Author: Philip Gardner

  • Bronfman’s Bartok @ The NY Philharmonic

    Bronfman

    Above: pianist Yefim Bronfman

    ~ Author: Oberon

    Wednesday December 27th, 2017 – My friend Dmitry and I are fans of Yefim Bronfman, so this evening’s concert by The New York Philharmonic was a perfect classical-music finale for the year 2017.

    The evening opened with the overture to Smetana’s opera THE BARTERED BRIDE. I first heard this overture played live when James Levine chose it to open the Metropolitan Opera’s 100th anniversary gala in 1983. The gala (in two parts – matinee and evening) was telecast worldwide, but I was fortunate to have been in the House for the afternoon program. Let’s just say, they don’t make opera galas like that any more.

    It was great fun to hear the jolly, rambunctious Smetana overture again tonight under Bramwell Tovey’s baton; the Maestro set an exhilarating, ultra-fast pace for this music, and the Philharmonic artists took up his challenge: they played brilliantly and seemed truly to be having fun into the bargain. The music passes thru many modulations along the way, and solo moments sparkle forth – notably from Sherry Sylar’s oboe – as we are danced along in a lively manner. Really, an ideal concert-opener.

    Mr. Bronfman then appeared for the Bartok 2nd piano concerto. Following an ascending flourish from the Steinway, the first movement commences with rather wild brass fanfares. The piano sounds restless, set against winds; the turbulence builds only to subside, and Mr. Brofman’s playing turns subtle. Following another brass and piano build-up, there’s a full stop. Thereafter the music seems more melodious, though droll and ironic. The brass get quite noisy before the pianist silences them with a cadenza that flows up and down the keyboard. After a passage for flutes and piano, the soloist plays a double rising motif.

    Pensive strings introduce the the Adagio which develops into a marvelous duet for piano and timpani. Here Mr. Bronfman and timpanist Marcus Rhoten created an incredible atmosphere: moody and a bit ominous. Suddenly things perk up without warning and we are in a scherzo-like realm with an agitato feeling and with the pianist finding unusual delicacies. Mr. Bronfman then commences a remarkable pianissimo trill that goes on and on over misterioso strings.

    For the concerto’s finale, Bartók gets almost jazzy – in a slightly darkish way – and we hear from the trumpets; a feeling of a kind of war dance evolves. Another piano/percussion duet crops up – this time it’s Steinway vs bass drum – before the music turns unexpectedly dreamy. But the dream is short-lived as the trumpets re-awaken and the concerto ends brightly. Mr. Bronfman was well in his element throughout, his playing agile and multi-hued, with fine dynamic contrasts. The orchestra did their soloist proud.

    By way of perfect contrast to his grand-scale playing of the Bartók, Mr. Bronfman chose for an encore Chopin’s Étude in E Major, Op.10, No.3. The opening melody of this work, thought to have been Chopin’s favorite among the études, was later the source of a vocal song arranged by the soprano Félia Litvinne and recorded famously by Litvinne’s pupil, the tragic Germaine Lubin. This evening, Mr. Bronfman’s poetic rendering of the full étude cast a thoughtful spell over the hall. This magical experience, like so many others in recent years, was sadly spoilt in its most poignant passage by the ringing of a cellphone. Yet Mr. Bronfman continued, unperturbed, and left me a beautiful memory to cherish.

    94-ef6ab60c90ba3fb6a7911b7999dd5f4e

    Above: Bramwell Tovey

    Following the interval, an exciting performance of Mussorgsky’s Pictures at an Exposition (in the Ravel orchestration) again found the orchestra on peak form. Opening with a brass chorale Promenade, which recurs with variations during the first seven movements, the suite conjures up visions of the works of Viktor Hartmann. Upon Hartmann’s death in 1874 at the young age of 39, an exhibition of his work was mounted at St. Petersburg. Mussorgsky visited the exhibit and was inspired by what he saw to write a set of miniatures for piano. In 1922, Maurice Ravel orchestrated the pieces.

    A huge orchestra is in play, including five percussionists, two harps, and celesta. The ponderous Gnome, the child-like and playful Tuileries, the plodding Ox-Cart, the mini-scherzo of the Ballet of Unhatched Chicks, the bustling Marketplace at Limoges, the Roman Catacombs (deep brass), and the fanciful Hut of Baba-Yaga are all evoked in coloristic settings which the Philharmonic players delivered with evident affection.

    The movement which most impressed me was Il Vecchio Castello (The Old Castle) in which flutes, oboe, and bassoon were joined by the mellow, distinctive voice of the alto saxophone. This music was so evocative that I got lost in it. 

    The suite ends on a grand note with The Great Gate of Kiev. Sumptuously played, it brought a year full of music to an imperial finish.

    ~ Oberon

  • Bronfman’s Bartok @ The NY Philharmonic

    Bronfman

    Above: pianist Yefim Bronfman

    ~ Author: Oberon

    Wednesday December 27th, 2017 – My friend Dmitry and I are fans of Yefim Bronfman, so this evening’s concert by The New York Philharmonic was a perfect classical-music finale for the year 2017.

    The evening opened with the overture to Smetana’s opera THE BARTERED BRIDE. I first heard this overture played live when James Levine chose it to open the Metropolitan Opera’s 100th anniversary gala in 1983. The gala (in two parts – matinee and evening) was telecast worldwide, but I was fortunate to have been in the House for the afternoon program. Let’s just say, they don’t make opera galas like that any more.

    It was great fun to hear the jolly, rambunctious Smetana overture again tonight under Bramwell Tovey’s baton; the Maestro set an exhilarating, ultra-fast pace for this music, and the Philharmonic artists took up his challenge: they played brilliantly and seemed truly to be having fun into the bargain. The music passes thru many modulations along the way, and solo moments sparkle forth – notably from Sherry Sylar’s oboe – as we are danced along in a lively manner. Really, an ideal concert-opener.

    Mr. Bronfman then appeared for the Bartok 2nd piano concerto. Following an ascending flourish from the Steinway, the first movement commences with rather wild brass fanfares. The piano sounds restless, set against winds; the turbulence builds only to subside, and Mr. Brofman’s playing turns subtle. Following another brass and piano build-up, there’s a full stop. Thereafter the music seems more melodious, though droll and ironic. The brass get quite noisy before the pianist silences them with a cadenza that flows up and down the keyboard. After a passage for flutes and piano, the soloist plays a double rising motif.

    Pensive strings introduce the the Adagio which develops into a marvelous duet for piano and timpani. Here Mr. Bronfman and timpanist Marcus Rhoten created an incredible atmosphere: moody and a bit ominous. Suddenly things perk up without warning and we are in a scherzo-like realm with an agitato feeling and with the pianist finding unusual delicacies. Mr. Bronfman then commences a remarkable pianissimo trill that goes on and on over misterioso strings.

    For the concerto’s finale, Bartók gets almost jazzy – in a slightly darkish way – and we hear from the trumpets; a feeling of a kind of war dance evolves. Another piano/percussion duet crops up – this time it’s Steinway vs bass drum – before the music turns unexpectedly dreamy. But the dream is short-lived as the trumpets re-awaken and the concerto ends brightly. Mr. Bronfman was well in his element throughout, his playing agile and multi-hued, with fine dynamic contrasts. The orchestra did their soloist proud.

    By way of perfect contrast to his grand-scale playing of the Bartók, Mr. Bronfman chose for an encore Chopin’s Étude in E Major, Op.10, No.3. The opening melody of this work, thought to have been Chopin’s favorite among the études, was later the source of a vocal song arranged by the soprano Félia Litvinne and recorded famously by Litvinne’s pupil, the tragic Germaine Lubin. This evening, Mr. Bronfman’s poetic rendering of the full étude cast a thoughtful spell over the hall. This magical experience, like so many others in recent years, was sadly spoilt in its most poignant passage by the ringing of a cellphone. Yet Mr. Bronfman continued, unperturbed, and left me a beautiful memory to cherish.

    94-ef6ab60c90ba3fb6a7911b7999dd5f4e

    Above: Bramwell Tovey

    Following the interval, an exciting performance of Mussorgsky’s Pictures at an Exposition (in the Ravel orchestration) again found the orchestra on peak form. Opening with a brass chorale Promenade, which recurs with variations during the first seven movements, the suite conjures up visions of the works of Viktor Hartmann. Upon Hartmann’s death in 1874 at the young age of 39, an exhibition of his work was mounted at St. Petersburg. Mussorgsky visited the exhibit and was inspired by what he saw to write a set of miniatures for piano. In 1922, Maurice Ravel orchestrated the pieces.

    A huge orchestra is in play, including five percussionists, two harps, and celesta. The ponderous Gnome, the child-like and playful Tuileries, the plodding Ox-Cart, the mini-scherzo of the Ballet of Unhatched Chicks, the bustling Marketplace at Limoges, the Roman Catacombs (deep brass), and the fanciful Hut of Baba-Yaga are all evoked in coloristic settings which the Philharmonic players delivered with evident affection.

    The movement which most impressed me was Il Vecchio Castello (The Old Castle) in which flutes, oboe, and bassoon were joined by the mellow, distinctive voice of the alto saxophone. This music was so evocative that I got lost in it. 

    The suite ends on a grand note with The Great Gate of Kiev. Sumptuously played, it brought a year full of music to an imperial finish.

    ~ Oberon

  • Evelyn Mandac

    Mandac

    Evelyn Mandac (above), a soprano from The Philippines, sang several performances as Lauretta in Gianni Schicchi plus a single Gretel at The Met in 1976.

    She appeared with San Francisco Opera as Susanna in Le nozze di Figaro, Despina in Cosi fan Tutte (with Frederica von Stade and Evelyn Lear), and as Ines in L’Africaine (with Shirley Verrett and Plácido Domingo). The Meyerbeer is preserved on the Gala label.

    Ms. Mandac sang in the American premieres of works by Henze, Berio, and Pasatieri, and she made a commercial recording of Orff’s Carmina Burana with The Boston Symphony, conducted by Seiji Ozawa.

    Evelyn Mandac – O mio babbino caro – GIANNI SCHICCHI – Met 1976

  • Nicholas di Virgilio: Two Fausts

    Nicholas_di_virgilio

    American tenor Nicholas di Virgilio (above) was a stalwart of the New York City Opera during the Company’s heady time in the late 1960s and early 1970s. Having moved from City Center to the New York State Theatre, and bolstered by the ‘overnight success’ of Beverly Sills, New York City Opera became a true  mecca for opera-lovers, providing serious competition for The Met next-door with a company of wonderful singing-actors and a more adventurous repertoire. I heard literally hundreds of really memorable performances there.

    In addition to his busy operatic career, Mr. di Virgilio was well-known as a concert artist. In 1963, he participated in a performance of Benjamin Britten’s WAR REQUIEM with the Boston Symphony at Tanglewood which has been preserved on DVD; Erich Leinsdorf conducts, and Phyllis Curtin and Tom Krause are the other vocal soloists.

    LeonardBernstein_SMK63152-1489517478-440x440

    Mr. di Virgilio is the tenor soloist in Leonard Bernstein’s 1964 recording of the Beethoven 9th, and the tenor also sang Mozart’s D-minor REQUIEM at a memorial service for President John F Kennedy in January of 1964, under Leinsdorf’s baton; the performance was televised. Composer Dominic Argento dedicated his Six Elizabethan Songs to Nicholas di Virgilio.

    In 1970, at New York City Opera, I chanced to hear Nicholas di Virgilio sing Faust in both the Gounod and Boito settings of the story of an aging philosopher who sells his soul to the devil. I was particularly amazed by his taking the high-C in “Salute demeure” in a lovely piano.

    Nicholas di Virgilio – FAUST aria – NYCO 3

    Nicholas di Virgilio – Da campi dai prati – MEFISTOFELE – NYCO 1970

    ~ Oberon

  • CMS Brandenburgs ~ 2017

    Bach

    Above: the Master of Music, Johann Sebastian Bach

    ~ Author: Oberon

    Tuesday December 19th, 2017 – Chamber Music Society of Lincoln Center‘s annual holiday-season performances of Bach’s immortal Brandenburg Concertos offer an antidote to NUTCRACKER and MESSIAH – not that there’s anything wrong with Tchaikovsky or Handel, to be sure. But the Brandenburgs speak to us without sentimentality or piety: pure music, pure joy.  

    This year marked my fifth CMS Brandenburgs, and as usual the Society have assembled a brilliant ensemble – from beloved Bach specialists to rising stars – to make the season merry and bright:

    Kenneth Weiss, HARPSICHORD • Kristin Lee, Cho-Liang Lin, Daniel Phillips, Danbi Um, VIOLIN • Mark Holloway, Yura Lee, Richard O’Neill, VIOLA • Efe Baltacigil, Nicholas Canellakis, Colin Carr, CELLO • Joseph Conyers, DOUBLE BASS • Robert Langevin, Carol Wincenc, FLUTE • Randall Ellis, James Austin Smith, Stephen Taylor, OBOE • Peter Kolkay, BASSOON • Julie Landsman, Jennifer Montone, HORN • Brandon Ridenour, TRUMPET

    Wu Han, co-Artistic Director of Chamber Music Society, welcomed the packed house with her customary enthusiasm and wit. Does any other Artistic Director on the Gotham scene evince such pride in the organization she heads, in the ‘product’ she dispenses (great music), and in the people – these super-musicians – who make each program so meaningful and enjoyable? The overflow crowd, filling the extra rows of seats installed specially for this program, attest to the fact that she and David Finckel are doing everything right.

    I’ve never before been in a theater when the classic yet ominous line “Is there a doctor in the house?”  comes over the loudspeakers. A gentleman quickly rose and went to see what he could do to help an individual in distress; hopefully it was all resolved to the good.

    Each year at the CMS Brandenburgs, the six concertos are played in a different order: tonight it was the fifth which opened the evening. From the New York Philharmonic, Robert Langevin brought his magic flute to the festivities. In music entwining flute and violin, Mr. Langevin and Cho-Liang Lin were exquisite in matters of subtle dynamics and pristine trills. Cordial playing from the string ‘choir’ – Daniel Phillips (violin), Yura Lee (viola), Colin Carr (cello), and Joseph Conyers (bass) – gave the concerto an appealing, warm resonance. In a dazzling cadenza near the end of this concerto’s opening Allegro, harpsichordist Kenneth Weiss thrilled me with his sparkling dexterity, made all the more alluring with hints of rubato. Although applause between movements is normally unwelcome, I couldn’t blame the audience for breaking in here to salute Mr. Weiss and his colleagues.

    The fifth concerto’s wistful Affetuoso was dreamily played by Mssers. Lin, Langevin, and Weiss. The deeper voices inaugurate the final Allegro, and here is the perfect opportunity to heap praise on the phenomenal Joseph Conyers, whose grand and glorious bass sound was a constant source of pleasure throughout the evening.

    Josephconyers

    Above: Joseph Conyers

    In concerto #6 (B-flat major), violins are absent. Instead, a formidable pair of violists – Yura Lee and Richard O’Neill – face a deluxe trio of cellists (Colin Carr, Efe Baltacigil, and Nicholas Canelakkis) across the music stands. The pulsing Allegro is highlighted by some high-speed coloratura from Mr. Carr; when his fellow cellists join in, watching their swift unison bow-work gave me a smile.

    In the sixth concerto’s Adagio – one of Bach’s most moving creations – commences with Richard O’Neill and Colin Carr (under-pinned by the Conyers bass) poignantly drawing us in. Yura Lee then takes up the theme, and for a few blessed moments, the music gives us a transfusion of hope. Colin Carr’s plush sound here gave a soul-reaching expressiveness. Sublime! But, without a pause, the closing Allegro sweeps us inexorably forward: Mr. Carr and the two violists make music that is fast and fun.

    Carol+Wincec+%281%29

    Above: Carol Wincenc

    The fourth Brandenburg commenced. Flautist Carol Wincenc’s name looms legendary in my pantheon; how wonderful to hear her playing live tonight for only the second time in my experience. Svelte and serene, Ms. Wincenc looked fetching in a ruffled black frock which drew admiring comments from the people sitting around us as she took her bows. Her flute sounds pure and sweet, and in Mr. Langevin she found a duetting partner of equal prestige. Their harmonizing was so elegant, abetted by Mr. Conyers’ amiable bass. Yet another voice is heard: violinist Kristin Lee’s tone mingled with the two flutes in a luminous blend, wondrous and subtle. A petite cadenza from Ms. Wincenc had a shimmering quality.

    For the 4th’s finale, I jotted “Speed Demon” next to Ms. Lee’s name: I vastly enjoyed watching her rapid bowing here: fabulous! The flautists were warbling divinely, and cellist Nick Canellakis contributed his customary polished playing: it felt like these musicians were setting the world to rights. A series of modulations carries the fourth concerto to its finish.

    Following the interval, the second Brandenburg found Danbi Um in the lead, with superb wind playing from Ms. Wincenc, James Austin Smith (oboe), Peter Kolkay (bassoon), and with trumpet virtuoso Brandon Ridenour soaring on high. Cellist Efe Baltacigil’s pacing motif set the stage for a delectable playing of the Andante in which Mlles. Um and Wincenc and Mr. Smith vied to see who could play the sweeter: a ravishing mix of timbres from these great artists. In the concluding Presto, trumpet and oboe matched wits to delight us even further.

    The third concerto, a particular favorite of mine, calls for three violins (Mr. Phillips, Ms. Um, and Kristin Lee), three violas (Richard O’Neill, Mark Holloway, and Yura Lee) and three cellos (Mssrs. Canellakis, Carr, and Baltacigil) whilst the intrepid Kenneth Weiss and Joseph Conyers continued to keep everything vivid. This concerto is unusual in that its Adagio movement consists only of a brief passage from Mr. Phillips’ violin: Bach immediately sends the players back into a swirling Allegro. This evening’s performance of the third showed yet again why the Brandenburgs are so cherished.

    First came last tonight, as the program concluded with the first Brandenburg (in F-major): the one that always reminds me of Handel. The ensemble here features two horns and a trio of oboes. With violinist  Daniel Phillips in charge, Jennifer Montone and Julie Landsman sounded velvety in their harmonized horn calls whilst Stephen Taylor, Randall Ellis, and James Austin Smith piped up to gratifying effect with their oboes, joined by Peter Kolkay on bassoon. Oboe, violin, bassoon, and bass sound the poignant Adagio, then the high horns ring out briskly in the Allegro. You think this concerto is over, but there’s a surprise fourth movement – it veers between Minuet and Polonaise – in which separate choirs of winds and strings summon up rhythms of the dance. This self-fulfilling ‘encore’ gave us a fine opportunity to enjoy Peter Kolkay’s lively bassoon playing.

    ~ Oberon

  • The Orchestra Now: Penderecki & Holst

    Falletta

    Above: conductor JoAnn Falletta, photo by Cheryl Gorski

    ~ Author: Ben Weaver

    Thursday December 14th, 2017 – TŌN (The Orchestra Now) consists of musicians from leading musical conservatoires around the globe, including Julliard, Curtis and Shanghai Conservatory. I’ve heard less impressive and less cohesive playing from big name orchestras. Under the baton of JoAnn Falletta, the concert was a thrilling evening of superb music-making. And filling the entire stage of Alice Tully Hall at Lincoln Center, one was overwhelmed by the sheer impact and presence of their sound. It rather reinforced my belief that David Geffen Hall truly does have dreadful acoustics. Granted, Alice Tully is a much smaller hall, but it’s not the volume alone that impresses. NY Philharmonic can be plenty loud too. It’s feeling the sound envelop you and pins you to your seat that can be truly breathtaking. This does not happen at David Geffen Hall.

    John Adams’ “Short Ride in a Fast Machine” is about five minutes of pure adrenaline. Its percussive opening sets the tone for a repeating loop of fanfares, shrieking woodwinds, and stabbing violins. Adams once described the piece: “You know how it is when someone asks you to ride in a terrific sports car, and then you wish you hadn’t?” Composed in his trademark post-minimalist style, the work constantly shifts, turns, and twists, and the young musicians played it without fear.

    Krzysztof Penderecki is one of the giants of contemporary classical music. His “Concerto Doppio”, completed in 2012, was originally written for violin and viola, but in this TŌN concert the version for violin and cello was performed instead, with soloists Dennis Kim and Roman Mekinulov, respectively.

    Penderecki intended the solo instruments to be adapted to whatever string instruments are needed for the concert, in the style of J.S. Bach perhaps, who allowed arrangements of a lot of his music for different instruments on as-needed basis. This concerto – proving that great music is still being written – begins unusually with an extended duet for the solo instruments. In fact, the entire concerto is something of a conversation between soloists and orchestra. The music alternates from the largely (or entirely) unaccompanied solo instruments back to the orchestra, and so on. The opening minutes had something of Arvo Pärt’s instrumental chanting, and throughout one could grasp influences from Bach and Shostakovich. The concerto’s end reminded me very much of the hushed conclusion of the first movement of Shostakovich’s Symphony No. 4.

    Falletta allowed the excellent soloists, Kim and Mekinulov, to play without conducting them. As so much of their music really is an unaccompanied duet, it allowed the musicians a great deal of flexibility and freedom.

    After the intermission, the orchestra played one of the most popular of all orchestral works: Holst’s “The Planets.” It is appropriate that the concert was given on the day the new Star Wars film, “The Last Jedi,” was released. Hearing the work once again I am struck by how much composer John Williams borrowed from Holst to write the legendary film scores.

    Again, to hear such a great and inventive orchestral work for a large orchestra in a hall like Alice Tully was very exciting. Holst’s endless stream of melodies and remarkable orchestration is a war-horse for a good reason and I do not tire of hearing it. The orchestra played it superbly, relishing every note.

    No doubt many of the musicians were playing it for the first time. I am reminded of a story – perhaps a myth – about Fritz Reiner rehearsing Wagner’s “Die Meistersinger” overture, and one musician kept making a mistake. When Reiner called him out, the musician said: “I am sorry, Maestro, I am playing this for the first time.” Reiner is said to have replied: “Oh, how I envy you.”

    It is not easy to make a work as familiar as “The Planets” sound fresh, but the wonderful young TŌN Orchestra, under JoAnn Falletta’s inspired leadership, not only made it sound fresh, they did it without any noticeable mistakes.

    ~ Ben Weaver

  • The Orchestra Now: Penderecki & Holst

    Falletta

    Above: conductor JoAnn Falletta, photo by Cheryl Gorski

    ~ Author: Ben Weaver

    Thursday December 14th, 2017 – TŌN (The Orchestra Now) consists of musicians from leading musical conservatoires around the globe, including Julliard, Curtis and Shanghai Conservatory. I’ve heard less impressive and less cohesive playing from big name orchestras. Under the baton of JoAnn Falletta, the concert was a thrilling evening of superb music-making. And filling the entire stage of Alice Tully Hall at Lincoln Center, one was overwhelmed by the sheer impact and presence of their sound. It rather reinforced my belief that David Geffen Hall truly does have dreadful acoustics. Granted, Alice Tully is a much smaller hall, but it’s not the volume alone that impresses. NY Philharmonic can be plenty loud too. It’s feeling the sound envelop you and pins you to your seat that can be truly breathtaking. This does not happen at David Geffen Hall.

    John Adams’ “Short Ride in a Fast Machine” is about five minutes of pure adrenaline. Its percussive opening sets the tone for a repeating loop of fanfares, shrieking woodwinds, and stabbing violins. Adams once described the piece: “You know how it is when someone asks you to ride in a terrific sports car, and then you wish you hadn’t?” Composed in his trademark post-minimalist style, the work constantly shifts, turns, and twists, and the young musicians played it without fear.

    Krzysztof Penderecki is one of the giants of contemporary classical music. His “Concerto Doppio”, completed in 2012, was originally written for violin and viola, but in this TŌN concert the version for violin and cello was performed instead, with soloists Dennis Kim and Roman Mekinulov, respectively.

    Penderecki intended the solo instruments to be adapted to whatever string instruments are needed for the concert, in the style of J.S. Bach perhaps, who allowed arrangements of a lot of his music for different instruments on as-needed basis. This concerto – proving that great music is still being written – begins unusually with an extended duet for the solo instruments. In fact, the entire concerto is something of a conversation between soloists and orchestra. The music alternates from the largely (or entirely) unaccompanied solo instruments back to the orchestra, and so on. The opening minutes had something of Arvo Pärt’s instrumental chanting, and throughout one could grasp influences from Bach and Shostakovich. The concerto’s end reminded me very much of the hushed conclusion of the first movement of Shostakovich’s Symphony No. 4.

    Falletta allowed the excellent soloists, Kim and Mekinulov, to play without conducting them. As so much of their music really is an unaccompanied duet, it allowed the musicians a great deal of flexibility and freedom.

    After the intermission, the orchestra played one of the most popular of all orchestral works: Holst’s “The Planets.” It is appropriate that the concert was given on the day the new Star Wars film, “The Last Jedi,” was released. Hearing the work once again I am struck by how much composer John Williams borrowed from Holst to write the legendary film scores.

    Again, to hear such a great and inventive orchestral work for a large orchestra in a hall like Alice Tully was very exciting. Holst’s endless stream of melodies and remarkable orchestration is a war-horse for a good reason and I do not tire of hearing it. The orchestra played it superbly, relishing every note.

    No doubt many of the musicians were playing it for the first time. I am reminded of a story – perhaps a myth – about Fritz Reiner rehearsing Wagner’s “Die Meistersinger” overture, and one musician kept making a mistake. When Reiner called him out, the musician said: “I am sorry, Maestro, I am playing this for the first time.” Reiner is said to have replied: “Oh, how I envy you.”

    It is not easy to make a work as familiar as “The Planets” sound fresh, but the wonderful young TŌN Orchestra, under JoAnn Falletta’s inspired leadership, not only made it sound fresh, they did it without any noticeable mistakes.

    ~ Ben Weaver

  • Janine Jansen and Friends @ Zankel

      Screen Shot 2017-12-19 at 12.47.01 PM

    Above: violinist Janine Jansen

    ~ Author: Scoresby

    Thursday December 7 2017 – This evening had one of the best chamber performances I’ve heard of the year in Carnegie Hall’s Zankel Hall. This commenced violinist Janine Jansen’s six performances as a part of Carnegie Hall’s Perspectives series; where artists of certain acclaim curate concerts in a given season. Ms. Jansen’s will include three chamber music performance (this being one of them), two orchestral performances, and a recital with Jean-Yves Thibaudet. This was the first time I had heard Ms. Jansen in recording or performance, so it was thrilling to hear such a well-programmed concert – though I had heard all the pieces on the program in concert before.

    The performance began with a performance of Bartok’s Contrasts for Violin, Clarinet, and Piano (this recording has Bartok playing along with Benny Goodman, who the piece was written for). Ms. Jansen was on violin, the esteemed Martin Fröst was on clarinet, and Lucas Debargue was on piano. In the first movement’s “recruiting dance”, Ms. Jansen and Mr. Fröst seemed to almost be dancing with each other on stage while playing. Mr. Fröst in particular captured all the jazzy timbres and fun improvisatory sounds – sounding free and loose. Mr. Debargue kept the stormy piano part quiet and atmospheric, never overwhelming the group.

    Capture

    Above: Clarinetist Martin Fröst, photo by Mats Bäcker

    Ms. Jansen provided a rough gritty sound with perfect technique. The second movement brought a different sound world, languid and mysterious. They took a looser approach, letting each line sing. Mr. Debargue captured the folksiness and jazzy rhythms well. The last movement was played with stunning speed and accuracy. While fun through all the various riffs, it sounded a little too rushed. Nonetheless, with big personalities like Ms. Jansen and Mr. Fröst, the fun parts of the piece were giving distinct timbres. Mr. Debargue’s relaxed downward scales sounded contrasted the rougher timbres of Ms. Jansen and Mr. Fröst.

    The second piece on the program was a bit of rarity. Ms. Jansen and Mr. Debargue returned to play Szymanowski’s Mythes for Violin and Piano, Op. 30. For those that don’t know, Szymanowski’s music has a few distinct periods, but his most famous middle period sounds almost like a more radical Debussy with motion. Mr. Debargue played the opening of La Fontaine d’Aréthuse with a delicate color palette and impressionistic quality without making the piano sound too blurry. Ms. Jansen embraced the almost crass strangeness of the violins opening line. For a piece that has this late Debussy sound, one has to embrace all the effects in both instruments for the music to work, and here one couldn’t ask for better interpreters. As the first movement went on to its passionate climax Ms. Jansen seemed to let loose in a way that was missing in the Bartok.

    Screen Shot 2017-12-19 at 12.49.33 PM

    Above: Pianist Lucas Debargue

    The whirr of sound and color was thrilling, followed by a ghostly harmonic sections. Mr. Debargue was equally enjoyable, changing textures every few phrases. I look forward to hearing Mr. Debargue’s newly released Syzmanowski/Schubert album. The third movement, Dyrads and Pan has the violin imitating Pan’s flute for a good portion of the pieces. Through trills, quarter tones, muted sections, natural harmonics and a host of other methods that Syzmanowski dictates Ms. Jansen made the music sound like much more than just a violin. 

    The last piece on the program was The Quartet for the End of Time by Oliver Messiaen. In addition to Mr. Debargue and Ms. Jansen, Martin Fröst returned for the difficult clarinet part and cellist Torleif Thedéen joined on the cello. This is the sort of music that can really only heard live as recordings can’t capture its both apocalyptic and meditative mood in the same way. It also requires utmost coordination between each musician. Of the dozen or so performances I’ve heard in the past three years this was perhaps the best. During the first of eight movements, Mr. Fröst began almost as if he was conducting. His tone small, but his style emphasizing the bird trills. Mr. Debargue made his way softly through the 29 chord cycle that makeup the piano part. The play between Ms. Jansen and Mr. Fröst was again evident here – each seeming to get energy from the other. Nonetheless, they kept the strange mood somber and the atmosphere stagnant. Almost as if one were to walk into a large space and hear some birds chirping and people talking, getting enveloped in it. 

    The second movement brought an entire different style of playing, here letting the apocalyptic element of the piece shine. Mr. Debargue had a rough, almost crass sound explodes out of the quiet atmosphere, announcing the end of time. Mr. Thedéen and Ms. Jansen’s languid duet after maintained the eerie quality of the first movement, meandering through seemingly without direction. To capture these contradictory elements of the music is impressive; the group sounds like it has played together for years and I look forward to hearing their recording of it released earlier this month. One of the more striking aspects of this performance is that all the performers seemed comfortable with Messiaen’s lengthy silences. 

    The third movement is for solo clarinet and the emotional center of the piece. It truly is one of my favorite moments in all of music, so to hear such an excellent clarinet player perform it was moving. Mr. Fröst’s performance was perhaps the quickest I’ve heard in terms of tempo, but it allowed him to make each phrase have more energy and breath. It also made each rest and silence all the more apparent. During the famous long sustained screeches that crescendo from silence to the maximum sound a clarinet can make (only a clarinet can start from complete silence that way), Mr. Fröst’s body seemed to quiver as he approached the maximum sound of his instrument, but that convulsing was perfect for the physicality of the music. During the more active sections in-between each shriek, Mr. Fröst’s fast tempo let the bird-like melodies shine. While all performances sound bird-like, Mr. Fröst’s light tone and nimble trills seemed particularly well suited. 

    The fourth movement is a light interlude and it felt like being sucked out of a trance after the severity of solo clarinet movement. Here, Ms. Jansen, Mr. Fröst, and Mr. Thedéen sounded joyful and played well together. During the passages in unison it felt like they fused into one large instrument. Mr. Thedéen’s low pizzicatos were a delight. Turning back to the meditative mood, the fifth movement is a stunning meandering melody on the cello with a simple piano accompaniment. Mr. Thedéen’s had a drier sound at first, but then settled into a more romantic style by the end. Mr. Debargue played is murmurs on the piano softly, without ever eclipsing the cello. 

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    Above: Cellist Tortleif Thedéen, photo by Nikolaj Lund

    The sixth and seven movements had the best chamber music playing of the night; each member of the quartet seemed fully invested in the music. During the dark sixth which has an extended section with all the instruments playing in unison with the same dynamic markings, not one instrument seemed eclipse another, an incredibly difficult feat. They played up all of the accents and gave a quick, fierce account. After the long introduction, there is a section where the clarinet and piano pound out longer rhythms that eventually take over the piece. Mr. Fröst and Mr. Debargue played this with verve, making each punctuation sound final until another fast break with all the instruments in unison sputtering a drawn out phrase. This contrast made the movement even more dramatic than it typically is. This led into the dissonant seventh movement, where the group seemed to be both aggressive and colorful in their sound. They managed to make it sound darker and more stormy than I’ve heard before.

    The last movement is an extended passage for violin and piano, similar to the cello section. Here though, Ms. Jansen had a slow ringing sound. Mr. Debargue provided a sublime accompaniment. Again, it was easy to slip into a trance with the slow slide up both the violin and piano. After landing in the highest registers of both, Ms. Jansen sounded the last note – but kept her posture as if there was more. This held the audience from applause and everyone sat in the silence of eternity for a full minute before a hearty applause. I wish more musicians captured those sublime moments of quiet after a performance, it felt just as important as the music itself. I look forward to hearing her next performances apart of her Perspectives series on January 18 and January 21.

  • Carol Neblett Has Passed Away

    Snapshot

    One afternoon, while I was working at Tower Records, the phone in the opera room rang. I hated taking phone calls, but it was part of the job. “Is this the opera department?” a woman’s voice asked; I answered in the affirmative. “Are you an opera-lover?” Oh boy, another whack job. “Yes,” I said impatiently. “You might remember me…my name is Carol Neblett.” Relief, and excitement: “Yes, Miss Neblett…I was at your City Opera debut and I remember it like it was yesterday.” “Oh, how sweet of you to say that…!”

    It’s true, too. Her NYCO debut – which was in fact her operatic debut – as Musetta in LA BOHEME in 1969 was simply electrifying. Not only was she a knock-out gorgeous woman with a figure to die for and a mane of rich blonde hair, but the voice was staggeringly large, luminous, and sensuous, with vibrant and blooming top notes. As Musetta, she received three ovations in the course of ten minutes: one after the Waltz, the second after the big ensemble that follows, and the third – so massive I thought the roof might cave in – when she took a solo bow before the curtain.

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    I took this photo of Carol Neblett at a Promenade event at New York City Opera where she sang “Depuis le jour” from LOUISE.

    Carol went on to sing numerous performances with New York City Opera, and I well remember her in the dual roles of Margherita/Helen of Troy in the sensational Tito Capobiano production of Boito’s MEFISTOFELE, opposite Norman Treigle’s riveting portrayal of the devil. The ovations at that production’s premiere were epic, and it put the opera back on the map, with NYCO getting a lot of mileage out of it in the ensuing years.

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    Above: Carol Neblett in a 1970 photo by Bill Hendrickson

    In 1973, Ms. Neblett was a glamourous Ariadne – both vocally and physically – in NYCO’s 1973 production of ARIADNE AUF NAXOS; this production, sung in English/German and brilliantly performed down to the tiniest roles, made ARIADNE my favorite opera…which it remains to this day. Carol’s Yaroslavna (PRINCE IGOR) and Donna Elvira (DON GIOVANNI) at NYCO were both very finely sung and acted.

    Carol Neblett – Mi tradi ~ DON GIOVANNI – NYCO 1972

    Ms. Neblett made her Met debut in 1979 in Jean-Piere Ponnelle’s much-maligned production of DER FLIEGENDE HOLLANDER. She gave 85 performances with the Company, at Lincoln Center and on tour. I saw her as a very exciting Tosca at a matinee in 1981, opposite Jose Carreras and Sherrill Milnes. She looked striking and sang generously as Amelia in BALLO IN MASCHERA opposite Carlo Bergonzi in 1983. I also saw her on The Met stage as Alice Ford in FALSTAFF and in a tour performance as Donna Elvira in Boston in 1981. 

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    Meanwhile, in other parts of the forest, the soprano took on such roles as Turandot, Minnie of the Golden West, Aida, and Norma. Her singing became erratic over time, and she later admitted to alcohol addiction, from which she made a recovery. But her voice remained large and impressive through thick and thin:

    Carol Neblett – Es gibt ein Reich ~ ARIADNE AUF NAXOS – from radio concert

    Carol Neblett – In Questa Reggia ~ TURANDOT – Pittsburgh 1978

    Carol had her fun-loving side, too…here she is on the Johnny Carson Show. The voice is prodigious.

    My final encounter with Carol Neblett in performance came unexpectedly: one morning in October 1992, I was leafing thru the Sunday edition of the Hartford Courant and noticed, purely by chance, that Carol was scheduled to sing a recital at Hartt College that afternoon. On a beautiful Autumn day, I walked for over half-an-hour to the hall, having no idea what to expect.

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    Carol appeared onstage, looked older of course, but still mighty attractive. After some Baroque songs, she sang a really beautiful Brahms set, then the Song to the Moon from RUSALKA, and three gorgeously-done Strauss songs. After the intermission, she sang some very lovely Debussy songs, and then gave a powerhouse performance of Chimène’s magnificent aria “Pleurez, pleurez mes yeux” from Massenet’s LE CID. The printed program concluded with some Spanish songs which suited her well. She sang two encores: the “Vissi d’arte” from TOSCA and “If I Loved You“.

    I can’t remember now why I didn’t go to say hello to her after the recital, and I really regret that I didn’t. Over the ensuing years, memories of her cropped up quite often – especially of the glorious Musetta-debut. And then, that day at Tower, the phone rang.