Tuesday, October 30, 2012

What’s Love Got to Do with It?

Good question. Leslie Fornino gave a stab at an answer on Sunday afternoon. She was ably assisted by Richard Danley (piano), Saadi Zain (bass), and Mike Campenni (percussion).
This was pretty much a club/cabaret act in a concert hall setting. A cocktail or two would have been nice. Ms Fornino opened with the title song and afterwards assured us that she was not Tina Turner. She performed with a standard belting style, and sang well throughout. I take a bit of an issue with belters pushing their range higher and higher, but I’ve heard enough of it now to know that it is pretty much the standard musical theater technique. Still, it’s not my favorite.
There were sixteen songs performed (more, really, since one was a medley of shows/roles she had not been cast in), so we’ll hear about some, not all, of them. The songs ranged from Irving Berlin (Lost in His Arms – Annie Get Your Gun) to Sondheim (Take Me to the World – Evening Primrose) with stops along the way in the Heartbreak Hotel, Wherever He Ain’t (Mack and Mabel), Colored Lights (The Rink), I Hate Men (Kiss Me Kate), and You Could Drive a Person Crazy (dedicated to her husband, no less!).
A cute novelty number, I Like Them Bald followed People and Love on the Rocks (gotta love a good prop!). The non-cast-in medley included Worst Pies in London (Sweeney Todd),
A Boy Like That (West Side Story), Shall We Dance? (King and I), Just in Time (Bells Are Ringing), and Wonderful Guy (South Pacific).
So we heard about love, learned about love, learned how not to love, and learned that love has everything to do with it. A great lesson learned on an enjoyable Sunday afternoon (even with Sandy-monium* looming over our collective heads).
ConcertMeister
*Thanks, BabyBro

Monday, October 29, 2012

L’après midi en France (10/27/12)

This was a very entertaining Saturday afternoon of flute (Megan Emigh) and piano (Riko Higuma) music with a varied French program:
Romance for Flute and Piano, Op. 37 (1871) – Camille Saint-Saëns

Sonata for flute and piano (1957) – Francis Poulenc 
  1. Allegretto malincolio
  2. Cantilena: Assez lent
  3. Presto giocoso

Suite for Flute and Piano, Op. 34 (1877) – Charles-Marie Widor

Sonata for flute and harpsichord – Jean-Marie Leclair  No. 8 in G major, book 4, No. 7 (1723)

Sonatine for Flute and Piano (1946) – Pierre Boulez
First, both performers were top notch all afternoon long. I found that the opening piece lacked a little bit of oomph, but in respect of the rest of the program, it was the right spot for it. It was played well, just a little too calm for my taste as an opener.
I really enjoyed the Poulenc a great deal, and the Presto giocoso provided a lot of bravura playing from both performers. Throughout, I felt that the flute was more prominent (in the writing) but the piano was a strong, if not quite equal, partner. Both of these young ladies (Ms. Emigh’s bio listed her age as 23, Ms. Higumas’s did not list her age) are well-polished performers with varied international experience. Their playing was nuanced and clear.
The Widor was less successful, as a composition. Widor was primarily an organist/composer and while this piece fulfilled its aims, those aims were not quite on the same level as the Poulenc, to my ears.
The Leclair was a nice change of pace. As explained from the stage, movements one and three were composed in a French style (almost as dance movements) while movements two and four were in the Italian style (more energetic). All four movements were brief and well composed with clear phrasing and musical statements. This was straightforward music played very cleanly.
Also as explained from the stage, the Boulez was an early piece, written when he was a first-year student at the Paris Conservatoire. It explored his new-found knowledge of 12-tone music and it had glimpses of the Boulez rhythm and drive that I associate with this composer. But it was, indeed, an early work with almost an “everything-but-the-kitchen-sink” approach to composing. Still, while not my favorite piece on the program, it was dispatched in a thoroughly professional manner.
As to a professional manner, I would urge both performers to take ownership of their audience acknowledgments and curtain calls. Indecision in this aspect tends to slightly undo the enjoyment of what we had just heard. Take a bow. Take a second one if the applause seems to dictate it. Don’t hesitate – just do it!
ConcertMeister

Tuesday, October 23, 2012

A Song Recital

It’s been a long time since I have heard one. Maybe back in college, or a recent Carnegie Community Concert? Wendy Brown has a pleasing voice, very good intonation and very clear diction. Her phrasing was a bit lacking, and she did have a couple of vocal bobbles.
She opened with a Bach solo cantata, Vergnügte Ruh, beliebte Seelenlust, which seemed a bit too much on the gentle side for my taste for an opener. This was followed by two Clara Schumann songs—what a delight to hear her compositions. Liebst du um schönheit was very sweet, and Er ist gekommen had quite a rolling accompaniment (the pianist was David Holkeboer). Next was Frauenliebe und Leben by Robert Schumann. I’m a bit of a purist and I would have preferred it if there was not applause after each of the eight songs in the cycle.
Most of the eight were dispatched fairly well, although there were two in which
Ms. Brown’s technique faltered a bit. This is a lovely cycle and I know it only from recordings, so I was very happy to hear it live. I hope to hear it live again.
After intermission, we had Charlotte’s letter scene (from Massenet’s Werther), which had virtuosic accompaniment. Three Debussy songs followed (in a classic song recital style)—Le Flûte de Pan (gentle), La Chevelure (more dramatic in build and flow), and Le Tombeau de Naïades. All three had signature Debussy trés French accompaniments and style.
What a Movie, from Bernstein’s Trouble in Tahiti followed, in a very nice performance. Throughout, Ms. Brown’s diction was very clear—something that is sometimes lacking when singing in English. Whether her German and French diction would have pleased native speakers, I’ll leave for others to comment on.
We finished with three Kurt Weill songs—Der Abschiedsbrief* (with prop), Saga of Jenny, and My Ship. The prop in the first was a letter, which was used to just moderate success. In Saga of Jenny, I found myself wishing that Ms. Brown had been a little more relaxed. Here, the tempo and the diction seemed a bit forced. My Ship was touching, though it and Saga of Jenny were marred by a few memory lapses.
*For Der Abschiedsbrief, the program notes read, “Set as a slightly smarmy English waltz in E Major …” I didn’t get English or smarmy. All the more reason to take program notes with a grain of salt, as I mentioned to the two young ladies sitting next to me. (They were taking more notes than I was—theirs were for a Music History class at Fordham, and apparently Music History classes are still bright and early in the early part of the week, just as mine were, oh-so-many years ago!)
Other misinformation from the program notes said that Ms. Brown “was a member of the Metropolitan Opera’s Extra Chorus from 2002–1009.” And that Johannes Brahms met Clara and Robert Schumann in 1953!
Still, a classic song recital, spanning eras and languages is a plus in my blog.
ConcertMeister

Monday, October 15, 2012

Global Rhythms with Alexander A. Wu (Piano)

Wow. Where to begin? I know that I’ve blogged about Alex Wu  before. The 10/13/12 concert was not quite a lecture/concert performance, although Mr. Wu did speak about most of the pieces, and that added quite a bit of depth to the afternoon and to the performances. There were 17 pieces on the program—while I made notes for all, they might not all get full development here.
Global? Yes. USA, Dominican Republic, Canada, Brazil, China, Mexico, Japan, Italy, and France. Rhythm? Yes. Jazz, Tango, Samba, Ragtime.
We started out with a pleasant, light, almost “easy listening pop” Valentine by Fred Hersh (USA). My next favorite was Malgré Tout, (Mexico, Manuel Ponce). This piece (“after all” or “all the same”) was composed for left hand only, in honor of the sculptor who, one-handed, created a sculpture by the same name. I learn so much exploring NYC.
ArgentinaPiazzolla—nuevo tango—Libertango. This was a transcription for piano of the landmark Piazzolla composition. Throughout, Mr. Wu’s technique and musicality were just great. A Brazilian three-fer gave us a Choro (very showy technique), a generation-defining tune (La Garota de Ipanema), and a Samba with very lush, dense writing.
My notes for the Choro include “SC”. To me this was music that I can imagine hearing (or imagine seeing others listening to, in old black and white films) in fancy supper clubs. The type of music that is in the background but is oh, so much more important than just being background music. Others in the SC category included two Earl Wild transcriptions of George Gershwin songs—Somebody Loves Me and a wicked version of Fascinatin’ Rhythm (this one garnered an SC+).
In a mini-Far East set, there were two Tan Dun works, Herdboy’s Song and Sunrain from his Opus 1. The first was an evocation of a folk tune while the second seemed to be a Western-music take on a folk tune. Hey, it was Opus 1—an early work. These were followed by a feathery arrangement of Sakora, a traditional Japanese folk song that took me back to the fourth grade. This tune was in our school music book and it was (to my fourth-grader’s ears) the most exotic thing I’d ever heard. That’s the power of folk songs.
Along the way, we heard nods to new age, minimalism, and blues. Truly global. While the Fascinatin’ Rhythm was a tour de force, the closing piece—Blue Rondo a la Turk (Dave Brubeck)—was classic(al) jazz.
Mr. Wu’s playing, and his clear and concise explanations, turned this into a wonderful afternoon of truly global rhythms.
ConcertMeister

Saturday, October 13, 2012

The Silent Clowns—Sort of (10/6/12)

The second program in the new series threw us a curve ball, as in, instead of a short followed by a feature, we had the feature followed by the short. And the feature was preceded by a “Coming Attraction” trailer for the feature next in the series. Are you still with me? Here’s the method behind the madness—and there was madness and mayhem!
In addition to the topsy-turvy programming, the feature wasn’t even a comedy. Saturday’s bill was Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde (1920) starring John Barrymore. The short was a comedy—Dr. Pyckle and Mr. Pryde (1925) starring Stan Laurel.
The Barrymore version was very interesting and very well acted. The print we were viewing had some odd tints to it, which made the viewing a little difficult. But it was really a very moving portrayal of the macabre Robert Louis Stevenson story. Apparently Barrymore insisted on “doing the first transformation scene in one long, unbroken take sans special effects,” per the program notes, and very effective it was.
In contrast, and according to the onstage program notes—yes, the co-producers actually speak and explain things to the audience before the films are shown—the short was a travesty (not parody) of the feature. Well, any program notes that send me to the dictionary are A-OK in my book. Travesty: (n) a composition that imitates or misrepresents somebody's style, usually in a humorous way. I’m thinking that the difference is that the Laurel short didn’t rewrite the original, but told the original story (and used some of the specific visual styles of the original) in a humorous way. And, boy, was it humorous! As Dr. Pyckle, Laurel was a round-bespectacled, milquetoast sort of fellow. When transformed to Mr. Pryde, we saw the characteristic goofy grin we came to know and love in the Laurel and Hardy comedies. (It reminded me a great deal of a Dick Van Dyke imitation of Stan Laurel.)
And while the transformations of John Barrymore were played to fine dramatic effect, Laurel’s transformations—and the speed at which they took place—were pure comedy.
As always, the films were presented beautifully and the hard-working team putting it all together did a great job. And, as always, I will single out Ben Model for his unflagging, enthusiastic piano accompaniments to these silent films that I’m so lucky to be able to see.
ConcertMeister
p.s. There will be some bona fide concert posts in the near future.