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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 30^th 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.

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.

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.

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

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.

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.

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

Distinguished Concerts International New York (DCINY) in Review

“Messiah…Refreshed!”

Distinguished Concerts International New York (DCINY): Distinguished Concerts Orchestra, Distinguished Concerts Singers International, Jonathan Griffith, Music Director; Penelope Shumate, soprano; Doris Brunatti, contralto;
Jorge Garza, tenor; Liam Moran, bass.

Avery Fisher Hall; Lincoln Center, New York, NY

November 25, 2012

Written in the space of 24 days in 1741, George Frideric Handel’s Messiah is a work with a storied performance history. Premiered in Dublin in 1742, it has been a mainstay of the repertoire since. Using a libretto from Charles Jennens, Messiah is the story of Christ’s incarnation, death, and resurrection.

Messiah is no stranger to reworking and revision. Handel himself rearranged and rewrote sections to suit his needs; selections could be added or deleted based on the talents available. Mozart produced a version in 1789 that is still in use today, although nineteenth-century critic Moritz Hauptmann caustically remarked that Mozart’s revisions were “stucco ornaments on a marble temple.” The controversy has not abated. There have been “sing-a-long” editions and even a rock version performed and recorded. The version performed at today’s concert is generally attributed to Sir Thomas Beecham and Eugene Goossens, although Beecham’s contribution was overstated for many years by his widow. It was not until the 1990s that Lady Beecham’s claims were refuted; the score was completely Goossens’s work.

Beecham commissioned fellow conductor and composer Goossens to re-orchestrate Messiah to utilize the full forces of the Royal Philharmonic Orchestra. He felt that larger forces were needed to project the sound in increasingly large venues. Beecham recorded this version in 1959; it is still available on CD today, and it continues to be controversial. Purists who believe that Handel’s conception should remain true to the original find the Goossens version to be vulgar, while its defenders argue that the greater forces enhance the grandeur of the work.

Make no mistake; this is not your great-grandfather’s Messiah. It is brash, extroverted, and at times bombastic. It is not Messiah – it is MESSIAH, with double the sound, new and improved, with cymbals and triangle! It is Messiah on steroids, the epitome of the saying “Go big or go home.” This version is tailor-made for DCINY; an organization that never fails to pull out all the stops in putting on a big show.

Conductor Jonathan Griffith led the orchestra and 200-plus chorus with a sure hand. It would have been easy to lose control of these large forces, but Griffith was up to challenge of delivering the big sound without losing focus on the music itself. The playing was excellent throughout and the exuberance of the percussionists was a special joy to see and hear. The trumpet playing in Behold, I tell you a mystery was particularly striking in its clarity and beauty of tone. The chorus was well balanced and strong in its supporting role.

The four soloists had the biggest challenge, to sing their demanding parts while having to project enough to be heard over the large forces behind them. There were moments when each singer was in peril of being drowned out, but happily, they all overcame the dangers and delivered fine performances. I believe each soloist became stronger and more confident as the performance progressed, as they made adjustments to project their voices. Soprano Penelope Shumate was confident and assured; There were shepherds abiding in the field was a highlight of her performance. Contralto Doris Brunatti was compelling in her role; Behold, a virgin shall conceive was her best of several excellent solos. Tenor Jorge Garza sang his role with total involvement; one could feel the venom in the word “rebuke” in his solo, Thy rebuke hath broken his heart. It was his He that dwelleth in heaven, though, that was the highlight of his performance to this listener. Finally, the talented Bass Liam Moran was not to be overshadowed by his fellow soloists. His solo, Why do the nations so furiously rage together?, was the high point of his outstanding singing.

One would be remiss if not making special mention of the Hallelujah chorus. It did not disappoint, delivered in a manner that could be described as over-the-top, complete with young members of the Distinguished Concerts Singers International joining in from the second tier in the audience (in what is becoming a signature feature of DCINY concerts). The audience stood spontaneously as they often do for the Hallelujah, and many could be seen singing along. At the close, the audience roared its approval for several minutes. The closing chorus, Worthy is the lamb that was slain, was performed with similar spirit. The excitement built to such a fever pitch that one bass in the chorus jumped in a moment early after a dramatic pause. The work was brought to a rousing close, and the audience responded with five minutes of thunderous applause, eliciting several curtain calls for the soloists and conductor Griffith. It was a well-deserved ovation to a memorable concert. Congratulations to DCINY for yet another winning performance.

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

Musica de Camara Orchestra in Review

Musica de Camara 33rd Anniversary Concert

Roselin Pabón, guest conductor; The Virtuosi Percussion Ensemble, guest artists

Merkin Concert Hall; New York, New York

November 20, 2012

Celebrating its 33rd anniversary, the Musica de Camara orchestra presented a concert playing the works of Latin composers and featuring a commissioned work having its World Premiere. A very large and enthusiastic audience was in attendance. There was an air of excitement throughout the hall as the reunion of friends and families took place. Indeed, it was already 25 minutes past the 8pm starting time before everyone had found a seat.

In her pre-concert remarks, founder Eva de La O recounted a story from 33 years ago. She had just given her debut as a singer and was being interviewed on radio. Ms. de La O was asked how she was able to generate interest in her career without a manager, to which she replied that she reached out the Puerto Rican community as a resource. The interviewer responded with, “I didn’t know Puerto Ricans liked classical music!” Ms. de La O was aghast and took this comment as a call to arms. The creation of Musica de Camara was her answer. Musica de Camara’s mission is both to preserve the traditions of Puerto Rican, Hispanic, and African American classical music and to commission works from contemporary composers, particularly from these ethnic groups. We should probably thank this nameless interviewer for his ignorant statement; who knows what wonderful music might have gone unheard over these 33 years had he not uttered these words!

Fuga con Pajarillo by Venezuelan composer Aldemaro Romero (1928-2007) opened the concert. Pajarillo is a Venezuelan folk song, which Romero used as thematic material. Purists might argue about the fugue designation, but there were certainly fugal elements. This is an engaging piece that evokes some of the spirit of Padre Soler with the musical spices of Venezuela. There was the occasional imprecise articulation in the violins that muddied sections, but overall, this was an excellent performance. Abre Los Ojos, Cierra Los Ojos (Open your eyes, Close your eyes) from Columbian composer Hector Martignon (b. 1972) was next. This dreamy piece, with highly chromatic writing and impressionistic elements, was played beautifully from the opening viola solo to the final “closing of the eyes.” Next followed La Bella Cubana by Cuban José Silvestre White (1835-1918), in an arrangement by Dominican Alberto Hernandez (b. 1961). It is a melancholic work tinged with nostalgia and was played with sensitivity without being maudlin. It was a lovely performance. The crowd-pleasing Cañambu by Mexican composer Eduardo Gamboa (b. 1951) followed; the ebullient finale of this work brought loud cheers from the audience. Ending the first half with the Argentinian master of the tango, Astor Piazzolla (1911-1992), Michelangelo 70 was scintillating from start to finish. The audience roared its approval and gave the orchestra a standing ovation.

Maestro Roselin Pabón started the second half by sharing some insights about Jack Delano (1914-1997) and his work Sinfonieta para cuerdas (Sinfonietta for Strings), even having one of the bass players demonstrate the Seis Mapeye motif on which the movement of the same name was built. Delano, born Jacob Ovcharov in what was then in the Russian empire, moved with his family to the United States in 1923 and eventually settled in Puerto Rico in 1946. Two movements of the Sinfonieta were played, the inventive Seis Mapeye, and the optimistic Allegretto giocoso. The Allegretto showed the influence of Ginastera; specifically Estancia. The Camara continued demonstrating their masterful playing; it was another dynamic performance of a gem of a piece.

Tres Secretos en Plena; Encantos de Puerto Rico (Three Secrets in Plena; Charms of Puerto Rico) by the gifted Puerto Rican composer Manuel Calzada (b. 1975), was commissioned by Musica de Camara and given its World Premiere. The Virtuosi Percussion joined the Camara in the role of Pleneros, traditional folk singers who also play tambourines and the guicharo. The charismatic Maestro Pabón gave a brief explanation of the three movements; Dos Misterios en la Ventana (Two Mysteries in the Window), Navegando Sobre la Luz (Sailing over the light), and Camino al Cielo (The Road to Heaven). This work was the high point of the evening to this listener. The brilliant writing, which brought to mind Bartok’s masterpiece Music for Strings, Percussion and Celesta (but not in the derivative sense) and the use of the Virtuosi Percussion in a way that honored Puerto Rican tradition joined together to create a magical effect. When the Virtuosi Percussion came to the front of the stage for the final movement and sang, it brought the house down. A long, loud standing ovation was the result; the composer came to the stage to take his well-deserved bows. The entire movement was repeated as an encore to an even louder ovation. It was a great ending to a great concert.

I must express two reservations: First, the lack of biographical information about the composers is a serious omission. While some of these composers may be well known in their native countries, they cannot be considered “household names” to the music world at large (with the exception of Piazzolla). To omit even the most basic biographical information could make the layperson feel like an outsider. Secondly, while the core audience might understand Spanish titles, idiomatic translations would help those who do not. The door swings both ways; one cannot be indignant about one’s ethnicity being marginalized, while excluding others in a similar way. I am sure this was not the intent, but it is something to consider in the future.

The Musica de Camara orchestra is a “can’t miss” group. Thank you, Eva de La O for your continuing commitment to this wonderful organization. I hope to be present for the 66th anniversary!

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

Park Avenue Chamber Symphony in Review

Park Avenue Chamber Symphony

David Bernard, Conductor

Terry Eder, Piano

All Saints Church, New York

October 28, 2012

Where do musically inclined Manhattanites go to exorcise their day-job demons when they would prefer following a conductor to watching one through binoculars? The City offers a handful of choices compared with the array of amateur and semi-professional groups one can find in, say, London, where a hidden world class talent might be launched on the collective buoyancy of an auspicious gathering. Here, our community social life facilitates contact and much-needed creative entertainment for the worn out; a conductor’s role is one part music educator, one part maître d’, one part recruiter/fundraiser, and one part Toscanini-tempered-with-David-Letterman. Concerts, presented after about six weeks of growing hubbub, can be the highlight of a participant’s week or month, as many instrumentalists do what they can at home and save their all for the show. The decision to enroll in one ensemble or another can hinge on the location or ambience of rehearsal space as much as the season’s repertoire or the conductor’s acceptance of an unburnished riff.

The first-rate Park Avenue Chamber Symphony holds its rightful place at the forefront of New York’s handful. Chamber seems a misnomer when one surveys seventy musicians, counting a hefty corps of low brass, packed into the apse of All Saints Church, the orchestra’s home for the past four or so of its thirteen years. On the eve of devastating Hurricane Sandy, with nary a hint of low pressure rattling its large wooden doors, the church saw a loyal and jubilant tide of admirers within as conductor David Bernard directed a program of German standards. The Sunday concert was the second of a weekend pair titled “Wit and Radiance.”

Maestro Bernard cuts a benevolent figure on the podium, more Cheshire cat than tyrant, but his musical instincts (and memory) are superb and his subjects are with him at every lift of a finger. Schubert’s mysterious but ubiquitous “Unfinished” Symphony was surprisingly fresh and limpid, with gracefully shaped song floating atop a securely anchored cushion of bass. Indeed, texture can be a tricky issue when balancing such an abundance of reedy and dark-hued instruments, as was evident in Strauss’s enormous Till Eulenspiegels lustige Streiche. An ambitious undertaking for any orchestra, this virtuosic, cackling tone poem calls for quick reflexes to capture the dash of vinegar in Strauss’s mock-Tristan chords, the sudden reliance on sumptuous strings, or the treacherously ironic French horn and E-flat clarinet solos. All effects were met with resources of confidence and precision.

The conundrum arrived after intermission in the form of Beethoven’s “Emperor” Concerto, with accomplished artist Terry Eder unwittingly cast as miracle worker for the afternoon. This frustration she shouldered with an angelic smile and a healthy dose of rubato. Attempts to coax glistening scales and shimmering trills from a piano less than imperial were moderately successful and unforced. The solidity of orchestral bass was a salvation here: apart from some ragged close calls in the first movement development, Maestro Bernard expertly filled in missing low fundamental frequencies and pulse, providing a generous gift to the soloist’s left hand. A muted and evocative slow movement erupted into a romping, slightly girlish rondo whose Viennese syncopations took on a rather dance-hall quality. Ms. Eder was clearly playing with abandon, and the final runs of the concerto shone with taut facility in the pianist’s seamless inflections.

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

Quotes from Famous Composers, Opera Singers, Instrumentalists, and Conductors

As a boy, I mesmerizingly lost myself in books. After all, words mean things, and we are all judged, in part, by the words we use. In those pre-internet days, frequently I hung out at my library, eager to learn what was going on – both near and far. As a budding pianist, one thing that was particularly exciting was discovering famous musicians’ autobiographies – what they said about themselves, others. their lives, and their milieus.

For this writing, I’ve assembled quotes from famous composers, opera singers, instrumentalists and conductors. It is my intent to amuse, and enlighten you with vignettes from some of those revered in the field of music who have shared their thoughts with us.

COMPOSERS

1) Wagner: “Don’t look at the trombones. It only encourages them.” “I write music with an exclamation point!” “Whatever my passions demand of me, I become for the time being – musician, poet, director, author, lecturer or anything else.”

2) Liszt: “Without any assistance whatever, I founded a school in Weimar in 10 years. Only I could perform certain works with the scanty means that I dared not ask anyone else to work with.” “It is my fervent wish and greatest ambition to leave a work with a few useful instructions for the pianists after me.” “In Hungary, all native music, in its origin, is divided naturally into melody destined for song or melody for the dance.”

3) Beethoven: “Music should strike fire from the heart of man, and bring tears from the eyes of woman.” “What you are, you are by accident of birth; what I am, I am by myself. There are and will be a thousand princes; there is only one Beethoven.” “Tones sound, and roar and storm about me until I have set them down in notes.”

4) Rossini: “Wagner has lovely moments but awful quarter hours.” “Give me a laundry-list and I will set it to music.” “Eating, loving, singing and digesting are, in truth, the four acts of the comic opera known as life, and they pass like bubbles of a bottle of champagne. Whoever lets them break without having enjoyed them is a complete fool.”

5) Stravinsky: “Lesser artists borrow, great artists steal.” “Harpists spend 90 percent of their lives tuning their harps and 10 pecent playing out of tune.”The trouble with music appreciation in general is that people are taught to have too much respect for music. They should be taught to love it instead.”

6) Puccini: “Inspiration is an awakening, a quickening of all man’s faculties, and it is manifested in all high artistic achievements.” “Art is a kind of illness.” “Who has sent you to me? God?” In a letter to Liszt. When first hearing Caruso sing.

OPERA SINGERS

1) Domingo: “The high note is not the only thing.” “But I won’t deprive myself of singing opera as long as my voice follows.” “If I rest, I rust.”

2) Melba: “The first rule in opera is the first rule in life: see to everything yourself.” “One of the drawbacks of fame is that one can never escape from it.” “If I’d been a housemaid I’d have been the best in Australia – I couldn’t help it. It’s got to be perfection for me.”

3) Pavarotti: “Learning music by reading about it is like making love by mail.” I think a life in music is a life beautifully spent and this is what I’ve devoted my life to.” “If children are not introduced to music at an early age, I believe something fundamental is actually being taken away from them.”

4) Callas: “An opera begins long before the curtain goes up and ends long after it has come down. It starts in my imagination, it becomes my life, and it stays part of my life long after I’ve left the opera house.” “When my enemies stop hissing, I shall know I’m slipping.” “That is the difference between good teachers and great teachers: good teachers make the best of a pupil’s means; great teachers foresee a pupil’s ends.”

5) Marian Anderson: “It is easy to look back, self-indulgently, feeling pleasantly sorry for onself and saying I didn’t have this and I didn’t have that. But it is only the grown woman regretting the hardships of a little girl who never thought they were hardships at all. She had the things that really mattered.” “A singer starts by having his instrument as a gift from God . . . when you have been given something in a moment of grace, it is sacrilegeous to be greedy.” “When I sing, I don’t want them to see that my face is black. I don’t want them to see that my face is white. I want them to see my soul. And that is colorless.”

6) Beverly Sills: “My voice had a long, nonstop career. It deserves to be put to bed with quiet and dignity, not yanked out every once in a while to see if it can still do what it used to do. It can’t.” “Art is the signature of civilizations.” “You may be disappointed if you fail, but you are doomed if you don’t try.”

INSTRUMENTALISTS

1) Casals: The most perfect technique is that which is not noticed at all.” “Music is the divine way to tell beautiful, poetic things to the heart.” “We should say to each of them [our children]: Do you know what you are? You are a marvel. You are unique. In all the years that have passed, there has never been another child like you. Your legs, your arms, your clever fingers, the way you move. You may become a Shakespeare, a Michelangelo, a Beethoven. You have the capacity for anything. Yes, you are a marvel. And when you grow up, can you then harm another who is, like you, a marvel?”

2) Segovia: “Lean your body forward slightly to support the guitar against your chest, for the poetry of the music should resound in your heart.” “The guitar is a small orchestra. It is polyphonic. Every string is a different color, a different voice.” “The advice I am giving always to all my students is above all to study the music profoundly . . . music is like the ocean, and the instruments are little or bigger islands, very beautiful for the flowers and trees.”

3) Horowitz. “I am a general. My soldiers are the keys and I must command them.” “My face is my passport.” “I must tell you I take terrible risks. Because my playing is very clear, when I make a mistake you hear it. If you want me to play only the notes without any specific dynamics, I will never make one mistake. Never be afraid to dare.”

4) Landowska: “Oh well, you play Bach your way. I’ll play him his.” “I never practice. I always play.” “The most beautiful thing in the world is, precisely, the conjunction of learning and inspiration. Oh, the passion for research and the joy of discovery!”

5) Heifitz: “There is no top. There are always further heights to reach.” “I occasionally play works by contemporary composers and for two reasons. First to discourage the composer from writing any more and secondly to remind myself how much I appreciate Beethoven.” “Criticism does not disturb me, for I am my own severest critic. Always in my playing I strive to surpass myself, and it is this constant struggle that makes music fascinating to me.”

6) Wynton Marsalis: “I believe in professionalism, but playing is not like a job. You have to be grateful to have the opportunity to play.” “There was one thing Beethoven didn’t do. When one of his string quartets was played, you can believe the second violin wasn’t improvising.” “Don’t worry what others say about your music. Pursue whatever you are hearing but if everybody really hates your music maybe you could try some different approaches.”

CONDUCTORS

1) Stokowski: “A painter paints his pictures on canvas. But musicians paint their pictures on silence. We provide the music and you provide the silence.” “As a boy I remember how terribly real the statues of the saints would seem at 7 o’clock Mass – before I’d had breakfast. From that I learned always to conduct hungry.” “On matters of intonation and technicalities I am more than a martinet – I am a martinetissimo.”

2) Ormandy: “Why do you always insist on playing when I’m trying to conduct?” “I’m one of the boys, no better than the last second violinist. I’m just the lucky one standing in the center, telling them how to play.” “Muti* is going to do the Alpine Symphony this year. He will do it well because it is not very well known.”

3) von Karajan: “I find the final passage especially significent and profound, a kind of artistic will and testament.” “I said to the orchestra, ‘If there are discords we must always play them as beautifully as we know how.’ A discord is not an excuse for ugly music-making, for playing out of tune.” “Mahler’s music is full of dangers and traps, and one of them, which many fell into, is oversensualizing the thing until it becomes sort of . . . kitsch.”

4) Toscanini: “Can’t you read? The score demands ‘con amore,’ and what are you doing? You are playing it like married men!” “To some it is Napoleon, to some it is a philosophical struggle, to me it is allegro con brio.”* “If you want to please only the critics, don’t play too loud, too soft, too fast and too slow.”

5) Levine: “I grew up in an era where an orchestra was like a treasure chest.” “It’s just that, when the orchestra looks at me, I want them to see a completely involved person who reflects what we rehearsed, and whose function is to make it possible for them to do it.” “It [the orchestra] has to be able to play at the maximum expression and communication in every style, and the only way you can do that is – like Verdi said – working with a file, every day, little by little, until the orchestra’s collective qualities emerge.”

6) Bernstein (As conductor): “The key to the mystery of a great artist is that for reasons unknown, he will give away his energies and his life just to make sure that one note follows another . . . and leaves us with the feeling that something is right in the world.” “Technique is communication: the two words are synonymous in conductors.” “This will be our reply to violence: to make music more intensely, more beautifully, more devotedly than ever before.”

Afterword

In the spirit of fun and appreciation of all those who have shared their opinions – enriching our lives, I offer a final quote from a much-loved pianist, author, raconteur, comedian and actor, Oscar Levant:

What the world needs is more geniuses with humility. There are so few of us left.
Bless you,
Oscar

by Jim Leeds for New York Concert Review; New York, NY

Kyung-Hye Baek in Review

Kyung-Hye Baek, piano

Weill Hall at Carnegie Hall, New York

October 15, 2012

Kyung-Hye Baek

If musical career-building were analogous to cooking, Kyung-Hye Baek might be said to have “the recipe.” Among the sought-after ingredients these days – conservatory studies (a doctorate from Peabody), the requisite recital and orchestral performances (various appearances in Korea, the U.S., and Europe), a sprinkling of competition prizes (the Daegu Music Association and others), and the cherry on top of a Weill Hall New York debut – all of these are now counted among her credits. Throw in an elegant stage presence, and the table might seem to be set; what remains to be seen, however, is the extent of her musical passion and where it will take her and her audiences.

The musical menu on Ms. Baek’s recent Weill Hall recital, while varied, consisted of mainstays of the piano repertoire: two Scarlatti Sonatas (the perennially popular B Minor K. 27 and D minor, K. 141), Haydn’s buoyant Sonata in G Major, Hob. XVI: 40, Beethoven’s stormy Sonata Op. 57 (the “Appassionata”), a set of lyrical Schubert-Liszt songs, and Prokofiev’s thorny Sonata No. 6. On paper, this seemed a program of huge range, as one is accustomed to large differences of sound and approach from one style to the next, but the end result in Ms. Baek’s hands was somewhat more homogeneous than one expected, with all works characterized by a similar glossy polish. Each piece was played with secure memory, reliable fingers, and a sound that was never strident. At climaxes, Ms. Baek did use the bass resonance of the hall’s Steinway to good advantage (if sometimes overwhelming the treble in the Scarlatti and Beethoven), but one could have enjoyed a larger dynamic range.

Among some high points were some excellent repeated notes, as heard in the Scarlatti D Minor Sonata, aka the “Toccata,” and also in the Haydn. Ms. Baek never overdid the Haydn’s inherent humor, but let the structural “punch lines” speak for themselves. One wanted more contrast at times, but the Presto was full of drive and momentum, if occasionally a bit too hectic for this listener.

Beethoven’s Appassionata Sonata was performed rather conservatively, missing some of its usual fire, but in terms of neatness and care, it lacked for little. One sometimes wonders whether proliferating doctoral piano programs might not be prolonging the sort of “defensive playing” that stems from extra years of jury exams and evaluations, shielding young players from the excitement of “going for broke” before live audiences. At any rate, if one is offering chiefly mainstream repertoire, there is additional reason to try to bring it a new dimension interpretively. These new dimensions may come with time and freedom from academic boundaries. Meanwhile, the pianist has a more than solid grounding and tremendous untapped potential.

Ms. Baek showed fine discipline in the voicing of her Schubert-Liszt, playing Ständchen, Gretchen am Spinnrade, Aufenthalt, and Auf dem Wasser zu singen, and these were also highlights. She showed a good deal of patience and maturity in her weaving of melodic lines and created a lovely silken sound. One wonders whether there might be Schubert Sonatas and chamber music in Ms. Baek’s future, judging by the lyricism in which she seems so at home.

The evening closed with the first of Prokofiev’s “War Sonatas” -given a refined performance – too refined, in fact, for this listener’s taste. An angry and craggy piece, it usually evokes more in the way of outbursts, but Ms. Baek stressed its cerebral aspects. Though this listener wanted more, the work did close with strength. Warm applause elicited an encore of “October” from “The Seasons” by Tchaikovsky.