Author: Philip Gardner

Ensemble Connect Delights @ Weill Hall

Monday October 24th, 2022 – When I saw the announced program for this evening’s concert by Ensemble Connect at Weill Hall, I knew I had to be there: what an enticing line-up of composers…and, in the event, it was all so dazzlingly played!

The young musicians of Ensemble Connect are exceptionally talented; all the music tonight sounded fresh and vibrant. They are also appealing to watch. The works on this well-contrasted program spanned the years from 1717 to 1994, and it was a sonic feast from first note to last.

Above, playing the Martinů: Yasmina Spiegelberg, Garrett Arney, Laura Andrade, and Cort Roberts; photo by Fadi Khier

Bohuslav Jan Martinů’s rarely heard Quartet for Clarinet, Horn, Cello, and Side/Snare Drum, H. 139, dates from 1924. This rather quirky mix of instruments does – as hornist Cort Roberts pointed out in his introductory remarks – represent the four ‘families’ of the symphony orchestra: strings, winds, brass, and percussion. What delightful sounds we heard from Mr. Roberts and his colleagues: Yasmina Spiegelberg (clarinet), Laura Andrade (cello), and Garrett Arney (snare drum).

The work is full of wit and irony, yet in the central Poco Andante comes a poignant lament that is extraordinarily moving. Snare drum and cello lead off the opening Allegro moderato, which becomes march-like as the clarinet and horn join in. A trudging feeling develops, with a horn solo which later shifts to the clarinet. The music seems about to fade away, but there’s a big bang ending.

As the Andante commences, my companion and I were simply blown away by the depth and beauty of tone that cellist Laura Andrade produced. Ms. Andrade played in all four works this evening, and maintained her beautiful sound and sterling musicality at every moment. Ms. Spiegelberg joins the cellist with a rather mysterious air; Mr. Arney’s snare drum comments on the women’s duet, and then Mr. Roberts’ mellow horn sounded a somber theme. The cello solo returns to the touching opening passages, played with heart-rending beauty.

At the jaunty start of the concluding Allegretto, the voices enter one by one: drum, cello, clarinet, horn. The music jogs along, with the horn ringing forth. After the instruments have exchanged lively, wry phrases, there is a little unison coda to round things off. Such a wonderful way to open the evening, and what a stroke of genius on Martinů’s part to center the work on that profound lament.

The petite but hugely talented pianist Joanne Kang now joined the impressive Venezuelan violinist Rubén Rengel and Ms. Andrade for a simply glorious performance of Clara Schumann’s Piano Trio in G-Minor, Op. 17. Their playing was tremendously beautiful and moving, and they are as attractive to watch as to hear; their performance of this masterwork seem so vital and immediate, making it an outstanding musical experience of recent seasons

Clara Schumann’s writing shows a mastery of counterpoint and a heartfelt gift for melody. It’s music alive with romantic ardor. The opening Allegro moderato begins in a melancholy mood, and soon develops a passionate flow of lyricism, with dramatic outbursts along the way adding a sense of urgency. Ms. Kang kept the momentum going with her perfect timing, whilst Mr. Rengel and Ms. Andrade displayed rich, abundant tone as one lustrous theme after another sprang up. The Scherzo – “in the tempo of a minuet” – commences with an elegant passage for violin and piano; it is gentle, pensive music, and again Ms. Andrade’s plush sound warmed the soul.

Ms. Kang lovingly played the Andante‘s waltz-like opening, soon joined by the hushed, poetic sound of Mr. Rengel’s violin; their blend carries them thru captivating harmonies. The music gets a bit wild, only to be calmed by more gorgeousness from the Andrade cello. Achingly beautiful playing from these young artists, with the cellist rounding everything of with a simple descending scale that brought tears to my eyes.

The trio’s final Allegretto brought forth more dazzling playing from the three musicians; Ms. Kang in particular shown here with sumptuous, large-scale playing and – later – passages of glistening arpeggios. Following a mini-fugue, the music gets grand, only to simmer down to a melody of longing, then moving onward to its epic finish. My companion and I were so thrilled by this rapturous performance.

Following the interval, music by the Jamaican-born composer Eleanor Alberga (photo above): her String Quartet No. 2. As violist Halam Kim remarked before the playing started, the entire 18-minute single movement develops from a very brief descending phrase that opens the piece; this Mr. Rengel dashed off for us as an introductory demo: it lasts less than a second.

From its active start, dance-like with dazzling dissonances, the piece moves on with complex harmonies and rhythmic shifts as well as witty touches, such as a repetitive figuration for the 2nd violin (Brian Hong) that made me smile. Mellowing to an andante section laced with enticing harmonies, we arrive at an intriguing passage where tremolo shivers from Mlles. Kim and Andrade underscore an eerily harmonized theme for Mssrs. Rengel and Hong. Ms. Andrade’s knockout cello playing continues to fascinate us, whilst plucked notes from Ms. Kim and Mr. Hong support a high-flying passage for Mr. Rengel’s violin.

Above, playing the Alberga quartet: Rubén Rengel, Brian Hong, Laura Andrade, and Halam Kim; photo by Fadi Kheir

The music dances on, getting dense and with a big buildup until it turns heartfelt and lush; we seem to be headed to the finish line, but…no: a delightful return of the tremolo viola/cello combo with woozy violins pops up before the music’s energetic final measures. The piece was enthusiastically received; I was hoping Ms. Alberga might be among the audience so we could hail her for her colorful, marvelous score.

There was a slight delay before the evening’s concluding piece as a technical glitch with the tablets took some straightening out. Ah, for the simple beauty of a paper score!

Above: the ensemble playing Bach; photo by Fadi Kheir

It was with J. S. Bach’s Brandenburg Concerto No. 5 that the evening closed. The large ensemble featured all the players from earlier in the evening, plus bassoonist Nik Hooks – a player with rich, amiable tone and agile technique – and the proverbially “tall, dark, and handsome” Iranian/Pakistani/American flautist, Amir Farsi: limpid of tone, with a personable presence as he bends and sways to the music. Mr. Hooks and Ms. Andrade provided a very high-class continuo, with Ms. Kim and Mr. Hong the supporting strings. Mr. Rengel and Mr. Farsi played magnificently, and there was truly a sense of magic in the hall as the performance unfolded.

Above, Joanne Kang at the harpsichord for the Bach; photo by Fadi Kheir

Of course, this is “the Brandenburg with the harpsichord”, and Mr. Kang gave us a fleet-fingered and fabulous rendition of the long cadenza. The audience, and her colleagues, could not resist breaking in with applause for her stunning playing, one of the highlights of the evening. Other treats in the Bach were the poignant blending of Mr. Rengel’s violin with Mr. Farsi’s flute in the Affetuoso, and the light and lively finale wherein Ms. Andrade and Mr. Hooks put the continuo in the spotlight.

Above, the principal players for the Bach: Rubén Rengel, Joanne Kang, and Amir Farsi; photo by Fadi Kheir

Such a pleasing and deeply satisfying evening! For two hours, the woes of the world and the cares of daily life were forgotten. A thousand thanks to these dedicated musicians, and to the music that makes life worth living.

All photos by Fadi Kheir, courtesy of Carnegie Hall.

October 24, 2022
Midori: Bach ~ Chaconne

Midori plays the Chaconne from Bach’s Partita #2, filmed at Castle Köthen, where the sonatas and partitas for solo violin were written.

Watch and listen here.

October 23, 2022
Goderdzi Janelidze ~ Prince Gremin’s Aria

Georgian basso Goderdzi Janelidze sings Prince Gremin’s aria from Tchaikovsky’s EUGEN ONEGIN.

Watch and listen here.

October 23, 2022
Goderdzi Janelidze ~ Prince Gremin’s Aria

Georgian basso Goderdzi Janelidze sings Prince Gremin’s aria from Tchaikovsky’s EUGEN ONEGIN.

Watch and listen here.

October 22, 2022
Elīna Garanča ~ Alto Rhapsody

Elīna Garanča sings Johannes Brahms’ Alto Rhapsody with Christian Thielemann conducting. The performance took place at the Salzburg Festival on July 30th, 2022.

Watch and listen here.

October 21, 2022
Vengerov/Osetinskaya @ Carnegie Hall ~ 2022

Above: Maxim Vengerov

Thursday October 20, 2022 – In February 2020, just days before life-altering pandemic commenced, Maxim Vengerov and Polina Osetinskaya gave a memorable recital at Carnegie Hall. This evening, they were back on the Carnegie stage with another enticing program.

But our evening did not quite go as planned. First, a 20-minute delay of the start of the concert caused the audience to become restless. Then, during the music, the women behind me chatted whilst a woman next to me fell asleep and snored lightly. Then, about 90 seconds before the end of the Kreutzer sonata, a woman stood up and struggled over the people in her row to get to the aisle. My friend Dima, who is Russian, always says ‘Russian audiences are the worst’; we decided to have a late supper rather than endure more distractions. It was kind of sad to leave, because Mr. Vengerov and Ms. Osetinskaya really were playing divinely.

The artists finally took the stage, Mr. Vengerov rather oddly clad in what appeared to be a bulky blue sweater and matching trousers. Ms. Osetinskaya on the other had was a vision of elegance in a black frock which perfectly showed off her lithe figure.

J. S. Bach Violin Sonata No. 1 in B-Minor, BWV 1014, is different from many other works for violin and harpsichord from this era, because the right hand of the harpsichord is fully written out by Bach. Up to this point in time, it had been customary for only the left hand and the chords for the keyboard to be specified. But BWV 1014 changed the relationship of the instruments: the harpsichord would now be equal to the violin, not merely an accompaniment. The harpsichord thus became a second melodic voice, changing the art of the violin sonata forever.

Of course, Ms. Osetinskaya was at the Steinway rather than a harpsichord; her playing of the Bach was simply exquisite, though – in fact – she surpassed herself in the ensuing Beethoven. It is the piano that opens the Bach sonata with a really gorgeous passage, and then the violin enters on a long, soft-suspended tone. Throughout the sonata, the two artists’ dynamic modulations were perfectly in sync.

The first Allegro is lively and charming, and the Andante – with its hushed, sustained start – has a fine, dignified feeling. The minor-key finale is fast and fun, with the two players keenly tuned into one another as the music hastens along.

The artists took only a momentary break – not leaving the stage – before commencing their luminous rendering of Beethoven’s immortal Violin Sonata No. 9 in A-Major, Op. 47, “Kreutzer“.

The sonata begins with a slow introduction played by the solo violin. The piano then responds, Ms. Osetinskaya displaying a gracious subtlety. Mood swings now come into play: passages of animation alternate with more pensive phrases. The music gets almost angry before the composer reverts to the calm of the sonata’s opening.

Ms. Osetinskaya launches the familiar theme of the Andante with a softly rippling motif. Now comes a delicious set of variations in which the ravishing sound of the piano sustains each mood and meshes with Mr. Vengerov’s sweetly turned phrases, his whisper-light top notes, and fabulous trills.

From its sprightly start, the third movement, a tarantella based on another familiar theme, calls for great virtuosity from both players: “Tons of notes!!”, I scrawled on my Playbill. The sonata ends with a celebratory final rush. The audience gave the musicians a resounding ovation though, in fact, they deserved even more.

Mr. Vengerov is scheduled to return to Carnegie Hall on Sunday May 21st, 2023, for a Concert in Honor of Andrei Sakharov. Gidon Kremer, Steve Isserlis, Evgeny Kissin, Lera Auerbach, and the Emerson String Quartet willm also take part.

Now if we could just get Ms. Osetinskaya here for a concerto evening, or – better still – a solo recital…!

We headed out, sorry to miss the arrangements of six songs from Dmitri Shostakovich’s marvelous song cycle, From Jewish Folk Poetry; these songs are so dear to me.

~ Oberon

October 20, 2022
Fouad Boussouf’s NÄSS @ The Joyce

Tuesday October 18th, 2022 – An exhilarating evening at The Joyce as choreographer Fouad Boussouf brought his handsome Company of dancers from his native Morocco to thrill us with Näss. The title is Arabic for “people”, and it’s a work where eclectic dance styles converge effortlessly, combining restless, relentless activity with a feeling of ancient masculine rituals. For an hour, the seven men danced to rhythmically wide-ranging music, with perfect timing and synchronization; though clearly carefully structured and well-rehearsed, Näss feels wonderfully and thoroughly spontaneous.

The dancers in Näss are Sami Blond, Mathieu Bord, Maxime Cozic, Yanice Djae, Loïc Elice, Justin Gouin, and Maëlo Hernandez.

Above, photo by Charlotte Audureau

The curtain rises on a totally darkened stage. Very slowly, the back panel is illuminated with the dancers ranged in a line-up, backs to the audience. Mingled with the sounds of street noise noise and garbled talking, angel voices are heard. Drumming strikes up and the men begin moving in place, stepping to the beat.

Suddenly, they burst into movement, stomping and romping about the space. Unison moves, with gestures of supplication, are mingled with free-flowing solo passages and duets which vary in feeling from humorous to wildness.

Above photo by Charlotte Audureau

The lighting takes on a golden hue; the men’s jackets are slowly shed and each is wearing a loose t-shirt of autumnal solour. Going into breakdance mode, they give us headstands and intricate floor motifs executed with panache. The t-shirts become part of the dance: they are pulled up to cover the men’s faces and expose their abs as the light fades a bit and a sense of calm is briefly felt. The dancers start talking.

Then a quintet of men step-dancing in unison circle the stage in almost military precision whilst two others dance a pas de deux in their own world. The brotherhood then tramp about the space with heavy-footed accents. The lighting shifts, providing shadowplay.

The dancers move upstage, clustered with backs to us; they become silhouettes as the music fades and the lighting is slowly extinguished until they vanish into the darkness from whence they came.

As silence fell there was a very brief lull before a house-wide standing ovation commenced. People screamed and shrieked as the dancers came out for their bows. Great atmosphere! Then the seven men began striking poses along the edge of the stage, and they commenced an impromptu encore, clapping their hands to set the pace. The audience picked up the rhythm, clapping and stomping. It was like being at a revival meeting where everyone has been saved. I felt high as a kite.

Photo: Charlotte Audureau

~ Oberon

October 19, 2022
Fouad Boussouf’s NÄSS @ The Joyce

Tuesday October 18th, 2022 – An exhilarating evening at The Joyce as choreographer Fouad Boussouf brought his handsome Company of dancers from his native Morocco to thrill us with Näss. The title is Arabic for “people”, and it’s a work where eclectic dance styles converge effortlessly, combining restless, relentless activity with a feeling of ancient masculine rituals. For an hour, the seven men danced to rhythmically wide-ranging music, with perfect timing and synchronization; though clearly carefully structured and well-rehearsed, Näss feels wonderfully and thoroughly spontaneous.

The dancers in Näss are Sami Blond, Mathieu Bord, Maxime Cozic, Yanice Djae, Loïc Elice, Justin Gouin, and Maëlo Hernandez.

Above, photo by Charlotte Audureau

The curtain rises on a totally darkened stage. Very slowly, the back panel is illuminated with the dancers ranged in a line-up, backs to the audience. Mingled with the sounds of street noise noise and garbled talking, angel voices are heard. Drumming strikes up and the men begin moving in place, stepping to the beat.

Suddenly, they burst into movement, stomping and romping about the space. Unison moves, with gestures of supplication, are mingled with free-flowing solo passages and duets which vary in feeling from humorous to wildness.

Above photo by Charlotte Audureau

The lighting takes on a golden hue; the men’s jackets are slowly shed and each is wearing a loose t-shirt of autumnal solour. Going into breakdance mode, they give us headstands and intricate floor motifs executed with panache. The t-shirts become part of the dance: they are pulled up to cover the men’s faces and expose their abs as the light fades a bit and a sense of calm is briefly felt. The dancers start talking.

Then a quintet of men step-dancing in unison circle the stage in almost military precision whilst two others dance a pas de deux in their own world. The brotherhood then tramp about the space with heavy-footed accents. The lighting shifts, providing shadowplay.

The dancers move upstage, clustered with backs to us; they become silhouettes as the music fades and the lighting is slowly extinguished until they vanish into the darkness from whence they came.

As silence fell there was a very brief lull before a house-wide standing ovation commenced. People screamed and shrieked as the dancers came out for their bows. Great atmosphere! Then the seven men began striking poses along the edge of the stage, and they commenced an impromptu encore, clapping their hands to set the pace. The audience picked up the rhythm, clapping and stomping. It was like being at a revival meeting where everyone has been saved. I felt high as a kite.

Photo: Charlotte Audureau

~ Oberon

October 18, 2022
FAUST ~ Final Trio: Scotto/Kraus/Ghiaurov

Renata Scotto, Alfredo Kraus, and Nicolai Ghiaurov sing the final trio from Gounod’s FAUST from a performance given at Tokyo in 1973.

Watch and listen here.

September 29, 2022
@ The Met’s Opening Night ~ MEDEA

Tuesday September 27th, 2022 – The Metropolitan Opera opened their 2022-2023 season this evening with the Met premiere of Cherubini’s MEDEA. Originally performed in French – the opera’s world premiere took place on March 13th, 1797, at the Théâtre Feydeau in Paris – MEDEA in its Italian version became one of Maria Callas’s greatest triumphs.

This was my fourth time experiencing MEDEA in the theatre. In 1974, the New York City Opera staged the work for their premiere singing-actress, Maralin Niska, who was magnificent in the role. Incredibly, in 1982, the Company offered another new production of the work – somewhat more timeless in feeling – with Grace Bumbry very effective in the title-role. In 1987, the opera was given in Bridgeport, Connecticut, in a traditional setting; Gilda Cruz-Romo sang Medea. Gilda, a longtime favorite of mine, was not ideally suited to the role but she still had plenty of voice a her disposal; it was the last time I ever saw her onstage.

Met Opening Night tickets being prohibitively expensive, I took a score desk for this performance; I plan to go a second time to have a view of the sets and costumes. This evening was a huge personal triumph for Sondra Radvanovsky; singing to a sold out house – a real rarity at The Met in this day and age – she won a thunderous ovation of the kind singers like Tebaldi, Nilsson, Rysanek, and Dame Gwyneth Jones used to garner. Sondra deserved every decibel, for she threw herself into the difficult and demanding role with total commitment.

The evening opened with the national anthem. I have always love singing it, but when we came to the words “…o’er the land of the free…” and was suddenly overcome with grief. We seem to be rushing headlong to our doom as a great democracy; I am hoping I won’t live long enough to experience the bitter end.

MEDEA itself is maddeningly uneven: thrilling passages – mainly for the title-character – alternate with routine music; conductor Carlo Rizzi led a performance that was more dutiful than inspired. It was in the individual singers that the evening made its musical impact; chorus and orchestra played a vital role in keeping the opera afloat when the main characters were otherwise occupied.

Matthew Polenzani’s Giasone is quite different from that of such earlier stalwarts in this music as Jon Vickers and James McCracken: more lyrical and thus more vulnerable. Polenzani sang beautifully, and his voice carried perfectly in the big hall. His expressive range veered from poetic (with his bride) to defiant (dealing with his ex-), to ultimate despair as he watched his entire world go up in flames.

Janai Brugger’s Glauce made much of what is a rather ungrateful role; Glauce has a very demanding aria early in the opera and thereafter is eclipsed both musically and dramatically by her rival, Medea. Ms. Brugger’s voice sails easily into the hall, and she combined full-toned lyricism with technical assurance.

Michele Pertusi has had a long and distinguished career, and tonight, as Creon, he was most impressive. The voice is steady and sure, and it fills the house. It’s always wonderful to hear a native Italian making the most of the words. Pertusi’s Creon was outstanding, establishing real authority.

I had previously experienced Ekaterina Gubanova as a powerful Cassandra in a concert performance of LES TROYENS, and as Brangaene in a concert version of Act II of TRISTAN UND ISOLDE where she sounded a bit taxed in her upper range. Tonight, as Medea’s faithful companion, Neris, Ms. Gubanova was superb. Her poignant aria, with its haunting bassoon accompaniment, was the musical centerpiece of the evening. The singer seemed to hold the house under a spell as she sang of her devotion to her mistress, winning warm applause at the aria’s end, and an enthusiastic round of bravas at her bows.

Mille bravi! to Met principal bassoonist Evan Epifanio for his gorgeously mellow playing in Neris’s aria; he and Ms. Gubanova ideally complimented one another.

Witnessing the Radvanovsky triumph was vastly pleasing to me, as I have been a great admirer of the diva since her days as a Met Young Artist. In her many performances that I’ve experienced, she has always seemed to have a unique gift for making opera seem important. Sondra’s dynamic range is her greatest gift: the incredible focus and power of her highest notes can be followed moments later by a shimmeringly “alive” pianissimo. And she has an enthralling stage presence: a fearless actress, she seems to become the woman she is portraying. All this made her Medea a holy terror.

Medea makes a sneaky entrance, and soon she is alone with her former lover/husband, to whom she pours out her emotions in the great aria “Dei tuoi figli la madre…“; here, the Radvanovsky voice ranges from extraordinary tenderness to blind fury. I might have wished for a more chesty expression at “Nemici senza cor!” (Sondra really opened the chest range in Act II!) but the soprano knew what she was about. Polenzani gave a powerful response, eliciting a blistering, sustained top note from the furious sorceress. They quarreled on, to brilliant effect.

Act II commences without a break (thank god they didn’t bring up the houselights to quarter!) and Sondra, who had had a couple of throaty notes in Act I, was now blazing away on all cylinders, the voice fresh as can be, and the increasing use of chest voice adding to the thrills. Medea’s pleadings to Creon to be given one more day in Corinth cover a wide range of cajoling and deceit…Sondra and Mr. Pertusi were electrifying here. And when she won, Sondra celebrated her success: Medea now has time to work her destructive spells.

Following Neris’s gorgeous aria, sounds of the wedding ceremony are heard, with the chorus invoking the gods to bless Glauce and Giasone. Medea counters this with diabolical mutterings of her own, cursing the crowd with a starkly chested “Rabia infernal!“. Then, suddenly, she sails up to a vibrant final phrase. I admit I was kind of hoping Sondra would “take the fifth” here, as Callas sometimes did, but that notion was lost in the barrage of applause.

Act III is only about 30 minutes long, and is preceded by an over-long prelude. Sondra again stuns us with her powerful “Numi, venite a me!” and then gives us her finest, most magical singing of the evening with “Del fiero duol!” capped by en enormous high note. Polenzani, maddened by grief, assails her: “Our sons! What was their crime that they deserved to die?”…to which she answers, “They were your children!”

I stood up from my desk to watch the finale: flames are licking at the walls of the temple; the corpses of the two boys are lying on the floor upstage. Medea delivers her final line to Giasone: “Al sacro fiume io vo! Colà t’aspetta l’ombra mia!” (“I go to the sacred river…there, my shade will await you!”) and moves slowly to her dead sons. She settles herself between them, taking their bodies in her arms as the entire temple is engulfed in flames.

There’s a video of tonight’s finale – and the curtain calls – that is a wonderful souvenir of the evening. However, having been recorded on a cellphone, it gives no idea of the sheer volume and depth of the sound of a full-house standing ovation at The Met. To Sondra, it must have felt like being hit by an avalanche of affection. Watch here.

~ Oberon

September 27, 2022