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

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

Ivan Ženatý, violin; Photo: Tomáš Lébr

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

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

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

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

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

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Seunghee Lee, Pianist in Review

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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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.

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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!

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Park Avenue Chamber Symphony in Review

Park Avenue Chamber Symphony
David Bernard, Conductor
Terry Eder, Piano
All Saints Church, New York
October 28, 2012

David Bernard conducting the Park Avenue Chamber Symphony

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.

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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

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Kyung-Hye Baek in Review

 Kyung-Hye Baek, piano
Weill Hall at Carnegie Hall, New York
October 15, 2012 
 
Kyung-Hye Baek

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.

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Kent Sangster’s Obsessions Octet in Review

Kent Sangster’s Obsessions Octet
Presented by MidAmerica Productions
Weill Recital Hall at Carnegie Hall
October 6, 2012
 

Kent Sangster’s Obsessions Octet

 

Kent Sangster’s Obsessions Octet gave us a lot to obsess about during the concert—mainly how good they are. Sangster is an excellent saxophonist, and moreover, the group he assembled performed with both an infectious energy and a spicy rhythmical precision throughout the evening. The hall was jam-packed. At one point, Sangster told the audience that the concert was a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. One certainly hopes not, and that they appear in Weill Hall (or Zankel Hall) at Carnegie–and certainly in New York—more often.

The compositions crossed over from Jazz to Latin music to Classical, and each piece had its own appeal. There was a great deal of variety on the program: from Piazzolla to Cole Porter to excellent new material from Allan Gilliland and Sangster himself. Piazzolla’s “Oblivion”, “Melodia in A Minor”, “Preludio 9” and “Fuga 9” are in a class by themselves. These are also virtuosic pieces, and the intricacies of the off beats were handled with confidence and finesse.

A string quartet comprised of violinists Joanna Ciapka-Sangster and Neda Yamach, violist Rhonda Henshaw, and cellist Ronda Metszies swayed together with a unity of coordination and passion. Bassist Jeff Johnson and drummer Jamie Cooper were rock-solid, and pianist Chris Andrew has plenty of chops, but he also displayed a good deal of sensitivity.

Sangster performed with both warmth of expression and a suave detachment when needed. He played each of his saxophones with its own unique expressive voice and showed a very impressive technique to boot. A prominent member of Canada’s jazz scene for almost twenty years, Sangster and the group are based in Edmonton. He has released five original jazz albums; his CD “Melodia”, the second recording by the octet, was nominated for a 2010 Western Canadian Music Award for Best Jazz Recording.

Sangster is a full-time faculty member at Grant MacEwan University and the Executive Director and Producer of the Edmonton International Jazz Festival. There are plans for an Obsessions Octet tour to Europe; international—as well as national—exposure is what this group deserves to have.

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The Schulman-Zito Duo in Review

The Schulman-Zito Duo
Louise Schulman, viola; Bill Zito, guitar
An Italian in Vienna- Duos by Mauro Giuliani
WMP Concert Hall, New York, New York
August 21, 2012

Violist Louise Schulman and Guitarist Bill Zito, both critically acclaimed musicians as soloists, joined forces in 2001. The Schulman-Zito duo has taken advantage of the unique timbres of their respective instruments to produce a very rich and singing combined sound. They have made the duos of the Italian composer Mauro Giuliani a particular specialty of their collaboration, having recorded four duos on their Compact Disc “An Italian in Vienna- Duos by Mauro Giuliani” (Sono Luminus DSL-92138 –http://www.naxos.com/catalogue/item.asp?item_code=DSL-92138).

Mauro Giuliani (1781-1829) was considered one of the leading guitar virtuosi of his time. Giuliani counted among his friends and colleagues Beethoven (who called him “the divine Giuliani”) and Rossini. Composer of over 150 guitar works that now are considered the core of the 19th century guitar repertoire, he also wrote three guitar concerti and numerous duos for Guitar-Violin and Guitar-Flute. Naturally, the viola was used in place of the violin for this program.

The WMP Concert Hall was the perfect venue for this music. The intimate setting had the feel and look of the 19th century salon, complete with writing desk adorned with a framed portrait on the stage. One could easily imagine being transported back in time hearing Giuliani himself playing his own works for his admirers.

From the opening notes of the Serenade in G major, Opus 127, it was immediately apparent that Ms. Schulman and Mr. Zito have a special rapport, something that is missing from many duos. Played with great sensitivity and delicate balance, the interplay of the melodic material was projected seamlessly and with sparkling clarity. It takes great ability to make what is deceptively complex sound effortless and organic- Ms. Schulman and Mr. Zito have this in abundance. Indeed, this was a recurring theme throughout the entire performance. A humorous moment took place at the end of the third movement, when the audience began to applaud as if the work had been completed. After the applause had faded, Ms. Schulman smiled and said to the audience, “I always think that is the end too!” The duo then played the final movement and finished in fine style.

The Grand Duo Concertante in A major, Opus 85, is another example of Giuliani’s seemingly endless melodic inventiveness. Using a favorite harmonic modulation of his countryman Rossini, this “Viennese” work has an undeniably Italian flavor. Ms. Schulman continued her display of mastery of the material in an unpretentious and restrained fashion. The lovely opening of the second movement, which in the hands of a lesser player could have sounded hackneyed, was played by Mr. Zito with breathtaking beauty. It did seem that some phrases were hurried and cut a bit short (especially in the first movement), but each instance took place at a page turn, a minor quibble that could be easily remedied.

The second half began with the Grand Overture for Solo Guitar, Opus 61. This work gives the modern listener an idea of Giuliani’s brilliance as a performer. Filled with virtuosic flair, this work requires a player with tremendous technique to navigate its many challenges. Mr. Zito gave a confident and inspired performance. It was striking how easy he made it all seem. Ending the concert with the Grande Serenade in D major, Opus 82, afforded yet another opportunity for this duo to demonstrate their excellence. The appreciative audience gave the performers extended and well-deserved applause at the performance’s end.

The Schulman-Zito duo has done honor to Mauro Giuliani by their first-rate performances. I hope they continue to explore the repertoire and delight audiences with their musical gifts.

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CD in Review- Sophia Agranovich, piano

Liszt: Un Sospiro; La Campanella (arr. Busoni);
Rhapsodie Espagnole; Sonata in B Minor
Sophia Agranovich, piano
Armonioso ($25.24)
www.sophiagranovich.com
61 minutes
Engineer: Sean Swinney
Recording Dates: October 13 and 22, 2011

Sophia Agranovich

Franz Liszt needs few plugs to keep his name alive. Arguably the most comprehensive virtuoso performer, composer, charismatic stage personality, career strategist, and altruistic pedagogue to have shared our planet, Liszt the pianist represents the historical development of our genre, and a bit of him persists in the daily keyboard regimen of each of us whether we like to pay tribute to him or not. Tribute is paid, however, with full-scale explanation of the artist’s pedagogical pedigree for those willing to read the fine print, by the Ukrainian pianist Sophia Agranovich in her 2011 Liszt bicentennial CD, self-released on the Armonioso label. (There is no identifying number on the cover or spine.)

The CD’s packaging states: “Recorded on Franz Liszt’s birthday, this dedication to his Bicentennial features his most profound and virtuosic compositions.” Ms. Agranovich chooses conservatively from the plethora of possible recitals, opting for the tried-and-true “Un Sospiro” and B-Minor Sonata, with additional vorspeisen including the “Rhapsodie Espagnole” and piano transcription of Paganini’s violin caprice “La Campanella.” The latter is heard not in Liszt’s most virtuosic edition but in Busoni’s re-transcription.

Requisite athleticism notwithstanding, Ms. Agranovich displays finesse in the recurrent, introspective sighs of high treble filigree and chromatic runs throughout her program (she might have considered “Un Sospiro” a befitting title for the release). Coy pacing in the “Follia” variations of the “Spanish Rhapsody” and crisp articulation in the Sonata add supportive touches to her ardent portrayal of the sentimental-irascible “soul divided against itself.” To be sure, Ms. Agranovich possesses capable hands, facility, and authentic schooling, as documented, and her affinity for double notes and octaves takes us through landscapes of occasionally cautious, sometimes all-out exciting, and predominantly incident-free Liszt. At the far end of the spectrum, however, Ms. Agranovich’s instincts have led her to intersperse sour chords in moments of climactic import (homage to the one-take masters?) as well as extravagantly distorted phrases which give fresh meaning to the concept of rhetoric. “La Campanella” never loses itself in zigeuner-caprice but does lose pulse and thunder in a veritable collage of outtakes. Not working in the pianist’s favor is a studio sound deprived of nine-foot bass resonance. The curiously boxy quality necessitates sweep and strength from the performer for satisfactory fulfillment of Liszt’s larger-than-life message, and Ms. Agranovich’s transcendental attitude does help her break even, yet the volume controls still need adjustment mid-Sonata to avoid obscuring the end of the piece altogether. This recording could use some attention in order to be made suitable for broadcast, but the attention should probably include a few more tries at difficult passages.

Is the chaff inseparable from the wheat by design? One can see the exhilarated artist rushing to complete a marathon production on Liszt’s special day, cutting corners for expediency, budget rapidly dwindling with the setting sun. Recordings do outlive their occasions, and an overdue commemoration with a producer (and copy editor) on board would have been preferable to a flawed, prematurely delivered one. Ms. Agranovich deserves a more strategic spotlight.

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