Category: Music

Jerry Hadley

Above, an all-star quartet: Thomas Hampson, James Morris, Samuel Ramey, and Jerry Hadley

Back in 1980, at the New York City Opera, a young tenor singing the role of Gastone in TRAVIATA made me prick up my ears with his brief lines. It was Jerry Hadley. He is one of a four singers who captivated me initially in a small role and went on to a major career; the others were Samuel Ramey (1st Nazarene in SALOME), Kathleen Battle (Shepherd in TANNHAUSER), and Lisette Oropesa (Cretan Woman in IDOMENEO). They all became great favorites of mine.

Hadley had a generous lyric tenor with an Italianate sense of warmth and passion. The voice was clear and ardent, and he looked good onstage. He sang quite a lot at New York City Opera – where I saw him as Alfred in FLEDERMAUS, as Faust, and Nadir in PECHEURS DES PERLES. I also was present when he sang the title-role in Mozart’s IDOMENEO (Strauss version) at the Mostly Mozart Festival.

In 1987, Hadley made his Met debut as des Grieux in MANON and sang 125 performances there – in roles as diverse as Donizetti’s Edgardo, Mozart’s Ferrando and Don Ottavio, and Stravinsky’s Tom Rakewell. I saw him at The Met as Alfredo in TRAVIATA, Tamino in ZAUBERFLOETE, and Lensky in EUGENE ONEGIN. His final Met performances were in the title-role of Harbison’s THE GREAT GATSBY in 2002. He committed suicide in 2007, at the age of 55.

May 18, 2017
My Only Meyerbeer

To date, this concert performance of LES HUGUENOTS presented at Carnegie Hall in 1969 is the only Meyerbeer opera I have experienced live. Listening to Lisette Oropesa’s recent performance of the aria “Robert, toi que j’aime” from ROBERT LE DIABLE put me in mind of that Carnegie HUGUENOTS which marked one of many high points in the era of Beverly Sills Mania.

Die-hard Meyerbeer admirers continually clamor for more productions of his operas, yet to me they always seems like musically sprawling works wherein a few stimulating arias or ensembles are to be found amidst much that is merely workaday. Here is New York City, Meyerbeer fared quite well during the first 50 or so years at the Old Met, where productions of ROBERT LE DIABLE, LE PROPHETE, L’AFRICAINE and especially LES HUGUENOTS (the fabled ‘nights of the seven stars’) were given fairly regularly; but by the mid-1930s they all seem to have faded away. A production of PROPHETE – starring Marilyn Horne, Renata Scotto, and James McCracken – was given at the New Met in 1977 and repeated in 1979 before vanishing.

Over the years, I have made numerous attempts to connect with these antique operas: a recording of ROBERTO IL DIAVOLO from the Maggio Musicale 1968 with Scotto and Boris Christoff held by attention for a while, as did a video from San Francisco of L’AFRICAINE with Placido Domingo and the sultry-voiced Shirley Verrett. I bought the commercial recording of LE PROPHETE but never made it past the first LP before turning it over to the library.

Sutherland had her HUGUENOTS at La Scala (with Corelli and Simionato driving audiences to distraction), and ROBERT LE DIABLE has been revived for Samuel Ramey and, more recently, for Bryan Hymel.

But, getting back to that 1969 HUGUENOTS at Carnegie Hall, my opera diary (volume 1) reveals that Licia Albanese, Régine Crespin, Bidu Sayão, and Dame Alicia Markova were among the audience.

The evening essentially was a Sills triumph. She wore a queenly white and gold gown and sang all of Marguerite de Valois’ fanciful coloratura brilliantly, tossing off strikingly clear notes in alt and driving her fans to distraction. Here is a sample of Sills in this music:

Beverly Sills – O beau Pays ~ LES HUGUENOTS

There was also excellent singing from Justino Diaz as Marcel (who intones the old Lutheran hymn ‘A Mighty Fortress is Our God‘), and fine work from Thomas Jamerson (de Nevers) and Joshua Hecht (St Bris). As the desperate lovers, Angeles Gulin (Valentine) and Tony Poncet (Raoul) were less impressive. Despite some attractive passages, Gulin’s “almost painfully huge” voice was beset by pitch problems. Poncet, who had had an estimable career singing demanding roles from the French and Italian repertoire starting in 1957, had been in vocal decline. This performance was viewed as something of a comeback, but it was not very successful.

The queen’s page Urbain was beautifully sung by mezzo-soprano Kay Creed (above, after singing Angelina in LA CENERENTOLA at NYC Opera). At the time, I had a huge crush on Ms. Creed, who in 1960 had been named Miss Oklahoma. I saw her many times at NYC Opera: as Suzuki, and as Maddalena, Siebel, Mlle. Clairon in CAPRICCIO, Cherubino, Annina in ROSENKAVALIER, and as Nancy in a delightfully-cast performance of ALBERT HERRING.

April 27, 2017
The St. Lawrence Quartet @ CMS

Above: the players of The St. Lawrence Quartet are Christopher Constanza, Lesley Robertson, Owen Dalby, and Geoff Nuttall; photo by Marco Borggreve

Author: Scoresby

Wednesday April 25^th 2017 – On this rainy, dreary evening, the St. Lawrence String Quartet presented by Chamber Music Society of Lincoln Center, played a recital in Alice Tully Hall. Despite their notoriety, this was the first time I had the opportunity to hear the St. Lawrence String Quartet live. I’ve heard their recent recording of John Adams’s concerto Absolute Jest, so was intrigued to hear them perform Mr. Adams’s second string quartet.

Luckily contrasting the weather outside, the first piece on the program was Haydn’s Quartet in C major for Strings, Hob. III:32, Op. 20 No. 2. In the opening moderato they had a light, tight style of playing. The playing was robust and resonant, it almost sounded like they were miked at time due to the quartet’s vibrato being well in sync.

During the second movement of particular note was Mr. Constanza’s beautifully dark color, which blended well into the rest of the quartet. They seemed to savor the silences in the music, giving lots of space to the thick chords. The fugal fourth movement was the most satisfying, played with a large dynamic range leading to close out the piece. The playing was quick, light, and precise – though textually changed into a drier sound.

Above: composer John Adams

The piece I was most curious about on the program was John Adams’s Quartet No. 2 for Strings, composed in 2014. The St. Lawrence String Quartet has had a long standing relationship with Mr. Adams in the past, writing his first string quartet, Absolute Jest, and this quartet for them. As a longtime John Adams fan, it was interesting to see how he continues to stylistically change even at the age of seventy. The first movement is based on the Scherzo from Beethoven’s penultimate piano sonata. Mr. Adams takes a fragment of the melody and puts it through a kaleidoscope of key, timbre, and rhythmic transformations with the music rarely seeming to slow. There are a few rhythmic and textual nods to the Große Fuge as well as small references to the last piano sonata and other late Beethoven works.

While I typically think of Mr. Adams’s soundscape as open, here the writing was spidery and dense. For the most part, the instruments kept in similar ranges, never using extreme highs or lows. The cumulative effect felt claustrophobic. I appreciated Mr. Adams’s humor in taking these small fragments from Beethoven’s late period (which many scholars believe pushed tonality, rhythm, and structure forward) and pushing them through the wringer of different styles, expanding them further than Beethoven could have conceived. The players did well exhibiting all of the textual and rhythmic shifts – they performed in a wry way which made it easy to hear all of the textures in the dense writing.

The second movement is based around a fragment from the opening of Op. 111. The start of the movement is much quieter than other parts of the piece, and the writing seems to open up a little here. They played with subtlety during the first part of the movement, before switching to an impressively nimble style for a virtuosic finish based around one of the Diabelli Variations.

The second half of the program was also a work completely new to me: Saint-Saëns Quartet in E minor for Strings, Op. 112. Here the quartet was at their best. One of the most transporting moments of the concert were the opening chords of the first movement. Full of resonance with a mute on and playing the small ornamental flourishes that sounded like wisps from a cloud, the quartet managed to capture the French panache of Saint-Saëns’s writing.

The performers painted the two contrasting themes in the first movement well, managing to be both sweet and dark. The St. Lawrence has impeccable pianissimos – really being able to make their instruments sing while being utterly clear. The writing of this quartet is both highly structured and romantically rich – a nice blend of two different styles. There are also hints of modernity peppered in, which seems unusual for Saint-Saëns.

The third movement was performed beautifully, the most impressive part being the blending of the viola, second violin, and cello lines. While for the first part of the movement the instruments aren’t given more than accompanying lines – they managed to create a shifting backdrop for the solo violin line. Each chord was reminiscent of a master painter mixing and testing the gamut of colors. The pulsing finale was played with a muscly and full tone closing out the piece with flair.

As a sweet encore, the Quartet offered the slow movement of Haydn’s Op. 20 No. 1.

~ Scoresby

April 26, 2017
Jonathan Biss|NY Philharmonic

Above: pianist Jonathan Biss in a Benjamin Ealovega portrait

Author: Scoresby

Thursday April 20th, 2017 – The promising young conductor Courtney Lewis shared his New York Philharmonic subscription debut (he was the Assistant Conductor there from 2014 – 2016) with the pianist Jonathan Biss. The program was split between two orchestral works bookending two piano concerti. While individually the pieces were interesting, it was a little unclear how the program fit together. It was my first time hearing Mr. Lewis live and my first time hearing Mr. Biss in an orchestral performance – though I have enjoyed his solo performances in the past.

The first selection on the program was Part Two Scene One of Berlioz’s Roméo et Juliette, Dramatic Symphony after Shakespeare’s Tragedy, Op. 17. The scene is broken down into a tone poem of sorts with the subtitles: Romeo Alone, Sadness, Distant Sounds of a Concert and a Ball, and Great Festivities in the Capulet’s Palace. While a Berlioz fan, I had never heard this particular work before. After last night’s performance I immediately went home and listened to the full piece online – it is some of Berlioz’s most original composing.

Mr. Lewis (above) and the orchestra had superb dynamic control, starting from just a hush in the beginning that evoked a person meandering through a forest with the lighting shimmering and shifting under different trees. The music itself reminded me so much of the creeping chromaticism and lush sounds in Tristan and Isolde that I kept expecting to hear the famous Tristan Chord. Berlioz doesn’t go that far though, and instead the piece opens up into a great party scene.

Mr. Lewis led this change in atmosphere marvelously – shifting from a tragic meditative walk into a brash, almost militaristic ball. This wasn’t light dance music in Mr. Lewis’s interpretation; instead, there were crashes and thumps with the percussion implying the coming tragedy. It was satisfying to see that the players seem to have genuine affection for him and it felt like they wanted him to succeed.

Next on the program was the young composer Timo Andres’s The Blind Banister: Concerto for Piano and Chamber Orchestra with Jonathan Biss performing the piano part. The piece was composed as a companion piece to Beethoven Piano Concerto No. 2 in B-flat major, Op. 19 (on the program later), though as Mr. Andres admits in his notes there are few similarities other than a motif he takes from the cadenza of the Beethoven. Mr. Andres’s piece centers on downward/upward scalar motion and suspended seconds. It is tonal and has layers upon layers of atmosphere, with the piano a fabric holding it together. Mr. Lewis did a good job of highlighting different timbres in the score, while Mr. Biss gave the piece a dedicated performance. The woodblocks in the second movement were particularly fun to hear.

The second half started with the underappreciated gem of the Beethoven Piano Concerti: No. 2 in B-flat major, Op. 19. I have always had affinity for this piece, being dainty and expressive at the same time. Mr. Biss was at his best in the first and last movements, playing with a touch as light as a feather. It was impressive hearing how he could change the color of a particular phrase with his changes in articulation, ranging from buttery legatos to harpsichord-like plucking.

In the Adagio the orchestra shined – I thought the brass section sounded lovely with a warm sound. Mr. Biss played the dynamics of the adagio well, but didn’t have the same ease and gloss as he did in the first movement. The Rondo was played brusquely and with finesse; all of the structures were very tight. Mr. Biss did a good job of keeping the tune playful, making it sound like something someone could whistle. The orchestra gave an equally nimble performance.

The final piece on this eclectic program was Elgar’s In the South (Alassio), Op. 50. I’ve never had an affinity for Elgar before, but this unknown piece to me reminded me a lot of Strauss mixed with Italian folk tunes. Mr. Lewis played through the large swells of romanticism well. The quietest sections were the most memorable, with a charming duet between the harps and Associate Principal Viola Rebecca Young being a highlight of the evening. During the denser moments of the piece, some of the middle range instruments sounded muddy, but this is was due more to Elgar’s writing than Mr. Lewis’s conducting. Overall Mr. Lewis proved more than capable and demonstrated he is a flexible conductor well on his way to a major career. Mr. Biss lived up to his reputation as a fine Beethoven interpreter and a subtle artist.

~ Scoresby

April 21, 2017
Violinist Simone Lamsma @ Weill Hall

Above: Simone Lamsma, photographed by Otto Van Toorn

{Note: As I continue to cope with a severe lower back episode, please welcome guest-writer Scoresby, who will be covering some events in my absence and – hopefully – will continue to write for this blog in the future so that we may – between the two of us – cover even more concerts.}

Thursday March 30th, 2017 – The violinist Simone Lamsma performed a well-programmed Carnegie debut at Weill Hall with pianist Robert Kulek.

While a well-known composer for his orchestral music, this was the first time I have heard a James Macmillan piece. It was a welcome introduction to his sound world. His Sonata for Violin and Piano, “Before the Tryst” is a 15-minute piece in one-movement that cycles through many different moods and colors. At its heart is a setting that Macmillan wrote in the early 1980’s of the Scottish poet William Soutar’s “The Tryst”. Previously, Macmillan used a melody from the setting in a shorter violin and piano work called “After the Tryst”.

“Before the Tryst” initiates with a whisper of violin harmonics and the percussive, almost inaudible, high reaches of the piano. Percussion and rhythm are vital to this piece – it almost feels like dance music. There are many trills (reminiscent of the opening of the Prokofiev sonata), slides, tone clusters, and other well used devices to paint a colorful canvas. While tonal, there are plenty of delicious dissonances.

There are sections of lyric quiet punctuated with aggressively anxious lines. Fittingly, it reminded me of a young person anxiously falling into an all consuming love, feeling both drawn-in and cut off at the same time. It is certainly a worthwhile entry into the violin repertoire.

Ms. Lamsma managed to dramatically capture all of the rhythms, particularly near the end. She played with a wonderfully scratchy, Stravinsky-esque tone. Mr. Kulek complemented this with a warm tone. The piece ends with a section of the violin hostilely interjecting long pauses until only the silence remains.

Prokofiev Sonata No. 1 in F Minor, Op. 80 is one of my favorite pieces of music, so it is always a pleasure to hear a live performance. It is a later Prokofiev piece started in the backdrop of the Great Terror in 1938 and completed in 1946 – David Oistrakh and Samuel Feinberg performed the first and third movements at his funeral seven years later.

Ms. Lamsma’s crafted a sarcastic edge and raspiness that served the piece well. In the first movement, she did an excellent job of keeping space and quiet within the piece – if played too quickly it can lose its brooding mood. One of the most successful parts of her recital was Ms. Lamsma’s virtuosic playing and fast tempo in the second movement. Mr. Kulek let loose in the fortissimos creating an urgent mood.

In the third movement, Ms. Lamsma’s mute on the instrument along with her tone, almost made her sound like the ghostly playing of a 1940’s record. This movement is Prokofiev in one of his most impressionist idioms. As I was listening, I could almost imagine the static from an LP and sounds of rain patting a window on a dreary day. The last movement ended the sonata with fast, rhythmic pulses, which finally gave way to one last whispering statement of the first movement.

Above: Robert Kulek, photo by Brabander Fotografie

After the intermission was Strauss’s Violin Sonata in E-flat Major, Op. 18. While I personally have never had an affinity for this piece, this reading did make me see how important the piece was to Strauss’s development for his later symphonic poems. The piece is written in three movements with a dense piano part that the violin soars over.

Ms. Lamsma gave a muscular performance in all three movements, though managed to have still a spontaneous flair in the second movement. The violin playing had a warmer, fuller tone in the Strauss. At many points, particularly in the first and third movements, I felt as if this piece would work well as a concerto because the piano part has so much bundled in. Nonetheless, Mr. Kulek managed to give a transparent reading, with notably sensitive playing in the second movement.

The romance of the Strauss balanced the heavier first half of the program well. Clearly this young artist has an eye for thoughtful programming. As an encore, the artists treated the audience to a bonbon in the form of Samuel Dushkin’s “Sicilienne” (after Romanze from Weber’s Violin Sonata, Op. 10, No. 1).

~ Scoresby

March 30, 2017
Sciatica

UPDATE – 3/18/17 – I’m now in my 7th day of being virtually home-bound. The pain is pretty much steady; painkillers have helped me get thru the week…and I have a chiropractor who makes house calls! I so miss getting out, taking walks, having lunches with friends, and attending concerts and dance performances.

Meanwhile, if anyone knows an acupuncturist who might make a house call up here in Inwood, e-mail me at [email protected]

March 11, 2017 – After intermittent sciatic problems over the past three or four years, I’m in the midst of an especially painful episode that is causing me to miss events, which is extremely frustrating for me. Sciatic pain is random and meds which might work one day do nothing the next. I’m dealing with it as best I can, and hope to be back on a normal schedule soon.

March 10, 2017
Mendelssohn’s Sorrow @ Chamber Music Society
Above: the Schumann Quartet

Sunday February 26th, 2017 – Following last week’s Chamber Music Society of Lincoln Center‘s program centering on joy-filled music by Felix Mendelssohn, we were back at Alice Tully Hall to experience the great composer’s more melancholy moods. With music of Bach and Schumann also on offer, we became acquainted with Schumann String Quartet, and could admire once again three artists whose CMS performances to date have given particular pleasure: violinist Danbi Um, cellist Jakob Koranyi, and pianist Juho Pohjonen.

Mr. Pohjonen (above) opened the evening with Bach’s Chromatic Fantasy and Fugue in D minor for Keyboard, BWV 903. The Finnish pianist’s elegance of technique and his Olde World mystique always summon up for me visions of pianists from bygone days performing in the drawing rooms of Paris, Budapest, or Vienna. But for all those dreamworld allusions, Mr. Pohjonen’s playing has vibrant immediacy and is very much of our time.

Mr. Pohjonen, in a program note, describes the Chromatic Fantasy as “labyrinthine”, and that it most surely is; but it’s a wonderful work to get lost in, and as the pianist drew us along the music’s sometimes eccentric, almost improvisational pathways, we could only marvel at the gradations of both subtlety and passion in his playing.

The Schumann Quartet intrigued us from the very opening notes of their rendering of Mendelssohn’s Fugue in E-flat major. From her first phrase, violist Liisa Randalu drew us in; the three Schumann brothers – Erik and Ken (violins), and Mark (cello) – take up the wistful melody in turn. The music becomes gently animated, with the four voices blending serenely. Poignant colours from the rising violin and the honeyed resonance of the cello frame Ms. Randalu’s expressive playing. These textures will become key elements in the Schumann Quartet’s performance of the composer’s Quartet in F-minor, which followed immediately.

Mendelssohn’s last completed major work, the F-minor quartet was composed in 1847. On returning to Frankfurt from a tiring stay in London in early May, the composer soon learned that Fanny, his beloved sister, had died of a stroke. Mendelssohn struggled that summer with work on numerous projects, but was only able to complete this final quartet, dedicated to Fanny’s memory. On November 4th, he died following a series of strokes. He was 38 years old.

The F-minor quartet opens with scurrying attacks and a sense of restless energy. The music softens to a nervous pulsing as the cello sings from lyrical depths, with the luminous violin overhead. The movement then accelerates to a striking finish. The “scherzo” ironically mixes passionate phrases with delicate commentary. Viola and cello rumble darkly in the brief trio passage, then the tempest stirs up again before a little coda vanishes into thin air.

A simple song that Mendelssohn and Fanny had shared in happier times memorializes their bond in the touching Adagio, which commences with a descending cello passage. The recollections evoked by the song, which is a sweet melody in its own right, are now tinged with sadness. Superbly controlled tone from Erik Schumann’s violin was most affecting; the pulsing cello then heralds a surge of despairing passion.

The finale is restless, at times verging on dissonant. Passing notions of lyricism are swept away, and wild passages for the violin warn of an impending disaster. This is a composer on the brink.

The Schumann Quartet’s very impressive playing of this disturbing yet strangely beautiful piece earned them a very warm acclamation from the Tully Hall crowd. It is pleasing to know that they will be back with us next season in this same lovely space to share other aspects of their artistry – music from The Roaring Twenties on March 4th, 2018, and a full Schumann Quartet evening on April 29th, 2018, when they’ll play works of Haydn, Bartok, Reimann, and Schumann.

Following the interval, Mr. Pohjonen offered Robert Schumann’s Arabesque in C major for Piano, Op. 18. This episodic piece has a narrative aspect, though none is stated or even implied. Mr. Pohjonen relished the melodious themes that rise up, veering from major to minor as the Arabesque flows forward. Subtle passages become treasurable in this pianist’s interpretation, and the poetic finish of the work was lovingly expressed.

Juho Pohjonen returned with his colleagues Danbi Um and Jakob Koranyi for Schumann’s Trio No. 1 D minor for Piano, Violin, and Cello, Op. 63.

Above: Danbi Um, photo by Vanessa Briceño

Above: Jakob Koranyi, photo by Anna-Lena Ahlström

Ms. Um, lithe and lovely in a fair burgundy-hued gown, displayed the sweetness of tone that makes listening to her so enjoyable; Messrs Koranyi and Pohjonen are masters of dynamic nuance, and thus the three together delivered page after page of radiant, colorful playing.

The D-minor trio’s opening movement calls for rippling arpeggios from the pianist, expertly set forth by Mr. Pohjonen. Ms. Um and Mr. Koranyi harmonize and converse in passages which switch from lyrical yearning to emphatic declamation. A pause, and a new theme emerges: delicate at first, then turning passionate. A sense of agitation prevails in this movement, despite ‘settled’ moments: the three musicians captured these shifts of mood so well, and they savored the rather unexpected ending.

Marked “Lebhaft, doch nicht zu rasch” (‘Lively, but not rushed’), the scherzo has the feel of a scuffing, skipping dance. Rising and falling scales glow in the calmer interlude; but the dance soon strikes up again…and comes to a sudden halt.

The trio’s third movement embarks on a disconsolate violin passage, played with affecting expressiveness and lovely control by Ms. Um. When Mr. Koranyi’s cello joins in, this simple melody becomes increasingly touching. A gently urgent central section reverts to the slow, sad gorgeousness so evocatively sustained by our three musicians, the cello sounding from the depths.

The tuneful finale seems almost joyous, but shadows can still hover. The playing is marvelously integrated, becoming tender – almost dreamy – with smoothly rippling piano and the violin on the ascent. The themes mingle, developing into a big song. This simmers down briefly before a final rush of energy propels us to the finish.

I had felt pretty certain the Um-Koranyi-Pohjonen collaboration would produce memorable results, and I was right. We must hear them together again – soon – and let’s start with my favorite chamber works: the Mendelssohn piano trios. The audience shared my enthusiasm for the three musicians, calling them back for a second bow this evening.
- Bach Chromatic Fantasy and Fugue in D minor for Keyboard, BWV 903 (before 1723)
- Mendelssohn Fugue in E-flat major for String Quartet, Op. 81, No. 4 (1827)
- Mendelssohn Quartet in F minor for Strings, Op. 80 (1847)
- Schumann Arabesque in C major for Piano, Op. 18 (1838-39)
- Schumann Trio No. 1 D minor for Piano, Violin, and Cello, Op. 63 (1847)
February 27, 2017
Mendelssohn’s Sorrow @ Chamber Music Society
Above: the Schumann Quartet

Sunday February 26th, 2017 – Following last week’s Chamber Music Society of Lincoln Center‘s program centering on joy-filled music by Felix Mendelssohn, we were back at Alice Tully Hall to experience the great composer’s more melancholy moods. With music of Bach and Schumann also on offer, we became acquainted with Schumann String Quartet, and could admire once again three artists whose CMS performances to date have given particular pleasure: violinist Danbi Um, cellist Jakob Koranyi, and pianist Juho Pohjonen.

Mr. Pohjonen (above) opened the evening with Bach’s Chromatic Fantasy and Fugue in D minor for Keyboard, BWV 903. The Finnish pianist’s elegance of technique and his Olde World mystique always summon up for me visions of pianists from bygone days performing in the drawing rooms of Paris, Budapest, or Vienna. But for all those dreamworld allusions, Mr. Pohjonen’s playing has vibrant immediacy and is very much of our time.

Mr. Pohjonen, in a program note, describes the Chromatic Fantasy as “labyrinthine”, and that it most surely is; but it’s a wonderful work to get lost in, and as the pianist drew us along the music’s sometimes eccentric, almost improvisational pathways, we could only marvel at the gradations of both subtlety and passion in his playing.

The Schumann Quartet intrigued us from the very opening notes of their rendering of Mendelssohn’s Fugue in E-flat major. From her first phrase, violist Liisa Randalu drew us in; the three Schumann brothers – Erik and Ken (violins), and Mark (cello) – take up the wistful melody in turn. The music becomes gently animated, with the four voices blending serenely. Poignant colours from the rising violin and the honeyed resonance of the cello frame Ms. Randalu’s expressive playing. These textures will become key elements in the Schumann Quartet’s performance of the composer’s Quartet in F-minor, which followed immediately.

Mendelssohn’s last completed major work, the F-minor quartet was composed in 1847. On returning to Frankfurt from a tiring stay in London in early May, the composer soon learned that Fanny, his beloved sister, had died of a stroke. Mendelssohn struggled that summer with work on numerous projects, but was only able to complete this final quartet, dedicated to Fanny’s memory. On November 4th, he died following a series of strokes. He was 38 years old.

The F-minor quartet opens with scurrying attacks and a sense of restless energy. The music softens to a nervous pulsing as the cello sings from lyrical depths, with the luminous violin overhead. The movement then accelerates to a striking finish. The “scherzo” ironically mixes passionate phrases with delicate commentary. Viola and cello rumble darkly in the brief trio passage, then the tempest stirs up again before a little coda vanishes into thin air.

A simple song that Mendelssohn and Fanny had shared in happier times memorializes their bond in the touching Adagio, which commences with a descending cello passage. The recollections evoked by the song, which is a sweet melody in its own right, are now tinged with sadness. Superbly controlled tone from Erik Schumann’s violin was most affecting; the pulsing cello then heralds a surge of despairing passion.

The finale is restless, at times verging on dissonant. Passing notions of lyricism are swept away, and wild passages for the violin warn of an impending disaster. This is a composer on the brink.

The Schumann Quartet’s very impressive playing of this disturbing yet strangely beautiful piece earned them a very warm acclamation from the Tully Hall crowd. It is pleasing to know that they will be back with us next season in this same lovely space to share other aspects of their artistry – music from The Roaring Twenties on March 4th, 2018, and a full Schumann Quartet evening on April 29th, 2018, when they’ll play works of Haydn, Bartok, Reimann, and Schumann.

Following the interval, Mr. Pohjonen offered Robert Schumann’s Arabesque in C major for Piano, Op. 18. This episodic piece has a narrative aspect, though none is stated or even implied. Mr. Pohjonen relished the melodious themes that rise up, veering from major to minor as the Arabesque flows forward. Subtle passages become treasurable in this pianist’s interpretation, and the poetic finish of the work was lovingly expressed.

Juho Pohjonen returned with his colleagues Danbi Um and Jakob Koranyi for Schumann’s Trio No. 1 D minor for Piano, Violin, and Cello, Op. 63.

Above: Danbi Um, photo by Vanessa Briceño

Above: Jakob Koranyi, photo by Anna-Lena Ahlström

Ms. Um, lithe and lovely in a fair burgundy-hued gown, displayed the sweetness of tone that makes listening to her so enjoyable; Messrs Koranyi and Pohjonen are masters of dynamic nuance, and thus the three together delivered page after page of radiant, colorful playing.

The D-minor trio’s opening movement calls for rippling arpeggios from the pianist, expertly set forth by Mr. Pohjonen. Ms. Um and Mr. Koranyi harmonize and converse in passages which switch from lyrical yearning to emphatic declamation. A pause, and a new theme emerges: delicate at first, then turning passionate. A sense of agitation prevails in this movement, despite ‘settled’ moments: the three musicians captured these shifts of mood so well, and they savored the rather unexpected ending.

Marked “Lebhaft, doch nicht zu rasch” (‘Lively, but not rushed’), the scherzo has the feel of a scuffing, skipping dance. Rising and falling scales glow in the calmer interlude; but the dance soon strikes up again…and comes to a sudden halt.

The trio’s third movement embarks on a disconsolate violin passage, played with affecting expressiveness and lovely control by Ms. Um. When Mr. Koranyi’s cello joins in, this simple melody becomes increasingly touching. A gently urgent central section reverts to the slow, sad gorgeousness so evocatively sustained by our three musicians, the cello sounding from the depths.

The tuneful finale seems almost joyous, but shadows can still hover. The playing is marvelously integrated, becoming tender – almost dreamy – with smoothly rippling piano and the violin on the ascent. The themes mingle, developing into a big song. This simmers down briefly before a final rush of energy propels us to the finish.

I had felt pretty certain the Um-Koranyi-Pohjonen collaboration would produce memorable results, and I was right. We must hear them together again – soon – and let’s start with my favorite chamber works: the Mendelssohn piano trios. The audience shared my enthusiasm for the three musicians, calling them back for a second bow this evening.
- Bach Chromatic Fantasy and Fugue in D minor for Keyboard, BWV 903 (before 1723)
- Mendelssohn Fugue in E-flat major for String Quartet, Op. 81, No. 4 (1827)
- Mendelssohn Quartet in F minor for Strings, Op. 80 (1847)
- Schumann Arabesque in C major for Piano, Op. 18 (1838-39)
- Schumann Trio No. 1 D minor for Piano, Violin, and Cello, Op. 63 (1847)
February 26, 2017
Joyous Mendelssohn @ Chamber Music Society
In the days leading up to this evening’s concert at Chamber Music Society of Lincoln Center, it was announced that violinist Paul Huang was among the recipients of the 2017 Lincoln Center Awards.

Tuesday February 21st, 2017 – In the midst of their season celebrating Mendelssohn, Chamber Music Society of Lincoln Center offer two programs contrasting the joyous and the sorrowful. Today we reveled in the positive, sunny side of chamber music; on Sunday, February 26th, melancholy will prevail.

The Variations in E-flat major, Op. 44, by Ludwig van Beethoven, is a series of fourteen variations on a theme written for piano, violin and cello. The theme is set forth, plain as day: the musicians play a series of arpeggios at a moderate pace. From thence, the variations proceed in a variety of rhythms, instrumentation, harmony, and embellishment. Orion Weiss (piano), Sean Lee (violin), and Paul Watkins (cello) played deftly, and I greatly enjoyed observing their musical camaraderie and silent communication with one another.

The evening’s two pianists, Huw Watkins and Orion Weiss, gave us Mendelssohn’s Andante and Allegro brillant for Piano, Four Hands, Op. 92. And “brillant” aptly describes their performance, for they followed up the melodious Andante with a striking virtuoso display in the Allegro. Mr. Watkins took the lower octaves, and Mr. Weiss the upper, but they sometimes invaded each others domain. When things got fast and furious, each player had to lean out of the way to give the other access to the full keyboard in alternating solos. Thus their performance was as appealing to watch as to hear.

Above: British brothers Huw and Paul Watkins

Cellist Paul Watkins was joined by his pianist/brother Huw Watkins in a magnificent rendering of Mendelssohn’s Sonata in D-major for Cello and Piano, Op. 58. Their performance was truly engrossing, with the cellist’s soul-reaching depth of tone and the pianist’s perfect blend of elegance and vitality combining for a spell-binding musical experience.

In the D-major Sonata, Mendelssohn exults in the outer movements, giving the pianist a barrage of arpeggios with which to delight us while the cellist sings felicitous melodic passages.The sonata gets off to a fast start, with a lively pulse; both players bring mellifluous tone which they are able to maintain even in the most rapid phrases. Paul’s cello buzzes while Huw plays melody for a spell; then they seem to reverse roles. The word ‘amazing’ is so over-used these days, but that’s what I wrote as this fabulous Allegro assai vivace carried us along. The playing hones down to great subtlety before re-bounding and sweeping onward.

The second movement starts with a sprightly piano tune, with the plucking cello commenting, and then humming low. A lovely cello theme leads onto a more boisterous, slightly gritty passage before recurring. This little scherzo ends with a gentle whisper.

Rhapsodic phrases from the piano herald the Adagio, the heart of the matter. A poignant melody wells up from the cello, Paul Watkins’ glowing tone like a transfusion for the soul. Huw rhapsodizes again, then takes up his own melody over long-sustained tones from the cello. This Adagio seemed all too brief when played so nobly as it was this evening; the brothers then took only the briefest pause before attacking the opening of the final movement.

In this Molto allegro e vivace, both players flourished in the coloratura passages and in the melodic exchanges that ensue. After a lull, a slithery scale motif from the cello made me think of the moment in Strauss’s ELEKTRA before the murder of Klytemnestra – a far-fetched association to be sure, but there it is. The music ebbs and flows on to the finish, the Watkins brothers rightly hailed with spirited applause for their remarkable performance.

Mr. Weiss (above, in a Jacob Blickenstaff portrait) returned to the Steinway for Chopin’s Ballade in A-flat major for Piano, Op. 47, a piece long-familiar to me thru its appearance in the Jerome Robbins ballet The Concert. The pianist savoured the music, displaying a vast dynamic spectrum (blissful high pianissimi) and a keen appreciation for the shifting rhythmic patterns. When the music gets grand, Mr. Weiss’s playing is absolutely regal.

The Mendelssohn Quintet No. 2 in B-flat major for Two Violins, Two Violas, and Cello, Op. 87, drew together a most impressive string ensemble: Paul Huang and Sean Lee (violins), Paul Neubauer and Matthew Lipman (violas), and Paul Watkins (cello): their performance might be sub-titled ‘The Glory of Mendelssohn‘.

The players plunged immediately into the music with a vibrant agitato rhythm, from which Paul Huang’s violin soars up to the heavens. Throughout the performance, Mr. Huang’s tone shone with an achingly beautiful polish, his profusion of technique and his uncanny ability to mix refinement and passion in perfect measure defined him an artist of exceptional gifts.

This ensemble of wonderful musicians created a blend of particular cordiality, and each player took up their solo opportunities with stylish élan. Paul Neubauer’s playing was – as ever – aglow with poetic nuance; Matthew Lipman seconded him handsomely, displaying his trademark love of and commitment to the music, and Sean Lee’s suave phrasing is ever-pleasing to the ear. I found myself wishing that Mendelssohn had given the cello a bit more prominence, simply because I could not get enough of Paul Watkins’s playing.

The quintet’s Adagio e lento found all the musicians at their most expressive, a reassurance in uncertain times; we so desperately need great music at this point in our lives when the future seems poised on the edge of a knife. With the dedication of such artists as we heard today, the light of hope continues to shine as a testament against the powers of darkness.
- Beethoven Variations in E-flat major for Piano, Violin, and Cello, Op. 44 (1804)
- Mendelssohn Andante and Allegro brillant for Piano, Four Hands, Op. 92 (1841)
- Mendelssohn Sonata in D major for Cello and Piano, Op. 58 (1843)
- Chopin Ballade in A-flat major for Piano, Op. 47 (1841)
- Mendelssohn Quintet No. 2 in B-flat major for Two Violins, Two Violas, and Cello, Op. 87 (1845)
February 21, 2017
YCA Presents Samuel Hasselhorn

Wednesday February 15th, 2017 – Baritone Samuel Hasselhorn (above) presented by Young Concert Artists in recital at Merkin Hall. With Renate Rohlfing at the Steinway, the evening was a definitive success for both the tall singer and his lovely, expressive pianist. The imaginative program, which included both the familiar and the rare, was both beautifully sung and emotionally engaging.

In my 50+ years of recital-going, baritones have invariably giving me lasting memories: Wolfgang Holzmair, Dmitri Hvorstovsky, the two Thomases (Allen and Hampson), Bo Skovhus, Matthias Goerne, Sanford Sylvan, Kurt Ollmann, Christopheren Nomura, Randall Scarlata, Keith Phares, John Michael Moore, David Won, Shenyang, Thomas Cannon – their voices echo in the mind and heart. Mr. Hasselhorn now joins that distinguished list.

In their opening Schumann set, Mr. Hasselhorn and Ms. Rohlfing explored a wide range of moods: from the urgency of Tragödie I and the pensive resignation of Tragödie II, they progressed to the vivid narrative of Belsazar (Mr. Hasselhorn operatically powerful, with Ms. Rohlfing excelling), and the rather unusual Mein wagen rollet langsam. The effect of the defeat of Napoleon on two of his faithful foot-soldiers was marvelously depicted in song by Mr. Hasselhorn in Die beiden Grenadiere, with its sounding of the Marseillaise. Passionate desire fills Lehn’ deine Wang, and the contrasts of poetic and turbulent love were superbly expressed by baritone and pianist in Du bist wie eine Blume and Es leuchtet meine liebe, the latter ending with Ms. Rohlfing’s finely-played postlude.

In charmingly accented and very clear English, Mr. Hasselhorn delighted us with Britten’s ironic Oliver Cromwell and The foggy, foggy dew. The singer’s exceptional control was manifested in his poignant rendering of O waly, waly with Ms. Rohlfing giving tender support. A long comic Britten narrative, The Crocodile, ended the evening’s first half.

Addressing the audience before commencing the evening’s second half, Mr. Hasselhorn spoke of the woes of our planet today, thrown into further chaos by recent events. The plight of refugees worldwide, and the threats posed by war and terrorism to a hopeful humanity prompted the baritone to devise a set of works especially meaningful to him on a personal level; these he now offered to us with singing of real sincerity and depth of feeling.

The juxtaposition of Hugo Wolf’s madly dramatic Die Feuerreiter (‘The Fireman’) and Franz Schubert’s haunting Litanei auf das Allerseelen (‘Litany for All-Saints’) was a masterstroke of programming beyond anything I’ve ever experienced in a recital. The fierceness and wild desperation of the Wolf was memorably contrasted with the sublime prayer for peace penned by Schubert. Mr. Hasselhorn and Ms. Rohlfing were simply thrilling: the pianist in a virtuoso rendering of the Wolf whilst the singer’s urgency in the narrative reached a feverish level. By contrast, the Schubert was heart-rending in its lyricism and spirituality. By taking only a brief pause between these two, our two artists cast a veritable spell over the house.

Above: pianist Renate Rohlfing

Three Poulenc songs, reflections on the Nazi occupation of Paris, showed the Hasselhorn/Rohlfing partnership at its most persuasive. The pre-dawn removal of (fictional) freedom-fighter André Platard in La disparu, a prayer to the Virgin in Priez pour pays (the pianist truly sublime here), and the return from the front of an exhausted sergeant in Le retour de sergent made a triptych – painted in the inimitable Poulenc style – which perfectly encapsulates a specific time and place.

The singer and pianist then sent chills thru me with the devastating emotional power of their performance of Schubert’s Erlkönig. Mr. Hasselhorn summoned up the three contrasting characters of the narrative with subtle rather than overly-theatrical variants of tone-colour – simply splendid singing! – and Ms. Rohlfing gave the piano’s role, with its contrast of relentlessness, desperation, and cruel seduction, full rein. A luminously intense performance.

In the brief Wanderers Nachtlied II, poetry seeped gently into the air from Ms. Rohlfing’s keyboard, to be handsomely taken up by Mr. Hasselhorn like a benediction. Lingering on the heights of expressiveness, singer and pianist brought me to tears with the poignant song of Der blinde kind (‘The Blind Boy’), a youth who refuses to wallow in self-pity over his affliction. Mr. Hasselhorn’s gestures, stance, and expressive features portrayed the boy’s physical and emotional state movingly, evoking understanding rather than pity: such a touching song, superbly rendered.

Schubert’s last song, Die taubenpost (‘The carrier-pigeon’), seems like a simple avowal of young love as the poet sends his trusty pigeon bearing messages to his beloved. The pigeon’s name Sehnsucht – that magical word for ‘longing’ – and he is the messenger of fidelity. For those of us who love from afar, the song takes on a sweet depth of meaning. True to all that has gone before, Mr. Hasselhorn and Ms. Rohlfing were perfect here. Their encore, the blessed An die musik (‘To Music’), served as a summarizing of this exceptional evening of song.

I shall hope to hear Mr. Hasselhorn here in New York City again soon; how I should love to hear his voice in Schumann’s Dichterliebe! It also seems to me that there are many operatic roles in which he could shine at The Met. For this evening, I again express gratitude to Susan Wadsworth and Young Concert Artists for bringing us another in their series of exemplary recitals.

February 15, 2017