatly without virtuoso excess – though perhaps with a bit too much caution for this listener.

The second Ballade (Op. 38) was similar in its strengths. Thoughtfully paced and with no exaggeration or bombast, it reflected the refined poetry of the work. Because the piece alternates quiet lyricism with tempests, this listener wished in turbulent sections for greater unleashing of this pianist’s full resources (as heard later on the program), but it seemed that Muller was holding his energies in reserve. Perhaps when performing all four Ballades, this is inevitable. The brilliant and dramatic coda was negotiated neatly, but with a bit more abandon it could have truly caught fire.

The third Ballade (Op. 47) was a highlight, not surprisingly, as it benefited from this pianist’s thoughtful, civilized approach. The famous rocking theme (or some say “cantering”) was especially winsome, and Muller built the ensuing drama well. Similarly the final Ballade (Op. 52), arguably the most challenging of the group to hold together, was unified with mastery. The chorale-like lull just before the ferocious coda was done perhaps more beautifully than I’ve ever heard – it’s prayerfulness stemming not merely from the perils ahead, as with some performances!

The second half included shorter works, framed by two Polonaises, the F-sharp minor, Op. 44 and the A-flat, Op. 53. Highlights were the poignant Mazurka in A minor Op. 17, No. 4 and the Waltz in A-flat Major, Op. 69, No. 1, both expertly phrased, the latter with especially golden-toned melodic beauty. The old chestnut Waltz in D-flat (Op. 64, No. 1, the “Minute Waltz”) had just the right élan, and the Posthumous Largo in E-flat Major added novelty to the otherwise widely known offerings. Also heard were the Mazurkas in A minor, op. 67, No. 4, and in C Major, Op. 68, No. 1, both handled with polish and sensitivity. Happily the final “Heroic” Polonaise found the pianist letting go more, though still with expert control as he released torrents of left-hand octaves with riveting evenness. It was worth the wait.  Rousing ovations elicited encores of Chopin’s B-flat minor Nocturne and Fantaisie-Impromptu.

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

Suzanna Klintcharova in Review

ArtFusion Paris Presents Suzanna Klintcharova, harp
Weill Recital Hall at Carnegie Hall; New York, NY
December 27, 2012

In a concert originally scheduled for October 31, 2012, Bulgarian-born French-based harpist Suzanna Klintcharova took the stage at Weill Recital Hall nearly two months later. Hurricane Sandy had caused an 80-ton boom from a crane to become unsecured and swing wildly across from Carnegie Hall at a height of nearly 1000 feet. Countless concerts had to be cancelled. Some will not be rescheduled, and others have been pushed back as late as June 2013.  One must commend Ms. Klintcharova for rescheduling after what had to have been a terrifying experience; not only the storm itself, but being unable to leave the city after all airports were closed as well.

Ms. Klintcharova was introduced by the Bulgarian ambassador to the United Nations, who referred to her as a friend and a national treasure. It was gratifying to see an artist honored in such a way – I would be very surprised if any American artist got a similar introduction in Sofia from one of our own ambassadors.

In a program that would be a welcome antidote after such a storm, Ms. Klintcharova presented a selection of rather conservative works. This in itself was not a bad thing, but it was a bit puzzling considering that in her biography it is stated that she is very much interested in contemporary music and improvisation. The most recent work on the program was written in 1970 and not exactly on the cutting-edge.

Opening with two Sonatas (K. 132 and K. 531) by Domenico Scarlatti (1685-1757), Ms. Klintcharova showed her meticulous attention to detail.  The Grand Sonata for harp by a composer much better known for his extensive violin output, Giovanni Battista Viotti (1755-1824), followed. Other than an awkward moment in the Allegro Brillante, Ms. Klintcharova navigated the technical hurdles with apparent ease and captured the sparkling nature of the work without any grand gestures or histrionics. It was an intelligent approach from a sensitive and thoughtful musician.

The second half began with Lolita the dancer, more commonly known as Lolita la danseuse, the third piece from Images-1st suite, Op. 29, written in 1925 by the French composer and harp pedagogue Marcel Tournier (1879-1951). Ms. Klintcharova captured the essence of a temperamental diva with her incisive playing; Lolita pouts, she flirts, she stomps her feet, she laughs and cries, and she soars all in the space of three minutes. It was a delight. Archipel 5A, composed in 1970 by  André Boucourechliev (1925-1997), Bulgarian-born but considered a French composer, followed. Archipel 5A is the harp part from a larger work, Anarchipel, for six players, composed in the same year and separated as a stand-alone work. It is an aleatory work that the composer owes much to his time spent in the United States exploring the form and his encounters with proponents of chance elements in music, such as John Cage.  Ms. Klintcharova is as much at home in this form as in the more conventional. Her performance took the spirit of a dream, albeit a rather tormented, uneasy dream. It was skilfully conceived and executed in its details. As a finale, another nod to the impressionistic style of Tournier, the less frequently performed Sonatine No. 2, Op. 45, was played with elegance and refinement. The appreciative audience called Ms. Klintcharova back to the stage with loud applause.  As final thanks for her audience, she played the Moderato movement of the Sonata in C minor by Giovanni Battista Pescetti (1704-1766), as transcribed for harp by Carlos Salzedo. A beautiful piece, it was played beautifully as well, and Ms. Klintcharova closed the evening in fine style.

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

Tatiana Tessman Pianist in Review

Tatiana Tessman, Piano
Winner of the World Piano Competition
Alice Tully Hall, Lincoln Center
November 30, 2012

Tatiana Tessman’s November 30th Tully Hall recital presented the latest winner of the World Piano Competition—an artist of technical brilliance, interpretive authority along with a comforting aura of authority and dependability. Ms. Tessman, was who was born in Russia, studied at the Gnessin School in Moscow with a series of excellent teachers and has concertized and won several prizes in her native land. Later, she came to New York to polish and complete her training at the Manhattan School of Music with Solomon Mikowsky. She is a recipient of the Elda van Gelder Memorial Foundation.

Her program began with three Chopin Mazurkas, Op. 50 which commanded attention with a bold rubato and extroverted, rhetorically flexible rhythmic drive. For some, her “in your face” feistiness may have seemed overly flamboyant. But quibbles aside her style, proved justifiably idiomatic.

Six additional Mazurkas by Karol Szymanowski, (also Op. 50) and still another two by Thomas Adès, beautifully complemented the Chopin group and in fact proved to be even more delicate and whimsical, more colored and intimate, too, than what Ms. Tessman’s extroverted style brought to the Chopin.

Chopin’s imposing Fantasy in F minor, Op. 49 brought the first half of the concerto to a close, and her memorable, masterfully held together interpretation was, for this writer, the highpoint of the evening. Every crucial detail made a fine impression: the rock solid rhythmic underpinning of the alla Marcia introduction; the long lined harmonic shaping of the second subject: the superbly judged timing and pacing of the central Trio (which coincidentally bears a striking resemblance to the analogous middle Trio of the Schubert Klavierstuck No.1 in E flat Minor, D. 946); and the towering climactic drama at the very end proved unusually effective and convincing.

Prokofiev’s Eighth Piano Sonata, the penultimate of his works in that genre, and the last of the three great “War Sonatas” (Nos. 6-8), is extremely passionate, nostalgic and imposing (the Ninth Sonata, the contemporaneous Cello Sonata and　Seventh Symphony, all showed the composer to be depleted and spiritually threadbare, a depressing decline). Ms. Tessman’s interpretation was heartwarming, excitable and charged with virtuoso brilliance. Her version was also happily tempered with generosity and lyrical warmth.

The rapturous response of the audience was rewarded with a lovely, communicative reading of Rachmaninoff’s Prelude Op. 32, No. 5.

Tatiana Tessman is an emotionally outgoing but formidably controlled virtuoso. I look forward to hearing much more of her playing.

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

The Alonso-Drummond Duo in Review

Evan Drummond, guitar
Orlay Alonso, piano
Sponsored by The Cuban Cultural Center of NY
Weill Recital Hall at Carnegie Hall
November 14, 2012

 

Evan Drummond and Orlay Alonso are a truly remarkable duo, as they are always committed to sharing every note with one another and—most importantly— the audience at hand. For them, it is never about showing off what they can do technically, but rather about bringing the listener into the meaning of the music. They are real virtuosos of their respective instruments, but I don’t want to draw any more attention to their technique; I’d rather discuss their one-of-a-kind chemistry. After all, there are thousands of ensembles who can play extremely well but don’t know how to blend as an organic unit.

The music of Leo Brouwer is an example of music that is not extremely well-known, but when this duo plays it with their trademark passion, the audience seems to feel that they know it like the back of their hands. Brouwer’s music is—simply put—marvelous. Always catch it whenever it is programmed because you’ll walk away rejuvenated and enlightened—especially when the Alonso-Drummond group plays it.

A key component to this duo’s chemistry is their individual backgrounds and how these accomplished musicians joined forces. Alonso traveled  from his native Cuba to New York’s LaGuardia School for the Performing Arts, where he was awarded a scholarship to study at the Manhattan School Pre-College, and later Mannes and Yale. Alonso met Drummond at Yale, and upon their graduation, they began a series of concerts presenting programs of re-imagined interpretations of some of the most cherished repertoire of Spain and Cuba.

They are now also presenting their own arrangements of well-known composers in a quasi-ballet suite format. Drummond has signed with Dunvagen Music Publications for an arrangement of a Phillip Glass composition, and I believe the duo has a future not only because of their communicative gifts, but also because they will build a whole new repertoire for this unusual but aesthetically pleasing pair of instruments.

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

A Celebration of Song in Review

A Celebration of Song
Samantha Jeffreys, soprano, and guest artists
Djordje Stevan Nesic, piano
Victor Borge Hall at Scandinavia House
December 6, 2012

It is a daunting task to organize, rehearse and perform in a vocal recital featuring fourteen singers, a pianist and in one number, even an obbligato cellist. But for Samantha Jeffreys and her colleagues, this “Celebration of Song” was a labor of love, evidenced by the joyful and heartfelt music making tonight’s audience experienced. The concert, a benefit for the brain cancer research being carried out at The New York Brain Tumor Center at Weill Cornell Medical College, was dedicated to Ms. Jeffreys’ mother Karen Jeffreys who is undergoing treatment at Weill Cornell.

The singers on this program showcased many facets of New York’s vibrant musical life. We heard both emerging artists and veteran performers in the fields of opera and musical comedy. Some specialized in one field, others such as Ms. Jeffreys exhibited skill in both.  And it was interesting to see how the paths of the performers have crossed, as educational institutions such as the Manhattan School of Music and local opera companies such as the Dell’Arte Opera Ensemble and the Di Capo Opera Theatre popped up in so many biographies.

Most of the concert’s first half was devoted to operatic arias and duets.  The recital began with the lovely “Barcarolle” from Offenbach’s “Les Contes d’Hoffmann,” sung by Ms. Jeffreys and mezzo-soprano Sara Fanucchi. This was followed by the American composer John Duke’s art song “I Carry Your Heart,” performed with a rich sound and fine diction by mezzo-soprano Katie Hannigan. We then heard another duet, “Evening Prayer” from Humperdink’s “Handel and Gretel,” in which Ms. Jeffreys was joined by another mezzo-soprano, Jocelyne O’Toole. The singers in both duets blended beautifully and were perfectly balanced. In these duets, and in all of the following ensembles, the interaction between performers was dramatic and quite convincing. This even extended to the way they entered the stage before singing.

Michael Corvino’s magnificent rendition of the aria “Nemico della Patria” from Umberto Giordano’s “Andrea Chenier” followed. This veteran baritone possesses a thrilling sound in all registers and sings with palpable dramatic intensity. In a preceding paragraph I mentioned that this evening featured both emerging and veteran performers, and the overall excellence of Mr. Corvino’s performance is something that all of tonight’s younger artist should strive for.

The preceding statement is not meant to infer that there were no other great performances this evening. The tenor Ta’u Pupu’a (that’s not a misprint – he’s originally from the Polynesian Kingdom of Tonga) thrilled the audience with his idiomatic rendition of the song in Neapolitan dialect “Tu, ca nun chiagne” by Ernesto DeCurtis. Both he and the tenor Brian Gagde, who later sang Rudolfo’s aria “Che gelida manina” from Puccini’s “La Bohème,” possess exciting tenor voices that have that wonderful ring which the Italians call “squillo.” They are the kind of tenors that make the hair on the back of your neck stand up when they move into their upper register.

Mr. Gagde’s aria was immediately followed by Mimi’s response, “Mi chiamano Mimi,” sung by Ms. Jeffreys. Her lovely voice ascends with ease to the top of the lyric soprano’s range and left us deeply gratified. The first half ended as Ms. Jeffreys and Mr. Gagde sang the duet which concludes Act I of “La Bohème.” Their voices soared together to climax on the word “amor” as they exited through the audience, leaving it eagerly anticipating the second half.

The second half featured music from the American Musical Theater. I love this music, having been in the audience during the opening run of half of the eight shows from which tonight’s music was chosen.  Let me touch on some high points. Ms. Jeffrey’s performance of Gershwin’s “Someone to Watch over Me” was idiomatic and touching. She showed how a singer with an operatic voice can convincingly cross over into musical comedy. I would, however, suggest leaving out the operatic high note at the end. And speaking of operatic high notes, “Mamma, Mamma” from Frank Loesser’s “The Most Happy Fella,” more an aria than a song, was given a knockout performance by Michael Corvino. Although many of the other performers on this half were more “singing actors” as opposed to the above “acting singers,” they were no less effective. Lastly, mention must be made of the exemplary pianist Djordje Stevan Nesic, whose sensitive accompaniments in both musical styles were a pleasure to hear.

Ms. Jeffreys has done an admirable thing in raising over $10,000 for cancer research and in so doing, she gave her audience a wonderful evening. Her mother must be very proud.

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

Ivan Ženatý, violin, and James Vaughan, piano in Review

Ivan Ženatý, violin, and James Vaughan, piano
Weill Recital Hall at Carnegie Hall
December 3, 2012
 
Ivan Ženatý, violin Photo: Tomáš Lébr

Ivan Ženatý, violin; Photo: Tomáš Lébr

When excellent Czech violinist Ivan Ženatý strides onstage with his pianist James Vaughan, one is in for an evening of artistry, probably whatever the program; presented by Mid-America Productions in an all-Czech program in Weill Hall, the duo brought their audience twofold pleasure. Underappreciated works by Antonin Dvořák, Leoš Janáček, and Bedřich Smetana are rarely combined as an entire recital here in the U.S., but if they were, it is unlikely that they would be performed as well. Mr. Ženatý, veteran performer claiming a large array of prizes, recordings, and collaborations, was recently appointed to the faculty of the Cleveland Institute of Music, having taught also at the Hochschule für Musik Carl Maria von Weber in Dresden. He is a performer who clearly endows each note with a world of experience, though with apparent ease, and it is heartening to know that a performer of such musical integrity will be transmitting some of his artistry to the next generation.

Polished and elegant from music to stage presence, the duo filled their first half of the program with all Dvořák (1841-1904).  The composer’s Romantic Pieces for violin and piano, Op. 75, B. 150 (1886-87), first composed for two violins and viola (with movements originally entitled Cavatina, Capriccio, Romance, and Elegy), were heard in the composer’s own violin-piano arrangement. Mr. Ženatý projected his phrases with a mellow, cantabile violin sound on a 1740 Giuseppe Guarneri del Jesu violin (courtesy of the Harmony Foundation of New York). A feeling of gemütlichkeit permeated the intimate Weill Hall – somewhat in keeping with Dvorak’s own home readings of these pieces. At first the balance seemed an issue, and the piano (with the lid on the full stick) seemed a bit overwhelming, but in a very brief time the duo melded perfectly, and this listener was glad for the clarity in each detail of what was a true collaboration. Mr. Vaughan particularly impressed with his flexibility in adjusting his feather-light repeated notes  – in this piano’s rich middle register, no less – to each nuance of the violin.  He was outstanding in the most difficult dovetailing. Ženatý ramped up the energy for the quixotic second movement, and the third, wonderfully Schubertian with its gentle lyricism, was a dream. The duo conveyed the mournful spirit of the fourth movement with haunting beauty, and one could feel the audience sighing collectively afterwards.

Dvořák’s Sonata in F Major for violin and piano, Op. 57, moved the recital into more involved and weighty writing. It brought more challenges of all kinds, and they were handled well, with only occasional glitches in intonation. Mr. Ženatý and Mr. Vaughan brought out the Brahmsian breadth and nobility of this work, challenging the program notes’ assertion that, unlike Beethoven, Brahms, and others, this Sonata “has neither architectural grandeur nor higher unity in its contrasting ideas.” On a side note, one wonders whether such a comment is the best way to maximize the listeners’ experience as good program notes can do! The performers, on the other hand, advocated for the piece with each lovingly shaped phrase, and this listener would enjoy hearing them do it again.

After intermission came the Sonata for violin and piano JW VII/7 by Leoš Janáček (1854-1928), a work using folk elements in a dark, at times violent way. Just as the programming reflected a broad range of Czech musical style, this duo’s expressive range was explored to the fullest. While neither performer resorted to demonstrative excess, there was plenty of drama in the sound itself. The first movement captured the wrestling intensity of the jagged, even spasmodic motives. It was an impassioned performance, as this piece demands, reflecting the troubled times of Europe in 1914. The second movement, Ballada, found the duo by contrast on a journey at times nostalgic and at times desperately longing. Long, melodic lines were soulfully shaped, to heartbreaking effect in Ženatý’s hands. In the third movement, the sounds of war were evoked in brutal and strident accented blows, which Ženatý and Vaughan played to the hilt; as Janacek himself wrote, “I could just about hear sound of the steel clashing in my troubled head.” The final quiet utterances of the fourth movement left the audience again suspended in silence.

A comforting close came with Bedřich Smetana’s “Z domoviny” (“From My Homeland”) benefiting from more of Ženatý’s golden-toned phrases and Vaughan’s expert support. It built to a brilliant and spirited close capping off a richly satisfying evening. Prolonged applause was rewarded with Dvořák ‘s Mazurek in E minor as an encore.

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

Seunghee Lee, Pianist in Review

Presented by MidAmerica Productions
Alice Tully Hall, New York, NY
November 24, 2012

The arts are in a jumble, but America remains the coveted destination for those who seek higher education and a head start in a classical performance career. As college costs aspire to reach the stars, so do many of our foreign students, who are being trained superbly, and increasingly, outside of the typical metropolitan capitals of the country.

On Saturday, November 24 at 2:00 pm, the Korean pianist Seunghee Lee gave a recital at Alice Tully Hall presented by MidAmerica Productions (now in its 30th season of forging concert liaisons here and abroad). A graduate of SangMyung University in Seoul, Ms. Lee chose to make her next stops at Ohio University and the University of Kentucky, whence she has emerged in the spring of this year, fully equipped to join the profession as instructor at SangMyung University in Seoul, with a doctoral dissertation on Korean contemporary piano music in hand. Ms. Lee’s biography cites a number of prizes and credits, including concerts in Brazil and a master class coaching with Kimura Park (presumably the pianist Jon Kimura Parker).

Ms. Lee established her porcelain signature sound from the outset on Saturday in a pair of unrelated Scarlatti sonatas, the tender K. 197 in B Minor and the top-ten favorite K. 159 in C Major, with its stuttering staccato thirds and cheery grace notes, deftly enunciated. Consistently attentive to clarity and polished treble, Ms. Lee prefers to butter her Baroque textures lavishly, but her sound retains its characteristic simplicity and integrity at all times.

If Ms. Lee is discovering a personal statement independent of the common sincerity of all music-making, this statement may be in its germinal phase: Saturday’s recital was a heavenly musical pot-luck. Its major works were the Bach-Busoni Chaconne and Brahms’s Variations and Fugue on a Theme of Handel (listed familiarly as “Handel Variations”). The Bach-Busoni was a late substitution for the “Corelli Variations” by Rachmaninoff, publicized on the outdoor marquee. A penchant for Baroque themes with their sets of full-blown Romantic variations would be an intriguing specialty, but the association would warrant an architectural perspective as well as an effervescent one. Ms. Lee’s cultivated sound and beautifully proportioned sense of rhythm did much to compensate for the absence of tragic declamation or exhilaration, respectively, in Bach-Busoni and Brahms. To decrease the cumulative effect of repetition and downplay the arrival of the fugue, Ms. Lee showed the courtesy to keep things moving and omitted nearly every repeat in the Brahms, as if for a timed audition. The through-composed Variation 13, in which Brahms extravagantly reiterates phrases in the upper octave to prolong the sway of the Hungarian lassan, contrasted noticeably with the compactness of the piece. After a dozen progressively thornier segments, the expected main course fugue proceeded as a blip on the radar, proficiently executed but minimally histrionic.

Partial responsibility for this non-starter of a cultural event should fall to the MidAmerica audience, which seemed especially papered with musical novices. Just as we were getting to know Ms. Lee and her lithe, violinistic style in the Bach Chaconne, the handsome crowd erupted into intermittent applause as if to cheer a home run every time she traversed the keyboard with razzle-dazzle. The offending persons did not stay beyond the first half, but we were treated to security ringtones, flash photography, electronic chimes, and exiting audience members during the remainder of the concert.

The most successful aspect of the recital was the grassroots parallel Ms. Lee drew between Samuel Barber’s Excursions and two atmospheric Korean dances by the composer Young Jo Lee, who is lucky to have such a devoted interpreter of his new piano works. Barber’s ostinato figures were comfortably controlled and his violin square dance full of fun, while the octatonic barcarolle and sicilian rhythms in Young Jo Lee’s Korean Dance Suite extended throughout the piano’s range and began to resemble Henri Duparc’s L’Invitation au Voyage gone to the dark side. Christian Sinding’s Rustle of Spring was a fluent and colorful encore.

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by Emily White  for New York Concert Review; New York, NY