Author: Philip Gardner

More From The Lubovitch 50th @ The Joyce

Above: The Joffrey Ballet’s Fabrice Calmels in Lar Lubovitch’s Othello; photo by Herbert Migdoll

~ Author: Oberon

Saturday April 21st matinee – Continuing the celebration of the 50th anniversary of the Lar Lubovitch Dance Company at The Joyce, four dancers from The Joffrey flew in to perform excerpts from Lar’s 1997 full-length ballet, Othello, while Lubovitch Company members offered three distinctively different works by the choreographer. It was a first-rate afternoon of dance all round.

Little Rhapsodies (dating from 2007) is a gem of a dancework: to the delightful Symphonic Études, Opus 13, of Robert Schumann, three men – Jonathan Emanuell Alsberry, Reed Luplau, and Benjamin Holliday Wardell – trade solos and dance in unison.

At curtain rise, the dancers are seen in silhouette. They dance together, in a folkish vein. Then the solos begin: Mr. Wardell is a gorgeous and expressive mover; the ever-brilliant Mr. Alsberry is winningly whimsical and blithely balletic; and Mr. Luplau with a lightness of touch, breezy turns, and copious charisma. Music and movement are happily meshed in a pas de trois, followed by more solos: Mr. Wardell something of a revelation; Mr. Luplau amazingly swift, sure, and supple; Mr. Alsberry effortlessly combining the dynamic and the lyrical. The trio dance on to a fun finish.

Dance companies worldwide should snap up Little Rhapsodies: a perfect ballet to show off the male virtuosos on your roster.

Othello: A dance in three acts is Lar Lubovitch’s 1997 full-length ballet, choreographed to a score by Elliot Goldenthal. In excerpts from Act III, guest artists Fabrice Calmels, Victoria Jaiani, Temur Suluashvili, and Rory Hohenstein of the Joffrey Ballet danced the final pages of the tragedy with a compelling sense of theatre.

In a claustrophobic black chamber, Mr. Calmels’ downcast, glowering Moor sits on his black throne. The supplicant Cassio (Mr. Hohenstein, his hands bound) and the conniving Iago (Mr. Suluashvili) get under his skin whilst the incredibly lovely and vulnerable Ms. Jaiani as Desdemona seems unaware of her impending doom. The chilly music says it all.

Ms. Jaiani has a solo, her en pointe dancing a vision of grace. Mr. Calmels, his towering stature taking over the stage, displays the anguish of his mixed emotions. In a love/hate duet, he caresses his wife one moment and seems repulsed by her the next.

Mr. Suluashvili’s handsome, conniving Iago now continues his machinations to about bring about Othello downfall: in their dramatic scene, Mr. Calmels leaps onto the arms of his throne as Suluashvili’s Iago cowers beneath the Moor’s wrath (above, in a Cheryl Mann photo). Then the fatal handkerchief is produced. In this scene, composer Elliot Goldenthal makes marvelous use of the saxophone.

Eerie music accompanies Ms. Jaiani’s return as Desdemona. Then the composer conjures up an ominously cinematic setting for the final combat between husband and wife. Othello quickly prevails, and – true to Shakespeare’s immortal words – ‘I kissed thee ere I killed thee’ – passionately kisses Desdemona as he strangles her with the handkerchief.

As the four Joffrey dancers received resounding applause, I was recalling my only previous encounter with the Jaiani/Calmels partnership: they danced in Edwaard Liang’s Woven Dreams at Fall for Dance in 2011. They were splendid then, and splendid today.

Something About Night, Lar’s newest creation, was premiered earlier in the week. I liked the piece a lot at its first performance but, as so often happens, a second viewing today made an even stronger impression. The gently ecstatic duet for Nicole Corea and Tobin Del Cuore really cast a spell today, and Brett Perry’s solo was nothing less than sublime. Belinda McGuire and Barton Cowperthwaite had less to do than I might have wished, but Barton still had Men’s Stories ahead of him, wherein his performance brought down the house.

Men’s Stories: A Concerto in Ruin (above, in a Nan Melville photo) closed the performance on a mighty note. The cast was the same as that of the opening night, and they all outdid themselves. Stunningly-danced solos by Reed Luplau, Jonathan Emanuell Alsberry, Anthony Bocconi, and Barton Cowperthwaite – and an epic performance from Benjamin Holliday Wardell – kept the level of excitement sky-high, whilst Colin Fuller, Matthew McLaughlin, Brett Perry, and Lukasz Zięba all looked great and danced their hearts out.

The poignant, darkling, magically masculine world of Men’s Stories kept the audience in a rapt state of involvement, its musical mélange endlessly evocative. As waves of applause swept thru the house, the dancers took several bows before Mr. Lubovitch joined them onstage to a barrage of cheers. Happy 50th, Lar!!

Friends and fans gathered on the lower level after the show; I loved seeing Gabrielle Lamb again, having a long chat with Nicole Corea, meeting Fabrice Calmels, and congratulating JJ, Barton, Reed, and Brett. When Mr. Lubovitch quietly walked thru the backstage door, the crowd burst into spontaneous applause.

~ Oberon

April 21, 2018
Richard Goode @ Alice Tully

~Author: Scoresby

Tuesday April 17 2018 – Oddly, I have never had the chance to hear the pianist Richard Goode before. While a seminal figure in the American piano scene, I always seemed to not be able to make his performances. Thus, I was grateful to hear him live first on Lincoln Center’s Great Performers Series in program that ran in chronological order (spare the encore) over 300 years of music history.

The program opened with the Second and Third Pavians and Galliardes from Byrd’s My Ladye Nevells Booke of Virginal Music. While stunning music due to Mr. Goode’s pinpoint articulation – I couldn’t help but feel a layer was missing from the music by hearing it on the piano. The many trills and ornaments sound far heavier on a piano. Nonetheless Mr. Goode highlighted the harmonic progressions and layered the voicing so the audience could always hear the melody through those ornaments. In the Second Pavian, Mr. Goode let the large groupings of arpeggios having a flowing sound – he crafted melodic line to be joyous and full of energy. In the Galliarde to the Second Pavian, Mr. Goode loosened some and let the music have a more spontaneous feel, but still captured the dance form.

The second work on the program was Bach English Suite No.6 in D minor, BWV 811. In the opening Prelude, Mr. Goode seemed to have an improvisatory feel to the music – a lot less structured than the Byrd earlier. As the prelude turned into a fugal section, Mr. Goode seemed to eschew the carefree style for rigid structured and lucidity. It was a wonderful transition that let him highlight the quiet beauty in the inner voices and left hand of this denser section. As the prelude escalated in intensity, he took advantage of the piano’s wide dynamic range to let it boom like an organ. Mr. Goode took a brisker pace for the later movements. This worked particularly well in the charming Gavotte I and II. With the speed of the trills and folk-like allure, the Bach seemed to echo the Byrd from earlier. This seemed quite intentional every part of the program seemed to be strung together with a few different ideas. In the speedy Gigue that ends the suite, Mr. Goode seemed to at once capture the rhythm and get into a more dancelike idiom. His left hand’s clarity is rare in a pianist and he used it to build the intensity in each of the scales, adding drama to this finale. Despite having a light touch to the keys, Mr. Goode seemed to be able to build a large sound without sacrificing clarity.

Above: Pianist Richard Goode; photo credit: Steve Riskind

The highlight of the program was hearing Mr. Goode’s interpretation of Beethoven Sonata No. 28 in A major, Op. 101. Mr. Goode was the first American pianist to record all 32 of Beethoven’s sonatas; his expertise in the music showed this evening. Mr. Goode’s style of playing seems to revolve around painting the exacting structure of the music, so in the Beethoven he eschewed some of the more sentimental elements of the work to do this. While I personally find it sometimes a bit cold, it is interesting to hear a fresh and insightful interpretation. In the lyrical opening, Mr. Goode seemed to take a straightforward approach that pushed the music along. At first he kept his playing quiet and measured, but he seemed to emphasize the expansions into different registers and bell-like chords that appear littered through the work. While some pianists use these chords as a simple break, Mr. Goode made sure that each time they appeared they were a harmonic feature that drove the piece. Similarly as the first movement unfolded, he let the left hand’s drone sing clearly.

The second movement is famous for its odd Schumann-esque march. Mr. Goode let the driving rhythmic structures take precedent, echoing the bell-like motif from the first movement. He also made sure all the jazzy riffs had spunk to them, which echoed the Debussy to come. The most fun part of the night was during the giant fugue that ends the work. Mr. Goode managed to make the exciting fugue have pristine clarity, only to be quiet in to the romantic opening of the piece. The humorous coda at the end of the work seemed to have a few audiences members smiling as he finished.

The final work on the program (after intermission) were the Debussy Préludes, Book 2. Mr. Goode’s interpretation, while beautifully played, felt a little too monotone for my taste. Nonetheless, in the third image La puerta del vino, he managed to capture both the Spanish rhythms and bursts of different colors. The Ondine suited his style of playing well, letting each of the arpeggios ripple through with exacting phrasing. He capture the eccentricity of Hommage à S. Pickwick Esq. P.P.M.P.C., getting an earthier, Rachmaninoff- sort of sound. The tinkling of the folksy dance and humor during the contrasting section of the work harkened back to the Barqoue works earlier. It is clear that Mr. Goode manages to unify his programs by highlighting the common strands between works.

The audience seems to love Mr. Goode, giving him a hearty ovation following the exciting Feux d’artifice. After all the applause Mr. Goode played an extended encore: Chopin Barcarolle in F-sharp major, Op. 60. While the perfect closing piece for the program (according to Mr. Goode’s remarks the Barcarolle was a favorite of Debussy’s) and a pleasurable indulgence it felt a little long-winded to add on to the end of the performance. Nonetheless, Mr. Goode’s playing was just as thoughtful and free as earlier, closing the recital on a high-note.

April 19, 2018
Easter Hymn

Easter Hymn – CAVALLERIA RUSTICANA – Ghena Dimitrova – Jean Kraft – Met bcast 1988

March 30, 2018
Petrenko|Bayerisches Staatsorchester @ Carnegie Hall

Above: Kirill Petrenko on the Carnegie Hall podium; photo by Chris Lee

~ Author: Ben Weaver

Wednesday March 28th, 2018 – Kirill Petrenko is finishing his term as the Generalmusikdirector of the Bavarian State Opera and in the 2019-20 season will take over as the chief conductor of the world’s most prestigious orchestra, Berlin Philharmonic. It is with the Bavarian State Opera forces (in the concert hall dubbed Bayerisches Staatsorchester) that Petrenko is making his Carnegie Hall debut this season. His only previous NYC appearances were at the Metropolitan Opera where he led a very memorable revival of Ariadne auf Naxos in 2005 and Khovanschina in 2012. For this Carnegie debut concert, Petrenko programmed two oft-forgotten works by two very famous composers: Johannes Brahms’ Double Concerto and Pyotr Tchaikovsky’s Manfred Symphony.

Brahms composed the Concerto for Violin, Cello and Orchestra, Op. 102, in 1887. It was his last orchestral composition and it was greeted coolly even by ardent supporters like Eduard Hanslick. Soon Brahms himself was dismissing it as “folly” in letters to Clara Schumann. Neglected for many years, it certainly deserves to be heard more often; it surrenders nothing to his famed violin concerto in inspiration, melody and excitement. The writing may not seem as virtuosic as the violin concerto perhaps because Brahms composed a truly double concerto. The two instruments don’t have the kind of virtuosic writing that concertos often do. The music is more of a dialogue for violin and cello – and orchestra, too. It takes a great deal of camaraderie between the two soloists and conductor to bring the pieces together. Maybe it’s the lack of true star turns for the soloists that keeps some musicians away. But when played as superbly as it was by Julia Fischer and Daniel Müller-Schott, with Maestro Petrenko on the podium, the results are breathtaking.

Above: Julia Fischer and Daniel Müller-Schott playing the Brahms Double Concerto, with Maestro Petrenko; a Chris Lee photo

The work begins with a dramatic and brief orchestral opening and immediately the cello launches into an extended solo. One of the few passages of this kind in the work, Müller-Schott immediately established himself as an artist. Rich and velvety notes poured from the instrument. Julia Fischer, a former child prodigy who has grown into a true artist of the violin, soon joined in for one of the concerto’s many extended conversations between the two instruments. Ms. Fischer’s sound is delicate and sweet, the notes rolling effortlessly from her bow. Fischer and Müller-Schott have collaborated many times over the years. Their discography together includes a lot of chamber music, as well as the Brahms concerto. Their musical partnership came across beautifully in the performance, whether playing in unison or handing off music back and forth, it’s the sort of relationship that takes time to develop. The hushed, pastoral-ish second movement was wondrous and the Bohemian inspired dances of the Finale were perfect. Maestro Petrenko and the superb Bayerisches Staatsorchester forces were excellent partners.

Ms. Fischer and Mr. Müller-Schott gave an encore: an extended virtuoso piece: Passacaglia by Johann Halvorsen. It was really great!

Above: Julia Fischer and Daniel Müller-Schott, photo by Chris Lee

Tchaikovsky’s largest orchestral work, the Manfred Symphony was composed in 1885, between his more famous 4th and 5th Symphonies. Inspired by Byron’s poem (Schumann composed a famous overture based on it as well), Tchaikovsky – already master of the large orchestral forces – outdid himself with sheer size of forces needed, including a harmonium (typically replaced by an organ in performances and recordings.) Initially Tchaikovsky considered it to be his finest composition, but after a mixed reception from critics and the public, in what was a common refrain of his life, turned on it and declared it awful; even considered destroying everything but the first movement. Fortunately his instinct to burn it did not come to pass because it is certainly one of his greatest works. And I often think it may be his greatest symphony.

What I find astonishing about the Manfred Symphony is the sheer amount of invention – melodic and orchestration. In some ways it reminds me of Verdi’s Falstaff. Some complain that Verdi’s last opera is lacking in melody, but it might actually contain more melodies than all of his other works combined. They simply fly by and disappear so quickly that one can fail to notice. That’s my view of Tchaikovsky’s Manfred. The melodies and brilliant orchestration can be so sudden, so novel and so brief that it’s all gone and moved on to something else entirely before you realize what you just heard. It is truly a work that demands repeated hearings.

The dark first movement depicts Manfred’s anguished wanderings in the Alps; “His life shattered…”, as the program note (by Mily Balakirev) describes. With halting phrases, Tchaikovsky depicts a peaceful pastoral one moment, Manfred’s pain the next. The explosive climax – one of Tchaikovsky’s most beautiful melodies – is hair-raising. I often hear it as a perfect musical accompaniment to the moment in Wuthering Heights where Heathcliff is found dead in Catherine’s room, thunder and lightning blaring outside. The two middle movements are, by contrast, blasts of light. The light fairy music of the Scherzo (in the program a fairy of the Alps appears to Manfred splashing in a waterfall) would have pleased Mendelssohn, I think. The slow third movement presents a portrait of a peaceful nature, something Beethoven would have recognized perhaps. And in the final movement, again a darkness descends. The music swirls and growls as Manfred visits the caves of Arimanes. And the anguished love theme from the first movement returns to signal Manfred’s death – greeted with an organ playing a hymn.

The forces of the Bayerisches Staatsorchester played the work superbly. Kirill Petrenko led an all-around thrilling performance, goading the players to play bigger and louder (I was reminded of the famous story of Richard Strauss rehearsing Elektra and yelling to the players: “Louder, louder! I can still hear Madam Schumann-Heink!”) But effortlessly bringing volume and emotion down to a whisper when needed as well. Though Manfred has long been neglected (many complete recorded cycles of Tchaikovsky’s symphonies do not include it), over the past few years it has been heard in NYC several times. New York Philharmonic played it with Semyon Bychkov (one of Petrenko’s mentors) and Vienna Philharmonic played it at Carnegie with Valery Gergiev. Perhaps Maestro Bychkov’s performance was bigger. The NY Philharmonic’s heavier sound might account for the bigger bombast. Bayerisches Staatsorchester has a leaner, more pointed sound overall. It provided greater transparency in the more heavily orchestrated parts (and there are many.) Personal tastes will vary on the preferred sound. But no doubt Kirill Petrenko led a superb night of music-making. His future with the Berlin Philharmonic is very exciting.

Above: Kirill Petrenko and the musicians of the Bayerisches Staatsorchester acknowledge the applause at the close of this evening’s concert; photo by Chris Lee

~ Ben Weaver

March 29, 2018
YCA Presents Flautist Anthony Trionfo

Above: Anthony Trionfo, photographed by Matt Dine

~Author: Oberon

Wednesday March 28th, 2018 – Young Concert Artists presenting flautist Anthony Trionfo at Merkin Hall. Mr. Trionfo is a musician of prodigious talent and scintillating personality; along with the excellent pianist Albert Cano Smit and a quartet of string players, he offered a wide-ranging, adventurous program combining the familiar, the rare, and the new.

Gabriel Fauré‘s Fantasy in E minor, Op. 79, opened the evening. Mr. Trionfo’s shining tone and his feel for the sensuous undercurrents of the opening Andantino gave way, in the Allegro, to florid passages of crystalline coloratura. Mr. Cano Smit was the ideal partner here, his playing impeccably tailored, his seriousness of intent and commitment most welcome in such a young artist.

Returning alone to the stage, Mr. Trionfo gave a superbly confident performance of J.S. Bach’s Partita in A minor, BWV 1013. In this suite of dances, the flautist showed great subtlety and a multi-hued timbre that kept the music ever-alive. The Courante had a feel of birdsong, the Sarabande a forlorn air of touching simplicity. In the concluding Bourrée anglaise, the playing was light-filled and lovely.

The New York premiere of drip/spin by Katherine Balch, the 2017 YCA Composer-in-Residence, was prefaced by Mr. Trionfo’s remarks about the ‘dew-drop necklace’ – silk threads and mucus droplets – with which the glow-worm attracts and entraps its prey. The perpetual motion of the piano part seems to envision the spinning toils of the glow-worm, whilst the sighs and blips from the flute depict the unsuspecting victim. Some of the piano keys have been ‘prepared’, adding a ghostly quality. The flute lingers on high, until an energy drain occurs. Then the piano begins a rolling motif; in its death throes, the preyed-upon flute goes wild, with harsh accents that finally sputter out.

For the Chant de Linos by André Jolivet, a string quartet comprised of Mélanie Genin (harp), Aleksey Semenenko (violin), Ida Kavafian (viola) and Sang-Eun Lee (cello) joined Mr. Trionfo onstage. André Jolivet (1905-1974) composed this work on commission from the Paris Conservatoire in 1944 as a compulsory test piece for competitors in the Solo de Concours; the prize was won that year by Jean-Pierre Rampal. The work is a threnody (or lament to the dead) inspired by the story of Linos, son of Apollo. Linos taught Orpheus to play the lyre, and he was later killed by Heracles for criticizing him too much. André Jolivet was a composer inspired by the legends from antiquity; he wrote many chamber music works, eleven concertos, as well as orchestral and vocal music.

The rich yet transparent textures of the strings are quite contemporary in sound yet they evoke a distant, mythic past. A dreamy passage for flute and harp draws us in; the music can veer from lyrical to explosive in the twinkling of an eye. A subtle flute solo leads to a darkish dance played by all. Things get a bit woozy before turning to lament; following a cadenza, the music dances onward with the flute trilling and piping. What a great idea to program this ensemble piece tonight: a wonderful opportunity to hear this music, and so beautifully played.

Above: pianist Albert Cano Smit

A fascinating performance of Lowell Liebermann’s Sonata for flute and piano, Op. 23, followed the interval. The opening Lento con rubato soon wraps us in the strange beauty of its misterioso atmosphere. Delicate sounds from the piano’s upper register are followed by a big outburst which subsides into ghostliness. Single notes struck by the pianist underscore a sinuous flute motif; then the flute sound turns big and piercing. Rippling piano figurations summon the flautist back to song, a gentle flow becoming a percolation. The haunting melody returns in all is mystery, and Mr. Trionfo’s flute makes a final ascent to a remarkably sustained note that tapers away.

In the ensuing Presto energico, there is much bouncy, lively coloratura from the flute which Mr. Trionfo conveyed brilliantly, with lots of body English; meanwhile the piano writing is animated…almost wild. The music sails forward, with virtuosic playing from Mr. Cano Smit whilst Mr. Trionfo spins high flourishes with his flute. This work drew a very warm audience response, with the composer taking a bow to waves of enthusiasm.

Ian Clark’s Zoom Tube again gave Mr. Trionfo the opportunity to demonstrate some of the various sound effects his flute could produce…like the Balch, but more extroverted and pop-oriented. He sometimes seemed to be producing two different sounds at the same time, ‘speaking’ or blowing air, playfully jazzing things up, even emitting a whooping scream at one point.

Mr. Trionfo’s arrangement of the traditional Carnival of Venice provided an immensely enjoyable showcase for his virtuosity. After a captivating trill, the flautist embarked on a series of variations on the familiar tune: the blues, bel canto, jazz, a Latin lilt, ‘Casta diva‘, and on and on. Mr. Cano Smit was the perfect accomplice in this imaginative tour de force as the two players kept the audience thoroughly engaged with their technical dazzle and well-contrasted personalities.

As an encore, Mr. Trionfo offered Debussy’s Syrinx, ending on a sustained, gossamer pianissimo.

~ Oberon

March 28, 2018
Tetzlaff @ Tully

~ Author: Scoresby

Wednesday March 28th, 2018 – It is difficult to write about Bach’s Sonatas and Partitas for Solo Violin, especially live performances. It is stunning music with too many layers to write about, nearly impossible to play well live (recordings polish all the difficulties away), and something that many people are familiar with. Of course it is far harder to play them in an evening – the endurance required is a feat that few violinists attempt. As part of the Lincoln Center Great Performers series in Alice Tully Hall, violinist Christian Tetzlaff gave a solo recital of two thirds of the set. Mr. Teztlaff has a history of performing these works every few years in NY, he has played them twice in full at the 92nd Street Y before (both of which I regretfully missed) and just issued his second recording of the set last year. Thus it seemed like the perfect opportunity to sit down and listen.

Mr. Tetzlaff was all business this evening, walking out on stage and starting to play the Grave of Sonata No. 2 in A minor, BWV 1003 before the audience had even stopped clapping. The audience took this entire movement before settling in (people were still rustling in their seats, whispering, etc…). He took a brisk tempo and sounded almost improvisatory with this opening. The sound was clean and had almost no vibrato. Without a pause he jumped straight in to the Fuga, making the two movements sound like something out of the Well-Tempered Clavier.

The fugue was orchestral in scale and each down-bow was emphasized to give the piece its own internal rhythm. The effect was hypnotic, drawing the listener into Mr. Tetzlaff’s world. While not clean playing by any means, that’s not the point when listening to Mr. Tetzlaff. He is able to build large structures without making the music sound pretentious – his playing is fluid and with ease all at once.

Above: violinist Christian Tetzlaff; photo credit: Giorgia Bertazzi

The Andante was the highlight of the concert. Again a faster pace than is typically played, Mr. Tetzlaff used this to bring out the accompanying pulse in the bass. Just by playing it faster, the piece sounded more orchestral and unified without losing its charm. Many violinists eschew this pulse for the main melody, but Mr. Tetzlaff gave them equal importance making the melody sound like a baroque soloist sitting atop an accompanying recorder. Despite that large sonority, Mr. Tetzlaff was unassuming in his playing – not injecting anything besides bringing out that counter-melody. There was basically no tension nor ornamentation, just the soft padding of the pedal point and the beautiful melody sitting atop. It is moving to hear music played that joyously and humbly; the happiness was contagious.

In the sunnier second half of the program with Sonata No. 3 in C major, BWV 1005 and Partita No. 3 in E major, BWV 1006, Mr. Tetzlaff was more at home. His unpretentious, almost folksy sound worked well with both of these works. The Fuga of Bach’s 3rd sonata is one of Bach’s most complex fugues. It starts with a simple theme that is put through the wringer of different techniques that would be difficult on a keyboard, let alone a violin. Mr. Tetzlaff navigated its complexity by highlighting the inner voices and given a soft bowing, making this work sound more intimate despite a slew of mistakes. The dense chords became chorale like.

The other highlight of the program was the fourth movement of this sonata. Mr. Tetzlaff played the Allegro assai with ease, eliminating all of the rough sonorities that torment other violinists. His tone was understated, quiet, and made every voice entirely visible. His bowing was magical to watch, it looked (and sound) as if there was no tension – just gliding through the technical piece like water pours into a glass. This allowed him to make each key shift stand out and take on its own timbre – a brilliant way of playing Bach. The last Partita fit Mr. Tetzlaff’s down-to-Earth sensibilities. He played with a delicate sensibility letting the music unravel on its own through various bursts of speed and thoughtful passagework. He eschewed almost all ornamentation and just played the music.

After the performance one person nearby me said ‘Well, he can’t play all the notes’, to which I gladly agree. Instead his performance was human, vulnerable, and humble. In spite of some of his idiosyncratic rhythms, this performance showed that he is the antithesis of a virtuoso, something all too rare.

~ Scoresby

March 28, 2018
CMS Winter Festival 2018 – #3

Above: the Shanghai Quartet

~ Author: Oberon

Tuesday March 27th, 2018 – The last concert of Chamber Music Society of Lincoln Center‘s Winter festival, entitled Chamber Music Vienna.

Ignaz Schuppenzigh (1776-1830) is credited with pioneering the ‘chamber music series’. Schuppenzigh was a violinist and a friend of Beethoven who presented over a hundred chamber music concerts in Vienna between 1823 and 1828. Works of Haydn, Mozart, and Beethoven were prominently featured in the programming, and it is precisely those three composers whose music we heard this evening.

But tonight’s concert had a deeper significance, for it duplicated exactly the program Schuppenzigh offered in Vienna on March 26th, 1827 – the very day that Beethoven passed away. In fact, it has been determined that the moving Largo con espressione from Beethoven’s Trio in G major, Op. 1, No, 2, was being played the exact time of the great man’s passing.

The Shanghai Quartet opened this evening’s concert with Haydn’s Quartet in G major for Strings, Hob. III:81, Op. 77, No. 1 (1799). The Shanghai have their own distinctive sound, cool and concise, suited well to both their Haydn and Mozart offerings on this program.

The opening movement of the G major quartet, marked Allegro moderato, has a feeling of perpetual motion, somewhere between a march and a dance. There are ingratiating modulations and the writing is quite florid. By contrast, the Adagio, with its unison opening, has an almost operatic feeling. Courtly, and with gracious harmonies, the first violin sings forth and then engages in a duet with the deepening cello. Rising modulations – with the cello ever-prominent – bring a da capo which, with varying harmonics, reaches an emotional level I don’t often feel in Haydn’s music. The Shanghai made much of this movement’s sheer beauty.

The Minuet has the genuine air of a scherzo; it’s fun, with swirls of notes carrying the violin on high. The swift, unison start of the Finale: Presto brings some very nimble playing from the Shanghai’s 1st violinist, Weigang Li; the music becomes genuinely exhilarating.

Next came Mozart: his Quartet in D-major for Strings, K. 575, is one of the “Prussian” quartets (dating from 1789) and as such features the cello as a nod to the cello-playing king, Friedrick Wilhelm II. In the opening Allegretto, it is the cello that presents the second theme; here, and throughout the piece, the Shanghai’s Nicholas Tzavaras shone.

While the Andante clearly showcases the cello, Mozart doesn’t shirk on opportunities for the violist – Honggang Li – or the violins, Weigang Li and Yi-Wen Jiang. Mr. Tzavaras is really in his element with the melodies, and at one point a matched phrase is passed from voice to voice. Quite inventive.

Following the light, jesting feeling of the Menuetto (Allegretto), the concluding Allegretto‘s theme takes the cello to its high register. A decorative canon pops up before we reach the finale.

Above: Beethoven’s tomb in Vienna’s Central Cemetary

The evening ended with Beethoven’s Trio in G major for Piano, Violin, and Cello, Op. 1, No. 2. Pianist Gilbert Kalish, violinist Arnaud Sussmann, and cellist Paul Watkins took the stage for a first-rate performance of this work from a still-young composer.

Following a slow introduction, in which the lovely blend of the strings and the stylish Steinway work of Mr. Kalish heralded delights to come, the first movement goes Allegro in quite a lively, sometimes folkish manner. The writing has its witty aspects, but the two women in front of us decided they’d never heard anything so hilarious, and they struck up a running conversation, laced with chuckles. Shushing was to no avail.

Arnaud Sussmann’s absolutely gorgeous tone made a glowing impact in the Largo con espressione, inter-weaving with the bounteous beauty of Mr. Watkins’s cello to irresistible effect as refined romance bloomed from the keyboard. This Largo is considered to be Beethoven’s first great slow movement.

Following the Scherzo, which bounces from major to minor and back, light-weight agitation marks the Finale: Presto. One violin motif seems like a pre-echo from Rossini’s GUILLAUME TELL overture. With its rhythmic vitality and breezy, devil-may-care lilt, the Presto comes to a vivacious end.

~ Oberon

March 28, 2018
CMS Winter Festival 2018 – #3

Above: the Shanghai Quartet

~ Author: Oberon

Tuesday March 27th, 2018 – The last concert of Chamber Music Society of Lincoln Center‘s Winter festival, entitled Chamber Music Vienna.

Ignaz Schuppenzigh (1776-1830) is credited with pioneering the ‘chamber music series’. Schuppenzigh was a violinist and a friend of Beethoven who presented over a hundred chamber music concerts in Vienna between 1823 and 1828. Works of Haydn, Mozart, and Beethoven were prominently featured in the programming, and it is precisely those three composers whose music we heard this evening.

But tonight’s concert had a deeper significance, for it duplicated exactly the program Schuppenzigh offered in Vienna on March 26th, 1827 – the very day that Beethoven passed away. In fact, it has been determined that the moving Largo con espressione from Beethoven’s Trio in G major, Op. 1, No, 2, was being played the exact time of the great man’s passing.

The Shanghai Quartet opened this evening’s concert with Haydn’s Quartet in G major for Strings, Hob. III:81, Op. 77, No. 1 (1799). The Shanghai have their own distinctive sound, cool and concise, suited well to both their Haydn and Mozart offerings on this program.

The opening movement of the G major quartet, marked Allegro moderato, has a feeling of perpetual motion, somewhere between a march and a dance. There are ingratiating modulations and the writing is quite florid. By contrast, the Adagio, with its unison opening, has an almost operatic feeling. Courtly, and with gracious harmonies, the first violin sings forth and then engages in a duet with the deepening cello. Rising modulations – with the cello ever-prominent – bring a da capo which, with varying harmonics, reaches an emotional level I don’t often feel in Haydn’s music. The Shanghai made much of this movement’s sheer beauty.

The Minuet has the genuine air of a scherzo; it’s fun, with swirls of notes carrying the violin on high. The swift, unison start of the Finale: Presto brings some very nimble playing from the Shanghai’s 1st violinist, Weigang Li; the music becomes genuinely exhilarating.

Next came Mozart: his Quartet in D-major for Strings, K. 575, is one of the “Prussian” quartets (dating from 1789) and as such features the cello as a nod to the cello-playing king, Friedrick Wilhelm II. In the opening Allegretto, it is the cello that presents the second theme; here, and throughout the piece, the Shanghai’s Nicholas Tzavaras shone.

While the Andante clearly showcases the cello, Mozart doesn’t shirk on opportunities for the violist – Honggang Li – or the violins, Weigang Li and Yi-Wen Jiang. Mr. Tzavaras is really in his element with the melodies, and at one point a matched phrase is passed from voice to voice. Quite inventive.

Following the light, jesting feeling of the Menuetto (Allegretto), the concluding Allegretto‘s theme takes the cello to its high register. A decorative canon pops up before we reach the finale.

Above: Beethoven’s tomb in Vienna’s Central Cemetary

The evening ended with Beethoven’s Trio in G major for Piano, Violin, and Cello, Op. 1, No. 2. Pianist Gilbert Kalish, violinist Arnaud Sussmann, and cellist Paul Watkins took the stage for a first-rate performance of this work from a still-young composer.

Following a slow introduction, in which the lovely blend of the strings and the stylish Steinway work of Mr. Kalish heralded delights to come, the first movement goes Allegro in quite a lively, sometimes folkish manner. The writing has its witty aspects, but the two women in front of us decided they’d never heard anything so hilarious, and they struck up a running conversation, laced with chuckles. Shushing was to no avail.

Arnaud Sussmann’s absolutely gorgeous tone made a glowing impact in the Largo con espressione, inter-weaving with the bounteous beauty of Mr. Watkins’s cello to irresistible effect as refined romance bloomed from the keyboard. This Largo is considered to be Beethoven’s first great slow movement.

Following the Scherzo, which bounces from major to minor and back, light-weight agitation marks the Finale: Presto. One violin motif seems like a pre-echo from Rossini’s GUILLAUME TELL overture. With its rhythmic vitality and breezy, devil-may-care lilt, the Presto comes to a vivacious end.

~ Oberon

March 27, 2018
Twenty Years in Gotham

March 28th, 2018 – Twenty years ago today, I moved to New York City. This was the first photo taken of me after I settled in at the studio on Perry Street.

Around 1995, I had started to lay definite plans for leaving Hartford and living in my dream city; my goal had been to do it prior to my 50th birthday, and I made it with three months to spare. About three weeks after I’d moved here, I met Wei…and the rest is history.

March 27, 2018
Marina Prudenskaya

Born in St. Petersburg, Marina Prudenskaya’s career has centered at Stuttgart (2007-2013) and more recently at the Berlin State Opera. Her vast repertoire has included Bradamante (Alcina), Clitemnestre (Iphigénie en Aulide), Adalgisa (Norma), Fenena (Nabucco), Federica (Luisa Miller), Amneris (Aida), Carmen, Waltraute (Götterdämmerung), Octavian, Azucena, Eboli, Ulrica, Venus in Tannhäuser, Brangäne (Tristan und Isolde), Lyubasha (The Tsar’s Bride), Marie (Wozzeck), Composer (Ariadne auf Naxos), Hansel, and Mother Goose (The Rake’s Progress).

She has sung at La Scala, the Mariinsky, and Bayreuth, and in 2017 she sang Amneris at Washington DC. Ms. Prudenskaya caught my attention while watching a DVD of Rheingold from La Scala, conducted by Daniel Barenboim: as Flosshilde (a role she’s also sung at Bayreuth), the mezzo sings lushly and moves with the grace of a dancer.

Marina Prudenskaya – Rimsky-Korsakov ~ Across the Midnight Sky

March 25, 2018