Author: Philip Gardner

Elena Zilio Today

Mezzo-soprano Elena Zilio (above) made her operatic debut in 1963 and went on to sing dozens of roles – everything from Cherubino to Dame Quickly – throughout the world.

One of my favorite Zilio souvenirs is her passionate singing of Suzuki, Madama Butterfly’s faithful servant who, in this trio, foresees the story’s tragic ending:

BUTTERFLY scene Zilio P Dvorsky Stilwell Chicago 1985

Here she sings the aria of a distraught mother, Rosa Mamai, from Cilea’s L’ARLESIANA:

Elena Zilio – Esser madre e un inferno ~ L`Arlesiana

More recently, Elena Zilio has carved out a lovely niche for herself in character roles.

Earlier this year, Ms. Zilio had a personal triumph as Mamma Lucia in CAVALLERIA RUSTICANA at Covent Garden. In 2019, she alternates that role and Madelon in ANDREA CHENIER in performances at Firenze, Naples, London, and Munich.

~ Oberon

November 26, 2018
Jeannine Crader

Above: Jeannine Crader and Placido Domingo in Ginastera’s DON RODRIGO; photo by Fred Fehl

Soprano Jeannine Crader was a member of the San Francisco Opera’s Merola Program in the late 1950s, and sang Magda Sorel in Menotti’s THE CONSUL with the San Francisco Opera’s Spring Program in 1969.

She performed with the Metropolitan Opera Studio Company (above, in COSI FAN TUTTE, with Gimi Beni and Marcia Baldwin) before joining New York City Opera where she sang in the US premiere of Alberto Ginastera’s DON RODRIGO, opposite Placido Domingo, in 1966.

I saw Ms. Crader only once – as Donna Elvira at New York City Opera in 1966. With the Company, she also sang Tosca, Butterfly, and Giorgetta in IL TABARRO. In 1967, she and Domingo sang in ANDREA CHENIER together at the Cincinnati Opera.

Ms. Crader appears on Maurice Abravanel’s recording of the Mahler 8th, and there is a complete recording of DON RODRIGO available from Opera Depot. Beyond that, I can only find two Puccini souvenirs, both with Mr. Domingo:

Jeannine Crader & Placido Domingo – E Ben Altro Il Mio Sogno ~ TABARRO – NYCO 1968

Jeannine Crader & Placido Domingo – TOSCA scene ~ Act III – NYC Opera

Jeannine Crader sings a William Mayer duet, “Barbara, What Have You Done?” with Dorothy Renzi (audio only) on YouTube. I like it a lot.

Ms. Crader taught at the University of North Texas from 1970-1997.

~ Oberon

November 25, 2018
Catherine Gallant’s THE SECRET

Above: The Secret in rehearsal; the dancers are Janete Gondim and Eleanor Bunker

Catherine Gallant’s The Secret, one of my favorite danceworks experienced in recent seasons, may be seen on Vimeo here.

Seeing The Secret in 2016 prompted this response from me:

“The evening could not have a had a more propitious start than Ms. Gallant’s The Secret; like white-clad angels, the two dancers – Janete Gondim and Eleanor Bunker – continually conveyed the sense of wonder which permeates this dancework like a delicious fragrance.

With Ygor Shetsov at the piano, playing the Scriabin Poeme in F-sharp major, the two dancers moved about the space with a sort of quiet urgency, pausing to marvel at the treasure they had found, and which they were holding in the palms of their hands. The choreography flows gorgeously on the music: simple moves which take on a poetic resonance in the personalities of the two women; Janete and Eleanor were captivating to watch, and The Secret joins a short list of danceworks I’ve encountered in the past 20 years that ideally meld music, mood, and movement, leaving a lasting impression.”

~ Oberon

November 25, 2018
Catherine Gallant’s THE SECRET

Above: The Secret in rehearsal; the dancers are Janete Gondim and Eleanor Bunker

Catherine Gallant’s The Secret, one of my favorite danceworks experienced in recent seasons, may be seen on Vimeo here.

Seeing The Secret in 2016 prompted this response from me:

“The evening could not have a had a more propitious start than Ms. Gallant’s The Secret; like white-clad angels, the two dancers – Janete Gondim and Eleanor Bunker – continually conveyed the sense of wonder which permeates this dancework like a delicious fragrance.

With Ygor Shetsov at the piano, playing the Scriabin Poeme in F-sharp major, the two dancers moved about the space with a sort of quiet urgency, pausing to marvel at the treasure they had found, and which they were holding in the palms of their hands. The choreography flows gorgeously on the music: simple moves which take on a poetic resonance in the personalities of the two women; Janete and Eleanor were captivating to watch, and The Secret joins a short list of danceworks I’ve encountered in the past 20 years that ideally meld music, mood, and movement, leaving a lasting impression.”

~ Oberon

November 24, 2018
@ My Met Score Desk For PEARL FISHERS

~ Author: Oberon

Saturday November 24th, 2018 matinee – The New York City Opera used to perform Georges Bizet’s Pêcheurs de Perles fairly often, and I saw it there four times in the 1980s with such sopranos as Diana Soviero, Carol Vaness, Diana Walker, and the enchanting Rachel Rosales; tenors Barry McCauley and Jerry Hadley; and baritones Dominic Cossa, William Stone, and Robert McFarland. During that time of my life, I really liked this melodious opera, with its enchanting soprano aria, a poetic (and difficult) tenor aria, and – of course – a beloved duet for tenor and baritone: “Au fond du temple saint“.

But there’s also a lot of filler, atmospheric in its way yet in the long run just…filler. Pêcheurs was not on my initial list of operas to see/hear at The Met this season; but as I was tallying up my score desk order, I added a couple of operas just to see if they’d still be of interest to me. Pêcheurs, as it turns out, isn’t.

I had skipped this Met production of Pêcheurs when it was new, because I’d taken a strong dislike to Diana Damrau. This season, Pretty Yende is singing Leïla, a part which I imagined would suit her voice far better than Donizetti’s Lucia had. “O Dieu Brahma!” is not the easiest way to start your afternoon. Ms. Yende’s florid singing was not always fluent, and at times her pitch was a shade off; counter-balancing this were an ethereal high B-flat and a gorgeous high-D. I imagine her “Comme autrefois” would have been quite fine, but I couldn’t outlast the intermission to find out.

Alexander Birch Elliott had stepped into the role of Zurga midway thru the season prima of Pêcheurs, replacing Mariusz Kwiecien, who has now withdrawn from the production due to illness. Mr. Elliott has a handsome lyric baritone voice, and he blended perfectly with Javier Camarena in their famous duet, which drew sustained applause.

Mr. Camarena’s singing of the dreamy aria “Je crois entendre encore” was lovingly phrased, with exquisite piano effects. His voice is a bit light for this role in the big house, but it’s wonderfully present and expressive.

On the podium, Emmanuel Villaume did what he could with this perfumed score, giving an atmospheric prelude (twice interrupted by applause); he sometimes let his orchestra cover the voices, however.

Hearing this opera again had the effect of finding a disintegrating, powdery rose pressed in the pages of a book you haven’t opened in decades. You can’t remember who gave you the flower or why it was significant enough to save, but you feel a twinge of regret that something that once meant something to you no longer does.

Metropolitan Opera House November 124th, 2018 matinee
LES PÊCHEURS DE PERLES Georges Bizet Léila...................Pretty Yende Nadir...................Javier Camarena Zurga...................Alexander Birch Elliott Nourabad................Nicolas Testé
Conductor...............Emmanuel Villaume

~ Oberon

November 23, 2018
Seven Gates of Jerusalem

Above: the sheep market at the Herod Gate, Jerusalem, c. 1900

~ Author: Oberon

Among the many documentaries I watched during those long, humid afternoons of the summer of 2018 was one about the ancient city of Jerusalem. Watching it, and learning about the legendary seven gates of the city, put me in mind of Krzystof Penderecki’s seventh symphony, which is almost always referred to as SEVEN GATES OF JERUSALEM. This oratorio-like work premiered in 1997 at the State Hall in Jerusalem in a performance conducted by Loren Maazel.

In 1998, having lived in New York City for less than four months, I decided to attend a performance of the Penderecki work; I was mainly attracted by the listing of Christine Goerke and Florence Quivar among the vocal soloists. At this point in time, I had probably attended fewer than two-dozen performances of symphonic music in my opera-specific lifetime, and with few exceptions those were programs featuring vocal works. I don’t think I’d ever heard a note of Penderecki’s music prior to this concert:

This was actually the US premiere of SEVEN GATES OF JERUSALEM, and I was completely bowled over by it. From my opera diary:

“This exciting piece was brilliantly played by the Philharmonic, joined by the excellent Philadelphia Singers, some of whom were positioned in the boxes along the sides of the hall. Masur crafted the massive forces – including a large percussion section – into a cohesive and powerful whole. The work is short (one hour) and cries out for expansion [which the program note indicated might be forthcoming].

Stretches of lyricism, including a gorgeous horn solo, alternated with pageant-like passages; the orchestration dazzles, with a solo bass trumpet positioned in the auditorium. Striking rhythmic patterns abound, and the chorus has much to do – from near-whispers to full-cry.

Of the soloists, Christine Goerke dominated, with her glowingly strong middle register and wildfire forays to the top. Florance Quivar was her usual magnificent self, making me wish she’d had even more to sing. Tenor Jon Villars displayed both power and tonal appeal. Wendy Nielsen and William Stone had briefer parts, but were nonetheless impressive. In a spoken role, Boris Carmeli made a chilling dramatic effect.

The total impact of the work was splendid; and was greeted by an enthusiastic standing ovation. When Penderecki joined the players onstage, the applause re-doubled.”

Above: Krzystof Penderecki

Flashing forward twenty years, I watched a terrific DVD of the symphony – watched it once, and then immediately straight thru again. Although I rarely buy CDs any more, I did purchase a recording of this work in an excellent performance conducted by Kazimierz Kord and featuring the distinctive voice of contralto Jadwiga Rappé.

The importance of Boris Carmeli’s contribution to this work can’t be over-emphasized: the basso’s speaking voice is eerie and quite unique. Mr. Carmeli passed away in 2009. Of Italian heritage but born in Poland, he took part in almost every listed production of the SEVEN GATES OF JERUSALEM up until his death. In both the CD and DVD recordings mentioned above, he makes an incredible, unforgettable impression.

Above: Pope John Paul II greets Boris Carmeli and Krzystof Penderecki

Among the countless inventive, evocative sounds one hears in the course of SEVEN GATES OF JERUSALEM is that of the tubaphone. This tuned percussion instrument can be made of metal or plastic pipes (Penderecki calls for plastic) which are cut to various lengths, each producing a different tone. In the DVD I watched, this instrument is set upright, with the player hammering on the ends of the pipes with a mallet to get the desired effect. It is used extensively in the ‘scherzo‘ of SEVEN GATES, Lauda, Jerusalem, Dominum.

Now my great hope is that I might have an opportunity to experience this thrilling work in a live performance once again, in my lifetime.

~ Oberon

November 22, 2018
Emmanuelle Haïm @ The NY Philharmonic

Above: Emmanuelle Haïm

~ Author: Oberon

Wednesday November 21st, 2018 – Music of Handel and Rameau was on this evening’s bill as Baroque specialist Emmanuelle Haïm made her New York Philharmonic debut. Neither composer’s name is really associated with the orchestra (MESSIAH of course being the exception), but their music was most welcome tonight, following in the wake of a pair of less-than-enjoyable ‘contemporary’ works we’d just recently heard at Carnegie Hall.

From first note to last, the music offered this evening – and the Philharmonic’s playing of it – seemed truly fresh and vital. And Ms. Haïm is so engaging to watch: her deep affection for the music is evident at every turn, and her conducting has an embracing style which drew superb playing from the orchestra. On Thanksgiving eve, we wondered how big of a crowd might turn out, but the house was substantially full. It was the most attentive audience of the classical music season to date – always a good sign.

It was fun to enter the auditorium this evening and see two harpsichords parked on the Geffen Hall stage, one for Ms. Haïm, the other for Paolo Bordignon. Handel’s Concerto Grosso, Op. 6, No. 1, calls for a relatively small ensemble of musicians, with Sheryl Staples as concertmaster.

From her first downbeat, Ms. Haïm’s conducting had a choreographic feeling. Swaying with the music, her gestures resonated like balletic port de bras. One could imagine her, gorgeously gowned and bejeweled, leading the dancing at Versailles in another lifetime. What a marvelous presence!

In the Concerto Grosso, violinists Sheryl Staples and Qian Qian Li along with cellist Carter Brey, form a musical sub-set, playing trio motifs with elegance and verve. The Allegro movements sparkled, the Adagio soothed and charmed, the exhilarating finale was full of life.

Two of Handel’s Water Music suites were performed. In the first, No. 3 in G-minor, the tall and slender Sébastien Marq (above) brought his polished recorder tone and technique to the mix. Switching from alto to soprano after the suite’s first movement, Mssr. Marq piped away to captivating effect. Oboes, bassoon, bass, and theorbo add textures that constantly lure the ear, and a violin solo in the Minuet was graciously played by Ms. Staples. The familiar tunes of the final Gigues made for a happy ending.

Philharmonic horn players Richard Deane and Allen Spanjer joined the ensemble for the Water Music Suite #1 in F-major; they were seated on the highest riser alongside oboist Sherry Sylar, a second young oboist I didn’t recognize, and bassoonist Kim Laskowski. These five artists made musical magic as the suite sailed forward.

Ms. Sylar’s plangent playing of a solo in the Adagio was pure beauty, and the two hornsmen reveled in the harmonized coloratura passages of the second Allegro. The woodwind trio blended lovingly in the Andante, and then the noble horns graced the Minuet. In the Air, our string trio from the Concerto Grosso emerged again, to lovely effect, as the horns sustained long notes in support. Horn calls open the Minuet, and then the suite dances on with a Bourrée-Hornpipe-Bourrée combination: swift and light to start, with a woodwind trio intervention, and then a fast finale that tripped the light fantastic.

Applause filled the hall; Ms. Haïm came out for a bow, but made a bee-line for the upper riser, where she drew the horn players from their chairs, then had Ms. Sylar take a solo bow (to warm shouts of ‘brava!‘), and then had the mystery oboist and Ms. Laskowski rise. What a fine gesture!

Selections from Rameau’s opera Dardanus, arranged as a suite by Ms. Haïm, made a splendid effect as the program’s second half. The opera, a classic five-act Tragédie en musique which premiered in 1739, follows Dardanus – the son of Zeus and Electra – in his feud with King Teucer. Their eventual pact of peace is reached as Dardanus marries Teucer’s daughter Iphise, who he’d met through the intervention of the sorcerer Isménor.

If the plot sounds unlikely, the score is enchanting. An enlarged ensemble tonight brought abounding grace and drama to music which covers an extraordinary range of rhythms and textures. Among the many sonic treats are the sound of a repeatedly dropped chain in the “Entry of the Warriors“, a delicate blend of flutes and triangle in the Air, and the suggestive shaking of the tambourine.

Ms. Haïm’s Philharmonic debut was a sure success; she passed among the musicians, greeting them individually as the applause rolled on. I hope she will come back to the Philharmonic in the future, bringing more Baroque gems with her. And what might she do with Gluck, Mozart, or Berlioz?

~ Oberon

November 21, 2018
Cecil Coles, Composer

The name Cecil Coles was completely unknown to me when, at a recent Musica Viva NY concert, one of his works, Cortège, was performed as an organ solo. This sent me on a search for more information about the composer, who served in the Great War and who was killed by a sniper while on active duty in France, in April of 1918.

Born in Scotland, Coles became an assistant conductor at the Stuttgart Opera, and was the organist at St. Katherine’s Church in that city. At the onset of the Great War, he signed up immediately and joined the Queen’s Victoria Rifles, serving as the regimental band-leader. Coles did not let the war stall his composing career; during his time at the Western Front, he would send his manuscripts back to his friend, composer Gustav Holst, in England.

There’s a wonderful page about Cecil Coles on the BBC Scottish Symphony Orchestra’s website here. Conductor Martyn Brabbins talks about the many Coles compositions that languished, forgotten, for decades, and of his own efforts in orchestrating some of them.

British mezzo-soprano Fiona Kimm sings one of Cecil Coles’ most beautiful songs, A Benediction:

Fiona Kimm – Cecil Coles ~ A Benediction

Cecil Coles is buried at the Crouy British Cemetery in France.

~ Oberon

November 20, 2018
Maxim Vengerov @ Carnegie Hall

Above: violinist Maxim Vengerov

~ Author: Oberon

Tuesday October 30th, 2018 – Three wonderfully contrasted violin sonatas were on offer tonight at Carnegie Hall as the renowned Maxim Vengerov took the stage, joined by the excellent Roustem Saïtkoulov at the Steinway.

About ten years ago, Mr. Vengerov – as most classical music-lovers know – developed a mysterious arm/shoulder ailment that took nearly four years to diagnose and treat. He returned to the stage in 2012, and I first heard him live in 2015, playing the Tchaikovsky violin concerto with the New York Philharmonic. It was a thrilling performance, and tonight I was very excited to be hearing him again. In the grand and glorious setting of Carnegie Hall tonight, Mssrs. Vengerov and Saïtkoulov made a most congenial collaboration, to the great benefit of the music they’d chosen, and to the great delight of the audience.

Johannes Brahms’ Violin Sonata No. 3 in D-Minor is in four movements rather than the more usual three. It opens with an achingly romantic lyrical theme, aglow with passionate colours. The Vengerov/Saïtkoulov partnership brought a lot of nuance to the music, with a lovely dynamic palette and finely dovetailed modulations. In a heartfelt piano passage, Mr. Saïtkoulov’s playing moved me. An intoxicating, soulful finish seemed to entrance the audience.

The Adagio commences with a wistful melody, sublimely tailored; the players’ astute attention to dynamics again kept up their intriguing effect. The familiar descending theme of this movement brought a feeling of plushy, Olde World magic, but then a dropped program booklet and a cellphone intrusion ruined the ending.

Rhythmic vitality, and some charming plucking motifs, adorned the Scherzo, which has a somewhat sentimental quality: no mere jesting here.

Then players immediately launched the concluding Presto agitato, full of great swirls of notes and a rich mix of colours. Syncopations are at work here; the music builds and subsides, and then re-bounds in a rush to the finish. Prolonged applause, but the players did not come out for a bow.

George Enescu wrote his Violin Sonata No. 2 in F-Minor at the age of seventeen, reportedly in the space of a fortnight. Mssrs. Vengerov and Saïtkoulov play in unison for the sonata’s rather mysterious start. Turbulence is stirred up, but reverts to the unison motif. The piano then shimmers as the violin sings above with rising passion. Vengerov and Saïtkoulov both demonstrated great control of dynamics as the music took on a restless quality. They play in unison again, moving to a quiet finish.

A sad song opens the second movement, marked Tranquillement, pervaded by a strangely lovely feeling of melancholy. Again Mr. Vengerov displays pinpoint control of line in an affecting soft theme that rises to an exquisite sustained note. There’s a darkish quality from the piano as the violin is plucked. Then: a sudden stop. The music resumes – so quietly – with a shivering violin tremolo. The ending is simply gorgeous.

The concluding movement, marked simply Vif (“Lively”), starts off all wit and sparkle; both musicians savor the animation, tossing in wry soft notes from time to time. The music turns briefly grand, then softens, and the liveliness resumes. The players are on the verge of exceeding the speed limit when they suddenly veer into an unexpected ‘romance’. But wit prevails in the end.

Above: pianist Roustem Saïtkoulov

Maurice Ravel’s Violin Sonata was premiered in Paris on May 30, 1927, with none other than George Enescu as violin soloist, and Ravel himself at the piano. The opening Allegretto starts quietly, with a piano theme that is taken up by the violin. Mr. Vengerov sweetens his tone here, making the most of the melodic possibilities. The violin trembles over a shadowy piano passage, and then a transportive lyricism builds, with the violin rising and lingering. A heavenly conclusion: sustained violin tone over a shimmering piano.

To open the Blues: Moderato, the violinist plucks in altering soft and emphatic notes. The piano sounds rather glum at first, then starts pulsing persuasively as the violin gets jazzy, bending the phrases enticingly.

From a gentle start, the Perpetuum mobile finale lives up to its name. The piano goes scurrying along, and Mr. Vengerov turns into a speed demon. The music rocks along – Rhapsody in Blue and Fascinatin’ Rhythm are evoked briefly – with the violinist verging on manic whilst Mr. Saïtkoulov’s playing stays light and luminous.

The concluding works on the printed program both felt very much like encores: Heinrich Ernst’s decorative incarnation of The Last Rose of Summer and Nicolo Paganini’s super-elaborate take on the great aria Di tanti palpiti from Rossini’s TANCREDI (arranged by Fritz Kreisler) each had an “everything-but-the-kitchen-sink” feeling. Mr. Vengerov managed the fireworks well, drawing a celebratory audience response. My feeling was that one or the other of these two virtuoso pieces would have sufficed.

As an encore, Fritz Kreisler’s Caprice Viennois was beautifully played. The audience then began streaming out. We were in the lobby when we heard a second encore commencing; but it was too late to double back.

~ Oberon

October 30, 2018
Weilerstein|Bychkov ~ All-Dvořák @ Carnegie Hall

Above: cellist Alisa Weilerstein

Author: Ben Weaver

Saturday October 27th, 2018 – The Czech Philharmonic Orchestra, under the direction of its chief conductor and music director Semyon Bychkov, rolled into Carnegie Hall on Saturday, October 27th for a two-concert visit. The first concert was an all-Dvořák program which featured two of the composer’s greatest works: the Cello Concerto (with soloist Alisa Weilerstein) and Symphony No. 7.

Dvořák’s Cello Concerto was composed in New York City in 1894-95. Dvořák had long-held reservations about a concerto for the instrument: an early effort to write one in 1865 was left unfinished and lost until 1925; attempts by scholars to reconstruct it for performance have met with mixed results. But Dvořák was so impressed by a New York Philharmonic performance of Victor Herbert’s Cello Concerto No. 2 that he decided to try again. (Herbert, a highly successful composer of operettas in his own right, was principal cellist of the NY Philharmonic.) The resulting cello concerto by Dvořák, in the key of B minor, is arguably the greatest one of all. Brahms, for example, exclaimed: “Why on earth didn’t I know that a person could write a violoncello concerto like this? If I had only known, I would have written one long ago.”

The opening Allegro begins with a mournful clarinet solo, a melody that reappears throughout the movement – and returns in the second half of the final movement. The cello enters playing the same melody, though in a different key. Alisa Weilerstein is one of the finest cellists in the world today and she held the audience spellbound with her passionate, emotionally generous and technically precise playing. With Maestro Bychkov, and an orchestra that has Dvořák in their bones, this was a performance from all that could not be improved. (Special recognition for the magnificent, soulful horn solo playing by, I assume from the roster, Kateřina Javůrková.) The lovely second movement, Adagio, contains Dvořák’s tribute to his dying sister-in-law Josefina (with whom he was secretly in love). He revised the finale of the concerto after returning to Prague and learning that Josefina had died. Dvořák inserted a melancholy section right before the end of the work. He wrote to the publisher: “The finale closes gradually, diminuendo – like a breath…”

The audience greeted Ms. Weilerstein’s performance with a warm standing ovation. Weilerstein’s control of the instrument is superb. She manages to produce a million colors of sound, the rich and warm tone of her cello glows. The audience kept calling her to return, no doubt hoping for an encore. Alas, not on this night. But it’s hard to top perfection anyway.

After the intermission the orchestra performed what many consider to be Dvořák’s finest symphony, No. 7, commissioned by the London Philharmonic Society in 1884. Dvořák himself conducted the premiere in 1885. The symphony opens with a sinister theme from the lower strings. This melody, and the dark mood, dominate the movement and haunt the rest of the symphony. No. 7 has a reputation as Dvořák’s tragic work and many conductors emphasize the darkness. But maestro Bychkov and the orchestra find more nuance here. Despite the somber mood of the opening movement there is plenty of humor too, including a lively Scherzo that could have been rejected from Dvořák’s Slavonic Dances. It is a truly great Symphony, even if has not gained the popularity of Symphonies Nos. 8 and 9. And the Czech Philharmonic plays it better than anyone.

The glowing strings, warm brass (no barking here), and the obvious love they have for this music are incomparable. Although most great orchestras can play everything well, there is something to be said for orchestras of a composer’s native land taking precedence in how their music can and should sound. Russians play Tchaikovsky better than anyone, Czech musicians do it with with Dvořák and Janáček, the French play French in ways most others simply don’t, an Italian voice can do things with a Verdi line that no one else can, etc. It’s not just about all the notes being played – any decent orchestra can do that – it’s about how the musicians feel about those notes. And this great orchestra clearly feels Dvořák’s music in a singular way. It’s not just love for the music, it’s pride in the music. It is impossible to replicate anywhere else.

You could hear and feel this uniqueness tonight, especially in the two encores: two Slavonic Dances, the lilting Starodávný (Op. 72, No. 2; surely one of Dvořák’s most memorable melodies) and the thrilling Furiant (Op. 46, No. 8). If you didn’t sway or tap along to this music, if you didn’t sing it to yourself, you weren’t doing it right.

~ Ben Weaver

October 28, 2018