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Maxim Vengerov @ Carnegie Hall

Above: violinist Maxim Vengerov

~ Author: Oberon

Tuesday October 30th, 2018 – Three wonderfully contrasted violin sonatas were on offer tonight at Carnegie Hall as the renowned Maxim Vengerov took the stage, joined by the excellent Roustem Saïtkoulov at the Steinway.

About ten years ago, Mr. Vengerov – as most classical music-lovers know – developed a mysterious arm/shoulder ailment that took nearly four years to diagnose and treat. He returned to the stage in 2012, and I first heard him live in 2015, playing the Tchaikovsky violin concerto with the New York Philharmonic. It was a thrilling performance, and tonight I was very excited to be hearing him again. In the grand and glorious setting of Carnegie Hall tonight, Mssrs. Vengerov and Saïtkoulov made a most congenial collaboration, to the great benefit of the music they’d chosen, and to the great delight of the audience.

Johannes Brahms’ Violin Sonata No. 3 in D-Minor is in four movements rather than the more usual three. It opens with an achingly romantic lyrical theme, aglow with passionate colours. The Vengerov/Saïtkoulov partnership brought a lot of nuance to the music, with a lovely dynamic palette and finely dovetailed modulations. In a heartfelt piano passage, Mr. Saïtkoulov’s playing moved me. An intoxicating, soulful finish seemed to entrance the audience.

The Adagio commences with a wistful melody, sublimely tailored; the players’ astute attention to dynamics again kept up their intriguing effect. The familiar descending theme of this movement brought a feeling of plushy, Olde World magic, but then a dropped program booklet and a cellphone intrusion ruined the ending.

Rhythmic vitality, and some charming plucking motifs, adorned the Scherzo, which has a somewhat sentimental quality: no mere jesting here.

Then players immediately launched the concluding Presto agitato, full of great swirls of notes and a rich mix of colours. Syncopations are at work here; the music builds and subsides, and then re-bounds in a rush to the finish. Prolonged applause, but the players did not come out for a bow.

George Enescu wrote his Violin Sonata No. 2 in F-Minor at the age of seventeen, reportedly in the space of a fortnight. Mssrs. Vengerov and Saïtkoulov play in unison for the sonata’s rather mysterious start. Turbulence is stirred up, but reverts to the unison motif. The piano then shimmers as the violin sings above with rising passion. Vengerov and Saïtkoulov both demonstrated great control of dynamics as the music took on a restless quality. They play in unison again, moving to a quiet finish.

A sad song opens the second movement, marked Tranquillement, pervaded by a strangely lovely feeling of melancholy. Again Mr. Vengerov displays pinpoint control of line in an affecting soft theme that rises to an exquisite sustained note. There’s a darkish quality from the piano as the violin is plucked. Then: a sudden stop. The music resumes – so quietly – with a shivering violin tremolo. The ending is simply gorgeous.

The concluding movement, marked simply Vif (“Lively”), starts off all wit and sparkle; both musicians savor the animation, tossing in wry soft notes from time to time. The music turns briefly grand, then softens, and the liveliness resumes. The players are on the verge of exceeding the speed limit when they suddenly veer into an unexpected ‘romance’. But wit prevails in the end.

Above: pianist Roustem Saïtkoulov

Maurice Ravel’s Violin Sonata was premiered in Paris on May 30, 1927, with none other than George Enescu as violin soloist, and Ravel himself at the piano. The opening Allegretto starts quietly, with a piano theme that is taken up by the violin. Mr. Vengerov sweetens his tone here, making the most of the melodic possibilities. The violin trembles over a shadowy piano passage, and then a transportive lyricism builds, with the violin rising and lingering. A heavenly conclusion: sustained violin tone over a shimmering piano.

To open the Blues: Moderato, the violinist plucks in altering soft and emphatic notes. The piano sounds rather glum at first, then starts pulsing persuasively as the violin gets jazzy, bending the phrases enticingly.

From a gentle start, the Perpetuum mobile finale lives up to its name. The piano goes scurrying along, and Mr. Vengerov turns into a speed demon. The music rocks along – Rhapsody in Blue and Fascinatin’ Rhythm are evoked briefly – with the violinist verging on manic whilst Mr. Saïtkoulov’s playing stays light and luminous.

The concluding works on the printed program both felt very much like encores: Heinrich Ernst’s decorative incarnation of The Last Rose of Summer and Nicolo Paganini’s super-elaborate take on the great aria Di tanti palpiti from Rossini’s TANCREDI (arranged by Fritz Kreisler) each had an “everything-but-the-kitchen-sink” feeling. Mr. Vengerov managed the fireworks well, drawing a celebratory audience response. My feeling was that one or the other of these two virtuoso pieces would have sufficed.

As an encore, Fritz Kreisler’s Caprice Viennois was beautifully played. The audience then began streaming out. We were in the lobby when we heard a second encore commencing; but it was too late to double back.

~ Oberon

October 30, 2018
Weilerstein|Bychkov ~ All-Dvořák @ Carnegie Hall

Above: cellist Alisa Weilerstein

Author: Ben Weaver

Saturday October 27th, 2018 – The Czech Philharmonic Orchestra, under the direction of its chief conductor and music director Semyon Bychkov, rolled into Carnegie Hall on Saturday, October 27th for a two-concert visit. The first concert was an all-Dvořák program which featured two of the composer’s greatest works: the Cello Concerto (with soloist Alisa Weilerstein) and Symphony No. 7.

Dvořák’s Cello Concerto was composed in New York City in 1894-95. Dvořák had long-held reservations about a concerto for the instrument: an early effort to write one in 1865 was left unfinished and lost until 1925; attempts by scholars to reconstruct it for performance have met with mixed results. But Dvořák was so impressed by a New York Philharmonic performance of Victor Herbert’s Cello Concerto No. 2 that he decided to try again. (Herbert, a highly successful composer of operettas in his own right, was principal cellist of the NY Philharmonic.) The resulting cello concerto by Dvořák, in the key of B minor, is arguably the greatest one of all. Brahms, for example, exclaimed: “Why on earth didn’t I know that a person could write a violoncello concerto like this? If I had only known, I would have written one long ago.”

The opening Allegro begins with a mournful clarinet solo, a melody that reappears throughout the movement – and returns in the second half of the final movement. The cello enters playing the same melody, though in a different key. Alisa Weilerstein is one of the finest cellists in the world today and she held the audience spellbound with her passionate, emotionally generous and technically precise playing. With Maestro Bychkov, and an orchestra that has Dvořák in their bones, this was a performance from all that could not be improved. (Special recognition for the magnificent, soulful horn solo playing by, I assume from the roster, Kateřina Javůrková.) The lovely second movement, Adagio, contains Dvořák’s tribute to his dying sister-in-law Josefina (with whom he was secretly in love). He revised the finale of the concerto after returning to Prague and learning that Josefina had died. Dvořák inserted a melancholy section right before the end of the work. He wrote to the publisher: “The finale closes gradually, diminuendo – like a breath…”

The audience greeted Ms. Weilerstein’s performance with a warm standing ovation. Weilerstein’s control of the instrument is superb. She manages to produce a million colors of sound, the rich and warm tone of her cello glows. The audience kept calling her to return, no doubt hoping for an encore. Alas, not on this night. But it’s hard to top perfection anyway.

After the intermission the orchestra performed what many consider to be Dvořák’s finest symphony, No. 7, commissioned by the London Philharmonic Society in 1884. Dvořák himself conducted the premiere in 1885. The symphony opens with a sinister theme from the lower strings. This melody, and the dark mood, dominate the movement and haunt the rest of the symphony. No. 7 has a reputation as Dvořák’s tragic work and many conductors emphasize the darkness. But maestro Bychkov and the orchestra find more nuance here. Despite the somber mood of the opening movement there is plenty of humor too, including a lively Scherzo that could have been rejected from Dvořák’s Slavonic Dances. It is a truly great Symphony, even if has not gained the popularity of Symphonies Nos. 8 and 9. And the Czech Philharmonic plays it better than anyone.

The glowing strings, warm brass (no barking here), and the obvious love they have for this music are incomparable. Although most great orchestras can play everything well, there is something to be said for orchestras of a composer’s native land taking precedence in how their music can and should sound. Russians play Tchaikovsky better than anyone, Czech musicians do it with with Dvořák and Janáček, the French play French in ways most others simply don’t, an Italian voice can do things with a Verdi line that no one else can, etc. It’s not just about all the notes being played – any decent orchestra can do that – it’s about how the musicians feel about those notes. And this great orchestra clearly feels Dvořák’s music in a singular way. It’s not just love for the music, it’s pride in the music. It is impossible to replicate anywhere else.

You could hear and feel this uniqueness tonight, especially in the two encores: two Slavonic Dances, the lilting Starodávný (Op. 72, No. 2; surely one of Dvořák’s most memorable melodies) and the thrilling Furiant (Op. 46, No. 8). If you didn’t sway or tap along to this music, if you didn’t sing it to yourself, you weren’t doing it right.

~ Ben Weaver

October 28, 2018
Percussion and Piano @ Carnegie

~Author: Scoresby

Friday October 26 2018 – As the first concert in her six-part Perspectives residency at Carnegie Hall, Yuja Wang decided to do a thought-provoking collaboration with percussionists. It is great that instead of playing standard repertoire, Ms. Wang is using her platform to push her audience into more unfamiliar repertoire, such as her recital in Carnegie last season and this performance. Here, she was working with some of the all-stars of the percussion world: Martin Grubinger, his father Martin Grubinger Sr, Alexander Georgiev, and Leonhard Schmidinger for an incredibly fun evening. Unfortunately, the performance was billed as “Yuja Wang, piano and Martin Grubinger, percussion” with the other percussionists relegated to small lettering. The program didn’t even mention which percussionists played on which of the works. Oddly, no instrumentation was given for each work, instead just “piano and percussion”, despite a litany of different percussion instruments used. Nonetheless, Ms. Wang and Mr. Grubinger did give credit to their colleagues and this truly was a collaborative performance between all five musicians.

Above: In the throes of the Bartók (from left to right): Leonhard Schmidinger, Alexander Georgiev, Yuja Wang, Martin Grubinger Sr, and Martin Grubinger; Photo Credit: Chris Lee

The program began with Bartók’s Sonata for Two Piano and Percussion arranged for one piano and percussion by Martin Grubinger Sr. This was the most successful of the arrangements of the evening. Along with the Music for Strings, Percussion, and Celesta, this is Bartók at his most avant-garde with many references to jazz, interesting instrumentation, and spiky melodies. The biggest change to the score in this arrangement was splitting one of the piano parts into two marimbas played by exceptionally like one instrument by Mr. Grubinger and Mr. Georgiev – their coordination was almost surreal. The traditional percussion was played by Mr. Schmidinger and Mr. Grubinger Sr. The impact that this changed the entire timbre of the piece, becoming less incisive in a way but far more colorful. In a way it made the music sound even more avantgarde. In the mysterious opening chords after the rumbling timpani played by Martin Grubinger Sr, the aggressive playing of Ms. Wang was contrasted with the light tremolos on the marimba.

With two pianos this texture sounds more like an attack, but the woodiness of the marimbas added a lighter atmosphere and made Ms. Wang’s piano seem more percussive. It was a brilliant play to highlight the piano playing while improving the music making. Ms. Wang for her part seemed to naturally get the score switching from whacking chords for emphasize to lyrical furtive blending into the ensemble. In the second movement, Bartók employs his night music in a classic tenary form. Ms. Wang’s evocative playing here with the military-esque sound of the percussion and softness of the Marimbas worked well in tandem to produce an unusual Messiaen-like ethereal sound.

Mr. Grubinger and Mr. Georgiev exchanged more and more agitated lines with Ms. Wang leading into the virtuosic agitato with ripples of arpeggios punctuated by chords. Ms. Wang silvery sound moved through the dead hits of percussion, a dialogue less apparent in the original score. The group whipped its way through the Stravinsky-esque finale capturing a raw energy.

The sold-out crowd seemed somewhat confused by the music, perhaps a little too avant-garde for their taste – but to me it was thrilling. Luckily for most of the crowd the group came back onstage to play Martin Grubinger Sr.’s arrangement of John Psathas’s Etude from One Study for three percussionists and piano. This work is a virtuosic piece that riffs through a bunch different sequences and Mr. Grubinger Sr. made sure that each instrument got its own fun solo to show off. It was the perfect piece for some levity after the serious Bartók and genuinely sounded more in the idiom of a rock concert by the end of the etude, causing the crowd to roar with applause.

The second half of the program began with another Martin Grubinger Sr. Arrangement: this time of The Rite of Spring for one piano and three percussionists. Mr. Grubinger Sr.’s arrangement of this was magical, using elements of the two piano and one piano versions of the piece combined with marimba, vibraphone, chimes along with Stravinsky’s percussion of timpani, woodblock, washboard etc… to produce a completely unique sound that still paid homage to the original. It is incredibly unfortunate that the Stravinsky Estate decided a few weeks before this tour to ban this group from performing the work anywhere in which the copyright of the piece is still in effect (US being the only place where it is lifted), so this ended up being the second and last performance of the tour.

The group after the final applause (left to right): Martin Grubinger, Leonhard Schmidinger, Alexander Georgiev, Yuja Wang, and Martin Grubinger Sr.

The opening was flush with color using the vibraphone as the bassoon mixed with humming tremolos from the piano and marimba to slowly build into the percussive attacks of the Augurs of Spring. The explosive last few movements such as the Ritual of the Rival Tribes and the Dance of the Earth of the first part were where this arrangement really shined, sounding at once razor-sharp and still managing to capture Stravinsky’s innovative instrumentation. In the introduction to Part II, the primordial timbres were still achieved by Mr. Georgiev bowing the vibraphone (and perhaps bowed glass too?) producing an eerie metallic sound mixed with the light woody marimba of Mr. Grubinger and a base structure of Ms. Wang’s piano playing the string part of the score.

After those first two movements of Part II, the balance seemed quite off with the percussion absorbing all of Ms. Wang’s sound. Nonetheless, all four performances gave a virtuosic and energized performance. Interestingly, the percussion seemed less precise than Ms. Wang’s piano, particularly in the final section of the piece during the complicated rhythmic playing. The percussion chosen wasn’t able to stop its vibration quick enough, so some of the crisp beats sounded muddier from the bleeding sound. Still, the group seemed in perfect sync with one another, this was true ensemble playing.

To end the performance (personally it seemed odd to me to have anything after The Rite, given how climactic it is already), the group played Mr. Grubinger Sr.’s arrangement of Leticia Gómez-Tagle’s solo piano arrangement the popular orchestral work by Arturo Márquez Danzon No. 2. This poppy but fun piece was thoroughly enjoyable if a little light after The Rite. Ms. Wang seemed to really dig into the opening tango and enjoy the many different Latin American rhythms that come as the piece develops. The group did a good job keeping this fun and energized. After a thunderous applause Ms. Wang and Mr. Grubinger gave an encore of the two of them playing Jesse Sieff’s Chopstankovich, which essentially a virtuosic snare drum part added to Shostakovich String Quartet’s No. 8’s intense second movement (in this case, the string part performed by Ms. Wang on piano). It was a fun little encore to cap the evening’s eccentric program. It was a wonderful collaborative program that broke the more staid conservative environment with some of the best musicians around.

— Scoresby

October 28, 2018
Bychkov|Czech Philharmonic ~ Mahler 2nd

Above: Maestro Semyon Bychkov

Author: Oberon

Sunday October 28th, 2019 matinee – Attending a performance of the Mahler 2nd invariably fills me with memories of past performances of the work that I have experienced. By far the most meaningful of these came at Carnegie Hall in December 2001 when my late friend Makiko Narumi sang the solo alto part in a performance by the Juilliard Orchestra. She was suffering from a rare form of cancer, but heroically she sang…and moved everyone to tears with her “Urlicht“. She left Carnegie Hall in a wheelchair that night, and never sang in public again. She flew to Japan in March 2002 to seek treatment there, but she died at her parents’ home in Aomori within a month.

This afternoon, back at Carnegie, the great conductor Semyon Bychkov led the Czech Philharmonic in a rendering of this Mahler masterpiece that was not quite the soul-stirring experience I had been anticipating; the reasons for this were mainly extra-musical.

The conductor’s pacing of the work was flawless, and there were long paragraphs of superbly layered sound from the orchestra. The symphony’s epic climaxes and their ensuing ebbing away were impeccably judged by the Maestro. The courtly opening of the second movement, and the ‘Halloween’ dance of the third reminded me yet again of what a great work the Mahler 2nd truly is. Full-bodied strings and expert solo woodwind playing gave a great deal of pleasure, and the chorus played their part in the proceedings to wonderful effect.

These positive elements were somewhat offset by some fluffed brass playing, and by vocal soloists who were more serviceable than inspiring. Mezzo-Soprano Elisabeth Kulman sounded lovely in the very quiet start of the Urlicht; later, a trace of flatness crept in, and the concluding rising phrase of the song seemed a bit unsupported. She sounded fine, though, in the later O glaube! Soprano Christiane Karg’s upper notes were somewhat tremulous, though overall her sound is appealing.

But it was a series of noises in the hall that eventually took on a comic aspect – due to their frequency and timing – which made concentrating on the music next to impossible. It started during a dead silence midway thru the symphony’s opening Allegro maestoso; and it happened again during the Andante moderato. Then, just as Ms. Kulman was starting the Urlicht, there was a loud thud. And something else was dropped during an offstage brass passage.

In the final movement, everything at last seemed to be going smoothly – aside from some wonky brass notes and yet another dropped item – until the chorus made their hushed entrance. Here, atmosphere is everything. But the sound of a door closing somewhere ruined it.

When so many earth-bound distractions occur in the course of a single symphony, one feels battered down. My high expectations for this concert were slowly frittered away as the afternoon wore on.

Considering my abiding love for the Mahler 2nd, this is not at all the type of article I thought I’d be writing this evening. But an accumulation of ordinary annoyances – there were others that I haven’t mentioned – got the upper hand today.

NOTE: Ben Weaver writes about the Czech Philharmonic’s opening performance at Carnegie Hall, which took place on Saturday evening, October 27th, here. Ben was with me at the Mahler matinee, and said that the blips in the brass playing on Sunday were nowhere evident in the Dvořák program. He felt in general that the orchestra players might have been experiencing some fatigue on Sunday afternoon following a big program on Saturday night. He also said that the Dvořák program was free of audience distractions and extraneous noises.

~ Oberon

October 27, 2018
Ensemble Connect @ Weill Hall

Above: composer Gabriella Smith

~ Author: Brad S Ross

Monday October 22nd, 2018 – It was a cold night in New York City—one of those now all-too-often days where summer seems to have skipped fall entirely and moved straight into winter. Respite could be found for the audience at the Weill Recital Hall in Carnegie Hall, however, where the immensely talented players Ensemble Connect brought some much-needed warmth to a small percentage of classical music lovers.

Ensemble Connect is a two-year fellowship program with Carnegie Hall that comprises some of the finest young players in the United States. These musicians hail from some of the nation’s top music schools, including, as the program noted, the Curtis Institute of Music, the Juilliard School, the Peabody Institute, and the University of Southern California, among others. Indeed, there was not one sour note or poorly delivered phrase of the entire evening.

The concert began with György Ligeti’s Six Bagatelles for Wind Quartet—a set of six short movements adapted from his larger piano work Musica ricercata. Written in 1953 while the composer lived in Communist Hungary, the piece is a texturally rich and rhythmically adventurous foretaste of the polyphonic styles for which he would later come to fame with such works as Atmosphères and Lux aeterna. Six Bagatelles opens on an amusing Allegro con spirito followed by an attractively dissonant Rubato: Lamentoso, a warm and pulsing Allegro grazioso, a spirited Presto ruvido, a richly mysterious Adagio: Mesto (written in memoriam of the composer Béla Bartók), and an energetic Molto vivace that cheekily concludes the work. Performed with precision and zest by the members of Ensemble Connect, it was a delightful demonstration of mature musical humor—a rare quality in classical music.

Next was the New York premiere Anthozoa, a 2018 Ensemble Connect commission written for violin, cello, piano, and percussion by the young American composer Gabriella Smith. Anthozoa, as Smith explained in a brief pre-performance talk, was inspired by recordings that the composer made while scuba diving of sea life (its unique title derives from a class of marine invertebrates that encompasses corals and sea anemones). It opened on a colorful percussion solo that is quickly joined by prepared piano, sliding pizzicato cello, and unpitched strikes on the violin. Lengthy and propulsive soundscapes shifted throughout its twelve-minute duration revealing at times otherworldly sonorities. Dramatic piano chords gradually emerged underneath a rushing full-ensemble crescendo before receding into a somber, elegiac diminuendo that faded to a silent finale. Extended technique abounded in Anthozoa, which was as much fun to watch as it was to hear, and Smith received a well-earned ovation—perhaps the longest of the evening—before the concert paused for intermission. It’s a colorful and invigorating new work, one that will hopefully find many more performances in the future.

Above: composer Kaija Saariaho, photographed by Maarit Kytöharju

Following intermission was Light and Matter for violin, cello, and piano by the Finnish composer Kaija Saariaho. Saariaho, who by now must be counted among the finest composers alive, more than lived up to her reputation here as a master of the craft. Written during the autumn of 2014, Light and Matter was conceived, as the composer put it, “while watching from my window the changing light and colors of Morningside Park.” Menacing pulses open from the lower registers of the piano and cello before being joined by a belated violin. Once combined, they exchange a series of vivid textures and haunting atmospheres that cast a hypnotic spell for the piece’s twelve-minute duration. This aptly complimented the October evening of its performance.

The most warmth was brought to the proceedings with the final piece of the night, Johannes Brahms’s Clarinet Trio in A-minor. Composed in 1891, the trio marked Brahms’s return to composition after he considering retiring one year before. This is owed to his admiration of the clarinetist Richard Mühlfeld, whom Brahms regarded as “a master of his instrument.” Clarinetists may be forever grateful of this relationship, which also led to the composition of his Clarinet Quintet in 1891 and two Clarinet Sonatas in 1894. The Clarinet Trio, cast in four movements over approximately twenty-four minutes, comprises an inviting Allegro, a wistful Adagio, a buoyant Andantino grazioso, and an upbeat Allegro that sings the work to its final minor chord. The trio’s sweeping musical gestures and warm consonances were the very apex of Romanticism; this, combined with the relative coziness of the Weill Recital Hall, made for a sumptuous conclusion before players and audience retired into the chilly night air.

All of the musicians performed with the seemingly effortless mastery we’ve come to expect from such things, though it’s easy to forget sometimes just how much work and dedication got them there. Each deserves a mention, and to this end I will oblige; they were the hornist Wilden Dannenberg, the cellist Ari Evan, the pianist Tomer Gerwirtzman, the percussionist Sae Hashimoto, the violinist Jennifer Liu, the clarinetist Noémi Sallai, the flautist Leo Sussman, the oboist Tamara Winston, and the bassoonist Yen-Chen Wu. All should be cherished for their well-honed talents and can hopefully anticipate bright careers ahead.

~ Brad S Ross

October 26, 2018
Shaham|Sokhiev @ The New York Philharmonic

Above: violinist Gil Shaham and conductor Tugan Sokhiev, photo by Chris Lee/NY Philharmonic

~ Author: Oberon

Thursday October 25th, 2018 – An all-Russian evening at The New York Philharmonic. Tugan Sokhiev, Music Director of Orchestre National du Capitole de Toulouse, was making his Philharmonic debut on the podium, with Gil Shaham as violin soloist.

Alexander Borodin composed In the Steppes of Central Asia to honor Tsar Alexander II on the 25th anniversary of his coronation. The eight-minute work has an ethereal start, from which emerges a plaintive clarinet solo played by Pascual Martínez-Forteza; this artist’s sumptuous tone was a joy to hear throughout the evening. Maestro Sokhiev held sway over the music, which was gorgeously played – especially by the celli. Solos for English Horn and flute, a rich passage for the horns, and the violins in a tutti of cinematic sweep kept the ear constantly allured. The music becomes majestic, worthy of a venerable Tsar.

As the work progressed, I was very much put in mind of the composer’s opera Prince Igor, and found myself wondering where Peter Gelb’s expensive poppy field might be languishing.

Mr. Shaham then joined the orchestra for Prokofiev’s Violin Concerto No. 1. This work was choreographed by Jerome Robbins in 1979; the ballet, Opus 19/The Dreamer, is by far my favorite from the Robbins catalog, and is frequently performed by the New York City Ballet. It’s always wonderful to experience music I’ve come to know at the ballet in its original concert setting, and it goes without saying that the choreography danced in my mind during Mr. Shaham’s marvelous performance.

Prokofiev’s knack for blending lyricism and irony was a continual source of pleasure in tonight’s performance by Mssrs. Shaham and Sokhiev. The concerto’s haunting opening, with the shining, silver – almost astringent – sound of Mr. Shaham’s violin draws us into a dreamlike state. Everything is magical, with the violas pulsing as the soloist engages in shimmering fiorature. The music becomes driven, only to meld into a slow cadenza. Then a chill sets in, with the flute shimmering. Mr. Shaham, returning to the original melody, lets the sound vanish into thin air.

In the ensuing Scherzo, the music abounds in sarcasm; Mr. Shaham met all the technical demands with impetuous energy, including some really gritty playing. This is such amazing music to experience, right up to its sudden end.

The the work’s final movement commences with a moderate-tempo, march-like theme, first played by the bassoon, and later by the brass. Mr. Shaham’s playing of the songful melodies Prokofiev gifts him was luxuriantly modulated. His tone taking on a nocturnal iridescence, the violinist made the concerto’s final moments pure heaven.

Mr. Shaham played a 30-second delight of an encore his announcement of which I could not hear. It was witty little treat, but a cellphone interjection at the start was not welcome.

Above: Maestro Tugan Sokhiev, photo by Patrice Nin

I last heard Tchaikovsky’s Symphony No. 4 played by the Philharmonic in 2016 in at performance that impressed and even thrilled me sonically, without reaching me on a spiritual level. Tonight, Maestro Sokhiev achieved that last distinction in a performance of soaring lyricism and searing passion, played splendidly by the orchestra. Perhaps it is true that it takes a conductor with a Russian soul to find the deepest resonances of Russian music.

Tchaikovsky’s fourth symphony grew out of a highly emotional period of the composer’s life. After a disastrous attempt at marriage, he suffered from writer’s block whilst also struggling with depression and pondering his sexuality. He finished the symphony in 1877 and it was premiered in 1888. The the opening bars of music stand as a metaphor for Fate; in Tchaikovsky’s own words: “…the fatal power which prevents one from attaining the goal of happiness”.

This evening’s performance was thrilling in every way. From the splendid opening and straight thru to the end, the orchestra were on peak form. The depth of sound from the ensemble – and the numerous solo passages that frequently sing forth – constantly impressed, and the Maestro had everything under fingertip control. From the grandest imperial passages to the uncanny delicacy of the more restrained moments, his mastery of colour and balance seemed ideal. My companion for the evening, Ben Weaver, who knows this music inside out, was very taken with Sokhiev’s pacing ,which made the symphony seem fresh to him.

The Philharmonic’s soloists produced an endless flow of enchanting playing: Mr. Forteza and his colleagues – Robert Langevin (flute), Sherry Sylar (oboe), and Judith LeClair (bassoon) – seized upon the generous melodic gifts which Tchaikovsky lavished upon them. The horns were plush, the trumpets and trombones commanding in their fanfares. The timpanist was a marvel of velvet touch is the waltzy passage of the first movement, and in the ‘interlude’ of the otherwise Allegro finale, the triangle sounded with a pristine glimmer.

There seemed to be a particular sheen on the string playing tonight, and they made the pizzicati of the Scherzo dazzlingly alive. Watching Maestro Sokhiev cue them and entice their keen manipulation of the dynamic range during this captivating movement was a treat in itself.

In recent days, the feeling that we are poised now of the edge of an abyss makes music, poetry, art, and Nature seem more vivid and essential than ever. A beautiful face among the crowd tonight captured my imagination, but filled me with apprehension that such innocence may soon be swept away in a tide of hatred.

~ Oberon

October 25, 2018
Aimard | Stefanovich @ Carnegie

~Author: Scoresby

Thursday October 25 2018 – The difference between hearing a particular musician live versus hearing a recording of them can be extraordinary. For Pierre-Laurent Aimard and Tamara Stefanovich‘s two piano performance in Carnegie’s Zankel Hall, I was excited by the repertoire but unsure how it would be performed. Familiar with Mr. Aimard’s many recordings but never having heard him live, I have always thought of him as a thoughtful, but somewhat understated pianist. This duo proved me wrong in one of the most exciting and beautiful performances I’ve heard in the past few years.

Pierre-Laurent Aimard and Tamara Stefanovich during last night’s recital; Photo Credit: Steve Sherman

This was a concert of equals, exchange, and contrasts. To begin the program, they selected seven works from Bartok’s Mikrokosmos. For those who haven’t studied piano, the Mikrokosmos occupy an odd place: wonderful short studies meant to illuminate aspects of technique/musical thinking ranging from the beginner (Book 1) to virtuoso performer (Book 6). Bartok made sure that each of these were compositionally interesting and many are imbued with folksy melodies.

The short selection Ms. Stefanovich and Mr. Aimard drew from covered the range of styles. One was the Debussy like Chord and Trill Study in which Mr. Aimard played a constant Debussy-like trill to Ms. Stafanovich’s chordal melody. The light touch and exquisite pedaling made this short study shine. In the aptly named New Hungarian Folk Song (originally for voice and piano), they brought out the Messiaen-like textures in the base chords below the lyrical melody. To end the selections they played the Ligeti-like Ostinato trading accents and rhythms with each other. It was a nice launching point for the rest of the evening.

Next was Ravel’s very early work Sites auriculaires which consists of a Habanera in the first movement and a second movement titled Between bells. In the Habanera, Mr. Aimard plucked out a sensual low pulse that is kept quietly moving through the movement while Ms. Stefanovich brought a clean sound to the more melodic part. The performers made the most of the luscious bell-like sonorities in the opening of Between bells that sound like later Ravel, full of whole tones with large dynamics. The silken middle section was given a soft pedaling and lots of space to let the notes resonate.

The major work on the first half of the program was the US Premiere of Harrison Birtwistle’s Keyboard Engine, A Construction for Two Pianos. Like the rest of the program, this piece is a study in opposites: ranging from dynamics, thematic material between performers, rhythmic contrasts, toccata like lines paired with heavy chords, and many others. The two pianos seem split in this material – always interrupting the other with its contrast, sometimes aligning to produce a new sonority altogether. After a dodecaphonic sounding start of quiet repetitious notes the music roars to life with sudden loud dynamics in the extreme registers of the piano. The pianos are slowly exchanging a call and answer type format and the dialogue between them becomes more frenzied. After a brief respite with dreamy material, a rapid pace ensues with an ostinato that is punctuated by polyrhythms in both instruments. Both performers seemed to gleefully indulge interrupting the other’s lines and hitting giant chords in sync.

These spacious and frenzied passages continue to alternate for the remainder of the work and each time a passage moves in to the opposite extreme it takes on slightly different material. Ms. Stefanovich and Mr. Aimard managed to capture the frenzy, intimacy, and mischievousness that this piece has – it would be fantastic for two dancers to stage given the many contrasts. One of my favorite sections was near the end when Mr. Aimard’s piano begins to create sympathetic vibrations with the other piano by holding down specific keys with the sustain pedal. These transfers of sound and timbre gave a bell like quality to some of Ms. Stefanovich’s chords. I found myself transfixed in the jazzy riffs of rhythm and spinning themes of the piano. It must take incredible coordination to pull off such an assured performance of this work that seemed to be perfectly both in and out of sync. It was a pleasure to see both pianists studying each other carefully for cues.

Above: Loriod and Messiaen many years later, still in love

The treat of the evening came after intermission in the form of Messiaen’s Visions de l’amen. This sprawling seven movement, 50-minute (small for Messiaen’s standards) work is a classic two piano piece with each of the movements dedicated to a vision of a reason to be thankful (or an amen as Messiaen puts it) – this is a cosmic, mystical piece of music in a way only Messiaen can deliver. Like the Birtwistle work, each piano has its own distinct voice – a fleeting, fast ethereal part that was written for Messiaen’s future wife Yvonne Loriod and an earthier chordal part written for himself. Ms. Loriod was perhaps the greatest contemporary music pianist of the 20^th century and the dedicatee of almost all of Messiaen’s piano music – they had a partnership of equals. Ms. Stefanovich took on Loriod’s voice and Mr. Aimard took Messiaen’s.

Before the opening Amen of creation, the performers took a good two minutes on stage letting the audience quiet down and the rumbling of the subway beneath to pass before beginning. Mr. Aimard managed to make the ppp in the score for his primordial opening sound like a whisper coming out of the slight noise from the crowd earlier before introducing the main melodic theme of the work. Meanwhile, the pppp high-pitched bells from Ms. Stefanovich rang in a soft, but lucid texture. The creeping in Ms. Stefanovich’s part is classic Messiaen – a song of the stars that is continually moving atop Mr. Aimard’s expanding chords. The interaction between the two is like light hitting stained glass and creating refractions – the light being Ms. Stefanovich’s bending colors. The music continued getting faster and louder as the “Creation” unfolded until the resonance from the piano held in the air with one last loud chord. In the next movement’s long introduction, Mr. Aimard nailed the jazzy harmonies and riffs barrowed from the Quartet from the End of Time’s sixth movement in the low register. Ms. Stefanovich’s managed to play through the rapid bird like sequences in the high reaches of the piano in a sing-song fashion in perfect time with beefy chords from Mr. Aimard. This exchange and dialogue of thematic material was so much fun to both watch and hear.

One of my favorite moments from the evening was after the first outburst of passion in the Amen of desire. The music got very quiet producing a moment of éblouissement. Mr. Aimard played a tender love theme while Ms. Stefanovich in the tinkled a taught, but honeyed variation of the original ‘star’ melody in the upper registers. The quiet sensitivity of Ms. Stefanovich’s made the music sing. This gave way to a loud run of manic, effervescent love at the climax of the movement with both performers seemingly investing all of their energy. It was clearly that this work is personal to both of them. Only the ending of the Amen of the consummation got even louder, more manic, and extreme in its sound.

Pierre-Laurent Aimard and Tamara Stefanovich; Photo Credit: Steve Sherman

Through all the dense textures, both performers managed to emphasize Messiaen’s stunning language taking through the virtuosic runs of Ms. Stefanovich’s high register and the huge chords of Ms. Aimard’s lower register. In the fffff final, organ like chords spanning the register of the entire piano the audience gave a well-deserved rapturous applause before the notes even decayed. They ran the gamut of textures, timbres, and emotions – ending in exaltation. As one more conservative in taste neighbor near me put it “I never thought I’d like that sort of modern music, but hearing that piece in person was like a religious experience!” Indeed it is and it is difficult to get a sense of the proportions of such a piece from a recording.

— Scoresby

The Performers:

Pierre-Laurent Aimard, piano

Tamara Stefanovich, piano

The Repertoire:

Bartók: Seven Selections from Mikrokosmos

Ravel: Site auriculaires

Birtwistle: Keyboard Engine, A Construction for Two Pianos

Messiaen: Visions de l’amen

October 25, 2018
Hilary Hahn @ White Light Festival

~Author: Scoresby

Tuesday October 23 2018 – Lincoln Center’s White Light Festival every October/November is always an interdisciplinary highlight of the season that offers a variety of different events. This year’s ranges from the upcoming US Premiere of Kaija Saariaho’s new opera Only the Sound Remains to a music with dance performance of Feldman’s Triadic Memories featuring pianist Pedja Muzijevic and choreographer Cesc Gelabert. Part of this celebration of spiritual/communal art featured the genial violinist Hilary Hahn in all too rare NY concert. She performed two of the three of the Bach Sonatas and Partitas that she just released on recording. The last work was one of the other three she recorded as her debut album, and it seems will perform them this Spring in Europe. According to Ms. Hahn’s Instagram, this was her first solo concert in the US in her career.

Above: Violinist Hilary Hahn playing Bach; Photo by Kevin Yatarola Courtesy of Lincoln Center

Ms. Hahn was performing to a sold out, enthusiastic audience in the intimate Alice Tully Hall yesterday evening. It should be said that all six of these pieces are extremely difficult to play well and yet at the core of the violin repertoire. The first work on the program was Sonata No. 1 in G minor. Ms. Hahn coaxed a large, beautiful sound out of her violin in the opening Adagio. Her sound was reminiscent of a purer Arthur Grumiaux (different intepratively). In the Fugue, Ms. Hahn took a more aggressive sounding virtuosic as she traversed each of the many double and triple stops. Out of the many live performances I’ve seen of this work, this is the first time I’ve heard this movement sound almost as clean as a recording – a near impossible feat. In addition to her accuracy, it was striking to be able to hear the countermelodies in the bass that usually disappear in the dense textures rang with clarity. In Ms. Hahn’s rendering, the intricate contrapuntal structure was easy to hear. While she was retuning before the third movement, the audience gave a hearty applause. After the gorgeous Sciliano, Ms. Hahn gave a brisk, full-bodied account of the presto. Her use of a quick tempo and her interesting finger work let the entire bass line ring through the movement letting the entirety of the piece shine.

In the opening Allemende of the Partita No. 1 in B minor Ms. Hahn took her time and employed small cells of melodic phrases that were punctuated by the larger chords. It was a unique take on this movement, make it sound angular – almost in the vein of Stravinsky. She seemed to take a similar approach in Courante that when moving into the Double expanded into a carefully coordinated flash of notes that was always clear. Part of that clarity came from giving almost every note its own bowing, making each shine in its own way. The audience applauded here too before the final four movements. Another highlight was the careful pacing of the Sarabande. As in other areas, Ms. Hahn’s preternatural ability of voicing every line let the music sing.

Above: Violinist Hilary Hahn

After intermission was Partita No. 2 in D minor. Ms. Hahn continued with the same big sound and near orchestral quality of playing. While beautifully rendered and intellectual satisfying, I couldn’t help but feel that her performance felt lacking in intimacy. As encore to the Partita, Ms. Hahn opted to replay the massive Chaconne. While I felt it was quite a bit odd at first to play a 15 minute encore of music just performed earlier, this was her best playing of the night. Perhaps relieved to be over with her first US solo concert, she seemed relaxed and personal with this second reading. Phrases that had been burly had a softer edge to them, the lyrical parts of the work had more space, and Ms. Hahn seemed to use quieter dynamics than she had the rest of the evening. It was thrilling to hear such a change in performance style from the rest of the concert and the crowd seemed to be just as enthralled.

— Scoresby

October 24, 2018
At Amanda Selwyn’s Open Rehearsal

Above: Sarah Starkweather, Manon Halley, and Misaki Hayama of Amanda Selwyn Dance Theatre; photo by Hayim Heron

~ Author: Oberon

On Monday, October 15th, 2018, I caught up with Amanda Selwyn when her company presented an open rehearsal at the Ailey Studios.

Over the past few years, my interest in dance has slowly been fading. But there are a few choreographers who will always draw me back, and Amanda is one of them; I can honestly say I’ve never seen a Selwyn work I didn’t like…or love.

So when I received an invitation to an open rehearsal of Amanda’s new work-in-progress, CROSSROADS, I rearranged my schedule so as to attend. Inspired by the art of Magritte and Escher, Amanda is collaborating with scenic and costume designer Anna-Alisa Belous for this production. CROSSROADS will be performed June 20th thru 22nd, 2019, at New York Live Arts.

Amanda Selwyn’s danceworks are always a collaborative effort on the part of choreographer and her dancers. In the early phases of creation, the individual dancers come up with phrases or gestures. These movement motifs are taken up by the company, tried in unison. If the consensus is positive, the phrase becomes an experimental element which may be elaborated upon, broken down or re-shuffled, and finally assimilated into the dance. These motifs may appear in various guises – as solo, duet, or ensemble passages – as the work develops. Amanda is the mastermind who assembles, enhances, and molds the finished product.

So this evening, I was really happy to see Amanda again, she being one of my favorite danceworld personalities. Three women I’ve met before – Torrey McAnena, Manon Halley, and Sarah Starkweather – are pillars of the Selwyn ensemble. I was delighted to see that Misaki Hayama, who danced recently with Roberto Villanueva’s BalaSole Dance Company, has joined Amanda’s troupe. Alex Cottone has danced for Amanda before, but I had not previously met him. Two new male dancers have just recently joined the Company: tall and athletic Fabricio Seraphim, and a vibrant, energetic young man named Yoshio Pineda.

Here are some images by Hayim Heron from this studio presentation:

Alex Cottone

Torrey McAnena

Fabricio Seraphim and Torrey McAnena

Manon Halley

Sarah Starkweather, Alex Cottone

Misaki Hayama, Sarah Starkweather, Yoshio Pineda

Torrey McAnena

Sarah Starkweather

All photography by Hayim Heron

It was simply great to watch these dancers, and to feel re-connected to Amanda Selwyn’s work. Now I need to get in touch with her and visit some upcoming rehearsals.

~ Oberon

October 24, 2018
At Amanda Selwyn’s Open Rehearsal

Above: Sarah Starkweather, Manon Halley, and Misaki Hayama of Amanda Selwyn Dance Theatre; photo by Hayim Heron

~ Author: Oberon

On Monday, October 15th, 2018, I caught up with Amanda Selwyn when her company presented an open rehearsal at the Ailey Studios.

Over the past few years, my interest in dance has slowly been fading. But there are a few choreographers who will always draw me back, and Amanda is one of them; I can honestly say I’ve never seen a Selwyn work I didn’t like…or love.

So when I received an invitation to an open rehearsal of Amanda’s new work-in-progress, CROSSROADS, I rearranged my schedule so as to attend. Inspired by the art of Magritte and Escher, Amanda is collaborating with scenic and costume designer Anna-Alisa Belous for this production. CROSSROADS will be performed June 20th thru 22nd, 2019, at New York Live Arts.

Amanda Selwyn’s danceworks are always a collaborative effort on the part of choreographer and her dancers. In the early phases of creation, the individual dancers come up with phrases or gestures. These movement motifs are taken up by the company, tried in unison. If the consensus is positive, the phrase becomes an experimental element which may be elaborated upon, broken down or re-shuffled, and finally assimilated into the dance. These motifs may appear in various guises – as solo, duet, or ensemble passages – as the work develops. Amanda is the mastermind who assembles, enhances, and molds the finished product.

So this evening, I was really happy to see Amanda again, she being one of my favorite danceworld personalities. Three women I’ve met before – Torrey McAnena, Manon Halley, and Sarah Starkweather – are pillars of the Selwyn ensemble. I was delighted to see that Misaki Hayama, who danced recently with Roberto Villanueva’s BalaSole Dance Company, has joined Amanda’s troupe. Alex Cottone has danced for Amanda before, but I had not previously met him. Two new male dancers have just recently joined the Company: tall and athletic Fabricio Seraphim, and a vibrant, energetic young man named Yoshio Pineda.

Here are some images by Hayim Heron from this studio presentation:

Alex Cottone

Torrey McAnena

Fabricio Seraphim and Torrey McAnena

Manon Halley

Sarah Starkweather, Alex Cottone

Misaki Hayama, Sarah Starkweather, Yoshio Pineda

Torrey McAnena

Sarah Starkweather

All photography by Hayim Heron

It was simply great to watch these dancers, and to feel re-connected to Amanda Selwyn’s work. Now I need to get in touch with her and visit some upcoming rehearsals.

~ Oberon

October 23, 2018