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Dances We Dance @ Graham Studio Theatre

Above: dancer Kathleen Caragine in Water Study, photo by Steven Pisano

~ Author: Oberon

Sunday November 24th, 2024 matinee – Francesca Todesco’s company Dances We Dance presenting ACQUA, a program of danceworks inspired by water. This evening’s afternoon’s was a performance that celebrated sisterhood and helped ease the after-effects of a painful recent election, in which women’s causes that seemed set to flourish under a Harris administration now seem destined for setbacks in the years ahead.

Above: the ensemble in Water Study, photo by Steven Pisano

The program presented a set of dances inspired by or alluding to themes relating to water, which – since the earliest beginnings of dance – have evoked or reveled in this essential element. From the rain dances of the ancient tribes to Chris Wheeldon’s After The Rain… and Caterina Rago’s Alta Marea, water has been a constant source of inspiration in the dance community.

As part of this exploration, the audience today experienced the re-staging of Doris Humphrey’s renowned 1928 choreography Water Study, performed by a cast of 11 dancers under the direction of master teacher Gail Corbin. This was preceded by a showing of Isadora Duncan’s 1905 piece Water Study, which has an improvisational feeling. As staged by Francesca Todesco, this opens to the sound of dripping water.

As music of Schubert sounds, the lights slowly come up to reveal the dancers prone on the floor. Wearing blue/green costumes, they slowly rise and – as projections of the sea appear on screen – they come and go, executing fleeting steps and creating waves of movement suggesting the ebb and flow of the sea. A Schubert waltz sounds, and the dancers assume an ecstatic pose.

Above: the dancers in Doris Humphrey’s Water Study; photo by Steven Pisano

Silence falls as the Humphrey piece commences: the kneeling dancers awaken, the sound of their breathing hangs gently on the air. One by one they rise. Forming opposing lines, they race towards each other like tempest-tossed waves converging. They run en masse from corner to corner, as if crashing against sea walls. Standing, they sway from side to side to the sounds of their own breath. Then they fold into kneeling poses and the ballet ends as it began. Kudos to Ms. Corbin for bringing the fascinating work to currency.

Above: from Catherine Gallant’s Wave; the dancers are Colleen Edwards, Rosey Gentle, and Kathleen Caragine; photo by Steven Pisano

The next three works were finely contrasted but they had one thing in common: each was so visually and musically enjoyable that they felt too short!

Wave, a 2001 work choreographed by Catherine Gallant, is an homage to Isadora with a contemporary touch. Three dancers – Kathleen Caragine, Colleen Edwards, and Rosy Gentle – are posed in a pool of light at the start. To the sounds of a Chopin mazurka, these beauties dance nobly and expressively in tunic-like costumes. They collapse and rise, evoking visions of Wagner’s Rhinemaidens, their faces are at once youthful and ancient: a sisterhood of goddesses. As the light fades, they return to their opening pose.

Above: choreographer Catherine Gallant in an iconic photo

I was ever so happy to see Catherine this evening; I felt reassured after speaking with her: now more than ever we must be there for one another. I told Catherine of the beautiful “Isadora” photo I have of her on my bookcase shelf (above); I can look up from my desk all thru the day and see her in that ecstatic pose.

Above: from Crosscurrents; the dancers are Jada Alfred, Marley Poku-Kankam, Autumn Rodrigue, and Alana Averett; photo by Steven Pisano

Crosscurrents, choreographed by Hannah Howell, brought forth four lovely young ladies, each with a distinctive personality. To a wonderfully weird and quirky score by Angel Bat David, the dancers create movement patterns and dance in diagonal formations. The sound of the clarinet takes over – I love it! – and standing in a line up, each dancer has a brief solo. The music is incredibly evocative, it sings of solidarity. The stage becomes sun-drenched as the dancers fall and then resume their initial pose.

Above: Lana Hankinson in Tidal Pool; photo by Steven Pisano

Tidal Pool, set to deeply lyrical music by Yumira and choreographed by Rae Ballard, was danced by a quintet that featured Mlles. Caragine, Edwards, and Gentle joined by guest dancers Lana Hankinson and Lauren Naslund. The gentle flow of the dance created a sense of quiet serenity whilst the music evokes a luxuriant feeling of peace. Nearing the end, Ms. Naslund walks slowly forward center-stage while one by one the other dancer cross her path and depart, leaving her alone onstage with an expression of quiet wonderment. I’ve always been an admirer of Ms. Naslund, more so today than ever. Her calm beauty has the enviable gift of timeless grace.

Following the interval, Francesca Todesco’s brand new Cherchez La Femme (above photo by Steven Pisano) was danced by Mlles. Edwards, Gentle, and Caragine.These three women have developed into artists of high quality, thoroughly comfortable and assured onstage. Each has something personal to say, making their dancing really fascinating to watch.

Colleen Edwards (above, photo by Steven Pisano), so impressive in the Gallant piece earlier in the program, was riveting here. As the Todesco trio commenced against a golden backdrop, the white-clad Ms. Edwards stood in the light, casting her shadow. She is joined by the other two, and shadow-play becomes a part of their movement.

Ms. Edwards has the first solo: each character has a name, and she is Simonetta. To softly cascading piano motifs, her dancing is truly mesmerizing. She rushes about the space and finally withdraws as Ms. Gentle, clad in red as Camille, enters frantically, as if being pursued…she immediately collapses. A questing search and a plea reveal her desperation. Rising, she appears hesitant, as if seeking something…or someone. To music of Chopin, the search becomes a plea. Ms. Gentle’s dancing seemed to reveal her heart and soul to us.

Now we meet Artemisia: fair of face, Ms. Caragine’s black hair sets off her expressive eyes; she moves beautifully, with a ballerina’s poise, as the steps and gestures flow on the music. The trio re-unite, Ms. Gentle now back in her white frock, as the dance moves to its finish.

Here are more images from Cherchez la femme, photos by Steven Pisano:

Rosy Gentle

Kathleen Caragine

Mlles. Edwards, Gentle, and Caragine in Cherchez La Femme

Above: Francesca Todesco in Memories; photo by Steven Pisano

Ms. Todesco then took the stage alone to premiere a new solo choreographed by Rae Ballard to the always welcome music of Astor Piazzolla. Entitled Memories, this solo finds the dancer clad in severe black with black pumps; she seems like a widow, alone in her grief, recalling happier times The music has a lamenting feeling and becomes quite lush; a hint of a tango is woven in. Francesca’s innate musicality, with her expressive hands and face, creates a mood of longing. At times, she seemed to be dancing just for me.

Above, the sirens of Haunted Echoes: Colleen Edwards, Margherita Tisato, Kathleen Caragine, and Rosy Gentle; photo by Steven Pisano

Closing the program was a newly commissioned work choreographed by the beloved former Paul Taylor star Annmaria Mazzini. This is Haunted Echoes, set to musical collage which propels a dance of the sirens – bewitching creatures all in sea-green. Drifting about the space, they pause to sing their alluring song. A big beat springs up and the dancing turns wild. And then the music becomes a bluesy lullaby, and the dancers drift off, a sisterhood lost at sea.

On an evening that meant a lot to me, it was especially nice to greet the inimitable Jim May, who I’d only met once before, many, many moons ago at a Sokolow rehearsal. Tonight, it felt like a reunion of long-lost brothers.

Performance photos by Steven Pisano.

~ Oberon

November 24, 2024
LA GIOCONDA ~ Madrid 1970

Above: soprano Ángeles Gulín

Audio-only…Ponchielli’s LA GIOCONDA from Madrid 1970.

So fun to find this unusual assembly of singers all in one place: recalling Gulin’s NY debut in HUGUEOTS at Carnegie Hall: biggest soprano sound I ever heard…I was at Glossop’s Met debut…Casoni was my first-ever Cherubino…a young Domingo…Ruggero Raimondi, always a favorite…and Pecile’s beautifully-sung ‘Voce di donna‘…some radio static, and singers and orchestra sometimes part company…but I’ve had a blast listening to it.

I have to confess: GIOCONDA has always been my favorite Italian opera. It all boils down to this: love or death! Isn’t that the essence of opera?

Listen here.

CAST:

La Gioconda – Angeles Gulín; Enzo – Plácido Domingo (debut in Madrid); Barnaba – Peter Glossop; Laura – Biancamaria Casoni; Alvise – Ruggero Raimondi; La Cieca – Mirna Pecile.

Conductor – Anton Guadagno

November 24, 2024
LA GIOCONDA ~ Madrid 1970

Above: soprano Ángeles Gulín

Audio-only…Ponchielli’s LA GIOCONDA from Madrid 1970.

So fun to find this unusual assembly of singers all in one place: recalling Gulin’s NY debut in HUGUEOTS at Carnegie Hall: biggest soprano sound I ever heard…I was at Glossop’s Met debut…Casoni was my first-ever Cherubino…a young Domingo…Ruggero Raimondi, always a favorite…and Pecile’s beautifully-sung ‘Voce di donna‘…some radio static, and singers and orchestra sometimes part company…but I’ve had a blast listening to it.

I have to confess: GIOCONDA has always been my favorite Italian opera. It all boils down to this: love or death! Isn’t that the essence of opera?

Listen here.

CAST:

La Gioconda – Angeles Gulín; Enzo – Plácido Domingo (debut in Madrid); Barnaba – Peter Glossop; Laura – Biancamaria Casoni; Alvise – Ruggero Raimondi; La Cieca – Mirna Pecile.

Conductor – Anton Guadagno

November 23, 2024
Batiashvili/Mäkelä/Royal Concertgebouw

Above: Lisa Batiashvili, photo by Sammy Hart/DG

~ Author: Oberon

Friday November 22nd, 2024 – Tonight at Carnegie Hall, the Royal Concertgebouw Orchestra opened their program with the US premiere of Body Cosmic by the orchestra’s composer-in-residence, Ellen Reid. One of my all-time favorite musicians, Lisa Batiashvili, then offered Prokofiev’s Violin Concerto No. 2. Following the interval, the Concertgebouw’s Chief Conductor Designate Klaus Mäkelä led a seemingly endless performance of Rachmaninoff’s 2nd Symphony.

Annoyances put us in a bad mood as we waited for the concert to begin: the Hall was freezing cold, and the start time ran late. Then came the silly tradition of the musicians making an entrance, obliging the audience to applaud as they leisurely took their places. Most people don’t get applause just for showing up at their job. After the music started, a squirmy (but silent) little girl next to us had a squeaky seat that made a metallic grinding noise every time she moved, whilst the young man behind us kept kicking the backs of our seats (he must have been man-spreading to cover so much territory). At last the house lights dimmed, and the conductor took the podium.

The US premiere of Ms. Reid’s Body Cosmic was indeed what – back in the days of smoke and wine – we’d have called kozmic. The piece has a magical start, with rising passages lifting us out of the ordinary world into an airy, buzzy higher place. Is that a vibraphone I hear?

A key player in the work is the Concertgebouw’s harpist, though I cannot tell you which of the orchestra’s two principals was playing since my view of her was blocked by her harp. Meshing with the flutes, the harp evokes a drifting feeling. The concertmaster – or ‘leader’ as he is listed in the Playbill – Vesko Eshkenazi, has much to do in this 15 minute piece, and his sound has a luminosity that delights the ear. Likewise, the trumpet soloist is really impressive, though again their are two possibilities listed in the roster.

The music becomes increasingly rich in texture; it’s beautiful in an other-worldly sense. Muted trombones sigh, and then things get a bit jumbled. The violins, on a sustained high tone, clear the air. The harp again makes heavenly sounds, as distant chimes are heard. Flutes and high violins have a counter-poise in the deep basses (the Concertgebouw’s basses are particularly impressive). The music comes to a full stop.

A violin phrase sets the second movement on its way; did someone whistle? The flutes trill and shimmer, with the concertmaster playing agitato; the basses and celli plumb the depths. The music turns fluttery, and then brass fanfares sound. A continuous beat signals a sonic build-up; with large-scale brass passages, things turn epic, only to fade as the harp sounds and the flutes resume their trilling. The world seems to sway, the trumpeter trills. A march-like beat springs up and then speeds up, evoking a sense of urgency. Following a sudden stop, a massive chord sounds: thunderous drums seem to announce a massive finish, but Body Cosmic ends with a solitary note from the violin.

I can’t begin to tell you how absorbing and ear-pleasing this music was: so much going on, and all of it perfectly crafted and fantastically played. The composer, who was awarded the 2019 Pulitzer Prize in Music for her opera, p r i s m, looked positively dishy in her unique blue and white frock – which featured a leggy mini-skirt and a charming train – when she was called onto the stage for a bow. She was greeted by both the audience and the players themselves with fervent applause. Ben Weaver, who is with me – and who is often resistant to “new music” – admitted that he’d enjoyed it.

Ms. Batiashvili then took the stage, having stepped out of the pages of Vogue in her stunning black gown: the very picture of elegance. Back in the days when Alan Gilbert was in charge of the NY Phil, Lisa appeared there often; she and the Maestro had a very special rapport, and I recalled how much I always loved to watch their interaction…almost like partners in a dance. Ms. Batiashvili sounds as gorgeous as she looks; her timbre has a particular fragrance, something no other violinist of my experience can quite capture.

The Prokofiev concerto opens with the soloist playing alone: a hushed lament. The ensemble joins, taking up the theme. As the music becomes more animated, the violin sails thru fast figurations over the beating accompaniment of the basses. The music slows, and a fresh mood is then established, rather jaunty, with the soloist busily employed with reams of notes or with lyrical motifs, whilst unison basses and celli add a darker colour. Fanfares sound, and with Ms. Batiashvili playing at high-speed, everything breezes along…and then the music stalls. The low strings get things back on track, carrying the movement to a quirky finish.

The Andante assai is a gracious slow dance; it has a dotty start as the familiar theme sounds over plucking strings. Ms. Batiashvili was mesmerizing here, her control and phrasing so enticing: both her presence and her playing tell of her innate grace and loveliness. This theme then repeats itself, now with the feel of a swaying rubato, and here Lisa is just plain magical. A sort of da capo finds the orchestra taking up the theme and the violin playing rhythm.

In Prokofiev’s final Allegro ben marcato, Ms. Batiashvili dazzled us with with her virtuosity. Introducing fresh colours to the music, the composer adds castanets, the triangle, and the snare drum to his sonic delights. In a fascinating passage, Lisa’s slithering scales are underscored by the bass drum and double bass before we are swept along into the finale.

Having put us under her spell for a half-hour, Ms. Batiashvili responded to our heartfelt applause with a Bach encore (I’ll have the details of the piece soon, hopefully…and some photos, too!) and then she was called back for a final bow, the musicians joining the audience in homage to this sublime artist.

Update: Lisa’s encore was J. S. Bach’s Chorale Prelude on “Ich ruf’ zu dir, Herr Jesu Christ” (arranged for Violin and Strings by Anders Hillborg).

Following a drawn-out interval, the Rachmaninoff 2nd made its deep start with the strings and horns sounding darkly gorgeous. I was taking notes, thoroughly engaged in the music. But after a while, things began to wear thin. The playing was simply grand – the solo voices among the orchestra all marvelous – and so is the music…so why am I losing my focus? By the time the big, ultra-familiar cinematic theme of the Adagio commenced, I was getting restless. It all seemed like too much of a good thing. The final movement was a succession of ‘finales’ which turn out to be culs de sac, forcing the players back to the main road, seeking an exit.

After nearly an hour, the symphony ended to an enormous ovation and everyone in the Hall immediately leapt to their feet. My sidekick Ben Weaver and I hastened out into the rain. Ben was actually angry about the way the Rachmaninoff was done; he blamed the conductor. Then he told me that the composer had realized the work was too long and had later sanctioned cuts; tonight we’d heard the original, which is what made the music – which has a richness of themes and of orchestration that would normally thrill me (and it did, for the first quarter-hour) – feel like overkill to me. Often a composer’s second thoughts are more congenial to the ear than his original concept.

~ Oberon

November 22, 2024
József Simándy as Lohengrin

The great Hungarian tenor József Simándy (above) sings Lohengrin’s Grail Narrative in Hungarian from a televised performance, date unknown.

Watch and listen here.

József Simándy was born on September 18, 1916 in a small rural Hungarian town called Kistarcsa. After graduating high school he worked as an auto mechanic until the fall of 1939, when the City Theater hired him as a chorister.

Was was contracted as a soloist with the Szeged National Theater Opera Company in 1945. In the spring of 1947 he was hired by the Hungarian State Opera as a guest artist, and then became member of the company. Among his many roles were Turiddu, Don Jose, Lohengrin, Gabriele Adorno, Vladimir in Prince Igor), Radames, Walther von Stolzing, Manrico, Don Carlo, the Duke of Mantua, Lensky, Riccardo in Ballo in Maschera, Otello, Florestan, Canio, and Mario Cavaradossi. He also made guest appearances at the opera house in Munich,

Simándy retired in November 1973 but continued to perform frequently until an official farewell performance in 1980. He died in Budapest in 1997.

November 21, 2024
Arvo Pärt: Virgencita ~ Ars Nova Copenhagen

Arvo Pärt’s Virgencita, performed by Ars Nova Copenhagen and recorded live at Ansgars Kirke, Odense, Denmark, on November 20th 2017. Paul Hillier is the conductor.

Watch and listen here.

November 20, 2024
Jard van Nes ~ “Erbarme Dich, mein Gott”

Jard van Nes sings “Erbarme Dich, mein Gott” from Bach’s St Matthew Passion at a performance given at the Alpirsbach Monastery Church by the Bach Collegium München, with the Neuburger Chorgemeinschaft, and Tolzer Sängerknaben, under the baton of Enoch zu Guttenberg.

Watch and listen here.

October 31, 2024
Jard van Nes ~ “Erbarme Dich, mein Gott”

Jard van Nes sings “Erbarme Dich, mein Gott” from Bach’s St Matthew Passion at a performance given at the Alpirsbach Monastery Church by the Bach Collegium München, with the Neuburger Chorgemeinschaft, and Tolzer Sängerknaben, under the baton of Enoch zu Guttenberg.

Watch and listen here.

October 30, 2024
American Composers Orchestra @ Zankel Hall

Above: Curtis Stewart & Kebra-Seyoun Charles

~ Author: Shoshana Klein

Wednesday October 30th, 2024 – I’ve had a thing about the concept of borders since the US border patrol incinerated my innocent house plants at the US Canada border in 2022. The name of this concert by the American Composer’s Orchestra was “The New Virtuoso: Borders” and at the beginning, Curtis Stewart framed the concert in a way that sounded really great. He talked about using virtuosity in new ways, rethinking the way the instruments work, and considering the use of borders. This included the concept of good borders (like healthy boundaries) versus harmful borders – like those used to start wars, and those that mark our identities without causing harm. I really wondered if the music would live up to this deep description.

The program:

Michael Abels: Borders

Kebra-Seyoun Charles: New Work (ACO Commission, developed via EarShot CoLABoratory/World Premiere)

Curtis Stewart, Embrace (ACO Commission)

Paul Novak, Forest Migrations (ACO Commission/World Premiere)

Victoria Polevá, The Bell

The first piece was by Michael Abels, who has written the music to a bunch of blockbuster movies. The description of the piece and the inspirations for it that was printed in the program was beautiful – the idea was that in the first movement, the guitar is within the borders of the bar lines and in the second movement it’s not. The second movement also depicts a child running – sometimes in joy and sometimes in fear. It was a little hard to hear all of that in the music but in the second movement the guitar was definitely leading more and there were complicated rhythmic sections where the guitar and orchestra were definitely in different meters, which was a cool effect.

The Paul Novak piece “Forest Migrations” was about trees and ecological borders – he used the orchestra of the metaphor for forest and forest migration caused by climate change. He described how the movement of the piece would be slow – each player playing one at a time, and also mentioned that musicians owe a debt to the trees that their instruments are made of, which I thought was really interesting. I really liked the concept but I was not convinced that the effect was going to be unique. In reality, it was really well done but not what I expected from the description – there was a lot more movement and melody than I was expecting. I like the way the concept of borders were explored and discussed in this new way, but once again, I was not sure I heard it in the music the way it was described.

Before the start of Kebra-Seyoun Charles‘ piece, Curtis Stewart asked if they wanted to say anything else about it and they said “have fun.” The piece was all about blending musical styles – so mostly genre borders were those being addressed. There was harpsichord in the orchestration, which was really cool juxtaposed against some of the other musical styles that were played, and in the first movement the piece kept falling into a sort of Bach sound. The idea of the first movement was walking down the street in New York and catching snippets of lots of different things and I think it achieved that relatively well. The whole piece was very virtuosic and seemed really technically difficult for the bass soloist (though it was the composer, so they did a great job and obviously knew what they were getting into!). The second movement started very schmaltzy and almost sounded like a quote from something. Charles seemed to be having fun and they actually got the orchestra to sound kind of raucous in a way that you don’t hear often in a concert hall, which was refreshing.

The Victoria Poleva piece had dark and interesting sound worlds – it definitely explored the concept of a bell and the concept of war, though in reality a lot of the peace was actually really uplifting and bright. Another thing that was bright was the soloists dress which was right yellow and sparkly! This piece felt a lot more cinematic than Michael Abel’s piece, ironically. One movement was almost entirely an ascending major scale with various harmony changes. There were some really cool whistling wind whistling sounds going along with string string sounds that were like ghost noises. It was kind of interesting that this Ukrainian composer who mentioned Ukraine and mentioned the war didn’t really mention borders, though maybe it’s just implicit enough that it wasn’t necessary.

The last piece was by Curtis Stewart (above), who is also the artistic director of the ACO. This was probably the most involved piece of the program. There was a video and there was audio recording and there was audience participation! I’m always impressed when a composer tries to incorporate audience participation. In this context it worked pretty well, we basically sang chords in a progression. I wasn’t that much of a fan of the video but having the audio was nice. It was a compilation of his mother’s voice talking about music, interspersed with the composers from the concert and school kids from the ACO’s young composer program answering the same questions that she had. One of those questions that he mentioned before he started stuck with me was “how does music carry you through the changes in your life.” The piece was less full of electronics than I was expecting given his setup, but I did really like the music.

Conductor Mei-Ann Chen, who I’ve heard great things about, seemed like a dynamic, clear, and energetic leader who would be fun to play under. Overall, I suppose the theme of the concert for me was something along the lines of “great thoughts and concepts that don’t always come through in the music” but in some ways that’s par for the course in new music, and honestly I still prefer it to a lack of contextualization or tying things together – I love a concert that ties ideas together and brings up relevant issues. Many things were tried and many of them were successful.

~ Shoshana Klein

October 30, 2024
Voices from South Africa @ Weill Hall

Above: Siphokazi Molteno

~ Author: Oberon

Monday October 28th, 2024 – The Met Orchestra Chamber Ensemble presenting a program of classic and contemporary works at Weill Hall. I was very keen to hear mezzo-soprano Siphokazi Molteno. who represented South Africa at the 2023 Cardiff Singer of The World competition, and who made her Metropolitan Opera debut in 2022 as Flora in LA TRAVIATA.

Ms. Molteno opened the evening with the Brahms “Viola songs”, a pair of lullaby-like solos accompanied by viola (Shmuel D. Katz) and piano (Thomas Lausmann). The Molteno voice has a marvelous contralto richness as well as a lyrical warmth; to say she put me in mind of the great Florence Quivar is the highest compliment I can give. It’s a voice full of ‘humanity’ and a voice I will hope to hear again…and soon. Her colleagues from the MET Orchestra played sublimely, setting the evening gorgeously on its way.

There was then a longish pause while the stage was set for the next work, which involved five musicians: Seth Morris (flute), Tal First (viola), Hannah Cope (harp), Gregory Zuber (marimba), and Jeffrey Irving (percussion).

Above: composer Bongani Ndodana-Breen

The composer’s choice of instrumentation for his Rain Making really drew me in: if there’s a marimba to be heard, I want to hear it…and likewise the harp. Mr. Ndodana-Breen composed this piece in memory of Queen Modjadi, one in a line of Rain Queens of the Balobedu people in the Limpopo province of South Africa. A Rain Queen is believed to have the power to control the rain and the winds. This mythic association made the music even more intriguing for me.

The players made a wonderful blend and the evocative sounds included a rhythmical flute, a plucked violin, and a bean bag played by the percussionist. The flute and violin trade melodic phrases, the violin shivers, the melismatic marimba enchants. Then, to a big, pounding beat propelled by the bass drum, the storm comes: the Rain Queen’s magic has succeeded. I loved this music, and watching the musicians as they entered into the spirit of the ritual; my only complaint was that the piece is too short.

Maurice Ravel’s sultry Chansons madécasses found a most congenial interpreter in Ms. Molteno. I first heard these songs in 1975 when New York City Ballet premiered a Jerome Robbins ballet of the same title; the singer was Lorna Myers. Since then, I have frequently listened to the songs on Mira Zakai‘s marvelous recording.

The first of the three songs, Nahandove, has a beautifully sultry feeling: it tells of the seduction of a native woman. Jerry Grossman’s cello opens the piece, and Ms. Molteno’s voice is at its most sumptuous as she begins this tale of longing and ecstasy. Jazzy piano rhythms from Mr. Lausmann and the sound of the piping flute (played by Maron Khoury) develop a rocking feeling; the music turns pensive and then caressive. With the song’s final strophe, “Tu pars...” the tryst ends, though it seems the lovers will meet again at sunset.

The second song, Aoua!, opens with the singer screeching a warning: do not trust the white men! The piano takes up a swaying rhythm as Ms. Molteno continues with singing of great intensity. This is violent, angry music, though eventually the cello and flute sound forlorn.

By contrast, the final song – Il est doux – is a languid reflection on the joys of resting the shade of a tree on a late afternoon, while a lover whispers in your ear. The sensuous flute, the eerie cello on high echoing the buzzing insects with a trill, the voice and the cello entwining, solitary notes from the piano…so atmospheric. Ms. Molteno’s singing was evocative and so pleasing to experience. The song ends with the swiftly spoken dismissal: “Go and prepare the evening meal…”

Following a longish interval, an ensemble of eight instrumentalists took the stage for music by Matthijs Van Dijk (above): we heard his extraordinarily powerful oratorio Moments in a Life. I had previously heard one of this Cape Town-based composer’s works [(rage) rage against the] played by the Signum Quartet in this very hall.

Thus, I expected a lot from the composer’s Moments in a Life, composed in 2016 for string quintet, clarinet, percussion, piano, overtone singer & narrator. Could lightning strike twice in the same place? The answer is a resounding YES!…Moments in a Life is one of the most powerful works I have ever experienced.

The oratorio is based on the writings of Denis Goldberg, a native of Cape Town whose parents were politically active. In 1957, Denis joined the (banned) Communist Party and he was arrested and jailed in 1960 for supporting strikers. In the mid-1960s he was with other freedom fighters who were arrested for illegal acts and jailed. He remained a prisoner for 22 years, constantly being tortured and threatened with death.

At this evening’s performance, Gareth Lubbe (above) was the narrator. Mr. Lubbe is also an overtone singer; this is a technique in which the resonance in the mouth and throat are combined with tongue, lip, and jaw movements which create a perception of overtones as being individual notes. It’s a sound that is eerie…and fascinating.

Moments in a Life, conducted by William Long, gives us so much to take in in its 40-minute duration. Trying to follow the narrative whilst also listening to the music was a bit of a challenge for me, a dedicated note-taker: I filled three pages with notes which barely scratched the surface of the work.

“I was sure we would not die in prison,” marks the oratorio’s opening line. As the narration moves forward, the writer recalls his first teacher, who he fell in love with. He speaks of not seeing his wife and children for more than two decades while imprisoned. A fellow freedom fighter, Looksmart Ngudle, was tortured to death. Freedom costs.

Nelson Mandela defends the accused patriots: “An ideal for which I am prepared to die”. Sentenced to life in jail, they are moved to a harsher prison affectionately known as “Beverly Hills”: three thousand prisoners singing hymns as individuals are led away to be hanged. Ironically, a gorgeous musical theme underscores this tragedy.

Periodically thru the work, Mr. Lubbe’s overtone singing makes a striking impression: an indescribable mixture of humming and whistling.

As to the music, the opening measures are pensively played by clarinetist Jessica Phillips: a slow, wide-ranging solo, soon joined by piano and strings. Cellist Mariko Wyrick underscores the story of the teacher, Ms. Cook. Andrew Gantzer’s double bass, so impressive throughout the piece, tells of Looksmart’s ordeal.

Mr. Lubbe’s voice growls deeply; percussionist Jeffrey Irving plays a rollicking ‘cadenza’. Beauteous strings, the clarinet sings again; here are glowering chords and a lament played by violist Shmuel D Katz. Mr. Lubbe has an unaccompanied solo.

Pianist Katelan Trần Terrell and Mr. Gantzer’s bass establish a beat; Mr. Katz strums his viola. A sudden militant outburst forebodes the assassination of activist Chris Hani; a poignant violin passage (Yurika Mok and Yang Xu) underscores the narrator’s reflections on Chris’s death.

“A petty exercise of power that harms our people.”

At last, in the forced-labor setting of The Quarry, where Nelson Mandela and his brother freedom fighters languished, a glorious theme of hope develops: “Let Freedom Reign”. Mr. Lubbe’s otherworldly overtones are heard over a long, sustained chord.

The audience, who had witnessed the performance is a state of awed silence, now gave the performers a fervent round of applause.

Back home, I went to YouTube to see what I could find about this powerful work and immediately discovered this incredible document: Moments in a Life, recorded live in concert in the Endler Hall at the Stellenbosch International Chamber Music Festival on July 16th, 2016. This, I believe, was the work’s world premiere, with Denis Goldberg – then aged 83 – reading the texts (drawn from his autobiography) himself. The great freedom fighter passed away in 2020.

The work is so timely right now, when our democracy stands on a precipice. If we falter, our country – and indeed the world – will be forever changed.

~ Oberon

October 29, 2024