Category: Music

Janine Jansen and Friends @ Zankel

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.

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.

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.

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.

December 18, 2017
The Orchestra Now: Penderecki & Holst

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

December 18, 2017
Carol Neblett Has Passed Away

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

November 25, 2017
Kitty Carlisle

When I was a kid, everybody knew who Kitty Carlisle was: a panelist on the popular TV game show To Tell The Truth. But I had no idea she was also a singer. Born in New Orleans in 1910, she had studied voice there and subsequently appeared in musicals – and even as Carmen (in Salt Lake City). She made several musically-oriented films, including the Marx Brothers’ A NIGHT AT THE OPERA.

In the summer of 1966, my parents took me for our annual summer vacation to Saratoga where Eugene Ormandy was conducting a concert performance of FLEDERMAUS with the Philadelphia Orchestra. The main attraction for me was the presence of Hilde Gueden, Roberta Peters, and Barry Morell in the cast. Kitty’s being cast as Prince Orlofsky seemed like a gimmick to me, but she actually sang very well.

Above: as Prince Orlofsky, in a Louis Melançon/Met Opera portrait

Later that same year, Kitty Carlisle made her Met debut as Orlofsky. I sent her a congratulatory letter and received the card at the top of this article in return. She sang the role fifteen times with The Met, at Lincoln Center, on tour, and in the Parks Series. In 1980 she appeared in the role for the final time for Beverly Sills’ farewell gala at the New York State Theater.

Kitty dated George Gershwin and married Moss Hart. She served for twenty years on the New York State Council on the Arts, and was seen often among audiences at Lincoln Center events. I saw her once, walking alone across The Met lobby: she must have been 80 or so, but her erect posture, jet black hair, and elegant outfit gave her a timeless air. Kitty Carlisle passed away in 2007.

And yes, she really could sing:

Kitty Carlisle – Vilja ~ THE MERRY WIDOW

November 24, 2017
Huang|Noseda|New York Philharmonic

Above: The New York Philharmonic’s concertmaster Frank Huang

~ Author: Oberon

Wednesday November 22nd, 2017 – The announcement of the death of the great Russian baritone Dmitri Hvorostovsky coloured my entire day. It came, by unhappy coincidence, on the anniversary of the assassination of John F Kennedy which took place in 1963: the most disturbing world-event of my youth. That brutal murder – and its aftermath – I still remember so clearly.

This evening, I went as planned to The New York Philharmonic‘s program of Russian and French works. Though I was in the mood for darker, more soul-reaching music, the program – magnificently played – did lift my spirits, if only temporarily.

As far as I know, Mr. Hvorostovsky appeared with The New York Philharmonic for only one program: in 1998, he sang Mahler’s Kindertotenlieder with the orchestra. I was there, and was swept away by the peerless beauty of his voice and by his deeply poetic interpretation. How I wished he could have been with us again tonight. But the program did commence with music from Hvorostovsky’s homeland: a suite from Nicolai Rimsky-Korsakov’s opera The Legend of the Invisible City of Kitezh. It ended up being my best-loved work of the evening and it was brilliantly delivered by the Philharmonic players, under Gianandrea Noseda’s baton.

Hearing music from The Legend of the Invisible City of Kitezh brought back memories of a day in 1983 when I stepped off a bus in Boston on a Sunday afternoon and began walking towards the opera house where the Rimsky-Korsakov opera was being performed at a matinee. Suddenly the sky opened up; no store that was open sold umbrellas. I made a run for it, but was literally drenched from head to toe by the time I got to the theatre. Needless to say, I did not enjoy the performance at all, and left at intermission…still soaking wet.

The suite from The Legend of the Invisible City of Kitezh is in four movements, depicting episodes from the opera: a Hymn to Nature, Fevronia’s wedding procession, the invasion of the Tatars and the subsequent battle, and Fevronia’s Ascension to the Invisible. It begins on a sombre note, with harps adding a touch of magic. Throughout the suite, solo wind passages abound; Maestro Noseda brought out these colouristic facets, and the Philharmonic artists played them delightfully.

A broad viola theme stands out, and the percussionists are kept on their toes with bells, chimes,and glockenspiel in addition to the timpani, bass, and snare drums that come to attention for the battle scenes. The suite was an excellent program-opener.

It’s always a great pleasure when principals from the Philharmonic step into the concerto spotlight. Tonight, concertmaster Frank Huang performed Camille Saint-Saëns’ Violin Concerto No. 3 – my first time hearing it live. The concerto begins without an orchestral introduction; instead, only quiet, darkish chords provide a background for the rather harsh opening phrases of the violin. Mr. Huang’s playing here seemed a little unsettled, with traces of sharpness of pitch. But within seconds, the violinist had settled into the music and gave a really impressive, technically assured performance.

As the concerto’s first movement develops, there are dramatic contrasts between full-bodied, passionate themes and more sedate passages. There is a sense of yearning in the music which Mr. Huang conveyed to perfection. In the Andantino which follows, the composer meshes the solo violin with winds in music with an elegant air.

The concluding movement begins with a slow introduction and some almost jagged interjections from the violin. The Allegro non troppo itself is launched with an up-sweeping motif for the solo violin. Passages of coloratura for the soloist alternate with more lyrical elements; then commences a surprising cantabile, where Mr. Huang’s beauty of tone was ravishingly engaging. Pages of virtuosic writing show off the soloist’s fluent technique, and hints of gypsy passion are thrown in. The leaping violin theme returns and is most welcome. An orchestral chorale is an innovative detour before the concerto sails on to a bravura finish. Mr. Huang was rightly accorded a prolonged ovation from the audience whilst his onstage colleagues tapped their bows and stamped their feet in acclaim.

Above: Gianandrea Noseda

Rachmaninoff’s Symphony No. 3, under Maestro Noseda’s baton, followed the interval. Like so many symphonic works, its a piece I’m not really familiar with, and I must say, I felt slightly disappointed with it musically. It’s all terribly impressive and enjoyable to hear, but the emotions are rarely engaged. Perhaps it was just my mood, but I kept longing for a deeper experience.

That said, the artists of the Philharmonic played it most impressively. And it is to them that I owe thanks for moving or thrilling me on this evening: to Mr. Huang of course, but also to other players who had prominent passages tonight: Sheryl Staples (violin), Yoobin Son and Mindy Kaufman (flute/piccolo), Sherry Sylar (oboe), Pascual Martinez Forteza (clarinet), Kim Laskowski (bassoon), and Amy Zaloto (bass clarinet).

Encouraged by the great success of his Rhapsody on a Theme of Paganini (1934), Rachmaninoff started work on his third symphony in the summer of 1935. Leopold Stokowski and the Philadelphia Orchestra gave the premiere on November 6, 1936. It was not well-received by the audience, nor by the press. Perhaps, as with those early auditors, I need to hear it a few more times to cultivate a more positive reaction.

There are countless appealing passages – a cello tutti was especially beautiful – and the final movement’s journey from optimism thru a vale of doubt and the onward via a meditative passage to a ringing conclusion evoked a big response from the Geffen Hall audience.

~ Oberon

November 23, 2017
Dmitri Hvorostovsky Has Passed Away

One of the era’s few true titans of the opera world, Dmitri Hvorostovsky, has passed away at the age of 55.

It’s possible I was the first person in the Americas to hear the voice of Dmitri Hvorostovsky. Within a week of his historic Cardiff Singer of the World win in 1989, my dear friend Mollie sent me tapes of the competition – which had produced the famous ‘Battle of the Baritones’ as Dima and Bryn Terfel vied for the top prize. They both won: Hvorostovsky the main title and Bryn took the Lieder Prize; they both went on to spectacular careers.

His Cardiff win sent the charismatic Russian singer on a career trajectory that took him to the great opera houses and concert stages of the world. He was beloved by audiences everywhere.

At The Met, Hvorostovsky made his debut in 1995 as Prince Yeletsky in PIQUE-DAME. He went on to sing nearly 200 performances with the Company. I had the good fortune of seeing him often in such roles as Belcore in ELISIR, Germont, Posa, Andrei in WAR & PEACE, Onegin, Renato in BALLO IN MASCHERA, Count di Luna, Simon Boccanegra, Carlo in ERNANI, and Rigoletto.

In 2015, already in treatment for a brain tumor, Hvorostovsky made a heroic effort to come to New York City to sing three performances as Count di Luna in TROVATORE; the audience greeted him with fervent affection, and he sang beautifully.

Above: fantastic moment as Dima greets fans after his 2015 Count di Luna at The Met.

In February 2016, I saw Hvorostovsky for what was to be the final time: in recital at Carnegie Hall. On May 7th, 2017, he appeared on The Met stage for the last time: at a gala marking The Met’s 50th season at Lincoln Center, Dima made an unannounced appearance, singing the “Cortigiani!” from RIGOLETTO.

Three times prior to that last Carnegie recital, I heard Hvorostovsky in concert settings. The first was at Symphony Hall in Boston where, in 1995, he gave an all-Russian program with chorus; as an encore, he sang “America the Beautiful” – gorgeously – and took a high A (or was it a B-flat?) at the climax that was simply thrilling. The entire afternoon was a feast of splendid singing.

In 1998, soon after I’d moved to New York City, Hvorostovsky sang Mahler’s Kindertotenlieder with the New York Philharmonic. The music suited him to perfection. And in April 2010, he joined soprano Sondra Radvanovsky in a program of arias and duets at Carnegie Hall: two of the truly distinctive artists of our time.

Looking back:

Dmitri Hvorostovsky – BALLO aria – Cardiff 1989

Dmitri Hvorostovsky – In The Stillness of the Silent Night~Rachmaninoff – Cardiff 1989

More of The Voice:

PECHEURS DES PERLES – duet – Paul Groves & Dmitri Hvorostovsky – Tucker Gala 1995

Hvorostovsky – TROVATORE aria – Tucker Gala 1995

Dmitri Hvorostovsky & Rene Pape – DON CARLO scene – Met 2006

Hvorostovsky – arias from PRINCE IGOR and ERNANI – BBC Proms 2006

As Eugene Onegin:

Dmitri Hvorostovsky – ONEGIN aria

Portrait of the artist as a young man:

I met Dmitri Hvorostovsky only once, very briefly. I was leaving work at Tower Records as he and his wife were coming in. I spontaneously held out my hand and he grasped it firmly and gave me a smile. Neither of us said a word.

Dmitri Hvorostovsky – Tchaikovsky ~ None But The Lonely Heart

November 21, 2017
TURANDOT @ The Met

Above: Hei-Kyung Hong as Liu in a Beatriz Schiller/Met Opera photo

~ Author: Oberon

Thursday November 16th, 2017 – I invited my friend Claudia Schreier to this evening’s performance of TURANDOT at The Met; I wanted her to experience one of last truly grand opera productions in the Met’s repertory. The presence in the cast of Hei-Kyung Hong as Liu was a major factor in choosing this particular evening.

As at every performance of TURANDOT I’ve attended in the past 30 years, the house was packed. And, as at every Hei-Kyung Hong performance I have attended at The Met, the soprano’s presence in the cast drew large numbers of Asian opera fans. It turned out to be – yet again – Ms. Hong’s night.

The evening got off to a sluggish start: Carlo Rizzi’s pacing of the Mandarin’s opening address was slower than the MTA and caused baritone Jeongcheol Cha to dig deep for sufficient breath to sustain the phrases of his proclamation. Later, Rizzi thoughtlessly allowed too much orchestral volume at times, undermining expressive opportunities for his singers.

The towering figure of Bulgarian basso Giorgi Kirof as Timur (above, taking a curtain call) came onto the scene; in his Met debut, Mr. Kirof’s looming stature gave Ms. Hong’s petite figure as Liu an almost childlike aspect. The basso – a stalwart of the Sofia National Opera – gave a vocally moving performance, reaching emotional heights in the heartbreak of “Liù…Liù…sorgi! È l’ora chiara d’ogni risveglio!” which literally choked me up.

Alexey Lavrov was a terrific Ping, with a big, warm sound; his “Ho una casa nell’Honan…” was superbly sung. As his sidekicks Pang and Pong, Tony Stevenson and Eduardo Valdes gave characterful singing. I actually love the scene of the three ministers, which Puccini orchestrated so precisely. As the Emperor Altoum, Ronald Naldi’s voice ‘spoke’ clearly – all the way from Amsterdam Avenue.

Aleksandrs Antonenko had a fine evening as Calaf. He measures out the voice thoughtfully in Act I, saving up for the arduous singing ahead. But his “Non piangere, Liu” was finely judged, revealing veins of beauty in his powerhouse voice. Throughout the Riddle Scene, the tenor scored with dramatically-lit singing, and joined Oksana Dyka’s Turandot on a firm and sustained high-C at the end of “In questa reggia“. Mr. Antonenko also took – and held – a strong high-C at “No, no, Principessa altera! ti voglio ardente d’amor!“

Mr. Antonenko’s “Nessun dorma” was persuasively sung, reveling in the music’s inherent lyricism; he pulled off the climactic phrase impressively and managed to both acknowledge and forestall a wave of ‘bravos!’ by holding up his hand, letting the opera flow forward. The tenor’s singing in the final duet was first-rate, with some lovely expressions of tenderness as Turandot succumbed to him.

Oksana Dyka’s voice is slender of tone yet strong of projection. The top range doesn’t blossom but the notes are there; it took a few phrases for the sound to shake loose. As she moved downstage in the course of “In questa reggia” the voice began to speak into the house with increasing effect. Her Riddle Scene was filled with characterful expression: fire and ice. Following her collapse and her desperate plea to her father, the scene turned dramatically absorbing.

Ms. Dyka, her hair down and nearly prone with despair, is literally overcome with wonderment when Calaf/Antonenko offers her a way out of the bargain. She simply stares at him, realizing that this is a different kind of man than she’s accustomed to dealing with. Then he gently helps her to her feet. The chemistry between the two singers here was genuine; I’ve never seen that moment done quite that way.

Ms. Dyka’s voice seemed freer in Act III, and she was sustaining the phrases more and reveling in the upper range notes, holding them to generate increased excitement. Her “Del primo pianto” was movingly sung, opening up her humanity which has been bound in ice for so long. In the final moments of the opera, the soprano’s “Padre augusto…Conosco il nome dello straniero! Il suo nome è…Amor!” had a silvery gleam and a prolonged top-B.

Hei-Kyung Hong’s Liu has captivated audiences time and again in her long Met career. As someone who has seen and heard so many splendid sopranos essay the role of Liu – people like Moffo, Freni and Caballe – I feel Hei-Kyung’s stands at the pinnacle both for her physical perfection and her deeply moving singing.

If her Wikipedia page is accurate, Hei-Kyung is now 58 years old. Her voice has retained its freshness thanks to her wisdom in choosing repertoire. Tonight both the beauty of her sound and the instinctive rightness of her phrasing gave the music a deeply feminine quality; she also has a feeling for the Italianate style that escapes many non-Italian-born singers. Both her arias were as finely sung as I’ve ever heard them, and her death scene was truly heart-rending. She received a vociferous ovation, very much deserved.

All evening, the Met Orchestra made marvelous music, with particular magic from the violin of concertmaster David Chan who made so many of his phrases shine. Likewise, the chorus were at their most fervent and full-voiced.

Above: Act I production photo by Marty Sohl/Met Opera

Some of the original staging has been altered and to me this weakens the overall effect of the opera. And the crowd scenes seem less crowded than in the past. The 45-minute intermission after the 35-minute first act would have been unbearable had I not had the one-and-only Claudia Schreier to keep me company.

Catch the curtain calls here, with the charming episode of the “missed bouquet”.

~ Oberon

November 16, 2017
David Finckel and Wu Han

Above: David Finckel and Wu Han, photo by Cherylynn Tsushima

Due to the severe wind and rainstorm on Sunday, I had to miss the Chamber Music Society of Lincoln Center‘s program featuring Tamara Mumford and the Escher String Quartet. I was there in spirit.

I did want to draw everyone’s attention to this wonderful article about Chamber Music’s Society’s co-Artistic Directors, Wu Han and David Finckel. They are two of my favorite players and personalities in the music world, and it’s enlightening (and fun!) to read more about them.

~ Oberon

October 29, 2017
Pianist George Li @ Weill Hall
Above: George Li

~ Author: Oberon

Friday October 27th, 2017 – I first heard the young Chinese-American pianist George Li when he appeared at the 2015 Young Concert Artists gala; read about his marvelous performance here. Tonight I was glad of an opportunity to hear Mr. Li again, in a solo recital at Weill Hall.

Small of stature, the 21-year-old pianist is a titan of talent. In a well-devised program this evening, he captivated his large and very attentive audience with playing on the grand scale: and while he is capable of massive volume and of veritable thunderbolts hurled from the keyboard’s lower octaves, Mr. Li also shows expert dynamic control in nuanced phrases and great sensitivity in passages of poetic expression.

Mr. Li’s choice of Haydn to open his program proved ideal. In the composer’s B-Minor Sonata (1776), the pianist was able, within moments, to display his broad dynamic range. The opening Allegro moderato alternated subtle turns of phrase with full-bodied, emphatic motifs. The sonata’s Minuet, a simple melody, turns somewhat grander in the trio section; Mr. Li delineated this shift to perfection. In the somewhat rambunctious final Presto, the pianist teased us with charming pauses between scales and trills, tossing off all the coloratura passagework in this unusual and inventive movement with complete clarity.

The centerpiece of Mr. Li’s program was his interpretation of Chopin’s second sonata, which is built around its famous third movement: the Marche funèbre.

From its turbulent opening, the opening Grave – Doppio movimento gave us a breathtaking display of the pianist’s gifts. The music is alternately seething and pensive, with a rising theme corresponding to a rise in the player’s passion. My notes on his playing were reduced to “Huge!”, “Thrilling!” and “Epic turmoil!” After a brief display of tenderness, the pianist became so searingly rhapsodic that I simply wrote “DAMN!”. In an electrifying moment, Mr. Li sustained the movement’s concluding chord and then suddenly pulled his hands off the keyboard to his chest. It was a gesture I’ll never forget.

Following an agitato start and some darkly wild passages, the second movement turns into a slow waltz. Mr. Li wandered beautifully thru this musical landscape, reveling in his dynamic control. After a return to speediness, the music ends on a fading note: more magic.

The doleful Marche funèbre was poignantly played; we felt the weight of the world upon us in Mr. Li’s deeply mournful phrases. Then a clear, sentimental melody rises from the bleakness. With heartfelt modulations and a caressive softness of touch, the pianist’s playing here was transportive. The march then returns, and gloom settles in once more.

With a scurrying feeling, the sonata’s concluding Presto seems almost like an afterthought in its brevity. After about a minute, Mr. Li’s nimble hands suddenly hesitate and the sonata ends with a briskly struck chord.

The Chopin elicited prolonged applause from the audience, and Mr. Li was called back for two bows; he acknowledged our enthusiasm with a lovely hand-over-heart gesture.

Following a longish interval during which the piano tuner seemed to be performing major surgery on the Steinway, Mr. Li returned with works by Rachmaninoff and Liszt.

I found Rachmaninoff’s Variations on a Theme of Corelli, written in 1931, to be the least interesting music on the program. The theme itself is nothing to write home about; then Rachmaninoff throws everything but the kitchen sink into the variations. Mr. Li brought all his prodigious gifts to this piece, from the simple setting forth of the theme thru the panoramic rhythms and harmonies of the endless variations. The audience were with him every step of the way, but – for all the delights of his playing – I found myself wishing he had programmed something else.

Such notions were swept away with Mr. Li’s choices of the concluding works for his recital: ideally contrasted, Franz Liszt’s meditative the Consolation in D-flat Major found its perfect counter-poise in the mad virtuosity of his Hungarian Rhapsody No. 2.

In the Consolation, the pianist created a dreamlike atmosphere with his delicate, contemplative playing. Then there was a brief silence and Mr. Li launched the Hungarian Rhapsody with its vibrant gypsy themes. Sparkling virtuosity, and a sense of playfulness in his variances of speed and witty pauses, the pianist kept the audience enthralled. The sight of his fingers flying up and down the keyboard at super-speed with mind-boggling.

Engulfed in waves of heartfelt applause, Mr. Li offered two encores from the operatic repertoire, displaying both his sensitive and his uninhibited sides. In the gentle and simple clarity of the Blessed Spirit theme from Gluck’s ORFEO ED EURIDICE and then in the sexy brilliance of the Chanson bohème from Bizet’s CARMEN, Mr. Li summarized his dual nature: as a poet and a virtuoso.

The Program:
- HAYDN Piano Sonata in B Minor, Hob. XVI: 32
- CHOPIN Piano Sonata No. 2 in B-flat Minor, Op. 35
- RACHMANINOFF Variations on a Theme of Corelli
- LISZT Consolation No. 3 in D-flat Major
- LISZT Hungarian Rhapsody No. 2 in C-sharp Minor
~ Oberon
October 27, 2017
Ensemble Connect @ Weill Hall

~ Author: Scoresby

Monday October 23rd, 2017 – In Carnegie Hall’s intimate Weill Hall, I attended an eclectic concert of American music performed by Ensemble Connect (formerly Ensemble ACJW). For those that do not know, Ensemble Connect is according to the Carnegie Hall website “a program of Carnegie Hall, The Juilliard School, and the Weill Music Institute in partnership with the New York City Department of Education.” Each member is a two-year fellow who performs, teaches, and educates mainly (but not exclusively) in NYC. The Carnegie Hall and Paul Hall (at Juilliard) series of performances are always interesting, as the ensemble typically plays adventurous mixes of chamber music repertoire.

I was excited to see the program began with the wonderful clarinetist Yonnah Kim and the colorful pianist Lee Dione performing the Bernstein Sonata for Clarinet and Piano. While I had never heard the sonata before, I remembered Ms. Kim from her excellent performance last year in Golijov’s The Dreams and Prayers of Isaac the Blind. The sonata is divided into two movements, the first being having a relatively dissonant skittering melody reminiscent of Hindemith. The second is more in the mode of Bernstein’s popular style, with jazzy sections. I couldn’t help but wonder if Bernstein had been listening to the Rite of Spring when composing the piece, there are a few allusions throughout the sonata.

Ms. Kim captured the oscillating clarinet in the first movement part well with a clear, mysterious sound – managing to shade the lower register parts of the work with a dusty timbre. In the second movement, she added flair to the jazzy sections making them come to life. Mr. Lee managed to capture the mood well with subtle dynamic phrasing and finesse in the rhythmic sections. While I can’t say I was fond of the sonata musically, both players sounded as if they had playing together for years.

After the sonata, Mr. Dione gave a short speech tying together the wide-ranging program; highlighting the need for distinct American voices to be heard. The second piece on the program was Missy Mazzoli’s Still Life with Avalanche, which is for flute (Rosie Gallagher), clarinet doubling as bass clarinet (Yoonah Kim), violin (Adelya Nartadjieva), viola (Andrew Gonzalez), cello (Madeline Fayette), piano (Lee Dione), percussion (Brandon Ilaw), and 3 harmonicas. The work begins with the harmonicas and strings creating an atmospheric drone that is then interrupted by the bass clarinet and piano. These interruptions build and become more frequent until the piece takes shape. It sounds like a mix of a few genres ranging from rock to contemporary classical. The players all gave a committed performance, embracing each different style of music and coordinating well.

The last piece on the brief first half of the program was Copland’s Sextet for clarinet (Yoonah Kim), violins (Rebecca Anderson and Adelya Nartadjieva), viola (Andrew Gonzalez), cello (Julia Yang), and piano (Mika Sasaki). The piece is a reduction of Copland’s Short Symphony, though I hadn’t heard either before. The writing is densely packed with complex rhythms, jazzy riffs, and lyrical melodies. It is an excellent piece, though there is almost too much to listen to in the first movement. Despite the difficulty of getting the timing correct on this piece, the ensemble seemed very together capturing the nervous trudging quality of the opening. Balance-wise, it was a pleasure to hear Ms. Yang’s resonant voice, she seemed to capture the bouncing character of the piece well. It keeps its momentum all the way until the first chords of the second movement. There is a dramatic shift to a quiet chorale-like second movement, which slowly builds in intensity. The strings did a good job of providing a resonant sound, contrasting the first movement well. The finale is a more calculated cacophony that really emphasizes jazzy rhythms and slides. Duets between Ms. Kim and the various strings provided a light and entertaining sound.

The second half of the program was devoted to one of Steve Reich’s most important works: Different Trains. The piece is for a quartet and tape (sound engineer Benjamin Furiga assisting in this performance); the quartet consisting of Adelya Nartadjieva on first violin, Rebecca Anderson on second violin, Andrew Gonzalez on viola, and Madeline Fayette on cello. The tape has tracks of trains, the speech of holocaust survivors from interviews with Mr. Reich, and a taped quartet. The music and the speech imitate each other creating a hybrid between speech and music through the three movements of the piece. While certainly an important milestone in 20^th century classical music and a well-crafted composition, I’ve never had an affinity for this piece. It seemed particularly strange to hear such an emotional work about the holocaust and the aftermath of World War II in Weill Hall’s intimate grandiloquent setting with gold trimming and a beautiful chandelier.

Nonetheless, the musicians executed the performance well, keeping their place despite the fact that there seemed to be technical issues with the spoken part of the tape (while audible some of the time, it seemed to cut in and out at times making it hard to follow). They all seemed invested in the music and it showed: many audience members around me were bobbing their heads to the hypnotic speech/rhythms. I appreciate that Ensemble Connect goes after diverse sets of repertoire that typically wouldn’t be programmed together, especially when the playing is as high caliber as it was this evening.

~ Scoresby

October 25, 2017