Solomon Mikowsky Dedication Concert in Review

Solomon Mikowsky Dedication Concert in Review
Solomon Gadles Mikowsky Recital Hall, New York, NY
Manhattan School of Music
October 3, 2010

Dr. Solomon Mikowsky

“Turnabout is fair play”, the saying goes. Frequently, an institution will pay homage to a great and distinguished member of its faculty. But this time, Solomon Mikowsky – who has certainly earned a tribute for his years as a renowned piano pedagogue who has produced many fine artists (and competition winners) –  honored the Manhattan School of Music with a beautiful and heartwarming gesture: a gift of a superb recital hall, replete with two Steinway concert grand pianos and a capacity for audio and video recording (plus a third Steinway Model B grand for his adjacent studio). On Sunday afternoon, October 3rd, I was honored to be present for the grand opening festivities of the Solomon Gadles Mikowsky Recital Hall on the third floor of the MSM. Dr. Mikowsky’s tribute was not only to this school, but also in honor of 12 of his former and present pupils who held forth with a fine concert by way of a retrospect. The live recital commenced with a recorded performance of Bach’s Fantasy and Fugue in A Minor as performed by Mikowsky at the age of fourteen. In front of the audience was a photograph of the fledgling virtuoso (what a handsome devil he was!). Later on, at the behest of many of his appreciative charges, Dr. Mikowsky (who was going to remain silent) played a Galuppi Sonata with elegant taste and good tone, showing us all that he can still “do” as well as teach!

Dr. Mikowsky was born Solomon Gadles in Cuba of Russian-Polish parentage and his mother’s maiden name was Mikowska. His early musical training was with Cesar Perez Sentenat, who had studied in Madrid with Cubiles and in Paris with Joaquin Nin, a pupil of Moszkowski, himself a pupil of Liszt. Later, he earned his degrees at the Juilliard School, working with Sascha Gorodnitzki (Bachelors and Masters degrees) and a doctorate from Columbia University. Frequently invited to serve on the juries of important international piano competitions, he has given master classes worldwide, and is the author of a book on nineteenth-century Cuban music.

Dr. Solomon Mikowsky with his students. Photo Credit: Brian Hatton

The impressive recitalists included two Domenico Scarlatti sonatas (A Minor, Longo 241, Kirkpatrick 54; and A Major, L. 395, K. 533) played with brilliant note-perfect fluency by Inesa Sinkevych, but with one gaffe: the printedprogram attributed them to Domenico’s father, Alessandro, 1660-1725 (who wrote vocal music!); Liszt’s F Minor Concert Etude, La Leggierezza (Ian Yungwook Yoo); Chopin’s C-sharp Minor Etude, Op. 10, No. 4 (Kookhee Hong); Albeniz’s Asturias (Jovianney Emmanuel Cruz); Albeniz’s Evocacion from Iberia (Gustavo Diaz-Jerez (who had originally intended to play El Puerto from the same work); Lecuona’s Cordoba (Yuan Sheng, who played lustily, although I have heard him play Bach wonderfully well and also had glowing words for his Schubert B flat Sonata, D. 960); the ubiquitous Albeniz Tango in Godowsky’s  gussied-up arrangement (Ren Zhang); Scriabin’s Etude in C-sharp Minor, Op 8, No. 12 (Alexander Moutouzkine); Ravel’s “Pavane pour une infante  defunte” (Youngho Kim); Rachmaninoff’s Prelude in G Major, Op. 32, No. 5 (Wael Farouk, a Shura Cherkassy look-alike who I glowingly reviewed in New York Concert Review for his account of Rachmaninoff’s Third Concerto with the MSM orchestra last year); Busoni’s Sonatine super Carmen No. 6, K. 284 (Kirill Gerstein, a recent Gilmore Artist Award and Avery Fisher Grant winner); and finally the Aria from Bach’s Goldberg Variations (Simone Dinnerstein; truly an Aria da Capo; the first time I heard her play at the tender age of 11, Ms. Dinnerstein was a pupil of Dr. Mikowsky and she has many accomplishments to her credit in the intervening years—subsequent studies with Herbert Stessin, Maria Diamond (a student of Artur Schnabel) and Peter Serkin. Herself-produced CD of the Goldberg, now available on Telarc, has been acclaimed a best-seller).

I must comment that the room can accommodate an audience of 50, and that its acoustics are ideally crystal clear, absolutely perfect for the obvious ideals of Dr. Mikowsky’s taste for extreme digital clarity and articulation, Spartan and judicious pedaling and discipline, as opposed to an often esteemed and encountered murkiness that could (and often does) hide a multitude of sins by less technically adroit students.

The concert was followed by a lavish reception and dinner, capping a joyously memorable and touching occasion. Congratulations to all, and especially to Solomon Mikowsky!

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

The Gemini Piano Trio in Review

The Gemini Piano Trio
Hsiu-Hui Wang, piano, Sheng-Tsung Wang, violin, Benjamin Myers, cello
Weill Recital Hall at Carnegie Hall, New York, NY
October 16, 2010

The Gemini Trio

This group is a true family affair: the pianist is the sister of the violinist and the wife of the cellist. No wonder they have achieved such a high level of unanimity and rapport. But of course, though personal kinship can help, it also requires hard work and dedication to forge a fine ensemble and make it sound totally natural.

The Gemini Trio is on the faculty of Maryland’s Goucher College in Baltimore and Howard Community College in Columbia. The members are all active, successful soloists; individually, they hold degrees from the Hartt School of Music, the University of Maryland, Peabody Conservatory, and the New England Conservatory. As a group, they have taken top prizes in many prestigious competitions, performed on several continents, and released two CDs of trios by Brahms, Ravel, Ives, and Shostakovich. This concert marked the Trio’s New York debut.

The program demonstrated the players’ stylistic versatility, featuring masterpieces from three periods: Beethoven’s Trio Op.1 No.1, Shostakovich’s Trio No.2 and Mendelssohn’s Trio No.2. The Beethoven was a model of classical elegance and restraint; phrasing, articulation and dynamics were carefully observed, balance and interplay between the instruments were exemplary. In the Shostakovich, the players allowed themselves more dynamic and emotional abandon without lapsing into excess; the Scherzo was very fast and impetuous but always controlled; the slow movement was heart-breaking. The Mendelssohn was unabashedly romantic: quite free, intense, and ardent. The corner movements were stormy and passionate, the Scherzo was spooky but almost too fast and whispery for human ears to follow, the slow movement was serene and poetic. The phrasing sometimes seemed a bit overdone and lopsided, and there was perhaps an over-abundance of slides. But the playing was always honestly felt and very expressive.

Best of all, the players were concerned only with the music, and used their technical command and tonal variety entirely in its service. They did nothing for effect, never exaggerated, never called attention to themselves, never showed off. The pianist’s pedal technique was remarkable: she seemed to change pedal with every note even in the fastest passages. Moreover, except for the most massive chords, she kept her left foot on the soft pedal, even in her solo passages, so there was no break in the sound quality. As a result, the piano, though wide open, never covered the strings; indeed, it was often too subdued. Altogether, this was a most enjoyable evening of true, unaffected music-making.

Though the printed program requested that the applause be held until after the final movement of each work, the sell-out audience could not restrain itself and showed its enthusiasm after every movement, causing the players to look startled at first, then to smile with amused resignation. To remove the temptation for an outburst after the ghostly Mendelssohn Scherzo, they plunged right into the last movement. After the final ovation, they responded with an encore: a trio arrangement of Elgar’s “Chant d’amour.”  

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

The Park Avenue Chamber Symphony in Review

The Park Avenue Chamber Symphony in Review
David Bernard, conductor
Pedro Diaz, oboe
Beethoven Symphony No. 6 (“Pastorale”)
Cimarosa/Benjamin Oboe Concerto
Copland “Appalachian Spring” Suite
All Saints Church; New York, NY
October 17, 2010

The Park Avenue Chamber Symphony led by David Bernard

David Bernard has a very impressive memory, as he conducted the entire program—including the concerto and a fairly difficult Copland work—without a score. Beethoven’s sixth symphony was a fitting choice since they did the fifth last year. Is the seventh on the horizon for next season? Most of the movements’ tempos were a bit too slow for my taste and the winds sometimes got out of sync.—the horn also cracked several times—but the exciting storm movement sounded terrific; even the second violin section’s famously treacherous eighth-note passage (simulated rain drops) was polished to excellence.

Copland’s notoriously difficult “Appalachian Spring” Suite needs and seemed to have gotten plenty of rehearsal time, and it paid off; the orchestra played it very well. My only peeves were brass playing that was behind the strings in the first big orchestral passage (do they have enough rehearsal time in the church to get used to the distant surroundings and the time lag, etc.?), and a famously tricky 2/4 and 5/8 section involving piano, double basses and syncopated trombones that became unhinged. But most difficult moments went very smoothly.  This time–opposed to the Beethoven—the tempos were atypically fast, but they correlated with each other well. The opening A’s were unusually and nicely poised, the closing chorale section was phrased beautifully, and the last three glockenspiel and harp notes were perfect.

Pedro Diaz, the solo English horn player at the MET, performed elegantly and exquisitely on the oboe in Cimarosa’s Oboe Concerto. Purity and sweetness of tone plus precise articulation were in evidence. Bernard and the orchestra performed sensitively and were with Diaz all the way.

The Park Avenue Chamber Symphony titled their varied and immensely enjoyable program “Springtime Serenade”, and that brings up a subject for debate: the necessity of program titles. Many Orchestras try to find a gimmick such as headliners or catch-phrases to make the concert more inviting, but is a contrived title the right gimmick?  In this case, we are well into autumn and the orchestra’s delightfully contrasting program consisting of Beethoven’s “Pastorale Symphony”, Cimarosa’s Oboe Concerto, and Copland’s “Appalachian Spring” has one third of its program entrenched in spring, but is not worthy of a program title devoted to it.  I see Vivaldi’s “Seasons” coming up on a December PACS program (I look forward to that); if the Spring Concerto had been previewed here, you have a bigger reason to hint at spring in a title—maybe. Beethoven’s “Pastorale” could be about fall as much as spring or summer; in his description, Beethoven talks about feelings upon arriving in the country, etc., but is non-specific with regards to a season. Concert program titles tend to be limiting, especially when the programming is as varied and innovative as Mr. Bernard’s. The title: ‘Beethoven’s Pastorale, Copland’s Appalachian Spring and MET soloist Pedro Diaz’ would sell lots of tickets without any added gloss.

On a program page listing future concerts, ‘Jazzy Classics’ is the title of a terrific program that features Shostakovich’s 6th Symphony, Gershwin’s “Rhapsody in Blue” and a recent Jazz composition by Ted Rosenthal, but one of their website pages avoids the label ‘Jazzy Classics’, which is good. After all, the excellent and immensely enjoyable Shostakovich 6th symphony is not jazzy nor widely considered a classic, and Ted Rosenthal’s world premiere piece entitled “Jazz Fantasy” is not a classic—yet. But it is great that the orchestra is performing those works and I hope many people attend. I certainly look forward to it.

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

Tureck International Bach Competition for Young Pianists: Winners’ Gala Concert

 2nd Tureck International Bach Competition for Young Pianists: Winners’ Gala Concert
The Rose Studio at Lincoln Center, New York, NY
October 11, 2010
 

The legacy of Rosalyn Tureck is alive and well, not only through her treasured recordings, but through sustained efforts of devoted students, notably those of Golda Vainberg-Tatz, director of the Tureck International Bach Competition for Young Pianists.  Held this year for the second time, the competition drew highly gifted and accomplished pianists (eligible from ages six through nineteen), playing in eight categories including the Short Preludes and Fugues, Inventions, Well-Tempered Clavier, Suites, Partitas, and various large works including the Concerti and Goldberg Variations. While no one won a prize in the Goldberg Variation category this time, it is impressive that there were several young entrants playing this large, demanding work. I sadly did not get to hear them, but what I did hear at the winners’ recital was excellent: all eight pianists were extremely well prepared and professional, and some were much more than that.

The printed program made no mention of ages (a refreshing change from circus-like prodigy-fests), so each player, whether pint-sized or college-aged, was presented in a professional context. Opening the program was the winner in the concerto category, Andrew Sung, playing the Concerto in F minor, BWV 1056. Self-assured, and showing admirable control and focus, he played in fine collaboration with his “orchestra” (a second piano, played by Damon Denton). His slow movement was fluid and graceful.

Natasha Hou Wu followed suit with a poised and precise Prelude and Fughetta in G Major, BWV 902. Evenness of touch and a firm intellectual grasp were much in evidence. One guesses that there must be some dedicated, unsung teachers behind such polish, along with Ms. Wu’s own gifts. The same may be said for the other players, including Sibo Wang, who played the Duet in G Major, BWV 804 with considerable intelligence and clear demarcations of phrasing. His polish was impressive too, though listeners were getting quite accustomed to that quality by this point!

The next winner, Zitong Wang, stood out as sensitive and lyrical in the Sinfonia in D minor, BWV 799. Going beyond intellectual and technical grasp, she seemed to probe the piece emotionally, especially towards its close.

Hilda Huang, co-winner with Jennifer Campbell in the Well-Tempered Clavier category, offered the A minor pairing from Book I and the A-flat Major one from Book II. With extreme rhythmic intensity, she brought out the conversational elements of the fugues with commendable skill.

Victoria Frances Young, winner in the Suites and Partitas category, played the French Suite in G Major, BWV 816, with brilliance and vigor. Some very fast tempi may have approached breathlessness, but there was an engaging ebullience to it all. With strong physical reactions to each crescendo (almost sending her off the bench), her involvement and commitment were clear.

Playing the Toccata in G Minor, BWV 915, was winner Jesslyn Julia Gunawan. Reflecting a sure sense of style, she also showed a genuine awareness of the more interesting harmonic twists and turns. The fugue had an infectious spirit, almost dance-like in quality.

Possessing perhaps the most maturity and artistry of all was Jennifer Nicole Campbell, who played David Auldon Brown’s Sonata No. 1, as winner of an additional contemporary music prize. (In addition to the Bach works, each contestant played a freely chosen contemporary work, post-1950.)  A sensitive colorist and intelligent musician, Ms. Campbell reflected total immersion in her music. She is already a full-fledged artist, and she brought the evening to a fitting close.

Endorsements, greetings, and a prize sent from Evgeny Kissin (and flowers sent by his father) added to the sense that these young musicians are being inducted into a rare and special group; in fact, they are.

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

Sahan Arzruni, Pianist in Review

Sahan Arzruni, Pianist in Review
With Cihat Askin, violinist
Zankel Hall at Carnegie Hall; New York, NY
October 7, 2010

Sahan Arzruni - Photo Credit: 2010 FrontRowPhotos.

In a most unusual presentation of music from the Middle East—specifically that of Turkey and Armenia—pianist Sahan Arzruni performed admirably for a full-house crowd at Carnegie’s Zankel Hall. The concert was presented by the Turkish Consulate General in New York. Despite the hall’s somewhat dry acoustics, Arzruni’s playing was riveting from start to finish. He has complete command of the instrument and exudes a quality that lets his audience know that he is a deeply probing musician. Also insightful was his programming, which ties together rarely heard music by Turkish and Armenian composers. Much of the traditional music by Turks and Armenians are rooted in their respective regional dialects, and this concert music reflected the different ways the dialects are spoken—with their varying accents and stresses of phrase.

Some of the composers were familiar names, such as Aram Khachaturian, who was born in Tbilisi. His Poem and Toccata are lovely, as is Komitas’ nicely contrasting Piano Dances. H. Ferid Alnar’s Piano Pieces are evocative, with titles such as “On the Hillside” and “East Winds at the Seashore”, and naturally concludes with a tuneful Folk Dance. Arzruni captured both the traditional and forward-looking qualities in the music.

Sahan Arzruni, pianist and Cihat Askin, violinist - Photo Credit: 2010 FrontRowPhotos.

Guest violinist Cihat Askin made a good impression as well. He performed a work called “Crane” by Aslamazyan, music based on the music of Komitas, which made good programming sense, since we heard a work by Komitas earlier in the evening. Askin played with elegant phrasing and an enthralling spirit. In “Salacak Sarkisi” by Askin himself, he beguiled the audience with his superb technique. He returned with a more familiar composer in Khachaturian’s “Chant-Poeme” and Saygun’s more virtuosic “Demet Suite”. Both artists had great chemistry and consistently impressed the audience with committed, engaging performances. I only wish Askin’s sound resonated in the hall more. Arzruni was masterful and insightful with his performances of Hovhaness’ “Achtamar” and “Lake of Van” Sonata, in addition to his excellent playing in Koptagel’s “Tamzara” and Toccata.

Sahan Arzruni presented a program that can be perceived as an effort to bring the people of Turkey and Armenia closer together artistically. There are many common traits…and unique differences as well.

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

Fourtissimo: Soyeon Lee, Ran Dank, Roman Rabinovich, and Vassilis Varvaresos in Review

Fourtissimo:  Soyeon Lee, Ran Dank, Roman Rabinovich, and Vassilis Varvaresos, pianos
Zankel Hall at Carnegie Hall: New York, NY
October 8, 2010
 

Fourtissimo – Photo Credit: Lisa Mazzucco

Rarely has the literature for multiple pianos attracted four such exceptionally fine piano soloists as have come together in the dynamic new group Fourtissimo.  Having noted the “immense talent” of Young Concert Artists International Auditions Winner, Ran Dank, in 2009 (New York Concert Review, Vol. 16, No. 1), I was excited enough to read that he would be teaming up with rising star, Roman Rabinovich, about whom I wrote glowingly when he performed at the Salle Cortot in Paris in 2007 (Vol 14, No. 3); it thus seems a surfeit of riches to add the superb pianist (and 2010 Naumburg winner) Soyeon Lee and the outstanding Vassilis Varvaresos (also a winner of YCA, among other distinctions). Would the whole be greater than the sum of these parts? The answer is yes, thanks to the festive spirit, camaraderie, and constant variety in their program.

The music itself, including solos, duos, and works for two pianos and eight hands, was full of thrills, and the world premiere of “The Quadruple Carmen Fantasy and Fugue” by young composer Noam Sivan was chief among them.  Its witty and brilliant treatment of the Carmen themes exploited all four pianists’ skills extensively, with none of the dead wood or excessive doubling that plague the two-piano repertoire. Jazz and popular elements reinvigorated the well-known themes (as did the addition of tambourine at one point).

Four selections from Ligeti Etudes (for solo piano) alternated with the ensemble works, offering a much-needed textural relief, a sonic “palate cleanser,” and a solo virtuoso showcase for each pianist. It was a joy to hear these fascinating Etudes singly, rather than in rapid succession. Mr. Varvaresos first offered No. 9, “Vertige,” in a rendition so dizzying that one needed to clutch one’s seat.

Liszt’s two-piano transcription of Beethoven’s Symphony No. 9 (first movement) followed, played by Ran Dank and Soyeon Lee. In keeping with the ensemble’s professed inspiration, the “boldness and creativity of the Golden Age “ of pianism, it was a refreshing choice, played with precision and energy. Ligeti’s Etude No. 4 (“Fanfares”) was then given marvelous vibrancy by Mr. Rabinovich, who was joined afterwards by Mr. Varvaresos to close the first half with Ravel’s La Valse. La Valse was given a muscular, if somewhat overly goal-oriented, performance. The surges and swoons seemed too often only hastily suggested (as well as some of the coruscating passage-work), but what may have been lacking in sensual thrills was found in athletic vigor, with Mr. Varvaresos taking an extroverted lead.

All four pianists joined forces again for the New York premiere of Lowell Liebermann’s Daydream and Nightmare (2005). A short but fascinating piece, it showed Mr. Liebermann’s characteristic artistry from its slow meditative opening to its tumultuous close.

The Ligeti Etude series continued with No. 6 (“Autumn in Warsaw”) sensitively played by Ms. Lee, followed by Mendelssohn’s own arrangement for piano of the final movement (Presto) of his Octet Op. 20, played with fleet-fingered control by Mr. Dank and Mr. Varvaresos. Mr. Dank remained onstage for Ligeti’s Etude No. 1 (“Desordre”), expertly handled (even if I would have preferred even more pronounced accentuation of its jagged rhythms). Lutoslawski’s Variations on a Theme by Paganini, a surefire two-piano standard, was then winningly played by Ms. Lee and Mr. Rabinovich. Even more sense of diabolical play will put it “over the top,” but each successive performance will undoubtedly encourage that. Grainger’s “Fantasy on Porgy and Bess”  (after Gershwin), another two-piano favorite, closed with the “Fourtissimo” treatment, with four hands alternating tag-team-style for much of it, but ending with a souped up eight–hand finale. It was an apt finale to an evening full of fun.

An improvisatory encore including themes from Simon and Garfunkel’s “Scarborough Fair” and “Mrs. Robinson” (among others) brought the house down.

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

Mahler Symphony No. 6 – New York Philharmonic Review

New York Philharmonic
Alan Gilbert, conductor
Avery Fisher Hall, New Yrok, NY
October 1, 2010

New York Philharmonic led by Alan Gilbert-Photo Credit: Stephanie Berger

In 2009, the New York Philharmonic, America’s oldest orchestra, departed from its longtime tradition of engaging venerable European Music Directors, and appointed 42-year-old Alan Gilbert, the first native New Yorker to hold the post. Though he had established himself in previous appearances, his comparative youth seemed to cause some misgivings, which were dispelled by his very successful inaugural season. Now his performance of Mahler’s Sixth Symphony has convinced all who heard it that New York City has set its own homegrown star on the musical firmament.

Comparisons are notoriously odious, but it was impossible to avoid contrasting, even unconsciously, Gilbert’s approach with that of the two conductors of the Vienna Philharmonic, on display the same week. The period-style-influenced Harnoncourt seemed intent on proving a scholarly point, the charismatic Dudamel on proving himself; Gilbert was intent on serving the music and communicating his love for it.

Watching him conduct is a pleasure. He never exaggerates or calls attention to himself, making his  gestures fit the music without acting it out, and, however exciting or emotional the moment may be, his beat remains perfectly clear. Conducting mostly from memory, he knows the music down to the smallest detail, and responds to it with total involvement.

An articulate speaker and writer, Gilbert has sometimes addressed the audience before a concert to introduce the music to be performed; this time, he discussed it in the printed program, focusing on the conductor’s responsibility to make interpretive choices and decisions.

Mahler’s Sixth Symphony is beset by uncertainties. He kept changing his mind about the order of the two middle movements, and about the number of hammer-strokes in the Finale. Supposedly intended to represent the blows of Fate, Mahler originally wrote three, then eliminated the third as too final; conductors have made their own decisions ever since. For reasons explained in his essay, Gilbert opted to place the slow movement second, the Scherzo third, and to include the third hammer stroke.

But there are choices to be made in all Mahler symphonies, which, though less obvious to the listener, are no less crucial to the interpretation. Mahler was a superb contrapuntalist and orchestrator; he wove a dense, complex texture of many independently moving lines and voices. They all seem equally important in theory, but in practice, it is obviously impossible to make them all equally prominent; conductors constantly have to decide which should be highlighted. This is one reason why a familiar symphony can sound almost like a new piece in a different conductor’s hands: one hears lines that one never heard before.

 Gilbert again demonstrated his proven ability to make the densest scores transparent, bringing out many usually obscured lines without entirely suppressing the rest. Surprisingly, one significant detail got lost: the changes from major to minor that magically turn sunlight into darkness.

Mahler often changes color by distributing melodic lines between different instruments; connecting them without interrupting their continuity creates another challenge for conductors and orchestras. The Philharmonic musicians handled it admirably: their take-overs were totally imperceptible, and all the solos were marvelous. Altogether, the orchestra has never sounded better or more inside the music; the audience was drawn in from first note to last. But the performance was Alan Gilbert’s triumph: having made all the right choices, he paid meticulous attention to every detail, yet sustained his grasp of the whole, infinitely complex work, its manifold mood and character-changes, and its towering climaxes – a truly impressive achievement.

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

Sibelius’ Violin Concerto, Joshua Bell and the New York Philharmonic in Review

New York Philharmonic
Alan Gilbert, conductor
Joshua Bell, violin
Avery Fisher Hall, New York, NY
October 6, 2010

Joshua Bell- Photo Credit: Marc Hom

 Alan Gilbert, Music Director of the New York Philharmonic, started the new season with two contrasting works, one familiar, one unfamiliar: Richard Strauss’ lush, exuberant “Don Juan” and Hindemith’s glittering, humorous “Symphonic Metamorphoses on Themes by Weber.” Counting both among his favorites, he programmed them on the Gala Opening, on the first set of subscription concerts, and again two weeks later, but paired them each time with different works, including two virtuoso violin concertos: the Mendelssohn with Itzhak Perlman and the Sibelius with Joshua Bell.

One can assume that the concerts were attended by mostly different audiences, but the intrepid souls who heard all three programs were rewarded not only by some fabulous fiddling, but also by the chance to compare three different performances of the same works.

The latest program began with Debussy’s atmospheric “Prelude to the Afternoon of a Faun,” written 1892-94. Inspired by a poem of the same title by Stéphane Mallarmé published in 1876, the music depicts a faun passing a languorous afternoon in dreams and reveries. A true “tone painting,” it seems made of airy, dappled sunlight and fleeting shadows. The orchestration shimmers and glows with shifting, glittering colors; sinuous, elusive melodies wind through the texture; harp glissandi suggest leaves stirred by the breeze. Every instrumental timbre, singly and in combination, contributes to the sensuous, seductive effect. The piece, a test for a virtuoso orchestra, especially the woodwinds, features one of the literature’s greatest solo flute parts played wonderfully on this occasion by the Philharmonic’s principal flutist, Robert Langevin.

Joshua Bell’s performance of the Sibelius was terrific. The concerto brings out all his strengths: the effortless, unlimited virtuosity, glorious, variable tone, and romantic sensibility. The opening seemed to come from a great ice-bound distance, then, breaking free of the arctic cold, the sound became vibrant and intense; the great upward runs swept through the orchestra with dazzling bravura. The slow movement was dark, warm, and very expressive, and culminated in an ecstatic climax. The Finale was very fast and brilliant, but immaculately clear; even the impossible scales in thirds were perfect. In top form, Joshua Bell seems to be reaching new violinistic and communicative heights with every concert.

The Strauss and Hindemith also became more impressive with each performance. Gilbert seemed to exhibit greater confidence, freedom, and exuberance, and to encourage the musicians to do the same. In fact, the Strauss also became faster, demanding ever greater virtuosity from the players, and louder, with the percussion, partly placed toward the front of the stage next to the first violins, rattling the rafters – and the audience. But the build-ups were perfectly paced, the climaxes grand and rapturous.

It was good to hear the rarely-played Hindemith three times in close succession; repeated listening (and playing) clarified the complex counterpoint and intricate texture, and brought out the work’s light-hearted jocularity – a characteristic not often encountered in this essentially serious composer’s work.  

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

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

Vienna Philharmonic Orchestra
Gustavo Dudamel, conductor
Yo-Yo Ma, cello
Carnegie Hall: Stern Auditorium; New York, NY
October 3, 2010

Gustavo Dudamel. Photo Credit Chris Lee

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

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

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

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

 

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

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

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

Vienna Philharmonic Orchestra at Carnegie Hall

Vienna Philharmonic Orchestra
Nikolaus Harnoncourt, conductor
Carnegie Hall, New York, NY
September 30, 2010

The Vienna Philharmonic Orchestra led by Nikolaus Harnoncourt – Photo Credit: Chris Lee

If the Orchestra’s first program was distinctly conventional, the second program was distinctly unusual: Bedrich Smetana’s six-part tone poem “Ma Vlást” (My Homeland). Though rarely performed in its entirety, the second movement, “Vltava” (The Moldau), is often played separately and has become an audience favorite.

Smetana (1824-1884) has been called the founder of nationalism in music. At a time when his country was part of German-speaking Austria, he studied and mastered Czech, an extremely difficult language, joined the nationalist movement, and incorporated Czech folk-music into his compositions. (The most famous one is the delightful comic opera, “The Bartered Bride.”) “Ma Vlást,” a highly programmatic work, is a celebration of Czech culture, history, and the beauties of the countryside.

The first movement, “Vysehrad,” describes the grand medieval Castle that once towered above Prague; its theme, the majestic opening arpeggios played alternately by two harps (seated in this performance on opposite sides of the stage), recurs in different forms in several movements.

The second movement, “Vltava,” is a Rondo whose theme is a broad, haunting melody with a strange resemblance to Israel’s national anthem, “Hatikva” (Hope). The music follows the river from source to estuary; on the way, it encounters peasants frolicking at a wedding, elves dancing in the moonlight, a forest hunt, and the rapids. When it passes Prague and Vysehrad, the harps re-state their arpeggio theme, taken up emphatically by the orchestra.

The third movement, “Sarka,” is a percussion-driven war-like march. Sarka, a maiden betrayed by her lover, seeks revenge on all men; she has assembled a band of warrior-maidens to battle an army of men. She tricks its leader into falling in love with her, then drugs the men into a drunken sleep and calls on her women to slaughter them. The music is loud, wild, and chaotic – a vengeful orgy.

Peace is restored in the fourth movement, “In Bohemia’s Fields and Forests.” It, too, is sometimes heard separately; its pastoral serenity, melodic flow, rich harmonies and concluding cheerful dance have made it almost as popular as Vltava.

The last two movements, “Tabor” and “Blanik” are meant to be played together, because both are based on the same Hussite hymn. Tabor is a Bohemian town used by the followers of Jan Hus (later executed as a rebel) as the site of their resistance to royal authority. Blanik is a mountain where a band of dead knights (or their spirits) stands ready to aid the nation in times of travail. The Hussite chorale serves as a majestic march of the rebellious and ultimately victorious Hussites, and finally as an assertion of “the resurrection of the Czech nation, its future happiness and glory.” “Tabor” is perhaps a bit too long; the chorale is repeated too many times, though in different keys, but “Blanik” is concise and ends triumphantly, with the Vysehrad theme sounding in the distance.

The work was ideally suited to the famous “Vienna” sound: the warm, velvety strings, the colorful woodwinds, the mellow brass, especially the prominent horns. The musicians seemed to revel in their own ravishing tone, the masterful orchestration, the idiomatic Czech rhythms and melodic lines. Again, the only flaw was a lack of balance: the middle voices often obscured the melodies and the brass and percussion were too loud.

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