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Guangzhou Ballet @ Lincoln Center

Above: from Guangzhou Ballet‘s production of Carmina Burana as performed at Lincoln Center; photo by Dmitry Beryozkin

~ Author: Oberon

Saturday August 17th, 2019 – Guangzhou, China, is the birthplace of my beloved Wei, so I arranged tickets for us to Guangzhou Ballet’s performance at Lincoln Center tonight. Earlier in the day, my friend Dmitry Beryozkin photographed the dress rehearsal of the production.

Although tested by numerous audience distractions, we stayed to the end because of the impressive work of the Guangzhou Ballet‘s dancers, who are beautifully trained and who excel in both virtuosity and artistry.

Above: from Goddess of the Luo River; photo by Dmitry Beryozkin

Goddess of the Luo River is set to a violin concerto by the venerated Chinese composer Du Mingxin, who is now in his 90th year. The music has both rhythmic and lyrical appeal, though the Adagio begins to feel overly sweet after a while.

The program note for Goddess of the Luo River was basically incomprehensible to me, but the ballet seems to tell of a pair of young lovers yearning to be together, and of the goddess who helps make their dream come true.

Peter Quanz, a Canadian choreographer beloved by my friend Arlene Cooper, has re-staged the Du Mingxin concerto to beautiful effect. Mr. Quanz is a master of classical styling who has a gift for structure and for creating pleasing and musically-inspired combinations. The opening segment of Goddess of the Luo River, danced by an ensemble of women, was emblematic of Mr. Quanz’s work, which sustained our interest for the 30-minute duration of this atmospheric piece.

Against a backdrop of a misty forest river-glade, Goddess of the Luo River unfolds like a blooming flower. If I have read the Playbill correctly, the principal dancers tonight were Fang Afang, Ma Minghao, and Huang Bairnao, and they were all simply entrancing to watch. But in fact, everyone onstage danced gorgeously, with musicality and grace.

At the end, the bow lights cam up and we looked forward to hailing the dancers in their curtain calls, but the applause dwindled away and there were no bows.

Above: from Goddess of the Luo River; Dmitry tells me they only did a brief excerpt from this ballet at the dress rehearsal. Too bad, because there were some lovely passages for the corps and the other featured dancer that I would like to have had photos of.

Following the interval, a three-act choreographic rendering by Qi Jiang of Carl Orff’s Carmina Burana was presented. The score was first performed on June 8, 1937, at Frankfurt, and is a setting of Medieval poems for three solo voices, chorus, and orchestra. This work was Orff’s “greatest hit” (though he wrote some truly fascinating operas) and it became one of the best-known musical works of the 20th century thru its use in film and commercials. Carmina Burana greatly appealed to the Nazi regime, to whom its rhythms were reminders of the “stamping columns of the Third Reich”.

Guangzhou Ballet did not choose one of the many top-notch recordings of the piece for their ballet production but it was very well reproduced over the theater’s sound system. The music has an irresistible emotional force. Han Jiang (scenic designer) and Chen Xiaji (lighting designer) have created a production full of impressive visuals, as you can see from Dmitry Beryozkin’s photos, below.

The Company’s Carmina Burana, however, did not reach the same level of involvement for either Wei or I as the evening’s opening work. It’s nearly an hour long, and there were stretches when the choreography seemed uninspired and repetitive. Perhaps some judicious pruning of the music would have helped make it more coherent: there are stories being told, but they become rambling after a bit.

Such striking moments as the powerful, smoky opening segment with dancers emerging from under a large blanket of fabric, and – especially – the gigantic moon that looms over some scenes kept us focused. But the constant whispering and checking of cellphones by people around us, the amorous boy in front of us who wanted to cuddle his girlfriend, and the continuous undercurrent of a whimpering child somewhere to our left (eventually taken out, with 5 minutes of music left to go) became so aggravating as the ballet progressed. If we could have made a graceful exit (some people did), we would have left midway thru.

But it was nice to see the dancers taking their bows at the end, though these were staged Broadway-style, with a reprise of music from the Orff score.

Here is a gallery of Dmitry Beryozkin’s images from Carmina Burana:

~ Oberon

August 17, 2019
Kuusisto/Sundquist ~ A Little Night Music

Above: the Stanley H. Kaplan Penthouse at Lincoln Center

Author: Ben Weaver

Saturday July 27th, 2019 – Finnish violinist Pekka Kuusisto and Swedish double-bassist Knut Erik Sundquist had a long evening at the Mostly Mozart Festival: first they performed a full concert of Bartok and Vivaldi with the Mostly Mozart Festival Orchestra, conducted by Andrew Manze, followed by a special appearance at the Stanley H. Kaplan Penthouse for a series called A Little Night Music, an intimate one-hour program of music and wine.

Pekka Kuusisto is not your traditional classical violinist. Although classically trained and a winner (first place) of the Jean Sibelius Violin Competition (Kuusisto was the first Finn to win there, in 1995), he spends as much time performing non-classical music as classical. “Crossover” would not be the right word; he’s not necessarily playing arrangements from Cats. But his dedication to playing many different types of music and his improvisational skills place him in a somewhat different category from most other concert violinists. When he does venture into the strictly classical repertoire – as he did last year with a recording of J.S. Bach’s complete Sonatas and Partitas for Solo Violin – the results are unpredictable and often electrifying.

Kuusisto is a dynamic stage personality; encountering him in a small space like the Kaplan Penthouse is a singular experience. With the night-time NYC skyline shining behind the stage, Kuusisto and his frequent stage partner, the great double-bassist Knut Erik Sundquist, easily filled the hour with a wide range of music, hilarious banter (like a vaudeville act, the ease of their interactions can only be perfected over many years of friendship) and sound life advice (after a night of drinking, make sure you go home before you go to bed.)

The duo broke up the musical selections into aptly titled Minuet Section, Sad Section, and Happy Section. The Minuets were courtesy of Bach and traditional Finnish folk dance, played and improvised seamlessly. The middle Sad Section was launched by a mysterious Austrian tune Kuusisto once heard on TV while watching a weather report at the Ischgl ski resort and transcribed for posterity. (Since Kuusisto has never been able to figure out the source of the tune, he simply calls it Memories from Ischgl.) Occasionally he hummed while playing this lovely, orphaned tune. And the final Happy Section of cheerful traditional melodies from Finland and Sweden, and – of all things – a Spanish tango from Poland that’s especially beloved in Finland. (Here I was reminded of a famous line from Edith Wharton’s The Age of Innocence about the opening night of the (Old) Met: “She sang, of course, ‘M’ama!‘ and not ‘he loves me,’ since an unalterable and unquestioned law of the musical world required that the German text of French operas sung by Swedish artists should be translated into Italian for the clearer understanding of English-speaking audiences.”)

The beauty of all this music and the intimacy of the presentation made for a fascinating evening. Kuusisto’s command of his instrument, the ease of the playing, his ability to transform the sound from a “serious violin” to a “dancing fiddle” were extraordinary. The dreamy expression on his face when playing Bach and a Finnish folk tune reveal a deep love and appreciation for music, the source is secondary.

Sometimes classical music lovers can get too hung up on purity. Truth is that music from any source can trigger the deepest feelings and memories: from Traditional to Bach to Cole Porter to Madonna. As the only truly universal language on Earth, music of all kind can bring out every imaginable emotion. This ability to communicate in different musical languages – and helping the audience embrace the differences – may be Kuusisto’s greatest gift to his audience.

~ Ben Weaver

Note: Oberon has written about the July 26th performance of the Suusisto/Lundquist/Manze Four Seasons here.

July 29, 2019
Pekka Kuusisto @ Mostly Mozart

Above: Pekka Kuusisto, photographed by Kappo Kamu

~ Author: Oberon

Friday July 26th, 2019 – An unusual and exciting program at Mostly Mozart this evening as violinist Pekka Kuusisto joined the Mostly Mozart Festival Orchestra under Andrew Manze’s baton. The program featured music of Bartók, plus Mr. Kuusisto’s setting of Vivaldi’s beloved Four Seasons into which folk music from Norway and Finland has been woven.

Béla Bartók’s Romanian Folk Dances, arranged for string orchestra by Arthur Willner, opened the evening on an upbeat note. Mr. Kuusisto and his sidekick, bassist Knut Erik Sundquist, participated as members of the ensemble, further spicing up the already lively music. What a treat to hear these pieces played live! They have an irresistible impulse, to which the two guest soloists introduced embellishments that gave an additional flair.

The six-dance suite commences with Jocul cu bâtă (“Stick Dance”), with an interesting ‘pulling’ rhythm. Then comes the jaunty Brâul (“Sash Dance”), followed by the Pe loc (“In One Spot”) into which Mr. Kuusisto injected a spaced-out, high violin passage. Buciumeana (“Dance from Bucsum”) was my favorite of the dances, being slowish and tinged with sadness. (Sample it is Emmanuel Pahud’s flute rendition here.)

Then came the lively Poarga Românească (“Romanian Polka”) after which Mssrs. Kuusisto and Sundquist lit into a fast and funky duet which morphed into the Mărunțel (“Fast Dance”); here the violinist exceeded the speed limit with his amazing technical facility as well as fancy foot-work – as much fun to watch as to hear. Sweeping on with the orchestra to a grand finale, the players were awarded a vociferous ovation from the crowd for their exhilarating performance.

If Mr. Kuusisto was in the limelight all evening, bassist Knut Erik Sundquist (above) made a vivid impression in his own right. I imagine that. had he not been constrained by holding onto his bass, he would have joined in the dancing. His facial expressions were priceless.

Without intermission, the performance continued with the ultra-familiar Vivaldi Four Seasons, rendered – as if by time-warp – as a fusion of Baroque and contemporary modes, into which Mssrs. Kuusisto and Sundquist interpolated traditional music from Finland and Norway. If you’re going to fiddle around (!) with the classics, this is the way to do it.

The great lilting start of “Spring” was flowing along congenially when suddenly sounds like a swarm of birds were heard. Later, the violas sounded seasick, and later still the drone of a bagpipe was evoked. In “Summer”, the strings melted and drooped, the violin and a cello engaged in an off-pitch dialog, and the music sizzled or soured before turning briskly exciting. A decrescendo brought whispers and falterings; and an en masse turn of the page was truly amusing. A storm breaks, the finale carries on with more interruptions and some scraping motifs.

“Summer” was perhaps the highlight of the Seasons, and a program note mentioned the fact that this concerto is “…built of exclusively unpleasant conditions, (connecting) it with the ongoing climate debate.”

Kuusisto and Sundquist opened “Autumn” with a duet; the music sometimes took on an ‘outer space’ feeling. A snoring woman next to us rather spoilt the effect, but she woke up when Mr. Kuusisto started whistling. The tapping of bows on instruments and a ‘drunken’ passage kept us engaged.

Animated plucking – and a bit of humming from the orchestra members – were among the felicities of “Winter”; Mr. Kuusisto was by now in full “mad violinist” mode, his virtuosity simply mind-boggling.

An enormous standing ovation ensued, the audience clearly thrilled by what they had heard. Maestro Manze and the two soloists were called and re-called, to veritable tsunamis of applause.

Before the concert started, Maestro Manze spoke of what we were about to hear, and he asked that everyone in the audience “..stay to the end…”; I’ve never heard that kind of request at a concert. At any rate, a few people did head for the exits during The Four Seasons. But one woman, who was seated in the stage seats, attempted to leave and was sent back to her seat by an usher.

~ Oberon

July 26, 2019
Bernhard Sönnerstedt

Swedish bass-baritone Bernhard Sönnerstedt studied with Karl Nygren-Kloster, and later at the Stockholm Academy of Music from 1935 to 1938 (with Joseph Hislop and Julia Claussens). After the war, he also worked with Giuseppe de Luca in Milan.

Sönnerstedt debuted the Royal Opera in Stockholm as Prince Gremin in Eugen Onegin. He went on to sing in both opera and recital throughout Scandinavia. Among his operatic roles were Leporello, Mozart’s Figaro, Mephistopheles in Faust, Escamillo, the four Villains in Hoffmann, and King Philip in Don Carlo.

In 1966, at the Stora Theater, Göteborg, Sönnerstedt appeared as Porgy in the Swedish premiere of Porgy and Bess.

As a recitalist and concert artist, Sönnerstedt toured the Scandinavian countries, England, Italy, France, and Switzerland, and had a high reputation as an interpreter of the works of J.S. Bach.

Bernhard Sönnerstedt was a producer of musical broadcasts at the Swedish Radio, and was later appointed managing director of the Stora Theatre, Göteborg. He passed away in 1971.

Bernhard Sönnerstedt – Wolf~Anakreons Grab

July 25, 2019
Vilda Frang @ Mostly Mozart

Above: violinist Vilda Frang/photo from EMI Classics

~ Author: Ben Weaver

Wednesday July 24th, 2019 – Beethoven’s two warhorses were on the program of the Mostly Mozart Festival tonight: the Violin Concerto and the Eroica Symphony, with Andrew Manze presiding over the proceedings.

For the Mostly Mozart Festival, the main auditorium of David Geffen Hall has been transformed into a night-club-like atmosphere (for a couple of years now), with the stage moved up and seating created on the sides and behind the orchestra. Amphitheater-like concert halls have been all the rage in Europe (and to a lesser extent in the US) since the Berlin Philharmonie was built; seemingly every new concert hall replicates that structure. (In the US, Walt Disney Hall, home of the LA Philharmonic, is built the same way). I’ve never been to one of these concert halls, so maybe the acoustics really are ideal 360° around the orchestra in these halls.

I am, however, not convinced that the arrangement being used for the Mostly Mozart concerts improves the sound for anyone inside David Geffen, where the acoustics have been notoriously bad since the theater’s construction in the 1960s and no amount of fiddling has changed that. (It seems that plans to gut the theater and rebuild with a superior interior are permanently shelved again. Apparently NYC and NY Philharmonic do not deserve a world-class concert hall…) Generally, when a large orchestra plays in David Geffen Hall, the sound in the orchestra section is fine, if a bit dense. However, the further up you go, the more the sound disappears. In the highest sections I find that the sound seems to be coming from across the plaza.

I bring up my issues with the acoustics of David Geffen Hall because in these Mostly Mozart Festival performances the size of the orchestra is cut drastically; Andrew Manze, a famed violinist and conductor specializing in early music and period instrument practices, has a unique take on the sound of the orchestra. Even tough the chamber-sized ensemble plays on modern instruments, Maestro Manze’s orchestral balance brought to mind a small period-instrument ensemble. This would have been wonderful if the hall’s acoustics were not mediocre to begin with and as I mentioned above, I’m not convinced the rearrangement of seating in the hall enhances the sound in any way.

It so happens that for Beethoven’s Violin Concerto the light sound of the orchestra was mostly very effective: that’s because Norwegian violinist Vilde Frang, making her MMF debut, delivered a truly unique performance. Beethoven’s demands on the violinist are intense; the concerto shocked the public upon its 1806 premiere. They were not prepared for a long and serious concerto like this: the revolutionary side of Beethoven was definitely part of this work. Ms. Frang, however, did the almost unthinkable: she played one of the most popular works of music in a way I’ve never heard anyone attempt: while abdicating nothing of Beethoven’s power, she delivered a gentle, dreamy performance. If most violinists compete with the orchestra for volume and heft, Frang and Manze joined forces to make the audience lean in: Frang’s frequent pianissimi – quieter than this concerto is used to – floated through the hall like gentle breezes. She never forced the instrument to fight or compete for attention, and Manze never forced the MMF Orchestra either. This was a perfect union of minds and musicians delivering a deeply felt and carefully thought out and fascinating performance. I hope Ms. Frang returns to NYC soon; she is a violinist to watch.

Above: conductor Andrew Manze

Things felt more familiar with the performance of Beethoven’s 3rd Symphony, the famed Eroica. The 1803 work changed the course of music and what a symphony was thought to be; there are now only 2 steps from Beethoven to, say, Mahler (No. 3 to No. 9 to everything that followed.) The opening chords of the Allegro con brio were bright and forceful. The movement unfolded with energy and verve. Marcia funebre was dark and brooding, but seemed closer in spirit to the earlier Violin Concerto than “Beethoven the revolutionary.” To me, the Scherzo is always the most difficult movement to pull off: it seems to not belong to this symphony. Its jollity and energy are closer to Beethoven’s previous two symphonies, not the granitic Eroica. I’m afraid tonight that feeling remained, though the movement was played well. And the final Allegro molto was a perfectly executed march from darkness to triumph.

Except…back to the cursed acoustics of the hall. What was missing was the sound surrounding you, going behind you and coming back to hit the back of your head. The fact that Maestro Manze was using greatly reduced forces isn’t the reason for that; I’ve heard soloists and chamber ensembles at Carnegie Hall deliver ear-shattering sounds. At David Geffen Hall and in MMF’s seating configuration, no matter how much they tried, the sound simply gets lost.

An orchestra like the NY Philharmonic can make the rafters shake through sheer will and size of the ensemble. It truly is a disgrace that a city like New York is incapable of building a hall for its home band and Festival. Maybe MMF should consider moving some of their performances to Carnegie Hall, which seems to be vacant during the summer. Tonight’s wonderful concert by Andrew Manze, Vilde Frang, and Mostly Mozart Festival Orchestra deserved to be heard.

~ Ben Weaver

July 24, 2019
Gia la Pleiade ardente al mar discende…

Above: Eleanor Steber

One of the most poetic love duets in all opera – and one of the few sung by a husband and wife – comes at the end of Act I of Verdi’s OTELLO.

Above: Ramon Vinay

Eleanor Steber & Ramon Vinay – Gia nella notte densa ~ OTELLO

July 24, 2019
Aase Nordmo-Løvberg & Kolbjørn Høiseth

Above: soprano Aase Nordmo-Løvberg

Ms. Nordmo-Løvberg spent most of her career at Oslo and Stockholm. She was a highly-regarded soprano who worked with top conductors (such as Karajan and Solti). She sang at the Vienna State Opera, and gave a dozen performances at The Met in 1959-1960 singing Elsa, Eva, Sieglinde, and Beethoven’s Leonore.

Above: the Norwegian tenor Kolbjørn Høiseth

Mr. Høiseth’s career took him to London, Berlin, Stockholm, Lyon, and Bordeaux as well as numerous German houses. He specialized in Wagner and Verdi, also appearing in WOZZECK, FIDELIO, and ELEKTRA.

In 1975, the tenor sang Froh in RHEINGOLD (in which role I saw him twice) at The Metropolitan Opera, where he also appeared as Siegmund in a single performance of WALKURE. His voice had a lyric quality, but also ample power when needed.

Aase Nordmo Løvberg & Kolbjørn Høiseth – WALKURE – ACT I scene – Stockholm 1963

July 22, 2019
…à toi l’enfer!

Abandoned by Faust, and pregnant with his child, Marguerite goes to church to pray. There, she is menaced by the voice of Méphistophélès, the devil incarnate, who tells her she is going to Hell.

FAUST ~ Church Scene – Gabriella Tucci & Justino Diaz – Met 1966

July 19, 2019
…à toi l’enfer!

Abandoned by Faust, and pregnant with his child, Marguerite goes to church to pray. There, she is menaced by the voice of Méphistophélès, the devil incarnate, who tells her she is going to Hell.

FAUST ~ Church Scene – Gabriella Tucci & Justino Diaz – Met 1966

July 18, 2019
Teatro Nuovo ~ LA STRANIERA

Above: composer Vincenzo Bellini

~ Author: Oberon

Wednesday July 17th, 2019 – Will Crutchfield’s Teatro Nuovo presenting Bellini’s rarely-performed opera LA STRANIERA at Rose Hall in the Jazz at Lincoln Center home-space. The semi-staged performance featured the following cast:

Alaide (La Straniera) – Christine Lyons, soprano
Isoletta – Alina Tamborini, soprano
Arturo – Derrek Stark, tenor
Valdeburgo – Steven LaBrie, baritone
Il Priore – Vincent Grana, bass
Montolino – Dorian McCall, bass-baritone
Osburgo – Isaac Frishman, tenor

Chorus and Orchestra of Teatro Nuovo
Will Crutchfield, maestro al cembalo
Jakob Lehmann, primo violino e capo d’orchestra

Written in 1829, LA STRANIERA was Bellini’s fourth opera. It has, in the last 50 years, been briefly associated with such bel canto paragons as Renata Scotto and Montserrat Caballe. One of the Scotto performances, from Palermo 1968, was in my reel-to-reel collection for years; hearing the opera live tonight brought back memories of enjoying her persuasive styling of this music.

In terms of plot, the opera borders on the risible: a queen (Alaide, known as La Straniera – the “Foreign Woman”) has been living incognito in a hut by a lake. She has inspired the love of the local Count Arturo, who murders a supposed rival who is in fact Alaide’s brother. Somehow, it’s Alaide who is accused of having committed the murder; but at her trial, the dead man suddenly shows up, saying he had fallen into the lake. Things muddle on until the king’s messenger appears to tell Alaide (turns out she’s the Queen of France) that she must resume the throne as the ‘other’ queen has died. At this news, the still-smitten Count Arturo kills himself, and Alaide has the obligatory mad scene. As with so many operas written in this time period, the story line is merely an excuse for a lot of singing.

Musically, LA STRANIERA has its moments but they are rather few and far between. There’s an awful lot of filler, most of it pleasant enough…but it’s music that rarely grips the imagination. There is no feeling of a musico-dramatic arc in the opera, but rather a series of disjointed scenes in which the story’s convoluted twists and turns make minimal sense. Above all, if these old operas are to be revived, the singing must be spectacular.

Vocally, the opening scene for Valdeburgo and Isoletta was really impressive and augured well for the rest of the evening. Baritone Steven LaBrie has a handsome voice, sizeable and expressive, with a gift for dramatic nuance. As Isoletta, a hapless bride-to-be, Alina Tamborini displayed a most interesting timbre, with a trace of flicker-vibrato that was very appealing. She has the wide range demanded by the composer – clear high notes and plush low ones – and a lovely trill.

Tenor Derrek Stark’s sustained opening note of his long introductory recitative assured us that his would be a pleasing voice to hear in Arturo’s plentiful music. Later, in uncomprehending anger, Mr. Stark unleashed a brilliant top note that sent wave of murmuring approval thru the hall. The tenor’s flashy jacket was something of a visual distraction, though.

Just as the onstage harp solo announcing the appearance of La Straniera (Alaide) sounded, the man sitting behind us began rummaging thru his belongings; he continued, undeterred by dirty looks and shushing. I think he was looking for a sandwich. This interruption was the beginning of ongoing deterrents to my concentration.

Soprano Christine Lyons’s offstage opening lines did not intrigue; her voice had a throaty quality which – luckily – would soon become less evident. As the first act unfolded, the soprano produced many fine passages, with a good feel for dynamics and for the text. In her scenes with Mr. LaBrie and Mr. Stark, Ms. Lyons offered expressive singing, with an appealing sense of the character’s vulnerability.

Having been accused of murdering Valdeburgo, Alaide has a ‘mad scene’ in which she incoherently tries to explain to the angered townspeople why she is holding a bloody sword. The vocal demands here, which come in fits and starts, brought out a weighted chest voice from the soprano that seemed better suited to verismo than bel canto.

While all this was happening, the hall had become freezing due to air conditioning overkill. A woman in the front row kept checking her phone, the screen flashing brightly. In front of us were a whispering couple. Across the aisle, a squeaky chair added an unwanted obbligato to the music. And the young primo violino e capo d’orchestra, seated at audience level, was animated to the point of distraction.

Midway thru the intermission, we decided that Bellini had delighted us long enough.

~ Oberon

July 17, 2019