New York Philharmonic

New York Philharmonic
Shanghai Symphony Orchestra
Central Park’s Great Lawn; New York
July 13, 2010
 
The Shanghai Symphony

The Shanghai Symphony Photo Credit by Chris Lee

 
 

In an outdoor concert threatened by rain, a New York Philharmonic Parks Concert featuring The Shanghai Symphony Orchestra went on as scheduled and drew thousands of New Yorkers. This important occasion marks the first time that another orchestra has shared a concert with the Philharmonic in Central Park. The Shanghai Symphony Orchestra, in an appearance that is helping to promote the World Expo in Shanghai, played the first half—(a reverse of the original plan because of the bad weather)—and played very well indeed. Certainly, the amplification has the ability to hide tonal deficiencies, but microphones cannot hide wrong notes, and there were hardly any blemishes to be found. In addition, the musicians played with immense energy under passionate conductor Long Yu.

Guang Zhao’s composition, “Ode to the Expo”, is a lovely, lush, Neo-Romantic work that served as a crowd-pleaser. The baritone Changyong Liao, singing Rossini’s “Largo al factotum della citta” from “The Barber of Seville”, was absolutely marvelous, and soprano Ying Huang was very appealing in “La ci darem la mano” from “Don Giovanni”. The Chinese piano soloist, Lang Lang–now a household name–transformed Gershwin’s famous “Rhapsody in Blue” into something rather foreign; I could hardly recognize the piece due to extreme exaggerations of tempo and dynamics. All in all, however, this New York Philharmonic venture—adding another orchestra to a concert—is a great idea and should be continued as much as possible. The large audience sprawled across the Great Lawn seemed excited; they even voted (via texting) for Lang Lang to play a Chinese piece as an encore.

The second half brought the New York Philharmonic to the stage, and one could instantly recognize the difference in the wind and brass brilliance and solidity of sound. There was more strength and tonal refinement in the strings as well. The guest conductor, Andrey Boreyko, conducted Tchaikovsky’s “Eugene Onegin” Polonaise with vigor, and the orchestra played with authority and finesse. Bernstein’s “West Side Story Dances” was another matter, however; because the Philharmonic knew the piece so much better than Maestro Boreyko (he seemed like he had never conducted it), he often stayed out of the way. That is good stylistically (the feel of the work came across authentically), but bad for ensemble because the orchestra needed technical clarity from Boreyko’s beat in tricky spots and didn’t get it. As a result, the orchestra was sometimes imprecise. Ravel’s “Bolero” suffered from early amplification issues such as microphone interference with squeaky high frequencies and warped dynamics. Eventually the problems subsided, but the orchestra lost its focus and went on automatic pilot—despite some fantastic solo playing. Because there were two orchestras and several soloists, there were many logistical issues to deal with. Ultimately, the Philharmonic and another guest orchestra could learn to maneuver through the obstacles. This type of concert is expensive and difficult, but a very worthwhile endeavor because—as many of us know—it has the power to bring people together.

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

New York Philharmonic

New York Philharmonic
Alan Gilbert, conductor
Christine Brewer, soprano; Jane Henschel, mezzo-soprano; Anthony Dean Griffey, tenor; Eric Owens, bass-baritone; New York Choral Artists: Joseph Flummerfelt, director
Avery Fisher Hall, New York, NY
June 26, 2010

 

Alan Gilbert

Alan Gilbert

Alan Gilbert’s first season as the New York Philharmonic’s Music Director ended as adventurously as it had begun, with a premiere commissioned for the occasion. Both were written by Magnus Lindberg, the Orchestra’s newly-installed Composer-in-Residence; the first was titled EXPO!, the second Al largo. The composer provides the best description of his own music: “Only the extreme is interesting. Striving for a balanced totality is now an impossibility….” In Al largo—(meaning “offshore”)—a big orchestra with a huge percussion section produces a great, joyful noise with many brass fanfares and a multitude of instrumental colors, but without any discernible form or structure.

The main work on the program was well suited to demonstrate Gilbert’s ambitious, wide-ranging plans for his orchestra, and to celebrate the successful close of his first season: Beethoven’s Missa solemnis, Op. 123, one of the greatest, most formidable works in the literature.

The Missa has a singular history. Begun in 1819, it was intended, in Beethoven’s words, “to contribute to the glorification of the day” when his friend and patron, Archduke Rudolph of Austria, was invested as Archbishop of Olmütz. However, the Missa was far from ready to be performed at the ceremony a year later; indeed, Beethoven wrestled with it longer than with any other composition. Not until 1823 did he consider it finished, having in the meantime written his last three piano sonatas, and worked on the “Diabelli” Variations and the Ninth Symphony.

This unusually long period of gestation and contemplation could not but affect the nature of the work. Alan Gilbert thinks that what makes it so difficult to understand and perform is, at least in part, the dichotomy between its sacred and secular elements. But one might also say that it is the music itself that baffles and overwhelms both listeners and performers. It shows Beethoven at his emotionally most profound, his spiritually most sublime, and his intellectually and technically most intractable. Everything is driven to excess: the extreme changes of mood and expression; the constant shifts of meter, tempo, and dynamics; the abrupt swings from lyricism to drama, and from humble pleading to heaven-storming ecstasy. If Beethoven had any weaknesses, they lay in his vocal writing and his counterpoint, and the Missa naturally abounds in both. As in the Ninth Symphony, chorus and soloists are driven into the stratosphere for unsustainably long stretches; the fugues – and there are many – are so complex that they seem to get tangled up like coils of barbed wire. At times, even Gilbert’s usually unfailing sense of balance and textural clarity was defeated by the dense, overloaded score.  No wonder the work is heard so rarely.

The Philharmonic’s performance must have been one of the best in recent memory. Orchestra and chorus, meticulously prepared, were precise, secure, and emotionally involved; among the vocal soloists, the soprano was outstanding; the rest were good, though not well matched: the bass and alto were too subdued, the tenor was too heroic. Concertmaster Glenn Dicterow played his big solo in the Benedictus brilliantly, but his tone was too unremittingly intense.

The concert’s real hero was Alan Gilbert. His beat, as always, was clear and decisive; his transitions and tempo changes were admirably smooth and organic; his mastery of this immensely complex score, from the smallest detail to its monumental over-all structure, was prodigious; he led his enormous forces with the natural authority born of a thorough knowledge and deeply felt love of the music.

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

New York Philharmonic

New York Philharmonic
Alan Gilbert, conductor
Håkan Hardenberger, trumpet
Avery Fisher Hall, New York, NY
June 19, 2010

Hakan Hardenberger

Håkan Hardenberger

For the Philharmonic’s penultimate program, Alan Gilbert chose Mozart, Wagner, and the New York premiere of Aerial (1998-99) by HK Gruber.

Mozart’s “Little” G minor Symphony was crisp, precise, and finely etched. The fast movements were moderately paced but lively, the Andante sang, yet the overall impression was cool and reserved; the drama and the emotional intensity seemed underplayed, the contrasts muted.

Heinz Karl Gruber, born in 1943 in Austria, studied various instruments and composition at the Vienna Music Academy after having been a member of the Vienna Choir Boys for four years. New Yorkers heard him some years ago at the “Berlin Lights Festival,” when he performed cabaret songs by Kurt Weill and Hanns Eisler as “chansonniere.” A prolific composer of vocal and instrumental music in many genres and contemporary styles, he wrote Aerial on commission from the BBC for the London Promenade Concerts. It is the first of three works composed for Hakan Hardenberger, the Philharmonic’s soloist at this concert. A spectacular trumpet player, he switched between muted and unmuted trumpet, piccolo trumpet and cow’s horn with dizzying frequency, producing an amazing variety of sounds, and easily competing with a large orchestra, which, after a hazy beginning, gradually built up to a jazzy, uninhibited dance. The music is supposed to evoke a vision of a barren earth-landscape seen from outer space, an imaginative but literally and figuratively “far-out” notion.

Both Wagner‘s personal and creative life were marked by controversy and turbulence, so it may be worth noting that both works on this program – the Siegfried Idyll and the Prelude and Liebestod from “Tristan und Isolde” – were inspired by significant – and notorious – relationships. The Idyll was written in 1870 as a birthday present for his wife Cosima, and also to celebrate their wedding shortly before (following a seven-year liaison while both had other spouses), and the birth of their youngest child, Siegfried, in 1869 (they had three children before they married and none afterwards.)

Wagner wrote his opera “Tristan und Isolde” in 1858-59 while living in exile in Switzerland with his first wife. In dire financial straits, they were supported by Otto Wesendonk, a wealthy admirer; Wagner repaid his generosity by engaging in a passionate relationship with his wife, Mathilde, remembered today mainly for having written the texts of the so-called “Wesendonk Songs,” five steamy poems which Wagner set to properly lush music as an “exercise” for Tristan.

The Idyll was premiered by 15 musicians at the Wagners’ house as a birthday serenade; using mostly single winds and no percussion, it is his only lightly scored composition. (The Philharmonic’s performance was almost too intimate and so subdued that some parts were barely audible.) The Tristan excerpts, in contrast, with a full complement of brass and percussion, are among his most luxurious works. The Liebestod is also one of his most famous soprano arias; Wagner made an orchestral version so that it could be performed in concert. He succeeded in recreating its melodic richness, harmonic elusiveness and textural density, but some lovers of the opera still find it hard to accept Isolde’s death without Isolde.

One of Alan Gilbert’s most admirable strengths is his ability to create transparency and to bring out important voices without seeming to suppress the rest. This showed most impressively in the “Tristan” excerpts. Gilbert preserved the lush sonority and sensuousness, the kaleidoscopic color, the undulating texture, but the lines were so carefully balanced that every melodic strand and every harmonic twist stood out.

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

Live from the MET: Simone Boccanegra

Live from the MET : “Simone Boccanegra”
James Levine, conductor
Placido Domingo, baritone, as Simone Boccanegra 
Adrianne Pieczonka, soprano, as Amelia
Marcello Giordani, tenor, as Gabriele Adorno  
James Morris, bass-baritone, as Jacopo Fiesco
Metropolitan Opera, New York, NY
PBS Telecast
June 20, 2010

Placido Domingo - Photo Credit Brent Ness -

All New York’s music lovers, especially those with difficulties getting around, owe a debt of gratitude to Channel 13 for its “Live from Lincoln Center” series: these telecasts are the closest they can get to the concerts and operas they love. The latest “Live from the MET” telecast, taped in February and broadcast on June 20th, presented the new production of Verdi’s “Simone Boccanegra” with Placido Domingo making his debut as a baritone in the title role. Audience expectations ran high, though Domingo has often mentioned that his vocal roots are in the middle register and blossomed into the upper one later. Indeed his voice has always had a remarkably warm, baritonal quality, and, since voices tend to darken with age, he is perhaps merely encouraging a natural vocal development. Nevertheless, after a lifetime as one of the world’s most beloved tenors, taking such a drastic step requires extraordinary courage, and its stunning success makes it an extraordinary achievement.   

Domingo’s decision to undertake his first foray into new territory in this vocally and emotionally challenging, complex role was daring but understandable. As Boccanegra, he has moved from portraying an impulsive, young, romantic tenor (like Gabriele Adorno in “Boccanegra”) to a historical character of his own age and maturity. The real Boccanegra was a famous pirate who was twice elected Doge of Genoa; in the opera, he grows from a frustrated lover determined to prove himself a worthy suitor, to an enlightened statesman determined to bring peace and justice to his people.  

Adrianne Pieczonka, Placido Domingo and Marcello Giordani - Photo Credit Brent Ness

Verdi wrote “Boccanegra” in 1857; it was a failure: audiences found Piave’s libretto confusing, and the long recitatives boring. In 1881, Verdi revised it, like many of his operas; with a lot of new music and a new text by Boito, it was a resounding success, though the libretto still had weaknesses: the characters’ actions and reactions remained baffling and unbelievable, and events predating the drama were sketched so cursorily that audiences cannot possibly grasp them. 

  

The opera takes place in 14th-century Genoa against a background of convoluted political and personal conflicts that generate misunderstandings, belated revelations and eventual tragedy. But Verdi was less interested in affairs of state than affairs of the heart, and dramatized the characters’ relationships with wonderful duets – not only between soprano and tenor in the obligatory love-duets, but also between basses and baritones in confrontations and reconciliations.  

 This is a dark opera, dramatically, visually and musically. After an orchestral prelude, played primarily by the lowest strings and winds, the curtain rises on two basses hatching a plot at night. Fiesco, the leading bass, enters, lamenting his daughter’s death. Then Boccanegra, her lover and the father of their illegitimate child, appears; Fiesco hates him, and, in a passionate duet, rebuffs his plea to resolve their enmity. Fast forward 25 years. Boccanegra discovers his long-lost daughter, Amelia; they rejoice, but he inexplicably insists on keeping their relationship secret; soon after, he learns that she loves Adorno, his political enemy. The central scene is set in the Council Chamber. The Doge is trying to persuade the fractious nobles and plebeians to make peace with each other and with Venice; when a riot breaks out in the street, he quells it by sheer force of personality. Meanwhile, Paolo, a vengeful courtier, pours poison into Boccanegra’s water-jug, initiating what must be one of the longest operatic death-scenes: after staggering around (and frequently falling) while singing incredibly difficult music, Boccanegra finally makes peace with Fiesco in another great duet.  

The production, conducted by James Levine, is most impressive—visually and musically: the scenery is simple and evocative, the orchestra is splendid as usual, though sometimes too subdued when accompanying the singers; the cast is strong. Verdi did not make things easy for the singers: several start off with a big, demanding aria, requiring some warming up. Adrianne Pieczonka is a beautiful but vocally uneven Amelia; James Morris, in excellent voice, is a majestic Fiesco, Stefan Gaertner a baleful Paolo. Marcello Giordani’s Adorno is heroic in more ways than one: it must take courage to share the stage with the singer who owned your role, yet he seemed inspired rather than intimidated. But it was Domingo who, in the best sense, dominated the stage. He inhabited his part completely, radiating a natural authority that seemed to make everyone more confident and secure. Though his top notes are understandably superior to his low ones, his voice is as focused, expressive and intense as ever. Rarely has there been a more triumphant debut.  

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

Long Island Philharmonic

David Stewart Wiley, conductor
Joseph Kalichstein, piano
Tilles Center for the Performing Arts, New York
June 19, 2010
Long Island Philharmonic

Long Island Philharmonic

The Long Island Philharmonic has had four Music Directors since its founding in 1979, but none of them has been as effective at communicating intimate, nuanced music with the audience as David Stewart Wiley. Its Music Director for almost ten years, Mr. Wiley enjoys speaking to the audience before many of the pieces the orchestra performs, and those in attendance clearly enjoy it, benefitting from musical examples that accompany that talk because they get a preview—much like a movie trailer—and know what details to listen for. And the Long Island audience needs this added familiarity more than in a major city, where a Mozart symphony isn’t exactly a foreign affair.

Before the performance of Mozart’s Symphony No. 39, Wiley interestingly noted that the first movement may be the first time the waltz (opposed to the Minuet) was incorporated into a symphony. He also rightly mentions the countryside, folk aspect to the symphony as a whole. And that inspires an analogy: Mozart brings the countryside to the symphony, and the Long Island Philharmonic brings the symphony to the countryside, enriching the musical experiences of thousands of Long Islanders, who do not have to leave the suburbs in order to hear great music—or great music-making. Perhaps—quite fittingly—the suburbs of Long Island are the perfect place to hear intimate music.

The performance of the 39th Symphony was indeed given a polished, sparkling and elegant account. The sound of the orchestra is in terrific shape, with special mention going to the solo clarinet and the French Horns for handling difficult moments with effortlessness and beauty. In Beethoven’s Fourth Piano Concerto, excellent pianist Joseph Kalichstein, who often modestly collaborated like he was one of many solo instruments within the orchestra rather than the main soloist, nonetheless gave the kind of briskly-paced performances—in the outer movements—that didn’t always mesh with the ensemble behind him. Still, it was impressively played on both technical and musical fronts, with the slow movement the undeniable highlight, as its darkly solemn and sublime moments were performed with tremendous conviction.

In Bartok’s Romanian Dances, which opened the program, the clarinet solos were playfully and endearingly shaped. The Piccolo solo was played with great sensitivity, creating the character of a wandering, lost soul. Wiley set the mood before each dance and achieved deeply committed performances from the players. The first violin section played with unity of movement—often using their bows fully, from the lower part of the bow (the ‘frog’) to the very tip, which can be a rarity for orchestras.

The intimate musical repertory the Long Island Philharmonic explores is sorely needed, as many orchestras concentrate on the more ostentatiously grand symphonic music and stay away from the more delicate gems. Yet Long Island audiences appreciate the nuances of this delightful music because David Stewart Wiley allows his audiences to savor it all—during the performance, but also before it.

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

Distinguished Concerts International New York (DCINY)

Distinguished Concerts International New York (DCINY)
Paradise Lost: Shadows and Wings
Music by Eric Whitacre
Stern Auditorium at Carnegie Hall, New York, NY
June 15, 2010
Paradise Lost: Shadows and Wings

Paradise Lost: Shadows and Wings

 
 

At the New York premiere of the musical “Paradise Lost: Shadows and Wings” by Eric Whitacre and David Norona, and presented by Distinguished Concerts International New York (DCINY), a chorus of 425 people conducted by Whitacre gathered on stage to replace the typical staging and action.  Aged 14 to 73-years-old, the chorus produced glorious, powerful sounds, and they were well-blended, singing with excellent intonation and diction. They stood proudly the entire 80 minutes without intermission—which was astounding since they didn’t sing all that much—and the full-house audience also stood proudly after the performance, cheering loudly. To accompany the singers, there were synthesizers, the two talented Taiko drummers from the On Ensemble, and the fabulous cellist Fang Fang Xu.

The music of “Paradise Lost: Shadows and Wings” is comprised of some familiar melodies—two moments were seemingly inspired by Valjean’s “Bring Him Home” from “Les Miserables” and the eerie part of “Johanna” from “Sweeney Todd”—ritualistic, electrifying  percussion (although the wind chimes were overused), and some fascinating use of harmony. The choral and vocal ensemble-writing was fairly straight-forward, except that there was very skilled use of counterpoint in an Act II trio and in an Act I Quintet, which brought to mind the intricacies of Bizet’s Quintet in Act II of “Carmen”. The acting, obviously limited to the space in front of the microphones, was nevertheless very convincing. And the solo singing, particularly that of soprano Hila Plitmann, was stellar.

This Edward Esch story, which contains scenes of martial arts combat, is timely; the remake of the Karate Kid is doing well at the box office, and the second Kung Fu Panda film is due next summer—sure to be another hit. Seeing this tease of a production did make me dream about what a fully staged production would be like. The characters and their conversational interplay were interesting, and seeing them move on stage with that playful dialogue—as well as watching the combat scenes—would be a lot of fun. The narration here was crucial, but sometimes it was too obvious, such as: “(they) embrace”, followed by a hug. Seeing a concert version of “Paradise Lost: Shadows and Wings” was about as frustrating as seeing a concert version of “West Side Story”, but it was a prelude to a potentially fantastic evening at the theater.

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

Distinguished Concerts International New York (DCINY)

DCINY Spirit Journey: The Journey from Africa to America
The Lincoln Gospel Choir; Swingsations Jazz Choir
Darcy Reese, Conductor
Robert Robinson and the Twin Cities Gospel Choir
Patricia Brown, Choreographer; Ahanti Young, Drummer
The Allen Room, Frederick P. Rose Hall; Jazz at Lincoln Center; New York, NY
June 18, 2010
Spirit Journey

The Spirit Journey

In a concert presented by Distinguished Concerts International New York (DCINY) and dedicated to the memory of the great Gospel scholar Dr. Horace Clarence Boyer (1935-2009), the excellent choral conductor, Darcy Reese, led the Lincoln Gospel Choir and Swingsations Jazz Choir, along with the Twin Cities Gospel Choir and their amazing vocalist, Robert Robinson, in engaging, moving and beautifully prepared performances of stylistically versatile works that told the evolution of Africans during the last 400 years. Normally, this type of evening might be held on Martin Luther King Day, but this story of wrong-doing, struggle and freedom could be told any time of year—and often. And normally, a choir of African-American descent might present this program, but here, the choruses were from Minnesota, an all-Caucasian group that took on the responsibility of the historical significance of this event and the demands of singing in authentic African, Jazz, Blues and Gospel styles. To say they were successful would be an understatement. And they brought down the packed house at Lincoln Center. The students in the choir, who sang from memory, are high school-age, yet their collective voices, commitment and choreography (Patricia Brown, director) were presented at a high, professional level. All the professional instrumentalists, mostly comprised of drummers led by Ahanti Young, were terrific as well.

In Otieno’s arrangement of “Sigalagala” and Marsh’s arrangement of “Ain’t Too Proud to Beg”, Zach Bauer, a young singer in the chorus, was excellent, singing first in authentic African dialect and later in a convincing Soul/R&B style. The Choreography of five dancers at the beginning of the evening was interesting, but the dancing talent among the students was not the concert’s sure-fire strength. In “Denko”, Hailey Bayne sang with a lovely voice. In Barnwell’s Spirituals, Robert Robinson was the epitome of heartfelt emotion. David Stenson’s tone was a bit shaky in his portrayal of Dell’s “Nobody Knows the Trouble I See”, but singing after Robinson is a very tough act to follow. Becca Kruta and Brenna Skallet (from the chorus) sang “Way Beyond the Blue” with great confidence and spirit, although the harmonizations were slightly off pitch. “Hold On” was sung with a unified sense of diction, swing and phrasing, especially with the word ‘everything’ in “everything will be all right”, which had snazzy zip in the fast-rising crescendo on the first two syllables and the punchy staccato on the third syllable. “I Wanna Die Easy When I Die” was sung absolutely gloriously by Robinson and the choir, which swayed with deep devotion. The Twin Cities Gospel Choir is a force to be reckoned with. The Saxophonist Kathy Jensen was excellent throughout.

“Great Day” and “If I had a Hammer”, performed back-to-back, were tied in to the Civil War of the 1860’s and the Civil Rights Movement of the 1950s, incorporating Jazz and Blues. A characterization of Rosa Parks was fitting but a bit jarring after mention of the 1860s. “I’ll be Alright” and “We Shall Overcome” were sung with great Gospel feeling. Gershwin’s Piano Prelude, which followed the bit of narration: “…but they had their jazz” doesn’t work because Gershwin wasn’t exactly African American;  for the sake of the program, it would have been better to have talented young pianist Brianna Drevlow (from the chorus) learn some Art Tatum or a Duke Ellington arrangement instead. The Gershwin, in any case, was played with impressive flair— albeit too much hurry. Ahanti Young was the marvelous vocal percussionist (a la Bobby McFerrin) in Marsh’s arrangement of “Don’t You Worry ‘bout a Thing” against a cappella chorus that was only off pitch a few times.

In the final section, in which the presence of Gospel scholar, Dr. Boyer, was truly felt, and in which the audience was invited to participate, every successive number—complete with clapping and choreographed choral movement– sounded like it couldn’t be topped, but it was. “Do You Know the Light”, with its rapid-fire, layered entrances were infectious and intoxicating, drawing to mind some of the dizzying scenes in the film “The Blues Brothers.” But this was more than spectacle; these young kids from Minnesota somehow had an innate, profound understanding of the history of Africans and African Americans, and that devotion always transmitted to the audience with great poignancy. This chorus and these soloists sang with chemistry and conviction all the way through this marathon program of two and a half hours (without intermission). That of course is the least they could do, considering how much Africans and African Americans have had to endure throughout history. This presentation, which should be repeated as much as possible, has the ability to be as timeless or important as the novel “To Kill a Mockingbird” or the Spielberg film “Amistad.” Everyone on stage seemed very proud of non-existing prejudice, a prejudice that seems to have finally disappeared during this time of the first African-American presidency, four hundred years after slavery began.

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

The Ansonia Trio

The Ansonia Trio
Angelia Cho, violin
Laura Metcalf,  cello
Andrea Lam, piano
Bechstein Artist Series at Bechstein Piano, New York, NY
June 11, 2010

 

Ansonia Trio

Ansonia Trio

A relative newcomer to the chamber music scene, the Ansonia Trio was formed in 2009, and won the Grand Prize of the Daniel Rutenberg Chamber Music Competition the same year. The Trio made its New York debut at the New York House Concert series, has performed in various venues in and around New York, and participated in the Prussia Cove Festival in England.

Violinist Agelia Cho received her Bachelor of Music degree at the Curtis institute under the late Jascha Brodsky and Ida Kavafian, and her Master’s degree at the New England Conservatory of Music under Donald Weilerstein. She has won wide recognition as soloist, recitalist and chamber musician.

Cellist Laura Metcalf received her Master of Music degree at the Manes College of Music, studying with Timothy Eddy, and, upon graduation, was honored with the James E. Hughes award for excellence in performance. In addition to being active as soloist and teacher, she is a member of various chamber groups, such as the Tarab Cello Ensemble, a group of eight cellists with whom she has performed and recorded. She is assistant principal of the Chamber Orchestra of New York.

Australian pianist Andrea Lam studied with Boris Berman at the Yale School of Music, where she won the Woolsey Hall Competition, and with Arkady Aronov at the Manhattan School of Music, where she won the Roy M. Rubinstein Award. She was a semi-finalist in the 2009 Van Cliburn Competition, and has performed and recorded concertos with Australian orchestras and chamber music with the Takacs Quartet. She was featured at the 1999 and 2000 Sidney Festivals, playing for audiences of 180,000.

The Ansonia players say their goal is to “present programs that engage and inspire modern audiences.” The June 11 concert – their final one of this season – featured two romantic repertory favorites, Mendelssohn’s D-minor Trio Op. 49, and Brahms’ C-major Trio Op. 87, and two of Piazzolla’s “Four Seasons of Buenos Aires.”

The Trio is clearly a fine, very promising group; only a year after its formation, the strings’ intonation is excellent, the players’ phrasing, dynamics and expression are unanimous, their ensemble and rapport – complete with approving looks and smiles – are close; they obviously enjoy their companionship and collaboration.

 
Technically, they were more than equal to the music’s demands, negotiating Mendelssohn’s brilliant writing with easy facility; indeed, the Scherzo, though not too fast for their fleet fingers, was too fast for human ears. They projected the work’s ardent romanticism without excess or sentimentality, capturing the dark, ominous tension of its corner movements and the calm serenity of the second. The Brahms was carefully paced, austere but expressive; the first movement’s tempo changes were smooth and organic. They made Piazzolla’s idiom sound as natural as their native language.

 
The concert’s only flaw was the balance. The intimate Bechstein auditorium is just right for chamber music, but the piano, a vintage concert grand, is much too big and loud for the space and the music. When kept wide open, even the most careful, well-intentioned pianist cannot help sometimes overpowering the strings. The late great cellist and teacher Felix Salmon, exhorting the string players in his student groups, used to say: “Just look at its size!”

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

New York Philharmonic

New York Philharmonic
Alan Gilbert, conductor
Lisa Batiashvili, violin
Avery Fisher Hall, New York, NY
June 12, 2010
Alan Gilbert

Alan Gilbert

This concert was the first of three to be conducted by Alan Gilbert this month to conclude his opening season as Music Director of the New York Philharmonic. His adventurous, imaginative programming has brought us more contemporary works than have been heard here for many years. One of the most prominently featured composers was Magnus Lindberg (b. 1958) from Finland, whom Gilbert installed as the Philharmonic’s Composer-in-Residence. Indeed, the current season opened with one of Lindberg’s works, EXPO, and this program began with the Philharmonic premiere of another, Arena for Orchestra. Commissioned to write the required test work for the first Sibelius Conductors’ Competition in 1995, Lindberg deliberately made it an obstacle course for the conductor, with frequent tempo and meter changes and drastic textural and dynamic contrasts. Scored for an enormous orchestra whose percussion section uses every known and some unknown instruments, it begins in a sonic haze, but soon erupts into brass fanfares; occasionally something resembling a melody tries to emerge, but is immediately driven away by the next outburst of brass and percussion. Gilbert has performed the work many times and conducted it with confidence and authority; the Philharmonic negotiated all the hurdles with admirable aplomb. The composer was present to share the applause.

The program’s soloist was the phenomenal young Georgian violinist, Lisa Batiashvili, in the Sibelius Concerto. It has become her signature piece since, aged 16, she won second prize as the youngest-ever competitor at the 1995 Sibelius Competition. After that, her career on stage and recording became meteoric, and no wonder. She has the flair of a virtuoso without the flourishes and mannerisms. Her technique is dazzling, but she never calls attention to it, making the most hair-raising fireworks seem as easy as breathing, blithely taking risks with supreme confidence. Her tone, enhanced by a famous Stradivarius violin, is gorgeous, capable of infinite variations of color, nuance and intensity. Best of all, her playing is expressive but never exaggerated or fussy, and her stage presence, too, is simple and natural. From the Concerto’s icy, misty beginning, the stormy climaxes built up organically; the slow movement was all inward tenderness, the Finale all driving, rocking energy. 

Lisa Batiashvili

Lisa Batiashvili

The program ended with Brahms’ Second Symphony in a lovely performance that balanced dignity with exuberance, warmth with austerity, repose with excitement. The orchestra played splendidly.  

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

The European String Quartet Tradition in America:The Henschel, Kuss, Orion and American in Performance

June, 2010; New York, NY
The American String Quartet

The American String Quartet

Central Europe has always been regarded as the cradle of the classical chamber music performance tradition. Its basic elements were inner involvement, outward restraint, respect for the composer’s style and intentions, and observance of the letter and spirit of the score. In America, the seeds of such a tradition were planted comparatively recently, but flowered in a dazzling proliferation of string quartets much sooner than anyone expected. This was aided in part by the immigration of a large number of European quartets, such as the Galimir, Busch, Budapest, Kolisch, and Pro Arte, who passed their knowledge, experience, and dedication to living composers on to a younger generation of musicians. These have now become the guardians of the venerable old tradition, while their European counterparts seem to have cut themselves off from their roots and moved in an entirely different direction. This was illustrated by recent concerts of four quartets: two German and two American.

Formed in 1994, the Henschel Quartet is a family affair: its players are violinists Christoph and Markus Henschel, violist Monika Henschel-Schwind, and cellist Mathias Beyer-Karlshoj; the Kuss Quartet’s players are violinists Jana Kuss and Oliver Wille, violist William Coleman, and cellist Mikayel Hakhnazaryan. Both groups have won prestigious international prizes and perform in concerts and festivals world-wide. The Henschel was invited to play Haydn’s “Seven Last Words” for the Pope last March.

Technically, both groups are equal to every challenge; their intonation and ensemble are impeccable, their phrasing and dynamics unanimous, their tone is vibrant and intense. Musically, they overdo everything; emphasizing contrast, speed, energy and drive, they lack repose and inwardness, so perhaps it is natural that they showed more affinity for the contemporary works on their programs than for the classical and romantic ones. Indeed, the Kuss’ players say they have “given much thought on how to restore the string quartet to where it once stood at the cutting edge of cultural and compositional life.”

The Henschel’s playing is extroverted, aggressive, over-projected, powerful, often harsh in sound, with stark contrasts and great liberties taken; sometimes every measure had a different tempo, and rhythms were wildly distorted. The cellist is unusually strong, and the first violinist is clearly the “boss,” leading ostentatiously and missing no chance to display his virtuosity. At its April 11 concert, a late Haydn quartet lost its elegance, humor and graciousness, and the whimsical, waltz-like Trio became a showpiece for the first violin. Schumann’s Quartet No. 1 was long on forcefulness, short on poetic intimacy, ardor and tenderness. In contrast, the Adagio of Barber’s Quartet Op. 11 sounded rich and lyrical, and Erwin Schulhoff’s Quartet of 1924 was riveting. Born in Prague in 1894, Schulhoff perished in a Nazi concentration camp in 1942, but though the quartet was written long before the Germans invaded his country, it has a dark, foreboding, grotesque quality, which the Henschel brought vividly to life. The Kuss’ style is less assertive and willful and more democratic than the Henschel’s. Yet at its April 9 concert, the playing, while efficient and polished, was a bit superficial. Tempi were too fast to capture the grace and expressiveness of Mozart’s “Hunt,” or the good humor and passion of Brahms’ Quartet No. 3. It was the performance of Alban Berg’s Quartet Op. 3 that was most persuasive. The players projected the work’s urgency, intensity and lyricism, and, despite its dense texture, brought out the themes, lines and voices.

The American String Quartet (Peter Winograd and Laurie Carney, violinists, Daniel Avshalomov, violist, Wolfram Koessel, cellist) was formed in 1974; the Orion Quartet (Daniel and Todd Philips, brothers and alternating violinists, Steven Tenenbom, violist, Timothy Eddy, cellist) in 1987. Both embody the essential traditional qualities of quartet-playing: tonal beauty, technical control without showiness, expressiveness without excess, and projection tempered with intimacy. They are equally at home in the standard literature and the works of living composers; the American has commissioned, premiered and recorded quartets by Richard Danielpour, Kenneth Fuchs, and Curt Cacioppo, the Orion quartets by Leon Kirchner, Wynton Marsalis and John Harbison, among many others. Both groups also continue another important tradition: they train future chamber musicians through residencies in colleges, conservatories and festivals.

The Orion’s concert on April 18 included Brahms’ Piano Quintet with Peter Serkin, Beethoven’s “Harp” Quartet, and a work written for the group: Kirchner’s Quartet No. 4. The players’ style is distinguished by its warmth, expressiveness, fraternal ensemble and tonal and emotional balance. Their immersion in the Beethoven Quartets began with a series of free concerts for the Millenium, and includes a recording of the cycle. Serkin has played the Brahms with many great quartets; he fitted into the ensemble with uncanny unanimity, and never overpowered the strings – an extraordinary feat.

The American’s program on May 1 began and ended with late Schubert: the Quartettsatz in C minor and the great G major Quartet, flanking Berg’s Quartet Op. 3 and Webern’s Five Movements Op. 5. The performances were beautiful, as always: technically flawless, tonally vibrant, involved and concentrated.
The European string quartet tradition is in good hands – in America

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