Reflections of Life (DCINY), in Review

DISTINGUISHED CONCERTS INTERNATIONAL NEW YORK: DCINY
REFLECTIONS OF LIFE: Distinguished Concerts Orchestra International and Distinguished Concerts Singers International in Music of James Eakin III and Greg Gilpin
Stern Auditorium at Carnegie Hall; New York, NY
February 20, 2012
 

“Reflections of Life” Distinguished Concerts Orchestra and Singers International; PHOTO CREDIT – Richard Termine

 

Distinguished Concerts International New York (DCINY) has a gift for drawing large numbers of performers from far and wide and bringing them to still larger audiences, creating what are often spectacular events. Their most recent concert featuring music by James Eakin III and Greg Gilpin was no exception. High school and adult choruses from New Jersey, Texas, Alabama, Colorado, Wisconsin, Indiana, Minnesota, Louisiana, California, and Pennsylvania all converged onto the Perlman Stage, with choirs also filling several front balconies, enveloping the listener with sound; if one doubted the life-affirming power of classical music today, one might have a change of heart just from the sheer collective energy. Granted, not all the music performed was strictly classical, but Broadway and folk music were blended seamlessly into the mix with the help of DCINY’s versatile orchestra. Special guest, Clay Aiken, made an appearance to lend his support to the festivities with brief comments during the second hal8f.

The first half was devoted to the World Premiere of a 47-minute choral work, “Flowers Over the Graves of War” by James Eakin III, who has also written extensively for film and television. As the composer explains in his notes, “Commentary on the horrors of war and pleas to God for forgiveness and guidance permeate this work.” In six movements set to poetry by Michael Dennis Browne, along with Latin texts from traditional Requiem movements, the work ultimately conveys messages of faith, mercy, hope, and peace. As the composer also comments, the three soloists express the more introspective lines; soprano, Ida Nicolosi, mezzo-soprano Kirsten Allegri, and tenor Gregory Warren were commendable in their parts. A highlight was in the Sanctus, where the upper voices joined in duet, later united with the tenor in powerful trio. According to the composer, the higher voices were to express the “unwavering love and faith of a child” with the lower voices expressing darker elements. One wondered by the end of the work whether this “work of contrasts” (as the composer describes it) might have prospered from more juxtaposition of dissonance and consonance as well as the contrasting registers and textures, since even some sections modifying text about war seemed quite mild; on the other hand, such sweetness suited the choirs at hand, as well as the ultimate message of mercy. The use of percussion in martial sections added ballast, and while the orchestra may have been a bit overzealous in volume, the soloists generally met the challenge of projecting over them. Overall, I found this a moving work by a composer from whom I’ll be interested to hear more. Deft conducting by Tim Seelig brought it all together well.

After intermission we heard original and arranged music of Greg Gilpin
, with the conductor at the podium.  Mr. Gilpin conducted with infectious energy, and his choral works matched his conducting style in their all-embracing range.  Listening to the opening piece, “Why We Sing,” one could understand the popularity this work has had with choruses since its publication in 2005.  “Through the Eyes of a Child” (text by Mark Burrows and music by Gilpin and Burrows) brought out one of the themes of the evening, the bond between young and old, and “A Child’s Credo/In Virtute Tua” (a World Premiere) underscored that bond further.  These are works of immediate appeal that blur distinctions between classical and popular music. “There’s Room for Many-a More!” added the joyous touch of the American Spiritual, and a medley of favorites from 
”The Music of ‘The Wizard of Oz’” capped off the evening in high spirits.  Mr. Gilpin seems destined for ever-widening popular appeal. As is often the case with arrangements, there were some program omissions in crediting original sources; naturally the medley was Mr. Gilpin’s conception, but it seems a shame when, for example, “Somewhere Over the Rainbow” is sung, not to see the name of its composer Harold Arlen mentioned anywhere.  In any case, the end of the evening found the audience quite uplifted.

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

Distinguished Concerts International New York

DISTINGUISHED CONCERTS INTERNATIONAL NEW YORK: DCINY
THE MUSIC OF KARL JENKINS
Stern Auditorium at Carnegie Hall
January 16, 2012

A full house greeted the Distinguished Concerts Orchestra and Jonathan Griffith, Artistic Director, on Martin Luther King Day. The opening work of the program was Jenkins’ “The Wooing of Etain” in its United States premiere. The piece is unusually scored for soloists that include soprano saxophone, electric bass and uilleann pipes. Despite the unconventional use of  instrumentation, the work is sweetly tonal, warm and embracing. It was performed with affection and commitment, although some of the individual playing was slightly off pitch. The soloists: Rob Derke, Carlo de Rosa and Joseph Mulvanerty, performed and improvised with technical brilliance.

Jenkins’ “Sarikiz”, a violin concerto given its Carnegie Hall premiere, won the audience over instantly with its Carl Orff-like primitive energy and minimalistic repetition. Apart from the occasional reference to Kazakh folk themes, Jenkins uses two Kazakh indigenous percussion instruments, the dabel (hand drum) and the kepshek (tambourine). Like Orff’s beloved “Carmina Burana”, for example, very little counterpoint is used, the simplest of chords were often employed, and the percussion–while effective–is sometimes used a bit too often (here, they also covered the violin soloist at times). The idiomatic, virtuosic violin scoring holds the audience’s attention in this appealing work–especially with the right soloist. Jorge Avila did an outstanding job with the violin part, and his charismatic stage presence helped keep a diverse audience riveted.

Carol Barratt’s Fantasy Preludes for piano was given a solid performance by Danny Evans and receiving its United States premiere, was composed with an original touch–even though there were many reminders of 20th century modern and impressionistic influences. Nine preludes in all, there was a good deal of counterpoint–which was a refreshing change–and interesting harmonic variety as well. Melodic writing was sometimes chromatic, sometimes more spacial–but almost always lyrical. I would have placed the violin concerto after this work, as the solo piano looked and sounded anti-climactic after witnessing the orchestra.

A diverse audience was to be expected, as it was Martin Luther King Day, and Jenkins’ world premiere, “The Peacemakers”, included quotations from many important leaders or texts.

Those that were quoted include Gandhi, Mother Teresa of Calcutta, St. Francis of Assisi, Nelson Mandela, and Anne Frank (a touching, special addition to this list). Of course, there was also a Martin Luther King tribute. The excellent performers included soprano Antoni Mendezona, flutist Kara Deraad Santos, the return of saxophonist Rob Derke and electric bassist Carlo de Rosa, Benny Koonyevsky on ethnic percussion, and Joseph Mulvanerty on uilleann pipes.

Jenkins’ “The Peacemakers” is poignant, resonant, and meaningful. The music accompanies the corresponding texts with devotion. The instrumentation chosen always suited the origin or culture of the text; for example, the bansuri (Indian flute) with the Gandhi text, and the African percussion with the Mandela text worked perfectly. Martin Luther King’s tribute included an incredibly inventive mix of the Blues and Robert Schumann’s “Traumerei” (“Dreaming”).

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

Adam Gyorgy Pianist in Review

 Adam Gyorgy  pianist in Review
Stern Auditorium at  Carnegie Hall, New York, NY
November 13, 2011
 
Adam Gyorgy

Adam Gyorgy

 It is a testament to the gifts of Franz Liszt that, well into this year of countless 200th anniversary commemorative concerts, Liszt’s music still emerges as the inexhaustible treasure that it is. Having given several all-Liszt recitals just a few weeks ago, I had some hesitation about this assignment to review a Liszt program, but my faith in the diverse repertoire and acceptance of a wide variety of interpretive styles won out. As it has always seemed to me more meaningful to be reviewed by musicians with genuine experience in the repertoire being performed, that belief also helped offset any reservations. After all, a pianist is often the best judge of what sets (or doesn’t set) another pianist apart.

Adam Gyorgy is a young Hungarian pianist whose publicity sets him apart long before one enters the concert hall. Eye-catching photographs of the athletic Mr. Gyorgy in various exuberant action poses are matched by a biography that, in addition to the expected litany of credentials, traces his performing life to his early childhood tendency of drawing houses upside down, in consideration of the perceptions of others across a table. One imagines it was the same extroverted spirit that spurred the 2009 founding of his Adam Gyorgy Castle Academy in his native Hungary, also an effort to “give back” after all the help he received in his youth. Judging from Sunday’s performance, Mr. Gyorgy has much to give – it is only a question of how best to do it.

Starting from the high points, Gyorgy closed the evening by bringing brilliance and élan to a work that has been beset with kitschy associations for almost a century, Liszt’s Hungarian Rhapsody No. 2. While there are other works that offer a much nobler example of Liszt’s output, Gyorgy’s fresh and engaging performance dispelled preconceptions. Moving backwards from this last programmed work (in upside-down-house fashion), one enjoyed an excellent performance of Liszt’s La Campanella from the Paganini Etudes. Sure-fingered and seemingly effortless, this performance also had the greatest tonal and dynamic range of the evening. It seems Mr. Gyorgy has lived with both this Etude and the Rhapsody, and they could easily become “signature” pieces.

Preceding these last two pieces, Liszt’s Rigoletto paraphrase was delivered with polish and confidence, but it was not set apart from the standard that one has come to expect, technically and interpretively, from any number of today’s young conservatory graduates. A similar impression was left by the pianist’s straitlaced performance of Chopin’s Ballade in G minor, which also seemed somewhat anomalous on this Liszt tribute program, despite the fact that Liszt and Chopin were contemporaries.

What was more puzzling, though, was that Mr. Gyorgy chose to play the Chopin (or anything for that matter) directly after Liszt’s epic B Minor Sonata (the recital having no intermission), making the latter masterpiece somehow a mere prelude to increased brilliance. It seemed a disservice to both Chopin and Liszt to juxtapose them this way.  Some pianists (perhaps those who are trying to see and hear things from a lay audience perspective – the upside-down house) find the Liszt’s quiet ending problematic and awkward, hastening to follow it with more instantly gratifying works; even an untutored audience, however, can be trusted to grasp the depth of its final utterances and savor the silence. Perhaps this is a case for building the metaphorical house from the ground up and letting the audience come inside – there is integrity in that. An intermission would have helped.

What matched the Sonata’s minimized role on the program was the understated performance itself, subdued to the point where my companion asked whether there was a problem with the piano. The work seemed never to catch fire, with climaxes in the score (some marked triple forte) emerging muffled and monochromatic. The inherent wrestling and storming in this highly dramatic work were absent, while phrases needing to be ponderous or prescient became moderate and Mendelssohnian. Having encountered literally hundreds of renditions of this work, live and recorded, I found it difficult to embrace this one. The notes were mostly there, with admirably few smudges (not exactly unusual these days), but I needed more.

The recital’s opening “Improvisation” by Mr. Gyorgy did not help set up the Liszt either. Full of repeated primary harmonies in a sedate, New Age-type style, it seemed to dull the acute type of listening that the ensuing motivically complex Sonata requires. While quite pretty and delicately shaded, it bathed one’s ears in a wash of somewhat facile diatonic “heaven” that rendered almost meaningless the hard-won apotheosis of Liszt’s thirty minutes of high Romantic grappling. All in all, I will be eager to hear Mr. Gyorgy’s very promising playing again, but hopefully with more effective programming and more personally compatible repertoire choices.

An encore of the Liszt-Mendelssohn Wedding March (not the popular Horowitz version, but an extended transcription seeming to borrow from it) concluded the concert with spirit and humor.

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

American Symphony Orchestra in Review

American Symphony Orchestra in Review
Leon Botstein, Conductor
Stern Auditorium at Carnegie Hall; New York, NY
October 21, 2011
American Symphony Orchestra

American Symphony Orchestra; Photo Credit: Jito Lee

  

One thing you can’t fault the American Symphony Orchestra for is lack of ambitious programming. The two hour long concert that they presented included virtuosic orchestrations of Bach chorales; preludes and fugues by Max Reger, Arnold Schoenberg and Wolfgang Gräser; as well as three fiendishly difficult fugues by Lyonel Feininger, and Schoenberg’s “Variations for Orchestra”, Op. 31.

However, once the concert began, it became clear that the ASO had bit off slightly more than they could chew. In much of the Bach, including O Mensch, Bewein’ dein’ Sünde gross, section entrances were timid and the beginnings and endings of phrases were scraggly and uncoordinated. Leon Botstein’s conducting did little to alleviate the ensemble’s problems; alternately vague and abrupt, his gestures often appeared ill-suited to the sweeping, legato character of the Bach. Intonation problems in the bass and viola sections abounded. There also appeared to be a discrepancy among the string players about the use of vibrato throughout the works by Bach, with some players employing lush, romantic vibrato and other players using none at all. In Bach’s Prelude and Fugue BWV 552, “St. Anne,” the principal cellist played out of tune and appeared to lose his place within the solo.  

The concertmaster’s solos, in contrast, were effortlessly brilliant. Her understated style of leadership also deserves recognition. Unlike many concertmasters that overplay and spoil the homogeneity of the orchestral texture in their zeal to lead, she gave an excellent, assertive example for her section to follow while always respecting the character of the music.

Quite strangely, when the ASO played Feininger’s Three Fugues, arguably more demanding both technically and interpretively than any of the Bach, the ensemble suddenly sparkled. Their sound came alive, their intonation improved remarkably and Botstein’s conducting seemed perfectly attuned to the repertoire and the needs of his ensemble. Feininger’s musical architecture was intelligently presented, with sensitive dynamic interplay that allowed each line to be heard clearly. Fugue III- Gigue opened beautifully with a gossamer pizzicato motif and ethereal quality which recalled the Scherzo from Mendelssohn’s Midsummer Night’s Dream.

Schoenberg’s Variations for Orchestra, Op. 31, was similarly spellbinding and well performed. Although it was written during the height of his 12-tone period, the piece is still somewhat lyrical. The program, which seemed designed for the conservatory student with a penchant for atonal or complex music, was daring in its ambitiousness and cleverly-found continuity by utilizing many fugues or fugue-like pieces such as the Variations, which even incorporates the Bach motif (a succession of notes that quotes his name). However, the evening was far too long and dense for most audience members to digest. By the middle of the second half, many eyes appeared glazed-over. “No more Schoenberg, please!”, a lady muttered as she left. Perhaps the American Symphony Orchestra should take pity on their audiences (and musicians!) and intersperse their next concert with some lighter fare.

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

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

Rosa Antonelli, Pianist in Review

Rosa Antonelli, Pianist in Review
Stern Auditorium at Carnegie Hall; New York, NY
October 15, 2011
Rosa Antonelli

Rosa Antonelli

Rosa Antonelli, an excellent Argentinean pianist, presented a recital of mostly Argentine and Spanish composers at Carnegie Hall (Stern Auditorium), a concert benefiting Action Against Hunger.  Ms. Antonelli, according to the bio in the printed program, “is enjoying an active and varied career.” She has made extensive tours of Europe, Africa, Asia, Latin and North America. Hailed as a leading exponent of Latin American composers, performing works by such masters as Piazzolla, Ugarte, Gineo, Guestavino–among others–to audiences all over the world.

The concert opened with Floro Ugarte (1884-1975): his Two Preludes from “Suite de Mi Terra” (Suite of My Land). Ugarte, born in Buenos Aires, studied in Paris with Albert Lavignac and later became one of the principal organizers and conductors of the Colon Theater at the National Society of Music and the Superior School of Fine Arts at the University of La Plata. His Suite, composed in 1923, was inspired by the poems of the Argentine writer Estanislao del Campo and was originally written for orchestra. This suite consists of three parts: the first, in Animato tempo, captures the motion of weeping willow trees and their shadows, depicting a scene of melancholy contentment. The second part, in Lento Tempo, describes with dramatic intensity the approaching darkness as night begins to fall. (In 1934, Ugarte wrote a second series of “de Mi Terra” for orchestra.

Next came Four Tangos by Astor Piazzolla (1921-1992): Rio Sena; Sentido nico; Milonga del Angel; Chao, Paris. Piazzolla’s music has become increasingly ubiquitous and popular–almost a case of familiarity breeding contempt. He studied in New York City with Bela Wilde, and then–upon his return to Argentina in 1940–with Alberto Ginastera and Nadia Boulanger in Paris. (After intermission, two more Piazzolla Tangos, written in 1963, were heard. Ms. Antonelli’s performance at this concert was the World Premiere of the original piano version.)

Another Argentinean, Carlos Guastavino (1912-2000), followed the first four Piazzolla Tangos with Two Preludes: “El Patio” and “El Sauce from La Siesta.” “La Siesta” is a compilation of three Preludes, each depicting a different scene. The description in “El Patio” evokes the memory of J. Aguirre and depicts the traditional Argentinean weeping trees with soft flowing leaves whispering in the wind. The first half of the program ended with two works by Enrique Granados (1867-1916): his Epilogo from “Escenas Romanticas” and Allegro de Concierto.

After intermission, we heard two early compositions by Isaac Albeniz (1860-1907): Grenada from his “Suite Espanola”, Op. 47; and “L’Automne Waltz”, Op. 170. Ms. Antonelli played all these compositions ‘con amore’. She is a dyed-in-the-wool Romantic Lyricist. Her always aurally beautiful and caressing pianism uses a lot of color via the sustaining pedal; she molds phrases with enormous flexibility, and there was never a hint of harsh, ugly or astringent glint to her lush singing tone. My only quibble was that her deeply poetic interpretations were sometimes a mite too soft-grained and unassertive when I might have preferred to hear more brilliance and extroverted rhythmic thrust. The Granados “Allegro di Concierto” is often played with more virtuoso thrust, and the popular Tres Danzas Argentinas of Alberto Ginastera (1916-1983)– the third Danza del Gaucho Matrero, especially–could have been rendered with more stampeding clarity (as it usually is). On the other hand, Ms. Antonelli’s inward poetry forced me to rehear, and revalue, Piazzolla’s Tangos, which she infused with an eloquence and inner communication that, in truth, has sometimes eluded me.

Postludes to a memorably well-played evening, Ms. Antonelli’s flowing, songful rendition of the early Chopin Nocturne in C-sharp Minor, Op. Posth. was an ideally fitting encore.

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

Texas Christian University Wind Symphony in Review

Texas Christian University Wind Symphony in Review
Bobby R. Francis, conductor
Texas Christian University Jazz Ensemble
Curt Wilson, conductor
Stern Auditorium at Carnegie Hall
February 24, 2011

 

Texas Christian University brought its wind, brass and percussion players to Carnegie Hall, and I for one was pleasantly surprised regarding the extremely high quality of these young players. When the first-rate American Brass Quintet appeared on stage as guest artists, for example, they didn’t put these students in their place by comparison; on the contrary, everyone blended in so well that it was difficult to differentiate between the students and the pros.

Joseph Turrin’s excellent “Jazzalogue No. 1” from 1997 opened with a finely tuned, polished sound. The contrapuntal entrances were well placed and the balance was very clear. Jeremy Strickland, guest conductor, deserves kudos for preparing them so thoroughly. Patrick Williams’ Rhapsody for Concert Band and Jazz Ensemble was equally excellent, as guest conductor Curtis Wilson did a splendid job coordinating the many entrances.

John Mackey’s “Hymn to a Blue Hour,” composed last year, is a beautiful, stately, solemn work that was performed with deep commitment and excellent intonation. Here, guest conductor Brian Youngblood deserves credit for the preparation. Anthony Plog’s “Concerto 2010” is a solidly structured work with often pungent harmonies and raw melodic voicing. The percussion has a lot to do, and they were excellent, except that the xylophone was ahead of the brass in spots.  The harmonic style changes a bit too abruptly, but not nearly as much as in David Maslanka’s amateurish and eclectic Symphony No. 8 from 2008. Not only is it cliche and basic in its tonal language and counterpoint, the chordal changes and sectional transitions were often shockingly random.

In any case, these young musicians and their conductors deserve much credit for their topnotch performances of all the works on the program. They made a great impression.

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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.

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