CD in Review: David B. Goldberg

CD in Review: David B. Goldberg
Absolute Music CD1: 13 Tracks

David Goldberg

David B. Goldberg spent the last three years writing and producing “ABSOLUTE MUSIC CD 1: 13 TRACKS”, with the general idea that music today is frequently used in service to other media, while its own abstract nature has become secondary. His CD strives to bridge the gap between high and low art, contribute something new and different to the musical landscape, while at the same time be accessible to all. After a break of seven years, Goldberg began to compose again three years ago. This CD incorporates his latest work.

The 13 tracks are simply labeled with a number, and this way they leave much to the imagination. The tracks vary greatly in both style and mood. Sections that are hypnotically repetitious with subtle change–i.e. minimalistic–fit the best with the electronica sound that permeates the disc (the music was composed using computer programs such as Finale). Yet–thanks to Logic Audio, a program that gives a human playback–there are some very personal elements to the music: a liberty to rhythm (rubato), a good deal of expression such as vibrato, and a wide range of dynamics. Although this disc sounds like it could be a demo, the recording is already on sale on iTunes and the like. According to Goldberg, he is aiming for that electronica edge to the sound in “Absolute Music”, and he is not craving live musicians for performance or for future recordings of this work. He does however intend to find an orchestra of live musicians for future endeavors–especially theater pieces–and he has written for musicians and live performances in the past.

Some of this “Absolute Music” CD sounds other-worldly, perhaps lending itself to the Science Fiction genre. Some of it could serve as video game music or other types of film music because everything about film is obviously pre-recorded, and nothing about it is live. And when listening to “Absolute Music”, you feel you are being taken on a journey without any specific narrative. This is common when listening to Brahms, who avoided descriptive titles and program music; the closest he came to describing what you were hearing was when he composed and titled his “Tragic Overture”. But even here, instead of naming an overture after a Shakespearean drama such as “Romeo and Juliet” (Tchaikovsky) or “Othello” (Dvorak), Brahms chose to label his work in the most general of terms–leaving the listener great freedom of thought.

Track 1 is consistently gripping and lends itself to the aforementioned action-film or video game music, with some ethnic harmonic and melodic flavor added in. The crashing, dissonant chords are indeed startling and effective. The next track provides welcome contrast with its hypnotic and soothing syncopations. Track 3 could use some more chord changes; if the desire here and elsewhere is to keep it simple for the audience, Goldberg could find some middle ground to satisfy the more sophisticated ear.

Track 4 is folksy and rather archaic with a catchy lilt, and the fifth track–in a refreshing minor mode–goes perhaps a little overboard with its use of percussion. Some moments here and elsewhere feel a bit random; melodic ideas are sometimes disconnected to preceding ones, leaving things a bit disjointed. Goldberg, however, is not trying to recreate traditional forms, but rather take you on an abstract journey. And sometimes journeys can be very bumpy roads.

The sixth track could use more advanced counterpoint and imitation, while the following track–Track 7– does indeed incorporate more mature compositional techniques, captivating this listener with its time changes, as well as its atmosphere.

Track 8 has a spooky, entrancing horror film music feel, and the following music on Track 9 also has some droning sounds, but adds an appealing combination of flute solo and chimes. The 10th track contains the strands of strings and piano combined with an unusual, video game-like rumble. Tracks 11 and 12 are also quite unique, sometimes combining new age-like chordal music with Neo-Baroque ornamentation and trills.

Track 13 is mysterious–like the work’s title as a whole–but also contains the most interesting use of counterpoint; it is written with compositional maturity, yet it’s accessible at the same time. It is often a challenge to satisfy both educated audiences and more novice listeners, but with this track and some preceding tracks, Goldberg succeeds.

The CD’s electronica sound, which sometimes wears thin, can still exist on its own without the benefit of live musicians because the music takes you on a voyage away from reality. Then naturally, an ideal contemporary way to represent fantasy is with a futuristic sound.

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

Festival Chamber Music in Review

Festival Chamber Music in Review
David Oei, Heléne Jeanney, piano, Eriko Sato, violin, Calvin Wiersma, viola, Ruth Sommers, cello/director, Frank Morelli, bassoon
Weill Recital Hall at Carnegie Hall, New York, NY
May 12, 2011

Festival Chamber Music has been presenting five annual chamber music programs in New York for 18 season; it has become a pillar of the city’s musical life. The rotating members are all top-flight freelance musicians, busy as soloists, orchestra players and teachers; the group has built up a large, loyal following, which always fills the hall to overflowing.

For their final concert of the 2010-2011 season, the players had selected familiar favorites by Mozart and Brahms, and an unfamiliar novelty: a Quartet for Bassoon and Strings by Bernard Garfield, a name well-known only to listeners of “a certain age.”  Born in 1924, he was one of the most famous and esteemed bassoonists of the mid- and late 19-hundreds: founder of the New York Woodwind Quintet in 1946; principal bassoonist of the New York Little Orchestra Society and the New York City Ballet from 1949 to 1957; principal bassoonist of the Philadelphia Orchestra from 1957 to 2000. He has written numerous chamber music works featuring his instrument; the Quartet on this program dated from about 50 years ago and seemed most strongly influenced by Béla Bartók. Naturally written very idiomatically for the bassoon, it is a real bravura piece, vividly illustrating both its serious and its humorous characteristics. The slow middle movement sang in long melodic lines; the two corner movements, “Allegro con spirito” and “Allegro scherzando” were indeed full of spirit and drollery. Frank Morelli played the virtuoso bassoon part brilliantly and with great aplomb, no mean feat with the composer sitting in the first row. At 87, Garfield has the spryness of a man half his age; he had come to New York from Philadelphia, where he still lives, to hear his piece and bask in its enthusiastic reception. During Intermission, he struck up animated conversations with other members of the audience, who, having recognized his name from his years on the stage, were inquiring whether he was really the same person? “Yes,” he answered, grinning,” I’m Bernie.” The string players partnered Morelli splendidly, with obvious admiration for his virtuosity and enjoyment of the music.

The program opened with Mozart’s Sonata in F major K.497 for Piano Four Hands, played with unanimity, elegance and style by Heléne Jeanney on the upper and David Oei on the lower part. It closed with Brahms’ Piano Quartet No. 1 in G minor, Op. 25, played by Eriko Sato, Calvin Wiersma, Ruth Sommers, and David Oei. They brought out the ardor of the first movement, the wistfulness of the Intermezzo, the warmth of the Andante, and the gypsy abandon of the Rondo alla Zingarese, making it a rousing finale to the concert and the season. The group’s concerts for next season are already set: October 26, December 8, 2011, February 9, March 29, May 12, 2012.

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

Luisa Sereina Splett pianist in Review

Luisa Sereina Splett pianist in Review
Weill Hall at Carnegie Hall, New York, NY
May 26, 2011

For a promising pianist in her twenties making her springtime debut at Weill Hall, Luisa Splett chose a program that was surprisingly autumnal. Opening with one of this reviewer’s personal favorites, Medtner’s quietly haunting “Sonata Reminiscenza” (from Op. 38 “Forgotten Melodies”), Ms. Splett played with a delicate, measured sound and a cerebral restraint that allowed the composition to reveal its own wistfulness, as if she were simply hearing it from afar. Showing minimal physical movement or romantic liberty and taking barely a nanosecond of rhythmic license, she might have elicited an initial description of being cold or mechanical, but by the end she had conveyed the piece with the purity of a still life painting, an artwork in which the beholder needs to take an active interpretive role with no predigesting or pandering. A strict adherence to each beat, which might also have seemed wooden at first, convinced me by the end that it enhanced the piece, evoking loss and the passage of time, as the work’s title and message suggest. The tone throughout was beautiful, thoughtfully prepared and mellow, though I did want more range at times. It was ultimately an unusual and moving performance, ending with a sense of surrender that was extremely poignant. It would be tedious to enumerate the skills, years of study, and international concerts that helped hone this performance, but suffice it to say that Ms. Splett had an early start, having been born to a family of musicians in Switzerland, and that she studied in Chile and Russia, where she is now preparing to defend a doctoral dissertation on the work of pianist/composer Emil Frey.

More retrospective and introspective music followed, namely the oft-ignored Ninth Sonata of Prokofiev, the last one he completed, around six years before he died. After the violent, biting, and sorrowful qualities of Prokofiev’s “War Sonatas,” the Ninth Sonata (Op. 103 in C Major) stands in complete contrast as a work of serenely narrative quality and less overt drama. Relative to the pyrotechnics in the earlier sonatas, it is far subtler in its demands on the pianist, though requiring imagination throughout, especially in its wittier moments. For this reason, one at times one wanted more contrast and projection from Ms. Splett, but her polish, as seen in the Medtner, was again outstanding. She showed such meticulous attention to the score that a keen, trained listener could probably take dictation from her performance and reproduce the exact score. This quality, along with choice of repertoire, may not easily gain the adulation of lazy or impatient audiences, but it should win the attention of purists and sincere musicians.

Schubert’s mature and meditative B-flat Sonata formed the second half of the program, another “last” of genre, composed in the final year of Schubert’s life. Ms. Splett handled it with what was starting to emerge as her signature serene polish, while also allowing the listener to plumb its depths in its darker moments. It was a fitting close to a unique and beautiful recital.

Once again, it is hard not to comment on how unusual it is for a pianist in the early years of a career to unify a program with what amounts to a theme of looking back in reflection. Understandably, many pianists play debuts that announce, “Here I come!” in displays of brilliance and drama designed to counter an attention deficit, but Ms. Splett is simply not one of them. It is not that she played it “safe” with her choices, as pianists who play these works well know, but that she simply put her program conception first, with intelligence, integrity and the perspective of an old soul. It was a memorable evening from a dedicated artist.

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

The Winners of the Bradshaw & Buono International Piano Competition in Review

 The Winners of the Bradshaw & Buono
International Piano Competition
Weill Recital Hall at Carnegie Hall, New York, NY
May 22, 2011

Katarzyna Musial, Pianist

Founded seven years ago, the Bradshaw & Buono Competition, administered by Cosmo Buono, Artistic Director, and Barry Alexander, Executive Director, is dedicated to discovering a new generation of highly talented classical musicians, and to helping them establish and sustain a career. Auditions are held annually; the contestants come from all over the world. The winners, divided into age groups from Elementary, Middle and High School to College and Adult Amateur, are presented in recital at prestigious concert halls.

It required two concerts to accommodate the 25 first prize winners of the 2011 Competition. Of the eleven who performed at the second one, the youngest was eight years old. Their selections ranged from Beethoven to Scriabin, Liszt and Ginastera, naturally chosen to display primarily their virtuosity and power. This added up to more fast, loud music than one would be likely to hear at a conventional recital program, inducing a sense of gratitude in the listener for every slow, soft, lyrical piece. (The slow movement of Beethoven’s Sonata Op. 111 was a real surprise.)

One of the program’s highlights for contrast was the group presented by Katarzyna Musial. Born in Poland, now living in Canada, Ms. Musial holds degrees from the University of Cracow, the Vancouver Academy of Music, and Montreal’s Concordia University. She has won prizes in the Penderecki International Competition (Cracow), the Kay Meek Competition (Vancouver), the Alban Berg Prize for outstanding merit (Vienna), and the Philip Cohen Award for outstanding performance musicianship (Montreal). At this concert, she performed two Preludes by Olivier Messiaen: “The Dove,” and “A Reflection in the Wind,” the first a gently murmurous, impressionistically shimmering piece, the second a stormy, turbulent one, and three Argentinian Dances, Op. 2, by Alberto Ginastera:”Dance of the Old Herdsman,” “Dance of the Beautiful Maiden,” and “Dance of the Arrogant Cowboy.” As the titles indicate, the first was sturdy and assertive, the second melodious and caressing, and the third wildly virtuosic, with cascading runs, heavy chords, and glissandi all over the keyboard. Ms. Musial met all these challenges head-on. Her technique is brilliant, her tone beautiful, sonorous but never harsh, with a great variety of touch, color and nuance. She had made the idiomatic rhythms and inflections of the Dances completely her own, and projected both fiery temperament and songful lyricism.

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

Yongmei Hu, pianist in Review

Yongmei Hu, pianist in Review
Alice Tully Hall at Lincoln Center, New York, NY
May 22, 2011
 

Yongmei Hu

 

Leafing through the biographical notes of Yongmei Hu prior to her recent New York recital, I was struck not so much by the requisite litanies of achievements and accolades as by her charitable involvement, ranging from the children’s foundation, Alphabet Kids, to Musicians on Call, which brings music to hospitals (plus fundraisers for children with cancer and a performance with Melissa Etheridge at the Breast Cancer Symposium in Washington, D.C.).  Despite a policy of ignoring things extra-musical or prejudicial while reviewing, it was hard not to appreciate the generous spirit in evidence here to match what turned out to be a lovely stage presence. The program listing of two of the finest works in the piano literature, Brahms’s Sonata, Op. 5, in F minor and Chopin’s Preludes, Op. 28, seemed to promise a perfect afternoon, but of course they present colossal challenges as well. In some ways Ms. Hu rose to those challenges, while in others, there was clearly room for growth.

One had to credit Ms. Hu for bravery in choosing to tackle the Brahms F minor Sonata, as the unwieldy stretches throughout did not seem ideally suited to her pianistic abilities. Some pianists overcome such challenges by taking a bit of extra time for reaching, something that even can enhance Brahmsian grandeur, but Ms. Hu tended to do the opposite, as if to get past these challenges quickly (the omission of the first movement repeat underscoring this haste). The result was more messiness than one is accustomed to hearing. Sometimes haste can start a cycle of distraction as well in the performer himself, and this distraction appeared to rattle even the much-loved Andante espressivo; one of the heavenly moments in piano writing is the gentle settling into D-flat major, but the pianist seemed to be anticipating a later section as she opened with a B-flat bass note. The presence of mind she showed was admirable, even playing another incorrect B-flat presumably to balance things out, but clearly something was amiss. While I am extremely lenient about missed notes in the “no holds barred” performance, there are certain errors that reflect more than an off day, suggesting possibly that one has not internalized a work sufficiently deeply or thoroughly. Some later hallowed passages did much to redeem this performance, but the rushing and lapses seemed inevitably to return, unfortunately marring even the last dozen or so bars. Perhaps some of the unsettled feeling may have stemmed from a virtual stampede of latecomers entering after the first movement, leaving Ms. Hu waiting at the keyboard interminably to start the second movement, but in any case one imagined the Chopin Preludes on the second half would enjoy a fresh start.

Much of the Chopin did indeed fare better. The C Major Prelude had a sure-fingered brightness, followed by good momentum in the A minor, albeit at the expense of some pathos. The left hand passagework of the G Major Prelude was a model of fleet and feathery lightness, though one wanted perhaps more singing quality in the right hand. The E minor Prelude was also one of the high points of the set; its tone, balance, and character projection were just right. The spirit in it carried through to some of the other preludes, much of the B minor (No. 6), E Major (No. 9), B Major (No. 11), D-flat Major (No. 15, “Raindrop”), and A-flat Major (No. 17). Low points, due to messiness or lack of thoroughness included the usual suspects, the g-sharp minor, which emerged as a series of downbeats in a hazy flurry and the fiendish B-flat minor, which simply went off the rails, as did the deceptively difficult E-flat Major. All could have prospered from being taken just a bit more slowly. Other reservations included a need for more phrase punctuation in the rather operatic F minor Prelude, plus some curious readings throughout; all finished well, however, with a solid and convincing ending to the final Prelude in D minor. Especially brilliant were the tricky chromatic thirds in which I’ve heard some very famous pianists struggle. Such fine moments led one to feel that, on a different day and given sufficient time to know each work more thoroughly, Ms. Hu would have a recital program to make musicians sit up and take notice.

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

The New York Philharmonic in Review

The New York Philharmonic in Review
Alan Gilbert, Conductor
Lisa Batiashvili, Violinist
Avery Fisher Hall; New York, NY
May 6, 2011

Alan Gilbert conducting the New York Philharmonic; Photo by Chris Lee.

 From the moment she began, the audience was gripped by soloist Lisa Batiashvili’s bravura interpretation of Bartok’s Second Violin Concerto. The audacity and sheer technical brilliance of her playing were truly stunning.  Completely at ease, Batiashvili powered through blisteringly fast string crossings and finger-crippling passages with effortless finesse. So strong was the spell she cast that at the conclusion of her delicate second movement, the theater erupted with coughing: out of respect, the audience had strained not to make a sound until the pause.

 Batiashvili confidently attacked the thorny elements of Bartok’s concerto, but at times lyrical motifs lacked warmth and some solos felt ever so slightly rushed. Nevertheless, her flawless intonation, unshakeable sense of rhythm, and mega-watt stage presence proved that Batiashvili is truly an extraordinary artist.

 After intermission, the New York Philharmonic presented Beethoven’s Symphony No. 3 in E-flat major, Op. 55, “Eroica”. Conductor Alan Gilbert coaxed a warm, round tone out of the Phil, and ensured that Beethoven’s symphony retained a sparkling sense of transparency even in its stormiest moments.

 Careful not to allow the brass to overcome the rest of the orchestra, (as Zubin Mehta was often criticized of during his conducting tenure), Gilbert conjured a sensitive balance, which allowed all of the solo lines to soar above the cushion of sound generated by the rest of the orchestra. Beethoven’s idiosyncratic accents were also brought out beautifully by intelligent bowing choices in the violin sections owing to the fact that Gilbert is himself an accomplished violinist.

 The “Marcia Funebre” was the most gripping movement– at the same time devastatingly bleak and sublime. It was perhaps the most moving live interpretation of this movement that I have ever witnessed.

 When Beethoven’s “Eroica” first debuted, it was criticized for being too long. At the conclusion of the Philharmonic’s performance, however, the audience at Avery Fisher Hall was left wishing the heroic strains of Beethoven’s melodies would never cease.

 –Holly Nelson for New York Concert Review; New York, NY

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by nyconcertreview  for New York Concert Review; New York, NY

The Park Avenue Chamber Symphony in Review

The Park Avenue Chamber Symphony in Review
David Bernard, Music Director and Conductor
Ted Rosenthal, Piano
Bernstein, Beethoven, Rosenthal (World Premiere), and Gershwin
All Saints Church; New York, NY
May 15, 2011
David Bernard conducting the Park Avenue Chamber Symphony. Photo: Jennifer Taylor

David Bernard conducting the Park Avenue Chamber Symphony. Photo: Jennifer Taylor

 

The Park Avenue Chamber Symphony’s performance of Beethoven’s Eighth Symphony was captivating throughout; the clarity of rhythm and the musical conviction of the players were superb in what was a sparkling account. Music Director and Conductor David Bernard made the most of Beethoven’s melodic material by emphasizing the shape of the musical line, and Beethoven’s trademark sforzandos (heavy accents) were punctuated with tremendous vigor. All dynamics were presented with great contrast, but Bernard also brought out the nuanced, Haydnesque elements in the music: the humor, the grace, the lightness of touch in the orchestration, and he emphasized the Viennese dance music that permeates the score.

Bernstein’s “Candide Overture” was given a vibrant account, as this tricky piece–with all its contrapuntal elements–was appropriately feisty and comical. In Ted Rosenthal’s “Jazz Fantasy” for Piano and Orchestra (world premiere), the soloist, Rosenthal himself–who is better known as a jazz pianist–played the improvised sections with panache and enthusiasm. When he was playing the written-out parts, he seemed a bit stifled–which is odd because he composed the piece himself.  Then again, Rachmaninoff was not always at home when he played his own music. In the “Jazz Fantasy,” Bernard was–despite all the difficulties of a new piece–relaxed and precise. The cello section had some difficulties with intonation and ensemble, but the violins and woodwinds were accurate and had a nicely blended sound–although not always audible. When they were heard, the solo flute and clarinet were wonderful. The brass section was sometimes excessively loud or unreliable; the trumpet soloist, for example, made a noticeable fumble at the very opening of the piece. On a side note, there was a cute moment when the jazz drum set player glanced over in the direction of the classical percussionists, with a thinly veiled look of disapproval as they played a rather bland, orchestrated version of a Latin clavé rhythm. A few moments later, the clavé motif shifted to the drum set player, who played it with a natural affinity, and had a slightly smug look on his face as he did.

The “Jazz Fantasy” certainly had overtones of “Rhapsody in Blue,” although it pales in comparison to Gershwin’s masterpiece. (What wouldn’t?) It seemed to be a big crowd pleaser anyway; both Mr. Rosenthal’s piece and “Rhapsody in Blue” received standing ovations. In the Gershwin, the conductor and soloist communicated exceptionally well, the clarinetist played an excellent opening solo, and the strings seemed more secure and enthusiastic in this piece, without question due to the work’s familiarity. In the Gershwin, Rosenthal took many refreshing liberties in fantastic solo playing, adding some rather long improvised sections to the piano cadenzas. In a delicate scherzando passage near the end, Rosenthal and the orchestra were at odds rhythmically, but this appeared to be the fault of the first violinists, as their eyes were glued to their music here. Overall, “Rhapsody in Blue” was very moving, and in summation, this was an immensely enjoyable concert. 

–Holly Nelson for New York Concert Review; New York, NY

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by nyconcertreview  for New York Concert Review; New York, NY

Aglaia Koras, Pianist in Review

Aglaia Koras, Pianist in Review
Weill Recital Hall at Carnegie Hall; New York, NY
May 9, 2011

Aglia Koras

Aglaia Koras devotes much of her performing to the music of Frederic Chopin, and on May 9th, she continued her passion for his music with some Nocturnes, Mazurkas and Etudes, among others. This concert, performed for a packed audience, was presented by MidAmerica Productions. Koras played with elegance–particularly in slower, more serene works, and she performed impressively from memory.

The C-sharp minor Nocturne, Op. Posth., which opened the program, was played exquisitely and poetically. The same could be said of the A minor Mazurka, Op. 67, No. 4 that followed. There was lovely shading and phrasing in both the Barcarolle in F-sharp major, Op. 60 and in the Nocturne in D-flat major, Op. 27, No. 2.

In the Fantaisie-Impromptu in C-sharp minor, Op. 66, Koras could have played more clearly in faster passages, but her devoted, stormy playing was captivating indeed.

In the Polonaise in A-flat Major, Op. 53 (“Heroic”), agitated passages were slightly rushed,

and phrases were sometimes muddied due to over-pedaling. Nonetheless, her audience was very enthusiastic–and so was I, as her eloquence comes across as very heartfelt indeed. A special Kudos to Koras for her insightful programming as well; the “Harp” Etude in A-flat, Op. 25, No. 1 and the “Cello” Etude in C-sharp minor, Op. 25, No. 7 lent an air of orchestration to the evening. Even though Chopin was hardly a symphonist (he is considered to have been a rather uneducated orchestrator), he seemed to enjoy incorporating instrumental sonorities–either consciously or subconsciously–into his piano works.

This season–according to biographical notes–Koras has been invited to perform with the St. Petersburg (Russia) Symphony Orchestra and to perform again with the Beethoven Festival Orchestra at the Kennedy Center Concert Hall. In recent seasons, she was invited to perform an all-Chopin recital in Mexico City and at the Wolf Trap Ball, among other appearances. Clearly, Chopin is in her blood, and audiences consistently fill Weill Recital Hall to hear her play his music.

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

Samuel Magill, cellist in Review

Samuel Magill, cellist in Review
Beth Levin, piano
Bruno Walter Auditorium
New York Public Library for the Performing Arts
Lincoln Center, New York, NY
May 7, 2011

Samuel Magill

Samuel Magill is a very fine cellist. His technique is solid and disciplined, his tone warm, sonorous and variable, his expressive projection direct and immediate. Trained at the Peabody Institute and Shepherd School of Music, his teachers included Zara Nelsova, Laurence Lesser and Irving Klein. A longtime member of New York’s great Metropolitan Opera Orchestra, Mr. Magill has been Principal Cellist of the New York Symphonic Ensemble, which featured him as soloist in many famous concertos; his Trio, the Elysian, won the 1997 Artist International Award. Mr. Magill has numerous critically acclaimed CDs to his credit, including the first recording of the Cello Concerto by Vernon Duke (Vladimir Dukelsky). His annual recitals at the Bruno Walter Auditorium, begun in 1994, always present a first performance and an unjustly neglected work of the 19th or early 20th centuries.

Mr. Magill’s excellent pianist at this concert was Beth Levin, renowned on stage and disc as recitalist, concerto soloist, chamber musician, and champion of contemporary composers. She made her debut with the Philadelphia Orchestra aged twelve and soon afterwards began to study with Rudolf Serkin at the Curtis Institute. Her subsequent teachers include Leonard Shure and Dorothy Taubman.

The program’s novelty was the world premiere of a new Sonata by Andrew Rudin (b.1939). A student of George Rochberg, he is renowned for his works for the stage and also as a pioneer in electronic and synthesizer music. He has taught at the Juilliard Graduate School, and for 37 years at the Philadelphia Music Academy. He retired in 2001, but continues to compose; the cello sonata was written last summer.

The work is very dramatic and seems to project an air of anguish and loss. The titles of its four movements vividly describe their emotional content: “Proclamation” begins with crashing piano chords answered by the cello; in “Rparteé” and “Discourse,” the instruments engage in agitated or conciliatory conversation, and “Consolation” is a mournful, resigned lament. Entering fully into these contrasting moods, the players gave an authoritative, moving performance, which was warmly received by the audience. The composer was present to share the applause.

The program’s rarity was the Cello Sonata in B minor Op. 27 by the French organist and composer Louis Vierne (1870-1937). A student of Charles Widor, he took over his mentor’s post as organist of Notre Dame Cathedral, and is remembered today chiefly for his organ symphonies and orchestral works. He must have possessed remarkable fortitude: born blind, he regained some sight as a child but lost it again in adulthood, and wrote his late compositions in Braille. He died, as he had wished, while playing the organ. The Cello Sonata is in three movements. A stately Introduction leads to an Allegro moderato; the middle movement is slow and expansive, the Finale fast and brilliant. Influenced by Cesar Franck’s style, the work is very lush and romantic; the players luxuriated in the sound, but kept the expressiveness from becoming sentimental.

The program also featured Beethoven’s Sonata in D major, Op. 102, No. 2, and Debussy’s Sonata in D minor. Playing with complete technical command, sensitive give-and take, and an unerring sense of style, the performers brought out the Debussy’s impressionistic color and whimsical humor, and the Beethoven’s classical austerity; even the counterpoint in the thorny Fugue came through clearly.

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

Lori Sims, Pianist in Review

Lori Sims, Pianist in Review
Zankel Hall at Carnegie Hall; New York, NY
May 7, 2011
 

Lori Sims

 

Pianist William Masselos (1920-1992) was honored in a most special way this past weekend, in a tribute piano recital by Lori Sims, presented by the organization Hausmusik. Widely recognized not only as a great pianist in diverse repertoire but as a particularly important champion of twentieth-century American piano music, Mr. Masselos is also fondly remembered by those of us who were at Juilliard during his tenure there as something of an unsung hero — despite his countless enviable achievements. One applauds Hausmusik for paying tribute and also for choosing Lori Sims, a pianist of prodigious abilities, to do so.

Each work on the program related in some way to William Masselos, at times in exact repertoire matches, notably Ben Weber’s Fantasia (Variations), and at other times through subtler connections, well-explained in the pianist’s thoughtful program notes. Rather than playing the “six degrees of separation” game, I prefer to focus on Ms. Sims, whose own personal connections to each work were evident from the first notes onward, and whose masterful readings obviated the need for any extraneous “raison d’etre.”

First off, Ms. Sims gave an extremely taut, precise, and intelligent performance of Copland’s Piano Variations. With an energy that suggested she was spring-loaded, she brought the work electricity and clarity. Nerves of steel are to be expected from a pianist who has won major competitions, including the Gina Bachauer 1998 Gold Medal, but hers are exceptional, unruffled even by the blaring of loud vocal music from some unknown source during her first entrance onstage. The intensity never let up, and Ben Weber’s Fantasia was another tour de force, this time exploiting the pianist’s gift for more romantic, lush sonorities.  What Ms. Sims likened to “Scriabin’s neurotic energy” seemed to abound, and one could only be astounded that after this Weber and the Copland, there were still three Griffes “Roman Sketches” and Barber’s monumental Piano Sonata yet to come (to complete an hour-long “first half”).

The Griffes pieces did provide some impressionistic relief from the musical tension, but only for the audience, as the pianistic demands simply shifted to a different kind of artistry. “The White Peacock” requires a special languid sensuality, and Ms. Sims brought it out to a tee. “The Fountain of Acqua Paola” needs streaming showers of delicacy, expertly colored, and it had just that. “Clouds” had no less mesmerizing an effect.

The Barber Sonata, showing not a trace of fatigue, was sure-fire. While it may not have been this listener’s all-time favorite performance of the work, it was an amazingly polished, assertive close to a first half of mammoth difficulty. Perhaps if one had to pinpoint a reservation about it, it would be that Ms. Sims has such a formidable technique that she made short work of some of its heroic climaxes. In the fourth movement Fugue especially, my favorite performances let loose with an almost ferocious abandon toward the close. Ms. Sims could perhaps be called “unostentatious” (as the honoree, Mr. Masselos, was described by Harold Schonberg), but one wanted to share in the sense of triumph and release that she had so richly earned.

The program’s second part was made up of Clara Schumann’s Romances, Op. 11, Nos. 1 and 3, and Robert Schumann’s Fantasy, Op. 17. These works showed great sensitivity, thoughtfulness, and fervor, and there were many moments of nearly transcendent beauty. Somehow, though, the truly indelible impression was made on this listener by the twentieth-century works. Ms. Sims showed that she has a rare gift for bringing audiences closer to these works, and it is a gift that should continue taking her to new musical heights.

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