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Graham @ The Joyce 2015 – Part II

Above: Blakeley White-McGuire and Tadej Brdnik; these two phenomenal dancers were making their ‘farewell’ appearances as members of the Graham company tonight.

Sunday February 22nd, 2015 – For me it was a bittersweet evening at the Martha Graham Dance Company‘s final performance of their 2015 Joyce season following the news earlier this week that tonight would mark the ‘farewell’ Graham performances of Blakeley White-McGuire and Tadej Brdnik, two of the great Graham interpreters of our time and two people I greatly love and admire both as dancers and personalities.

Tadej danced in the very first performance of a Graham work that I ever saw: Appalachian Spring at Jacob’s Pillow some 20 years ago. That afternoon his Bride was the inimitable Miki Orihara. Combining the physique of a champion athlete with an appealingly boyish face, Tadej’s boundless energy and commitment have made him a Graham icon; he also has a devilish sense of humor, and I’ve seen him at the end of a long rehearsal keeping his fellow-dancers merry with one-liners and dead-pan expressions. In these final performances as a Company member, he has again shown the power and presence that have made him an emblematic Graham dancer throughout his career.

Of Blakeley White-McGuire, one can say she has indomitable technical prowess and a rare gift for communicating emotion. But beyond that there’s an undefinable element in her dancing which only a handful of dancers in my experience have possessed: a spiritual connection with the music and the movement that makes her performances not just important, but essential. Blakeley is twice-blessed by Terpsichore, and it is we – the audience – who reap the benefits of her beauty and generosity of spirit.

Like Wendy Whelan, who recently retired from New York City Ballet (and who was in the audience tonight!), both Blakeley and Tadej have indicated that they aren’t retiring, but simply turning a page in the chronicle of their dancing careers.

Blakeley and Tadej walked into the Graham studios for the first time on the same day some two decades ago. Although in the original scheme of things they were not scheduled to dance Errand Into The Maze together this season, it seems they were destined by the gods to do so.

Their performance was thrilling, commencing with Blakeley’s opening solo (photo above by Brigid Pierce) in which she danced with a palpitating mixture of fear and resolve, delineating the character’s destiny in a vivid marriage of technique and temperament. Tadej, as the monstrous Minotaur, stalks her like a vicious predator, his incredible thigh musculature giving him grounded strength of purpose. Their pas de deux, so fraught with struggle and sexuality, shows Graham’s gift for devising miracles of leverage, counter-balance, and entwining in her partnering motifs. Blakeley and Tadej’s joint triumph was vastly cheered by the packed house, and their Graham colleagues joined them onstage for the celebration.

For all the excitement generated by Blakeley and Tadej, the evening was an enriching one overall, commencing with two Graham works in which two of my beloved Muses appeared: Deep Song opened the program in a vivid performance by Carrie Ellmore-Tallitsch, and Miki Orihara gave a luminous rendering of an excerpt from Primitive Mysteries, presiding over a corps of young women in blue.

Above: Carrie Ellmore-Tallitsch in Deep Song; photo by Brigid Pierce

Deep Song is a solo work by Martha Graham, set to Music by Henry Cowell. It was premiered in 1937 as one of the choreographer’s responses to the horrors of war (the Spanish civil war in this case). In a black and white gown, Carrie Ellmore-Tallitsch is first seen seated on a white bench. The choreography develops with seeming inevitability as she struggles with her inner torment, sinking to the ground. She later lifts the bench, seeming to use it as a shield or hiding place. Finally the bench takes on a coffin-like aspect as she lowers it over herself. Carrie, a dancer I have always held in highest esteem, danced as superbly as I expected. The audience seemed to agree: she won a prolonged ovation which made me want to smile and weep at the same time.

Miki Orihara (rehearsal image, above) appeared like a shimmering angel all in white to perform the ‘Hymn to the Blessed Virgin’ from Graham’s 1931 ballet Primitive Mysteries. This is the Graham work I am most curious about, and tonight’s tantalizing excerpt makes me curiouser and curiouser. Escorted by a group of attendants in deep blue gowns (members and apprentices of Graham II), Miki radiates feminine mystique with her poetic gestures, moving with an almost ghostly lightness of tread. To Louis Horst’s atmospheric melody for flute and piano, the women perform antique rituals in this finely-structured dancework. The ensemble’s signature poses and port de bras make a particularly strong effect as Miki walks forward between facing rows of acolytes who sink down or raise their arms to heaven as she passes by. Miki sustains a powerful pose in demi-plié as the women circle about her. All to soon, their cortège passes onward but the resonance of their dancing lingers. Miki, always so movingly inspired and inspiring, sets a lovely example for the young dancers surrounding her: not only of how to move, but how to be.

In the Graham Company’s on-going project of asking now-generation choreographers to create short danceworks inspired by Martha’s legendary solo Lamentation, Michelle Dorrance and Liz Gerring have now devised new pieces – Lamentation Variations – for the Graham dancers. Bulareyaung Pargalava’s Variation, a classic by now, was also on offer tonight.

Above: the Graham men in Michelle Dorrance’s Lamentation Variation; left to right are Abdiel Jacobsen, Ben Schultz, Lloyd Knight, Lloyd Mayor, Tadej Brdnik. Photo by Christopher Jones.

Ms. Dorrance, a tap-dancing paragon, did not ask the Graham dancers to tap. But the music she used relied on tap rhythmics with a jazzy over-lay. The men formed a kind of central knot, while a quintet of women were seen in walkabouts…which one or two of the men sometimes strayed into. Though abstract, an underlying aspect of sadness and solitude prevailed throughout this work.

Liz Gerring’s Lamentation Variation is a quartet – performed by Natasha M Diamond-Walker, Charlotte Landreau, Ying Xin, and the indefatigable Tadej Brdnik (photo, Brigid Pierce) – which is set to a score for electronics and piano. The movement is rather stylized, and choreographer and dancers make excellent use of the space.

Above: from Bulareyaung Pargalava’s Lamentation Vartiation; photo © 2015 Yi-Chun Wu.

Pargalava’s Variation opens to the sound of Martha Graham’s voice speaking about the solo that inspired all these variations. Soon a haunting melody from Mahler’s ‘Songs of the Wayfarer’ is heard. In flesh-coloured tights, the delicate XiaoChuan Xie and her three demi-god partners – Ben Schultz, Lloyd Knight, and Lloyd Mayor – move with a sense of flowing lyricism through intricate partnerings in which Chuan alternately sinks down and is lifted on high. The dancers and the dance certainly wove a hypnotic spell tonight.

Above: Tadej Brdnik and XiaoChuan Xie in Annie-B Parson’s The Snow Falls in the Winter; photo by Brigid Pierce.

I saw Annie-B Parson’s The Snow Falls in the Winter a few seasons ago when OtherShore performed it. It’s simply not my cup of tea. For me one of the great joys of watching dance is: the dancers are silent. Once they begin to speak, a whole element of mystery falls away. Ms. Parson’s work is more like a play with a bit of dancing thrown in. The Graham dancers of course flung themselves into the piece with their customary zest, and Carrie Ellmore-Tallitsch and Natasha Diamond-Walker in particular proved themselves adept actresses. But while many in the audience applauded lustily and commented enthusiastically on this very ‘different’ work, I found it pretty tedious.

Above: from Andonis Foniadakis’ Echo, Lloyd Mayor, PeiJu Chien-Pott, and Lloyd Knight; photo by Brigid Pierce

The evening then soared to its conclusion with Andonis Foniadakis’ myth-inspired masterwork, Echo. It’s more a mood piece than a literal re-telling of the ancient tale of Narcissus and Echo, and as such it flows gorgeously upon Julien Tauride’s atmospheric score. The Graham Company’s beautiful pair of Lloyds – Mayor and Knight – create the illusion of Narcissus and his refection in deeply-enmeshed duets, their movement enhanced by their long sheer skirts (costumes by Anastasios Sofroniou) as caught in shadowy swirls by Clifton Taylor’s lighting design. PeiJu Chein-Pott is simply gorgeous as Echo, her dancing radiant and her creation of the character’s unspoken love and frustration literally becoming poetry in motion. In a supporting ensemble (as if such dancers can ever be thought of as merely ‘supporting’!) Tadej Brdnik, Ben Schultz, Abdiel Jacobsen, Natasha Diamond-Walker, XiaoChuan Xie, Charlotte Landreau, and Lauren Newman all wove into the marvelous mythic tapestry that Mr. Foniadakis has created.

Above: from Andonis Foniadakis’ Echo, Lloyd Mayor and PeiJu Chien-Pott; photo by Brigid Pierce

So nice to see many dancer-friends among the crowd: Wendy Whelan, Mariya Dashkina Maddux, Jere Hunt, Justin Lynch, Jonathan Breton, and Alexandre Balmain; and of course my delightful companion of the evening, Roberto Villanueva. Special thanks to Janet Eilber, the dance world’s most gracious hostess, and to publicist Janet Stapleton for sending me the production photos with perfect timing.

Afterglow: Tadej Brdnik and Blakeley White-McGuire basking in the affectionate admiration of friends and fans after the performance. Photo courtesy of Karen Brounstein.

February 22, 2015
ASO: Max von Schillings’ MONA LISA

Friday February 20th, 2015 – An opportunity to hear a forgotten opera, Max von Schillings’ MONA LISA, came about thanks to conductor Leon Botstein and the American Symphony Orchestra. Bringing us operatic rarities is one of Maestro Botstein’s specialties, and tonight MONA LISA proved a wonderful discovery.

The opera was vastly popular in its day; in the fifteen years following its 1915 premiere, it was performed more than 1,200 times, including in St. Petersburg and at New York’s Metropolitan Opera. The composer’s embrace of Nazism has since cast him as an unsavory individual and, upon his death in 1933, he and his music were essentially forgotten.

von Schillings was considered a neo-Wagnerian, but in MONA LISA we experience a link with Italian verismo; both in its Renaissance setting and its musical style, I was most often put in mind of Zandonai’s FRANCESCA DA RIMINI. The influence of Strauss and Zemlinsky may also be felt. von Schillings successfully blends a variety of stylistic elements into music that evokes the Age of da Vinci from a Germanic viewpoint.

The story is a Mona Lisa fantasy and revolves around her jealous husband, Francesco del Giocondo, and her former lover, Giovanni de Salviati who arrives at the del Giocondo palazzo on an errand from the pope: to purchase a rare pearl. Mona Lisa and Giovanni had once been lovers, and the flame is re-kindled.

The pearl is kept in a small, air-tight chamber. After arranging the purchase, Giovanni covertly persuades Mona Lisa that they should run away together when he comes to collect the pearl. Her husband notices the mysterious smile on his wife’s face – a smile she has never shone on him in their years of marriage – and suspects Giovanni as a rival. To avoid being caught, Giovanni hides in the pearl-chamber, which Francesco then locks. Mona Lisa knows that Giovanni will suffocate, but she keeps her cool and the next morning she tells her husband says she will wear the pearl. When Francesco enters the chamber to fetch the jewel for her, she slams the door shut behind him and locks it.

The opera is set during carnival season which gives rise to some passages of courtly entertainment. And, subtly, the libretto refers to Madama Borgia as being Mona Lisa’s friend. Thus the notion of dispatching an unwanted husband would come naturally to Mona Lisa.

The score abounds with melody and the opera is impressively orchestrated, bringing in harp, celeste, mandolin and organ…even castanets are heard at one point. The ASO‘s concertmaster Erica Kiesewetter seized several opportunities to bring forth beautiful solo violin passages.

The opera was well-cast with singers intent on characterizing their music. In the title-role, soprano Petra Maria Schnitzer, despite a less-than-comfortable upper register, blended lyricism with passionate declamation. As Francesco, the charismatic Michael Anthony McGee, delighted in the vocal art of insinuation, his genial vocal veneer covering a soul of brooding jealousy and duplicity. In a performance of intense power and commitment, tenor Paul McNamara scored a great success as he met the Wagnerian demands of the role of Giovanni; his vocalism made a strong impact in the Hall.

A quintet of courtiers, led by tenor Robert Chafin as Arrigo Oldofredi, provided ongoing commentary in Act I, with bursts of song woven into the tapestry. John Easterlin, Justin Hopkins, Christopher Burchett, and Michael Scarcelle kept their scenes lively with characterful singing and good dramatic interaction. An appealing trio of young women gave a vocal counter-balance to the men’s ensemble: Lucy Fitz Gibbon and Katherine Maysek sang attractively, and Ilana Davidson had a lovely vocal vignette, portraying Venus in a carnival pageant. The Bard Festival Chorale had rather less to do than one might have wished, but they did it well indeed.

THE CAST

Foreigner/Francesco del Giocondo: Michael Anthony McGee, bass-baritone
Woman/Mona Fiordalisa: Petra Maria Schnitzer, soprano
Lay Brother/Giovanni de Salviati: Paul McNamara, tenor
Pietro Tumoni: Justin Hopkins, bass-baritone
Arrigo Oldofredi: Robert Chafin, tenor
Alessio Beneventi: John Easterlin, tenor
Sandro da Luzzano: Christopher Burchett, baritone
Masolino Pedruzzi: Michael Scarcelle, bass-baritone
Mona Ginevra: Ilana Davidson, soprano
Dianora: Lucy Fitz Gibbon, soprano
Piccarda: Katherine Maysek, mezzo-soprano

Bard Festival Chorale (James Bagwell, director)

Conductor: Leon Botstein

February 21, 2015
ASO: Max von Schillings’ MONA LISA

Friday February 20th, 2015 – An opportunity to hear a forgotten opera, Max von Schillings’ MONA LISA, came about thanks to conductor Leon Botstein and the American Symphony Orchestra. Bringing us operatic rarities is one of Maestro Botstein’s specialties, and tonight MONA LISA proved a wonderful discovery.

The opera was vastly popular in its day; in the fifteen years following its 1915 premiere, it was performed more than 1,200 times, including in St. Petersburg and at New York’s Metropolitan Opera. The composer’s embrace of Nazism has since cast him as an unsavory individual and, upon his death in 1933, he and his music were essentially forgotten.

von Schillings was considered a neo-Wagnerian, but in MONA LISA we experience a link with Italian verismo; both in its Renaissance setting and its musical style, I was most often put in mind of Zandonai’s FRANCESCA DA RIMINI. The influence of Strauss and Zemlinsky may also be felt. von Schillings successfully blends a variety of stylistic elements into music that evokes the Age of da Vinci from a Germanic viewpoint.

The story is a Mona Lisa fantasy and revolves around her jealous husband, Francesco del Giocondo, and her former lover, Giovanni de Salviati who arrives at the del Giocondo palazzo on an errand from the pope: to purchase a rare pearl. Mona Lisa and Giovanni had once been lovers, and the flame is re-kindled.

The pearl is kept in a small, air-tight chamber. After arranging the purchase, Giovanni covertly persuades Mona Lisa that they should run away together when he comes to collect the pearl. Her husband notices the mysterious smile on his wife’s face – a smile she has never shone on him in their years of marriage – and suspects Giovanni as a rival. To avoid being caught, Giovanni hides in the pearl-chamber, which Francesco then locks. Mona Lisa knows that Giovanni will suffocate, but she keeps her cool and the next morning she tells her husband says she will wear the pearl. When Francesco enters the chamber to fetch the jewel for her, she slams the door shut behind him and locks it.

The opera is set during carnival season which gives rise to some passages of courtly entertainment. And, subtly, the libretto refers to Madama Borgia as being Mona Lisa’s friend. Thus the notion of dispatching an unwanted husband would come naturally to Mona Lisa.

The score abounds with melody and the opera is impressively orchestrated, bringing in harp, celeste, mandolin and organ…even castanets are heard at one point. The ASO‘s concertmaster Erica Kiesewetter seized several opportunities to bring forth beautiful solo violin passages.

The opera was well-cast with singers intent on characterizing their music. In the title-role, soprano Petra Maria Schnitzer, despite a less-than-comfortable upper register, blended lyricism with passionate declamation. As Francesco, the charismatic Michael Anthony McGee, delighted in the vocal art of insinuation, his genial vocal veneer covering a soul of brooding jealousy and duplicity. In a performance of intense power and commitment, tenor Paul McNamara scored a great success as he met the Wagnerian demands of the role of Giovanni; his vocalism made a strong impact in the Hall.

A quintet of courtiers, led by tenor Robert Chafin as Arrigo Oldofredi, provided ongoing commentary in Act I, with bursts of song woven into the tapestry. John Easterlin, Justin Hopkins, Christopher Burchett, and Michael Scarcelle kept their scenes lively with characterful singing and good dramatic interaction. An appealing trio of young women gave a vocal counter-balance to the men’s ensemble: Lucy Fitz Gibbon and Katherine Maysek sang attractively, and Ilana Davidson had a lovely vocal vignette, portraying Venus in a carnival pageant. The Bard Festival Chorale had rather less to do than one might have wished, but they did it well indeed.

THE CAST

Foreigner/Francesco del Giocondo: Michael Anthony McGee, bass-baritone
Woman/Mona Fiordalisa: Petra Maria Schnitzer, soprano
Lay Brother/Giovanni de Salviati: Paul McNamara, tenor
Pietro Tumoni: Justin Hopkins, bass-baritone
Arrigo Oldofredi: Robert Chafin, tenor
Alessio Beneventi: John Easterlin, tenor
Sandro da Luzzano: Christopher Burchett, baritone
Masolino Pedruzzi: Michael Scarcelle, bass-baritone
Mona Ginevra: Ilana Davidson, soprano
Dianora: Lucy Fitz Gibbon, soprano
Piccarda: Katherine Maysek, mezzo-soprano

Bard Festival Chorale (James Bagwell, director)

Conductor: Leon Botstein

February 20, 2015
IOLANTA/BLUEBEARD’S CASTLE @ The Met

Above: Boris Kudlicka’s set design for The Met’s production of Bartok’s BLUEBEARD’S CASTLE

Wednesday February 18th, 2015 – This pairing of ‘short’ operas by Tchaikovsky and Bartok at The Met didn’t really work. IOLANTA is an awkward work: too short to stand alone but too long to be successfully coupled with another opera. BLUEBEARD, so intense musically and rather static dramatically, is best paired with something like Schoenberg’s ERWARTUNG or Stravinsky’s OEDIPUS REX. Aside from the musical mismatch, the evening was further spoilt by an endless intermission.

Tchaikovsky’s IOLANTA is full of nice melodies and is perfectly palatable but at no point do we feel connected to the story or the characters as we do with ONEGIN or PIQUE-DAME. The production is gloomy, with a central ‘box’ (Iolanta’s bedroom) which periodically (and rather annoyingly) rotates. The stage direction was random and incoherent, the minor characters popping in and out, and then a big choral finale populated by men in waiters’ aprons. Nothing made much sense, really.

Musically, IOLANTA was given a not-very-inspired reading by Pavel Smelkov. It took Anna Netrebko a while to warm up; her singing became more persuasive as the evening wore on. She was attractive to watch and did what she could dramatically with a limited character and a dreary production. Mzia Nioradze was a sturdily-sung Marta. Among the male roles, Matt Boehler stood out vocally as Bertrand. Neither Vladimir Chmelo (Ibn-Hakia) nor Alexei Tanovitski (King Rene) seemed to be Met-caliber singers, and Maxim Aniskin’s Duke Robert was pleasant enough vocally though of smallish scale in the big House.

IOLANTA was in fact only saved by a superb performance as Vaudemont by Piotr Beczala. From the moment of his first entrance, the tenor’s generous and appealing sound and his commanding stage presence lifted the clouds of tedious mediocrity that had settled over the scene. As his most Gedda-like vocally, Beczala seemed to enflame Ms. Netrebko and their big duet had a fine sense of triumph.

The House, which was quite full for the Tchaikovsky, thinned out a bit at intermission. Those who stayed for the Bartok were treated to an impressive musical performance thwarted to an extent by busy, awkward staging. Mr. Smelkov seemed more in his element here than in the Tchaikovsky; the orchestra played Bartok’s gorgeous score for all it’s worth, and that’s saying a lot.

After the eerie, ominous spoken prologue, we enter Bluebeard’s dark domain. Where we should see seven doors, we instead see an automatic garage door closing. Then begins the long conversation between Bluebeard and Judith which will end with her bound in permanent captivity with his other wives.

The staging did the two singers – Michaela Martens and Mikhail Petrenko – no favors; periodically they appeared – for no apparent reason – in an isolated ‘cupboard’ high up at extreme stage left while the central space was filled with the filmed image of a gaping elevator shaft (see photo at the top of this article). The opening of each each ‘door’ was staged as a series of odd vignettes. Nothing made much sense. The final scene was ugly and failed to project the sense of mystery that should hover over Judith’s fate.

Both Ms. Martens and Mr. Petrenko were on fine vocal form, and both brought unusual warmth and unexpected lyricism to much of their music. They sang powerfully, the mezzo showing a large and expressive middle register and resonant lower notes, with the basso having both power and tonal beauty at his command.

At several points along the way, their singing seemed somewhat compromised by the staging; and never more so than in Judith’s famous high-C. At this moment, the director placed the singer far upstage – almost on Amsterdam Avenue – and so although Ms. Martens nailed the note, she was too far back to crest the orchestra. I suspect it was staged this way as a covering device for the vocal unreliability of the production’s earlier Judith, Nadja Michael.

But overall, Ms. Martens and Mr. Petrenko each made a distinctive vocal showing; and it was they, the Met orchestra, and Piotr Beczala’s Vaudemont earlier in the performance that gave the evening its lustre and saved it from sinking into the murky depths. Attempts to show some kind of link between the two operas by means of certain stage effects proved unconvincing. The Bartok, especially, deserves so much better.

Metropolitan Opera House February 18, 2015
IOLANTA P I Tchaikovsky Iolanta....................Anna Netrebko Vaudémont..................Piotr Beczala Robert.....................Maxim Aniskin King René..................Alexei Tanovitski Bertrand...................Matt Boehler Alméric....................Keith Jameson Ibn-Hakia..................Vladimir Chmelo Marta......................Mzia Nioradze Brigitte...................Katherine Whyte Laura......................Cassandra Zoé Velasco
BLUEBEARD'S CASTLE Béla Bartók

Judith.....................Michaela Martens Bluebeard..................Mikhail Petrenko

Conductor..................Pavel Smelkov

February 18, 2015
YCA Young Composers Concert @ Merkin Hall

Tuesday February 17th, 2015 – Young Concert Artists presenting an evening of chamber music by young composers at Merkin Hall. I invited my choreographer-friend Claudia Schreier to join me, as she is always in quest of music to set dances to.

It was a cordial and wonderfully satisfying evening of music, the four composers showing an expansive range of styles and influences, and a fine mastery of writing for the chosen instruments. The level of playing was high and mighty, and how lovely to re-encounter Ursula Oppens, who throughout her career has been a champion of new music.

Things got off to a shining start with BENJAMIN C.S. BOYLE‘s Sonata-Cantilena (NY premiere) performed by pianist Charles Abramovic and flautist Mimi Stillman (above). This four-movement work opens with a Debussyian shimmer; it wends its way thru melodious passages – sometimes doleful and sometimes evoking the warblings of exotic birds – with some sprightly, witty cascades of impetuous coloratura added to the mix. Ms. Stillman, in a fetching pale-violet frock, played beautifully and Mr. Abramovic was a congenially artful partner.

Ms. Oppens (above) was then joined by violinist Paul Huang and clarinetist Narek Arutyunian for DAVID HERTZBERG‘s Orgie Céleste (Premiere), a fantastical evocation of heavenly delights. Complex and ear-tingling in its textures, much of the music has an ethereal quality as the piano and violin linger in their high registers; meanwhile the clarinet murmurs a two-note motif endlessly, like a subtly pulsing heartbeat. Mr. Huang showed extraordinary technical control as he met all the composer’s demands with alacrity, including some ironic glissandi. The intermingling of the three voices kept everything in a constant state of freshness, Ms. Oppens was wonderfully vivid in her silvery filigree and Mr. Arutyunian seizing melodic opportunities his mellow, expressive tone. The audience responded enthusiastically to both the music and the musicians.

The only one of tonight’s composers previously familiar to me was KENJI BUNCH, who I had met several years ago while I was working at Tower Records. Since then I have heard quite a bit of his music, but I had not had the pleasure of hearing him play live. He’s a superb violist, with a marvelous mastery of the instrument, making it sing for him is two very contrasted works.

Above: Kenji Bunch and pianist Monica Ohuchi

In I Dream in Evergreen, Kenji revealed the viola’s depth of lyricism in a poignant reflection on the sundering aspects of death, when mortal friendships end and are transformed into memory. Ms. Ohuchi’s gently shimmering opening theme is soon joined by the viola intoning its poetic recollection of past affection and regret. Together the two musicians provided a reflective interlude, impeccably played.

Kenji’s Étude No. 4 (from a set of twelve études he composed for his wife, Ms. Ohuchi, under the title Monica’s Notebook) is a brief and brilliant piece. Lasting all of 90 seconds, it sends the pianist’s hands rippling up and down the keyboard in a delightful display of dexterity. Ms. Ohuchi nailed it, and she was rightly given sustained applause which wouldn’t quit til she returned for a solo bow (personally, I was hoping for an encore of the piece!)

In Étouffée for solo viola, Kenji’s panoramic exploration of the viola’s possibilities was truly impressive and enjoyable; his playing is mesmerizing – there’s no other word for it. Inspired by a favorite dish from the Cajun culture, the work opens with a hazy, out-of-focus quality as if the viola was drunk on Southern Comfort. This evolves into a big country dance-tune, captivating in its combination of rhythmic drive and sexy rubato. Bravo, Kenji! His entire set was really impressive.

Having musicians of the caliber of the Opus One quartet (above) play the New York premiere of your work must have given composer CHRIS ROGERSON a thrill. His Summer Night Music for Piano Quartet is full of musical marvels and how superbly it was played tonight by the Opus One artists: Ida Kavafian, violinist; Steven Tenenbom, violist; Peter Wiley, cellist; and Anne-Marie McDermott, pianist.

In four movements, Summer Night Music opens with a sense of quietude at Twilight. First the cello, then viola, and then the violin introduce themselves in gentle motifs. Ms. McDermott reaches inside the body of the Steinway to pluck the piano’s strings as the cello murmurs plaintively and the violin plays high and pensive. In Fireflies, the piano spins forth with fluttering restlessness and sparkling little interjections. There’s a dense passage from all four players until, until – with a high fade-away from violin and piano – the memory of a Summer night slips away.

The third movement, Evening Prayers, sounds like a gentle lullabye; the violin lingers on high and the viola and cello blend thru the music in simpatico phrases. The concluding Sleep Music commences with a gently vibrant quality, soft and high; a mellowness of cello and viola evoke deepening night. There is a broad melody for unison strings – and a passionate piano theme – before the music finally vanishes into thin air on Ms. Kavafian’s violin strings.

In researching some of the participating artists, I came upon the above quote from the young violinist Paul Huang. He has expressed something here that I have always felt.

February 17, 2015
NY Philharmonic Ensembles: Concert @ Merkin Hall

Above: the composer Krzysztof Penderecki

Sunday February 15th, 2015 matinee – This series of chamber music concerts by musicians from The New York Philharmonic looked so appealing when I saw the initial announcement. Due to my crowded calendar, this was my first opportunity to attend one of the concerts this season, and I’m most grateful to Lanore Carr of the Philharmonic for arranging it for me. Aside from the very interesting repertoire, the concert gave us an opportunity to ‘meet’ many of the Philharmonic’s artists in a more intimate setting.

Merkin Hall is a fine venue for chamber music – with a very clear acoustic – and the audience, who braved frigid temperatures to attend, were held in a sustained state of attentive delight by both the music and the playing.

The outstanding contemporary Polish composer Krzysztof Penderecki’s String Trio was premiered in 1990 at Krakow. Today, cellist Nathan Vickery introduced the piece, citing the fact that Penderecki set out early in his career to write music that would antagonize his listeners, but that, over time, his approach mellowed.

The String Trio is a vivid and very pleasing miniature – about 12 minutes long – and was played to perfection by Mr. Vickery with Quan Ge (violin) and Dawn Hannay (viola). After a slashing, jagged introductory phrase, the viola, then the cello, and then the violin make opening statements. The work takes on a conversational feel, as the instruments seem to murmur or chatter to one another with buzzing intimacy. The second movement is dance-like. All three players excelled in both tonal appeal and rhythmic surety. It was a bracing, lively performance, with intriguing touches of wit subtly expressed..

Jean Sibelius’s String Quartet in D minor, Voces intimae, Op. 56 was the only familiar work on the programme. This is music rich in expressions of melancholy and tenderness – even the more animated passages have a rather forlorn undercurrent – and in introducing it, violist Irene Breslaw quoted Sibelius as saying it was “…music that brings a smile to your lips at the time of death.”

The musicians – Anna Rabinova and Hyunju Lee (violins), Ms. Breslaw, and cellist Qiang Tu (superb depth of tone!) – vied with one another in poignancy of expression and beauty of line. Combined, their voices mingled in heartfelt harmonies, most especially in the quartet’s autumnal Adagio where their evocations of longing and regret spoke so deeply to me. In the scurrying finale, the players’ technical deftness was truly impressive.

The chance to hear music by Vittorio Giannini was an important factor in wanting to attend this concert. This now-nearly-forgotten composer was so prolific, writing operas, symphonies, sacred works, chamber music, and songs. His sister, Dusolina Giannini, was an operatic soprano who sang two dozen performances at The Met from 1938-1941. Vittorio Giannini was well-regarded in his lifetime – he taught at Juilliard, The Manhattan School of Music, and the Curtis Institute, and he founded the North Carolina School of the Arts – and his music won favor with audiences. Yet he and his music seem to have lapsed into obscurity following his premature death in 1966 at age 63.

Today we heard Vittorio Giannini’s Piano Quintet, and a gorgeous work it is! Melodically rich in the spirit of Puccini and Rachmaninoff, this quintet presents a rhapsodic blend of piano and strings in which theme follows theme in a steady flow of passionate lyricism. Giannini is so adept in his art that the music is able to speak directly to the heart without ever becoming cloying. Violinist Yulia Ziskel, commenting on the composer and his forgotten works, spoke of the ‘silver screen’ quality of certain passages of the quintet, and how right she was. But the music does more than just bathe the senses in a sea of opulent melodies, for the composer also shows a keen talent for rhythmic nuance.

Guest artist Keun A Lee – who I had heard previously playing for an Alek Shrader recital – was simply a luminous central force for the quintet. Her playing is elegant and generous, and she is also a delight to watch. Ms. Ziskel was joined by Shanshan Yao (violin), Rémi Pelletier (viola) and Mr. Vickery (cello). They played with warm resonance, most especially in the second movement where the cello takes the melodic lead (with the piano) which is then picked up by the viola. This adagio featured some of the evening’s most passionate playing. The third movement gets dance-y, developing a swaying effect at one point before swirling onwards to the fast and furious finale.

Chamber music must be so rewarding to play; and imagine how delightful it must have been for these musicians to discover the Giannini anew. The caliber of playing was stellar, and this was a really engaging programme.

February 15, 2015
Gallery: Graham @ The Joyce 2015

Above: Blakeley White-McGuire in Martha Graham’s CHRONICLE; photo by Brigid Pierce

Here are some images from the Martha Graham Dance Company‘s 2015 season at The Joyce. Read about the first of three programmes the Company are presenting here.

Click on each production photo to enlarge:

Above: the women’s ensemble in CHRONICLE, photo by Brigid Pierce

Above: Abdiel Jacobsen as Adam and Carrie Ellmore-Tallitsch as Lilith in Graham’s EMBATTLED GARDEN; photo by Brigid Pierce

Above: Tadej Brdnik (at the right) in Nacho Duato’s RUST; photo by Brigid Pierce

There are new additions to the Graham company’s on-going LAMENTATION VARIATIONS project this season:

Above: from Sonya Tayeh’s LAMENTATION VARIATION, an ensemble work; photo by Christopher Jones.

Above: from Kyle Abraham’s LAMENTATION VARIATION, as danced by XiaoChuan Xie and Ying Xin, photographed by Brigid Pierce

Kyle’s Variation is being performed by alternating casts of two women (Ying Xin and XiaoChuanXie, above, in two more Brigid Pierce images)…

…and two men: Lloyd Knight and Lloyd Mayor, photographed by Christopher Jones. [Note: the Lloyds are wearing shirts in this photo; in performance they danced bare-chested.]

Peter Arnell’s marvelous photo-montage of the Graham dancers, which is being shown at every performance during the current Joyce season, may now be viewed here, at VOGUE. A couple of stills, below, will give you an idea of what this ‘moving picture’ is like:

Catch these fabulous dancers thru February 22nd at The Joyce. Details here.

February 15, 2015
New Chamber Ballet: Gallery

Images from New Chamber Ballet‘s February 2015 performances at City Center Studios have come my way. Read about the evening here. Above, from Miro Magloire’s ballet ENTANGLED; the dancers are Sarah Atkins and Traci Finch. The above photo and the following images from Miro’s ballet RAW are provided by courtesy of New Chamber Ballet:

From RAW: the dancers are Traci Finch and Amber Neff

RAW: Traci Finch, Amber Neff

RAW: Amber Neff, Traci Finch

RAW: Amber Neff, Traci Finch

From Miro Magloire’s RAW: Amber Neff, Traci Finch

The costume designs for both RAW and ENTANGLED are by Sarah Thea. She provided the following photos from ENTANGLED, used with permission:

Traci Finch, Sarah Atkins

Traci Finch, Sarah Atkins

Above: pianist Melody Fader; photo by Cherie B

Live music is a key element at all New Chamber Ballet performances. Pianist Melody Fader has been Miro’s collaborator for several seasons and, along with violinist Doori Na, she makes the music an integral factor in the audience’s enjoyment of NCB evenings. Melody is currently in the midst of a Kickstarter campaign to develop funding for her chamber music project, something that’s dear to her heart. You can find out all about it – and help make it happen – here.

New Chamber Ballet‘s next performances will be April 17th and 18th, 2015. Information about repertory and tickets will be forthcoming.

February 14, 2015
First Breath: Photography by Travis Magee

On January 31st, 2015, photographer Travis Magee opens a solo show entitled First Breath, at the Film Society of Lincoln Center’s Frieda and Roy Furman Gallery. The gallery is adjacent to the Walter Reade Theater, on the upper tier of the north side of the Lincoln Center campus.

“Travis Magee’s photographs are like compelling choreography. There seems always to be an implied narrative, but it is up to the viewer to decipher and to decide for themselves what the hell is going on!” says acclaimed dancer and choreographer Sean Curran.

I first met Travis thru his work as a dancer with Cherylyn Lavagnino Dance. He recently produced a vivid portfolio of images from a rehearsal of Parsons Dance for Oberon’s Grove, and I’m looking forward to working with him again in the near future.

Check out Travis’s striking photographs at the Frieda and Roy Furman Gallery where the show – in conjunction with the Dance on Camera Festival – runs thru February 11th, 2015.

January 30, 2015
Ax/Robertson @ The New York Philharmonic

Above: Emanuel Ax

Thursday January 29th, 2015 – The esteemed pianist Emanuel Ax, enormously popular with New York Philharmonic audiences, was warmly cheered tonight after his performance of the Chopin piano concerto #2. David Robertson was on the podium for a programme that proved highly enjoyable and that allowed several of the individual players of the orchestra to shine.

Above: David Robertson

As a brief and savorable prelude, the Vocalise of Sergei Rachmaninoff was rendered in full romantic bloom by Mr. Robertson and the orchestra. Originally a wordless composition for soprano, the Vocalise was written in 1915; the composer went on to orchestrate the work which is perhaps his best-known melody, whether performed in the arrangement for soprano and orchestra or for orchestra alone. So many of Rachmaninoff’s best-loved works are in a minor key, giving the music a mood of melancholy and gentle regret. The orchestra played it with distinction; the melodic familiarity of the piece has the poignant effect of encountering an old friend one has not seen for many years.

Mr. Ax then appeared for the Piano Concerto No. 2 of Frédéric Chopin. In the summer of 1829, the 19-year-old Chopin, recovering from the breaking of an unhappy romantic attachment, sketched out the F-minor concerto and when he returned to Warsaw for the winter season, he performed this new concerto at the National Theatre the following March. The concerto gained Chopin the public exposure and audience acclaim that his numerous private salon performances could not have achieved.

As the years passed, musicologists began to denigrate the Chopin concertos as being inferior to much of his writing for solo piano. Tonight’s superb performance made an emphatic stand in the concerto’s favor: it’s simply a beautiful piece of music.

A contemporary account from the concerto’s premiere in 1830 records: “How beautifully (Chopin) plays. What fluency! What evenness!” And the same could be said of Mr. Ax’s performance tonight. In a refined partnership with Maestro Robertson, the pianist let the music flow with grace and charm, allowing us to savour the thematic generosity of Chopin in an illuminating performance. The unfortunate ringing of a phone just as the concerto’s first movement ended prompted a witty exchange between pianist and conductor. But order was immediately restored as Mr. Ax commenced the Larghetto, a movement full of lyricism in which the pianist’s glowing tone captivated the audience. With flourishing agility, the pianist then took wing in the final Allegro vivace. Near the end, trumpet calls herald the concerto’s final rippling cadences; it all ends with Mr. Ax striking a single low note as the orchestra takes the final chord. The audience’s warm expressions of admiration drew Mr. Ax to offer us a Chopin encore, summoning up visions of the Jerome Robbins ballet DANCES AT A GATHERING.

The Firebird (Suite/1919) – Igor Stravinsky arranged three suites from the full score of The Firebird, in 1911, 1919 and 1945. It is the second of these which is most frequently played today, containing as it does approximately half the music of the complete score. This suite follows the narrative of the original ballet scenario, so familiar to admirers of the Balanchine/Chagall incarnation often seen across the Plaza at New York City Ballet. The atmospheric score – Stravinsky at his most colorful and melodious – casts a spell of enchantment. It includes themes from two Russian folk songs: one a lyrical melody danced by the captive princesses, and the second the regal anthem which closes the ballet.

Maestro Robertson and the Philharmonic players reveled in this extraordinary music, with oboist Sherry Skylar particularly impressive in her plaintive theme. The conductor drew forth some ravishing, shimmering piani as well as the lulling tenderness of the Berceuse; and the nightmarish Infernal Dance of Kastcheï’s ghoulish slaves was given the full, brilliant treatment.

The Miraculous Mandarin (Suite) is drawn from Bela Bartók’s pantomime-ballet of the same title. The original theatrical setting of the piece (written 1918-1919) was considered too vulgar in its portrayal of lurid sex, violence, and the macabre. After its 1929 premiere at Cologne, it was banned after a single performance. But Bartók, perhaps foreseeing that the ballet would not survive as a stage work, had already arranged the Suite, which we heard tonight in a thoroughly engrossing performance.

Opening with a big, noisy clatter of sound, the score employs a wide range of instrumentation to ear-tingling effect: piano, flute, harp, xylophone, and celeste all play a part in this sonically intriguing piece. Ms. Skylar’s oboe artistry and Anthony McGill’s remarkable clarinet playing were especially clear and colourful. And a broad, dancing passage with drums near the end served as a reminder of the Suite’s balletic beginnings.

I at first wondered how the Stravinsky and Bartok would play back-to-back, but the cumulative effect was indeed rewarding: both works have a similarity of texture at certain points, and there’s even some over-lapping of effects – trombone glissandi and frequent interjections of solo winds – which made second half of tonight’s concert every bit as satisfying as the first half.

January 29, 2015