Opus Two (12/28/13)

Music of George Gershwin (1898–1937), William Terwilliger (violin), and Andrew Cooperstock (piano).

Selections from Porgy and Bess (1935) (arr. Jascha Heifetz) – Summertime/A Woman Is a Sometime Thing; My Man’s Gone Now; Bess, You Is My Woman Now; It Ain’t Necessarily So; Tempo di Blues
Short Story, for Violin and Piano (1927)
Three Preludes for Piano (1927) (arr. Jascha Heifetz) – Allegro ben ritmato e deciso; Andante con moto e poco rubato; Allegro ben ritmato e deciso
Excerpts from An American in Paris (1929) (arr. Jascha Heifetz/Ayke Agus)
Suite from Girl Crazy (1930/2012) (arr. Eric Stern – But Not for Me; Bidin’ My Time; Embraceable You; I Got Rhythm

First, this was some of the highest caliber playing I’ve heard in these free concerts at the Library for the Performing Arts. We actually got Summertime twice. It was played as a sort of lagniappe before Messrs. Cooperstock and Terwilliger took to the microphone in what was a bit of an old-fashioned concert/lecture. We learned that Gershwin (or the Gershwins) had written an earlier opera, “Blue Monday,” though I haven’t explored that info, yet, and that the first Heifetz arrangement we heard was made in 1944. Summertime had a rocking, lullaby accompaniment, with the tune presented in a straightforward manner. That was pretty much the tone of all of the Heifetz arrangements, though there was some exquisite writing for the violin. My Man’s Gone had an expansive opening from the piano, while the introduction to Bess was not exactly what was expected, but you knew that Bess was coming. Tempo di Blues seemed new to me, until I recognized the phrase, “There’s a Boat that’s Leaving Soon.”

From the stage, we learned that Short Story was the only Gershwin composition written for violin and piano and that, despite its charms, it never really caught on. I can fully see why, though, once again, this performance was completely enjoyable and well played.

The Three Preludes were all pretty much familiar to me. The second was relatively moody while the third was reminiscent of “It Ain’t Necessarily So” both rhythmically and in the tunes involved. Unfortunately the performance was marred slightly by the ringing of a cell phone in the audience. Turn the damn things off, or to vibrate. In fairness, there was not a specific announcement made ahead of time, but really?

An American in Paris was announced as 1928 from the stage, though the program said 1929. As an introduction, there was a film clip of the M-G-M musical, which I thought was not necessary at all. The juxtaposition of recorded music against what we were hearing live only made me appreciate the live sound even more. This arrangement for duo was just fine, though there were not imported French car horns as there were for the NY premiere of the original!

With the suite from Girl Crazy, we got a nice introduction to the popular/Broadway song form—AABA—a phrase, repeated, then a contrasting phrase (called the “bridge” or the “release”), followed by a return to the first phrase (usually musically, but with different lyrics). There was another film clip intro, which served no real purpose as far as I was concerned (though the audience seemed to appreciate Judy Garland’s singing). Mr. Stern’s arrangement was definitely an updating, in style, from the Heifetz arrangements. But Not for Me was cinematic, but still direct in terms of the tune. Bidin’ My Time had humor built into the arrangement. Embraceable You had a bit of a winding intro and then a lush laying out of the tune in the piano. I Got Rhythm jazzed up and tossed around the rhythm—to be expected. I have had the pleasure of singing an Eric Stern arrangement of a show tune (commissioned for the barbershop quartet I sang with at the time), and these arrangements pleased me just as much.

An encore was played—an Aaron Copland transcription of his “Hoedown” from Rodeo. While interesting, it was almost too frantic for my taste. I think I might have been happier sticking with all Gershwin. Still, as mentioned above, these two pros played marvelously, and it’s very clear that they are very well attuned to each other. What a great way to end a ConcertMeister year!

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Holiday Songbook, 2013 (12/14/13)

My regular reminder—Songbook is a performance of music written by up-and-coming (and sometimes already-established) music theater composers and lyricists. Holiday Songbook includes holiday songs composed for musical theater shows as well as songs composed especially for this event. This year there were two (different) performances—I caught the one on Saturday and there was another one Monday evening (12/16), that I couldn’t make, unfortunately.

There were 16 songs on display, so I’ll hit some of my favorites. Guess What? It’s Christmas! – Music, Brad Ross and Lyrics, Barbara Campbell – was a traditional, fun Christmas song and it was a great opener for the afternoon. Everything a Girl Wants – M/L, Tim Rosser/Charlie Sohne – is from a musical in progress that involves creation of toys. The song refers to a teddy bear, so a repeating tag line is, “Everything a girl wants—from a bear.” The Snow Queen, by Micah Young, was a real classical-style, story song based on the Hans Christian Andersen tale. It was a modern-day lied that was given a wonderful performance.

My Epiphany – Andrew David Sotomayor – was a paean to that unsung, until now, holiday that received a humorous and interesting treatment. You want humor? The Egg Nog Song – M/L, Derek Gregor/Sam Carner – delivered. Written especially for this event, it started off as a traditional holiday song until we got to the hook—somebody put acid (the LSD variety) in the eggnog. It gave a new meaning to this “magic” season, and it got real laughs throughout. Outcast Holiday – Eli Zoller – reminded us that Jesus was somewhat of an outcast, as are we all in some ways. It was almost like a folk song and was accompanied by a guitar and a mandolin—you don’t hear very many mandolins on stage these days.

The Prisoner’s Song – Joe Iconis – was the closer and was quite an audience pleaser, too. It had a call-and-response section (not usually my favorite performance device) that was used to good effect here.

All of the composers, lyricists, accompanists, and vocalists acquitted themselves well (with a few minor fluffs). But some of the backstories were really fun to hear. One gal had learned her song on the day of the performance and did a bang-up job. Two sisters, who are writing partners, had only rehearsed with each other via phone, including delays in the two different speakerphones. The afternoon’s musical styles included folk, country, traditional, rock’n’roll, and Sondheim-esque treatments, among others.

The program was produced by Erica Ruff and directed and hosted by John Znidarsic, the man with the red hat. I really wish that I could have heard Monday night’s version, especially as it was all different songs, but I’m sure glad that I got to experience this holiday treat!

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Blasts from the Past, Sort of (11/16 and 23)

Pre-Thanksgiving concerts that I’m just now getting around to blogging about. Saturday the 16th found me at Bargemusic again, and I’m delighted to report that they had a printed program available. The performers were Branko Simic, violin; Ian Tyson, clarinet; and Judy Pang, piano. The program of all-living composers: Serenade for Three, Dances, Songs, Variations – Peter Schickele (1935–); Tibetan Dance, Prelude, Song, Tibetan Dance – Bright Sheng (1955–); and Trio for Clarinet, Violin and Piano – Paul Schoenfield (1947–).

The first movement of the Schickele was rhythmic, playful, and focused, reminding me of the music of Aaron Copland, while the second contrasted with a slower, calm beginning that included a repeated note in the piano with filigree work from the violin and clarinet. The third movement was perky again, with a sense of real Americana, reminiscent of a barn dance cum jazz dance in honky-tonk style, with touches of humor. (As a side note, Mr. Schickele has a very humorous side in his persona as PDQ Bach.)

The Bright Sheng offering opened with transparent writing that included more modern and dissonant harmonies. The second movement was a violin/clarinet duet, also with very modern harmonies, though not so far afield as to be off-putting. The final movement was rhythmic, almost imitative of drumming, followed by fragmented melodic phrases. The movement then bounced back and forth between cacophonous sections, rhythmic and fragmented sections, finishing with a bold, cacophonous flourish.

The beginning of Mr. Schoenfield’s piece had a klezmer-like feel, with a wailing clarinet line and bending of pitches from the violin and clarinet, with an Eastern European feel. This was followed by a tuneful minor key march, a contrasting calmer section, and a return to the klezmer sound while maintaining a mystical quality. The third movement began with solo clarinet, joined by the violin, and then the piano. The meandering phrases had a somewhat amorphous effect that then segued into the fourth movement, with all three instruments being equal partners with dance-like rhythms, tempos getting faster, then relaxing a bit, and then—off to the races! The piece finished with a bang. It was quite a pleasure to hear an afternoon of music by living composers.

The following Saturday found me at a vocal recital featuring Marco Stefani, tenor, and Brent Funderburk, piano. The program included three Haydn songs, a Handel aria, three Schubert lieder, and an aria from Mignon, by Ambroise Thomas. After intermission, there were three Liszt songs and a Rossini aria from La Cenerentola.

Mr. Stefani produced a clear voice with good diction and declamatory phrasing in the Haydn songs. I felt that some of the rapid settings of the lyrics ended up with some of them getting lost. The Handel aria had nicely adapted phrasing and interesting treatment of many of the repeats of the refrain. While the Schubert songs were nice, they seemed to be the same type of singing over and over, with not much variation. The Mignon aria sounded somewhat more comfortable, as if it might have been in Mr. Stefani’s repertoire longer than the earlier songs.

The Liszt songs were a return to the same declamatory singing and phrasing, while the La Cenerentola aria was once again more comfortable, including some of the more rapid, florid passages. All in all, the program was successful, though I would have liked to hear a bit more subtlety and variation. Mr. Funderburk was an excellent accompanist and partner throughout the entire concert. I’m glad I heard the recital, but I wish I had liked it a little better. But, hey! the price (free) was right.

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Man with the Bag (12/7/13)

'Tis the season, and the PhilHallmonics were back at the Bruno Walter Auditorium with a program of holiday favorites. Phil Hall (piano) with a bass player and a reed player (saxophone, oboe, clarinet, and flute, if I’m remembering correctly), plus ten Ladies, all in a program staged and choreographed by Sharon Halley, provided a really fun afternoon. I saw the first of two performances on Saturday.

The program was a very nice mix of secular and serious (though not overly religious), with some broad (pun intended) humor, a bit of dancing, solos and ensemble numbers (with real harmony), and an appearance by Santa (including a breakaway Santa suit!). While some of the ladies were more polished performers than others, there were no clunkers amid the 32 numbers on the program. Unfortunately, there were a few technical glitches resulting in some microphone “pops” and a bit of feedback.

Highlights included I’ve Got My Love to Keep Me Warm, I’ll Be Home for Christmas (simple, yet effective), a jazzy version of The Christmas Waltz, Christmas Time Is Here (for all you Peanuts fans), A Marshmallow World/You’re All I Want for Christmas, and Silent Night (piano, bass, and reeds).

Serious presentations included A La Nanita Nana, Sweet Little Jesus Boy, I Remember, and Hallelujah (not the one you’re thinking of), while On This Winter’s Night added a touch of country and Let It Snow! Let It Snow! Let It Snow! gave us a bit of the old soft shoe.

In the humor department, Mister Santa involved the use of potholder Santas—I’m a sucker for that sort of thing! Suzy Snowflake, Dance of the Sugar Plum Fairy, Mele Kalikimake, The Man with the Bag, and the finale, A Swingin’ Christmas, also added dashes of humor.

All in all, this was a fun way to ease into the holiday spirit. Thank you, PhilHallmonics and thank you, Lincoln Center Library for the Performing Arts.

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50 Years Anniversary (A Most Unfortunate Word) (11/9/13)

Saturday’s chamber music program was titled The Music of the Kennedy White House: 1961–1963 and featured The Serendip Piano Trio – Christiana Liberis, violin; In Hwa Lee, cello; and Alexander Wu, piano, arranger. Par for the course for a concert with Mr. Wu, he had interesting tidbits that he shared with us about the pieces on the program.

I. Felix Mendelssohn (1809–1847), Piano Trio No. 2 in d minor, opus 49, third movement – Scherzo – Leggero e vivace
II. Albert Hay Malotte (arr. by C. Deis), The Lord’s Prayer; George Gershwin (1898–1937), Virtuoso Etudes based on Gershwin (1924) (arr. by Earl Wild), Etude No. 3, The Man I Love, Etude No. 7, Fascinatin’ Rhythm
III. Leonard Bernstein (1918–1990), Somewhere from West Side Story, for violin and piano (arr. by R. Penaforte)
IV. Aaron Copland (1900–1990), Hoe-Down from Rodeo (Ballet Suite) (arr. by A. Wu)
V. Pablo Casals (1876–1973), Cant dell Ocells (Song of the Birds), for cello and piano
VI. Dave Brubeck (1920–2012), Blue Rondo a la Turk
VII. Paquito D’Rivera (b. 1948), Danzón (best guess, as it was announced from the stage)
VIII. Mendelssohn, Piano Trio No. 2 in d minor, opus 49, fourth movement – Finale – Allegro assai appassionato

All of the pieces had links to the Kennedy White House, but I may not have written all of them down. Pablo Casals played the Mendelssohn piano trio there, and he often ended concerts with his own Cant dell Ocells (and did so at the WH). Earl Wild played for the Kennedys and at the WH of five other presidents. Dave Brubeck played for the Kennedys, and saxophonist Paul Winter played the D’Rivera for the Kennedy WH. So, on to the music.

The Mendelssohn Scherzo was a bright and energetic way to open the concert and it had a delightful ending; the Finale was a brisk romp and a great way to close the concert. The famous Malotte “Lord’s Prayer” was played as a tribute to spirituals and the civil rights aspect of the times. Apparently Mahalia Jackson sang it there—this was a piano solo. The Earl Wild etudes are really wonderful pieces (I think I may have commented on them before). “The Man I Love” was a bit tentative, but Mr. Wu tore at the keyboard for a virtuosic performance of “Fascinatin’ Rhythm.” After it was over he said, slightly under his breath, “Too many notes.” I disagree and I’m pleased that I got to hear all of them.

“Somewhere” was a combination of a straightforward rendering with some jazz riffs thrown in for good measure. “Hoe-Down” was full-bodied fun, with a false ending and then an ending that actually topped it. The Casals cello piece had a mournful quality (hello! It’s the cello!) but also somehow a positive spin. Maybe the freedom of the birds? (That’s my spin and I’m sticking with it.)

The Brubeck was bluesy and jazzy—perfect for the Kennedy era. It took a basic 1-2-3-4-5-6-7-8 (or 1-2-3-4-5-6-7-8) rhythm and re-formed it to 1-2-3-1-2-3-1-2. I hope that makes sense. Try tapping the rhythm yourself. (Try it twice.) D’Rivera’s danzón had ballad-like sections contrasted with Latin rhythmic sections in a true mix of classical and jazz techniques.

All three musicians were top-notch players and they performed with that chamber music mentality where at any given time any one of the three is running the show. But really, Mr. Wu ran the show—he’s just a darned good entertainer, and his commentary is clear, easily accessible, and fun.

An Astor Piazzolla tango, “Oblivion,” written as part of a film score or used in a film score, was a well-played encore. It had a calm opening, was tuneful and easy to listen to, and was full and rich. Much like the entire afternoon.

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Chamber Music (11/5/13)

But with a twist. On Tuesday evening I heard Wolfgang Panhofer, cello, and Alfred Melichar, accordion, in a program of Vivaldi, Gubaidulina, Schubert, Verdi, Bischof, Kohn, and Piazzolla. Eclectic, to say the least. Cello and accordion? It was not quite as out of place as you might think. The accordion acted as an accompanying partner, much as a piano or an organ might.

Antonio Vivaldi (1678–1741) – Sonata in E Minor, RV 40; Largo, Allegro,
Largo, Allegro
Sofia Gubaidulina (1931–) – In Croce
Franz Schubert (1797–1828) –
Die schöne Müllerin, D. 795; Die Liebe Farbe, Trockne Blumen, Der Müller und
der Bach
Winterreise, D. 911; Irrlicht, Der stürmische Morgen, Der Leiermann
Die Forelle, D. 550
Giuseppe Verdi (1813–1902) – Messa da Requiem; Ingemisco
Rainer Bischof (1947–) – Cadenza (World Premiere)
Karl Kohn (1926–) – Canzonetta for accordion (US Premiere)
Astor Piazzolla (1921–1922) – Le Grand Tango

In the Vivaldi, I noticed a very full tone from the cello with a lighter, almost piano—or, more to the point, hurdy-gurdy—accompaniment. The second Largo movement had lyrical phrases (more so than the first Largo) and the final movement was Vivaldi at his jauntiest.

Ms. Gubaidulina’s very modern work reminded me more of cello and organ, with the accordion playing very close dissonant notes, half-step and whole-step juxtapositions, while the cello played mostly short phrases within a very small range with a swooping gesture to end the phrases. A frantic section followed where both instruments essentially shrieked, then the cellist strummed a single string and bounced the bow off of the strings over the equivalent of a pedal point (one sustained pitch for a long period of time) from the accordion.

Schubert’s songs were interesting to hear in this context, though I’m not familiar enough with either of the song cycles to really compare them to the original intent. It was also a little strange to hear them without all of the repeats, but without the strophic texts, it really wasn’t necessary. Of the three Winterreise songs, the first had a very effective diminuendo from the accordion at the end; the second was very brief, with a martial quality; and the third was quite melancholy.

Ingemisco finally gave me what I had been craving all along—a really singing tone from the cello and a more fully supportive sound from the accordion. Part of that was Verdi, I’m sure, but that fullness had been lacking earlier.

Cadenza requires a little bit of explanation. A cadenza is a brief solo at the end of a concerto movement that is sometimes improvised, sometimes hinted at by the composer, and sometimes truly composed. In this case, Mr. Panhofer will be playing a cello concerto by Arthur Honegger in Moscow in the near future. This cadenza (I’m not sure for which movement) was composed by Rainer Bischof for that occasion. Mr. Panhofer wisely chose to premiere the cadenza here rather than waiting for the concerto performance. It was certainly fiery and at several points he snapped the strings so hard that they thwacked against the fingerboard. I’m pretty sure that was the intent.

The Kohn Canzonetta was composed for Mr. Melichar and consisted of short phrases along with some more sustained, almost Romantic-feeling phrases and included “shakes” and “wheezes” as well as other varied accordion techniques.

Piazzolla’s tango was definitely dance-like, exploiting and exploring traditional phrases and then expanding them and expounding on them. This turned them into a very contemporary piece while not losing the tango’s historical feel and flare.

A note on the accordion—the style played was a button accordion, where there are not the usual (to me) piano-style keys.

http://tinyurl.com/owjz4r8

It seems to me that this increased the range of the right hand (melody hand) by quite a bit.

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Barber and Moore (10/26/13)

Well, the title was certainly misleading—pianist Benjamin Bradham did play a Samuel Barber sonata, as well as works by Mozart, Beethoven Brahms, and Liszt. Maybe Moore was supposed to be More?

W. A. Mozart (1756–1791) – Rondo in D major; K. 485; Rondo in a minor, K. 511
L. van Beethoven (1770–1827) – Sonata in f minor (“Appassionata”), Op. 57, Allegro assai, Andante con moto, Allegro ma non troppo
Johannes Brahms (1833–1897) – Capriccio in f-sharp minor, Op. 76, No. 1; Intermezzo in B-flat Major, Op. 76, No. 4; Capriccio in g minor, Op. 116, No. 3; Intermezzo, Op. 116, No. 6
Franz Liszt (1811–1886) – Valse Oubliée (“Forgotten Waltz”); Transcendental Etude No. 10 in f minor
Samuel Barber (1910–1981) – Sonata in e-flat minor, Op. 26 (1949), Allegro energico, Allegro vivace e leggiero, Adagio mesto, Fugue: Allegro con spirito

The opening Rondo had a lightness, but also some heft, and there was a lot of variation in the piece. The second had a calm beginning that was gentle but not somber; however, it did not hold my interest as well as the first. It did, though, explore depths that I don’t usually associate with Mozart and was less predictable than I expected.

The Beethoven sonata had wide-ranging themes and used various styles of composition including bursts of power. With its chorale-like opening that then expanded, it felt meditative, even in the faster sections. In general, it was well contained, never getting away from the pianist (though I think there were a few fingering flubs).

The first of the Brahms pieces was pleasant, with harmonies that were deeper and steeped in the Romantic era. The second was gentle and fuller while the third had an explosive opening followed by a contrasting section and was grander than the first capriccio. The last reminded me of a song, at least in the opening, and then moved on to different sections that didn’t quite mesh together, for me, finishing with a gentle ending.

The Liszt waltz was playful and segmented, with a very odd ending. I got the feeling of a soirée or parlor piece as opposed to a more formal composition. The etude that followed had more of the pianistic fireworks I associate with Liszt and was much more fully realized than the waltz was.

Finally, the Barber sonata was totally new to me—modern sounding but with a form that I could follow. My notes include: “a bit of bombast, but to what purpose?” The second movement had a light feel, with repeated motifs, almost like a music box gone awry. The third was slow and fairly mesmerizing, and felt slightly adrift with modern, but pleasing, phrases. It built into a louder section then returned to quietude. The fugue opened with an angular, rhythmic theme that then seemed to splinter a bit. I didn’t really sense a lot of fugue-like phrases. All in all, I enjoyed the piece and might even try to seek out a recording in order to give it a second listen.

As an encore, Mr. Bradham played Chopin’s E Minor Prelude, an absolutely haunting way to end the afternoon.

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New York Repertory Orchestra (10/19/13)

As the program notes say, NYRO is NYC’s leading all-volunteer orchestra, made up of professional and amateur musicians. I have always found their playing to be of a very high caliber and Saturday night was no exception. Also of interest to me is the fact that they play repertory that is not so well known. Here’s the program:

Památník Lidicím (Memorial to Lidice) (1943), Bohuslav Martinu
(1890–1959)

Cello Concerto No. 2 in D Major (1783), I. Allegro moderato; II. Adagio;
III. Rondo: Allegro, Franz Joseph Haydn (1732–1809)

Symphony No. 2 in B-flat, Op. 57 (1903), I. Exrêmement lent – Trés vif;
II. Modérément lent; III. Modéré; IV. Lent – Modéré et solennel – Assez vif, Vincent d’Indy (1851–1931)

The backstory on the Martinu is that on a night in 1942, as a result of a Nazi massacre, the village of Lidice, Czechoslovakia, ceased to exist. Appropriately, the music was somber and bleak, yet still pretty. The bass drum and tympani were heard to good effect—not ominous, exactly—quietly commenting on what has passed.

The Haydn was a complete turnaround. The cello soloist, Kasja William-Olsson, played very well throughout. The opening was easygoing and light, but the acoustics in the Church of St. Mary the Virgin reverberate a great deal so as to create balance problems from time to time. I was aware of a couple of very minor intonation mismatches between the soloist and orchestra, which may have been due to the acoustics. The second movement had a gentle tempo and featured the cello front and center very well. Ms. Olsson had a nice way of sending the solo line back into the orchestra—this worked better in the second movement than in the first. While both movements had cadenzas (a showy solo for the featured player toward the end of the movement), I also preferred the second to the first. The closing Rondo was pleasant, though there were still minor balance and tempo issues, once again due to the acoustics.

In general, the d’Indy had a fresh, modern, and full style that seemed to give compositional nods to the music of César Franck and Camille Saint-Saëns. The first movement had an almost cinematic quality, with broad strokes. It meandered a bit, but had a strong finish. The second movement had slightly more open writing, with individual lines featured, still maintaining a feeling of fullness. While pleasant, it was not really compelling. Movement three had a lilting opening yet still failed to draw me in. And the fourth movement was well constructed, technically, unfortunately without a real payoff.

Hearing music of different composers is a good thing, and I’m glad I got to hear d’Indy. I think I’d rather hear something different next time. Some more Martinu would be nice, too. Papa Haydn I’m happy to hear any time. Thank you, NYRO, for broadening my (and NYC’s) horizons.

ConcertMeister

Brooklyn, the Bronx and, yes, Queens—OHNY

October 12 and 13 were this year’s dates for Open House New York, and I was determined to be less Manhattan-centric. Open House New York is when various architectural gems and historic places are open to the public. Beginning with last year (I think that was the first), some sites required a reservation and a $5.00 fee. I avoided those.

My first site of the weekend was the Edgar Allan Poe Cottage in the Bronx. Built about 1812, Poe lived there from 1846 to 1849, and wrote Annabel Lee, Ulalume, and The Bells there. (Keeping time, time, time in a sort of Runic* rhyme that so musically wells from ... the bells ... .) According to the brief video I saw there, a large bell at what is now known as Fordham University was the inspiration for The Bells.

My next stop was the Fort Tryon Cottage in upper Manhattan. It was the gatekeeper’s cottage for the C.K.G. Billings estate. Billings had a very large stable on the estate, and managed to build a winding trail down to the Hudson River. The trail used bricks with beveled edges on all sides, in order to allow the horses to gain traction on the steep ascent. This cottage dated from 1903. Both cottages are quite small compared to housing in this day and age.

After an architectural respite, where I saw the 1925 version of the silent film The Phantom of the Opera, I zipped down to Greenwich Village to take in the Jefferson Market Library and its winding tower staircase. Alas, when I got there, they had just announced that the people who were already on the line would be the last ones to make the climb. Shoot. Well, maybe – next year!

Sunday’s adventure started in Brooklyn, with the City Reliquary—a small, quirky museum with lots of New York-iana, including different types of granite and schist that form the bedrock of NYC, plus lots of Statue of Liberty items, World’s Fair items, subway items (including a door!), etc. It was an OK experience, but I’m glad I got to see it for free.

A short subway ride took me to mid-Manhattan and a tour of Central Synagogue, at Lexington Avenue and 55th Street. It’s absolutely gorgeous inside—after a fire in 1998, the building was restored to its original 1872 glory, based on plans of Henry Fernbach, the original architect.

After a mini-battle trying to cross Fifth Avenue (yet another parade on Fifth, with limited access to crossing), I spent a few minutes strolling through Fifth Avenue Presbyterian Church. There was conflicting information about when a tour, including the organ, would be occurring, so I just did a cursory walkthrough.

A subway and bus combo (there was no #7 train service on the weekend) got me to the Lewis H. Latimer house in Flushing, Queens. This is an 1880s Queen Anne–style wooden house. Latimer was the son of slaves who fled Virginia (Norfolk, unfortunately) and ended up in the Boston area. Mr. Latimer was a self-taught mechanical draftsman and worked with Alexander Graham Bell and Thomas Edison. He was involved in the development of the telephone and inventing carbon filaments, to extend the useful life of incandescent bulbs. He was a highly celebrated African American electrical pioneer. He lived in the house, that is now an NYC landmark, from 1903 until his death in 1928.

On the way back to the bus, I caught a glimpse of a very nice looking building that turned out to be Flushing Town Hall, which is now a performing arts venue. And I caught the last day of an art exhibit there and saw a collage installation dealing with the life of Louis Armstrong.

So, no concerts, but definitely lots of culture during OHNY weekend.

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*Info upon request

Klezmer Quartet (10/6/13)

Golly, how to explain klezmer? It has its roots in Jewish folk music—Russian, Eastern European, etc. Think “Hava Nagila,” working up to a whirling-dervish tempo. This concert was titled David Krakauer’s Acoustic Klezmer Quartet, with David Krakauer, clarinet, Will Holshouser, accordion, Nicki Parrott, bass, and Michael Sarin, drums, and was part of the Carnegie Hall Neighborhood Concert program. The songs were all announced from the stage, so I may not get them exactly right.

The opener was called “The Street Song,” and was a traditional piece. It started with the string bass (amplified) playing what could have seemed like a dirge, but then the piece built in intensity, volume, and complexity, with a structure similar to that in some jazz arrangements. This was followed by a piece that combined old and new—
a traditional tune that was then continued into a newer section composed by
Mr. Krakauer. The clarinet playing was very energetic and the bass player actually danced a bit with her instrument. Once again, similar to jazz, there was an extended bass solo.

“The Dusky Bulgar,” composed by Mr. Holshouer, dealt with identity exploration and was a bit darker and ever so slightly more downbeat, though still very enjoyable. This was followed by “The Gypsy Bulgar,” with a sort of walking ragtime feel, swinging into jazz, a short waltz/dance feel—the rhythms seemed very straightforward, but then you go, “Whoa! There are really intricate things going on here,” with lots of pitch bending, higher-range clarinet playing, and the audience clapping along. Sort of like a Jewish wedding.

While the music was interesting, there was also a sameness to it that didn’t quite appeal to me. “Moldavian Voyage” had the clarinet playing in a lower register that I found very pleasing. Another piece written by Mr. Krakauer was composed for his grandfather from Lemberg (now Lvov, Ukraine). To me, it seemed as though it shifted between a nice sweet situation, to a darker situation, brought on by a remembered history—then shifting to one last high-range shriek of the clarinet before returning to the remembered sweetness. That was the feeling it evoked in me.

Throughout, all four players were just great, and all of them were featured at one time or another, once again hearkening back to jazz traditions. And the audience response was very enthusiastic. An encore (no title announced) showcased a technique called “circular breathing,” where the clarinetist plays a continuous tone by breathing in through his nose while pushing air out through his mouth, using air that is stored in his cheeks. It’s an impressive thing to see and hear and the audience ate it up. I enjoyed the concert a lot, but just wished for a little more variety—maybe that’s just the nature of klezmer.

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Songbook in a New Season (9/30/13)

Songbook, as I need to remind myself to remind you from time to time, is a program that highlights the work of up and coming composers and lyricists or, as in this particular case, new work from already established composers and lyricists. The featured duo on Monday evening was Joshua Salzman and Ryan Cunningham, featuring selections from The Legend of New York. On hand were five principals and an ensemble of ten vocalists, with Mr. Cunningham (I hope I got that right) serving as narrator.

The gist of the plot of the morality play is that Abe, a disillusioned New Yorker, is saddled with the job of finding three worthy souls in order to save New York from destruction (haggling was involved). The Angel of the Waters, a wisecracking guardian angel, is the one who sets him on his quest. So Abe has to present the three worthies at the top of the city within a prescribed time frame. Oh, yeah. There will also be an Act of God thrown in as a monkey wrench. The Act of God turns out to be the 1977 New York City blackout. This is important, as it flavors some of the compositional styles. The opening number had real harmony! from the ensemble members, with the Angel laying out in no uncertain terms “That’s New York.”

We then hear “Heavenly House on a Hill,” sung by Abe (with his wife, Sarah). This was a wishful, seeing-the-positive-side-of-things song, with some nice humor and a good setting of sung speech. “Get Gone” and “Cloud 54” were set clearly in the rock genre, which makes perfect sense, since they’re set in and around Studio 54 in 1977. “Not for You” was a Disco Diva–style number that definitely channeled “I Will Survive.” And—end Act I.

Act II finds Abe trekking with the three worthy souls up to Inwood Park, the top of New York City. Then he learns that the Guardian Angel really meant the top of the World Trade Center. At that point, the blackout hits, and they need to get all the way downtown and to the top of the Towers. A rioter leads the ensemble in “Get a Load of This,” which neatly outlines the fears and unpredictability of the blackout. Between dealing with the rioters and a mysterious man, one of the worthies is shot and killed. With only two worthy souls delivered, the Angel says, “No deal.”

Sarah sings a rather pleasant ballad, “Him,” and Abe’s brother and the Disco Diva (the other two worthies) decide to back out and try their luck with NYC once the deal with the Guardian Angel is off. Abe is offered a chance to be swept up to heaven with Sarah, but he too decides to stick with NYC, in the power ballad “The Sun Rises Again.” And “Heaven Can Wait,” a slightly lightweight duet, in my consideration, has Abe and Sarah committed to New York, come what may.

As mentioned earlier, these writers are seasoned a bit more than some others I’ve seen and heard in this ongoing series. They’ve already had one Off-Broadway show produced, I Love You Because, and another musical, Next Thing You Know, has also been produced elsewhere. The music for The Legend of New York was, for the most part, very well conceived and performed. I can see this show having a future life.

A special shout out goes to John Znidarsic, Producer/Director of the series (Monday evening began the 23rd season) and another shout out to Cheryl D. Raymond, Manager Public Programs and Special Events at the New York Public Library for the Performing Arts.

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Subway Series (9/24/13)

Going all athletic on us, Meister? Not in the least. This Subway Series is one concert in each of the five boroughs, performed by members of the St. Luke’s Chamber Ensemble. The Ensemble forms the core of the Orchestra of St. Luke’s. This year’s program (and I believe it was the 10th annual—how could I have missed this for nine years?) was titled Brass Gardens. I caught the quintet at their Bryant Park concert in Manhattan after work on a beautiful early-autumn evening. It was also a food drive, and since I had just bought some cheese-filled spinach tortellini, I donated the box to the food drive.TMI? On to the music, then.

The performers were Carl Albach and John Dent, trumpets; Patrick Pridemore, French horn; Michael Powell, trombone; and John Rojak, bass trombone.

The program:
Grand Valley Fanfare, Eric Ewazen (b. 1954)
Three Venetian Canzoni (ed. Ray Mase): Canzon 19, Gioseffo Guami (1540–1611); Ricercar del sesto tuono, Andrea Gabrielli (1520–1586); and Canzon 22, Bastian Chilese (b. ca. 1600)
Colchester Fantasy, Ewazen
Elizabethan Consort Music (ed. Mase)
West Side Story Suite, Leonard Bernstein (ed. Jack Gale): Tonight, Maria, I Feel Pretty, Somewhere, and America

The opening fanfare was just that—a brassy, sassy, very pleasant fanfare in a clean style, but with some modern (yet listenable) harmonies. The Venetian Canzoni had nicely shaped dynamics with clean, clear lines in the Guami. The Gabrielli was a quartet (no French horn) with both trumpeters switching out to flugelhorns. The Chilese was both song-like and fugue-like.

Two (of four) movements (all named for pubs) were played from the Colchester Fantasy. The Rose and Crown had a dirge-like opening followed by a brisker section with, once again, modern writing, but still musical and not too far out there, and then a return to the dark chords of the opening. The Red Lion chugged along with a lot of forward movement, even in its slower middle section, and ended with calmer chords.

The Consort Music was arranged for the brass from what originally would have been a consort of viols. Eight dances were listed in the program, but I’m not sure all eight were played. A partial list of composers includes Thomas Morley, Thomas Weelkes, and John Dowland. All of the pieces were interesting examples of what I think of when I think of Elizabethan courtly dances. Some were bright and brisk while others were slightly somber.

West Side Story did not fare quite as well as some of the other arrangements. With only a quintet, some of the lines seemed a bit thin and shallow. Tonight had a couple of bobbles, while Maria had some writing for the lower instruments that was muddy at times. The low writing worked perfectly in I Feel Pretty, though, when the main theme was given to the bass trombone—witty and effective. Somewhere wants to be shimmery, and that’s somewhat hard to pull off outdoors with a brass quintet. America finished the suite off with a bang. Perhaps the familiarity of the music worked against it. I wanted it to be super, but it just didn’t quite make it there for me. YMMV.

A nice Scott Joplin rag, Easy Winners, was played as an encore. I enjoyed it, although the tempo was a little too brisk for my taste. All in all, a very enjoyable evening of brass music. I look forward to next year’s musical Subway Series.

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Three for Three—Sort of (9/22/13)

A breezy Sunday afternoon found me in Riverside Park. Not exactly a new venue, as I believe I heard The Main Squeeze, an All-Girl Accordion Orchestra, there a couple of summers ago. But that was in the West 70s while Sunday found me at West 116th Street for The Overlook Concerts series. The Manhattan School Jazz Quintet, led by Isaac Kaplan, put on a fun afternoon of jazz and popular music standards. We heard Isaac Kaplan, trombone; Jonathan Ragonese, soprano saxophone, Kevin Bernstein, piano; Ethan O’Reilly, double bass; and Joseph Peri, drums.

Here’s the program: All the Things You Are, Kern/Hammerstein; How High the Moon, Lewis/Hamilton; Black Orpheus, Bonfa/Maria; On the Sunny Side of the Street, McHugh/Fields; These Foolish Things, Strachey/Maschwitz; A Night in Tunisia, Gillespie; and Things Ain’t What They Used to Be, Ellington.

I don’t know who did the arrangements but I’d be surprised if Mr. Kaplan didn’t at least have a hand in them. As an overview, in standard jazz format, every player gets a crack at the main tune (or a variation on it), and that was the case here. Both of the first tunes carried that format through, and the arrangements were both a little too much the same and a little too long for my taste.

In Black Orpheus, the piano, bass, and drums set an exotic mood and then the trombone laid out the tune. After another piano/bass/drums interlude, the sax stepped in working around the tune as opposed to giving us the straightforward melody. It was a nice arrangement.

These Foolish Things was a little less familiar to me, though I recognized portions of the melody. I like the fact that the lyricists’ names were included, even though there was nobody singing them; that might have been a nice touch. Beautiful Love had a calm ballad-esque feel to it.

A Night in Tunisia took us into more of a bebop jazz style, in contrast to the earlier standards with jazz applied to them. It was bebop—but not too frantic, which is just fine by me. The sax really got a chance to wail, and this (and the Ellington) felt like a more structured arrangement. Or maybe they were just better-structured jazz tunes.

All five of the guys, students and/or recent graduates of the Manhattan School of Music, played well and seemed to be very comfortable playing together and throwing cues back and forth.

There are two more concerts in the series—French Cookin’ Blues Band and the Manhattan Wind Ensemble. I’ll keep an eye on the weather (these are outdoor concerts) but I’m intrigued by a 50-piece wind ensemble. Still, I’m also in search of new venues. Do I want to repeat right away? Tune in ...

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New Venue, II – (9/20/13)

Friday evening found me in the Bohemian National Hall at Czech Center NY for a New Chamber Ballet program, Miro Magloire, choreographer and director, with live music provided by The Argento Ensemble, Michel Galante, conductor. I got my free ticket through the auspices of the Austrian Cultural Forum New York, so even though there was not a lot of information available ahead of time, I was fairly sure that the music, at least, would lean toward the avant-garde. I was right. The choreography was very much of the avant-garde, as well.

Composers included Georg Friedrich Haas, Anton Webern, Nina C. Young, Michel Galante, Arthur Kampela, and Beat Furrer; three of the composers were at the performance. The ballets/dances themselves, for five female dancers in various combinations of three, two, five, and one solo (though that was more like a duet, as it included a soprano who only started singing after she had shadowed the dance soloist for a while), were Broken Chains, Echoes, Come Closer, Synch, Fiesta, and Between Us the Night. Not that I made any huge connections between the titles and the pieces themselves.

All five of the dancers were just fine and seemed to have a pretty good grasp of
Mr. Magloire’s style, which looked to me like poses, contortions, unison movements, contrasting movements, etc. They performed barefoot in some pieces, and en pointe in some others. In Echoes, set to Webern’s Four Pieces for Violin and Piano op. 7, all of the dancing occurred in silence, with the four short pieces in between. The choreographer actually commented on that, but it still did not make a lot of sense to me.

In a strange bit of stage management and planning, there was often “dead air” between the pieces. But that led to an interesting backstory to Ms. Young’s composition, Tethered Within (the music for Come Closer). She was commissioned to write a piece for eight musicians, with the imposed restriction that she had to write it in just two weeks. I liked the piece. She also commented on what it was like to see her vision of her own piece reinterpreted by a choreographer. As one of our hosts said, “You just can’t get that from Mozart or Beethoven!”

I’m certainly glad I went, and I do like the idea of hearing live music by living composers, but I’ll be sure to pick and choose carefully just how much avant-garde programming I’ll follow in the future. For me, a little goes a long way. Still, it was one more new venue for the new season—a ballroom in the Czech Center in the East 70s.

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New Season, New Venues

Sunday afternoon found yours truly at the Schomburg Center up on 135th Street; it’s part of the New York Public Library system. The program, appropriately on the 50th anniversary, to the day, of the Birmingham, AL, church bombing, was “Songs of Freedom.” Performers included Jeremiah Hosea, Jerome Jordan, KimberlyNichole, Martha Redbone, and Tamar-kali as singers, with Messrs. Hosea and Jordan also playing guitar from time to time. Latasha N. Nevada Diggs provided oratory for a few songs as well as some nice tambourining (is so a word, I just used it!). Janelle Reichman came on later in the program for a saxophone solo (with keyboards, unfortunately I couldn’t get the keyboardist’s name), and there was also a drum set onstage. From the outset, the performers let us know that this was a community event. If a song title, listed on a projection slide, said Leader, we were encouraged to join in singing; if it said Soloist, the named performer would sing through alone, though this got a little fuzzy at times.

So, to the songs themselves. We heard/sang This Little Light of Mine, Woke Up This Morning with My Mind Stayed on Freedom (with some wild hand-clapping rhythm accompaniment), I’m on My Way to Freedom Land, Which Side Are You On?, Freedom Is a Constant Struggle/Letter from a Birmingham Jail (the second portion orated and linked to the song), In the Mississippi River, We Shall Not Be Moved, Come By Here (Kum-ba-yah—that had never occurred to me before), The Ballad of Medgar Evers, A Change Is Gonna Come (powerfully sung by Mr. Jordan), Mississippi Goddam (a Nina Simone song worked over by KimberlyNichole), Alabama (the saxophone solo), Keep on Pushin’ (a little on the weak side, with Mr. Hosea, a bass, singing in a falsetto—always difficult to bring off, especially as there were lots of instruments playing by then, so lyrics tended to get lost), Freedom Highway, Been in the Storm So Long/Fannie Lou Hamer’s Testimony (song and oratory, very nicely done by
Tamar-kali and Ms. Diggs), Will the Circle Be Unbroken, Eyes on the Prize, And Still I Rise (oration, with taped spoken loops added in electronically), finishing with We Shall Overcome.

All in all, the performances were quite good. Some of the harmonies were a bit rudimentary, but that’s to be expected in folk/freedom/protest songs. The meaning trumps the method sometimes. Some of the songs were completely unknown to me, some were familiar, and some I knew pretty well. The message was driven home without going over the top. And the message is just as important now as it was 50 years ago when those four young girls were murdered in an Alabama church.

So, this was a new type of concert for me in a new venue for me. I’m sure I’ll be revisiting some of my usual haunts during this new concert season, but I’ll also be on the lookout to broaden my geographic horizons.

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Violin, and Piano, and Violin and Piano (9/7/13)

Saturday’s Bargemusic concert was attended by approximately 60 people—the largest audience I’ve seen there. Mark Peskanov started us off with two movements from the Sonata No. 1 in G minor, BWV 1001 for solo violin, by J.S. Bach. The Adagio was fairly gentle and played very well. The Fuga (Allegro) followed, including finger work fireworks. He then switched gears and played the Partita #3 (also for solo violin), which was in the form of a waltz. He seems very comfortable playing sans accompaniment.

He then introduced pianist Olga Vinokur, who treated us to some solo piano music by Russian composers. She started with four pieces by Alexander Scriabin—I’m not sure whether they were related pieces or four movements from a single work. I am mostly familiar with Scriabin from his highly atonal works, but these were much more lyrical and reminiscent of Chopin’s style of composition. The first piece was calm and fairly lush, with what seemed to be a little more structure than some of the French Romantic/Impressionist styles. The next piece had rippling arpeggios in the left hand and also in some of the right hand lines and phrases, with a brighter tempo and intensity of volume. The third piece opened with some real bombast, followed by a calming section. The final piece had a very rapid tempo and used fiery finger work.

She followed the Scriabin with a movement from Sergei Rachmaninoff’s Moment Musicaux. It opened with repetitive figures in the bass line with block chords in the phrases above, from the right hand, followed by more of the rippling writing, as heard in the Scriabin. It had a nice overall shape with a gentle section, then fuller, and a return to a gentle ending.

Ms. Vinokur and Mr. Peskanov then joined forces in the Violin Sonata No. 8, Opus 30, No. 3, by Ludwig van Beethoven. The first movement was bright and sunny, with a few flourishes of drama thrown in for good measure. It had quite a brisk tempo with some driving accompaniment in the piano writing. The second movement, fashioned as a minuet, had song-like (cantabile) writing for the violin with gentler, yet still driving, accompaniment. A brief little “oom-pah-pah” section followed, concluding with a nice interplay of melody in the piano with a countermelody from the violin. The final movement had a very, very brisk opening—a perpetual motion feeling, especially in the piano—that kept the drive going, then a race to the finish. This was a very fun piece in a very fine performance.

These two obviously like performing together, and it shows. Bargemusic is a great standby for a Saturday afternoon culture fix.

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I Beg Your Pardon (8/31/13)

On Saturday, I attended part of the 2013 Harlem Green Garden Tour. Did I mention it was free? It was an all-day affair but I joined in at the Harlem Rose Garden at 6 East 129th Street. But Meister, this doesn’t sound like a concert. Not exactly—but there was harmony in the various layouts of the community gardens, and that harmony works, for me, for this tour to be included as a blog post.

The tour was a blast. Community gardens are vacant lots that have been reclaimed by community organizations and turned into gardens—some just for flowers, some with paths, a bridge here or there, and others for flowers and vegetables. Of the 13 in total, I saw the aforementioned Harlem Rose Garden, the West 132nd Street Garden, Margrichante Community Garden, Success Garden/Harlem Grown, the Morris-Jumel Community Garden, the Convent Avenue Garden, and the William B. Harris Garden. I traveled from East 129th Street to as far north as West 162nd Street, ending up at West 153rd Street and St. Nicholas Avenue. They even had a barbecue waiting for us!

I walked the tour, with the exception of the W. 134th St. to W. 162nd St. leg. But there was a bus providing transportation from stop to stop for all of the other gardens. The gardens that made the greatest impressions on me were the Rose Garden, Margrichante, and Success Garden/Harlem Grown. The Rose Garden impressed because of its calming nature. Margrichante was interesting because of its communal nature. There are 25 individual plots within the garden, with one person responsible for his or her own plot. There’s also a waiting list of 25 people. I saw cucumbers, Swiss chard, collard greens, spinach, cabbage, pole beans, tomatoes-tomahtoes, green and purple basil, etc. And eggplant. I can’t remember for sure but I think this was the first time I’d ever seen eggplant on the vine. The secretary of Margrichante was there and even provided mint tea, rosemary lemonade, and basil lemonade, using herbs from that very garden.

Harlem Success Garden (as I found it listed on the Web) is a community garden that is also associated with P.S. 175. So, here’s the deal—the students from the school across the street come over to the garden. There’s a seating area where the lesson of the day takes place. Then the children have a hands-on lesson where they do the actual gardening. And here’s the best part—the produce they harvest goes home with them, with recipes provided by one of the teacher/gardeners. How cool is that?

The community garden program gets a big green thumbs-up from me. This was the eighth annual garden tour, and I’m going to be sure to keep my eyes open for the ninth, next year. Just one of the little wonders in this big city. Thank you, community garden volunteers, and thank you, Harlem Green Garden Tour!

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Naumburg Concerts—Chamber Music Society of Lincoln Center (8/21/13)

Well, that’s the good news and the bad news. CMS is a great organization. Chamber music out of doors is not such a great idea, in my opinion. Here’s the program:

Quartet in D Major for Flute, Violin, Viola, and Cello, K. 285 (1778),
1. Allegro, 2. Adagio, 3. Rondo, Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart (1756–91); Serenade in D Major for Flute, Violin, and Viola, Op. 25 (1801), 1. Entrata: Allegro, 2. Tempo ordinario d’un menuetto, 3. Allegro molto, 4. Andante con variazioni, 5. Allegro scherzando e vivace, 6. Adagio—Allegro vivace e disinvolto, Ludwig van Beethoven (1770–1827); and Quintet in A Major for Piano, Two Violins, Viola, and Cello, B. 155, Op. 81 (1887), 1. Allegro, ma non tanto, 2. Dumka: Andante con moto, 3. Scherzo: Furiant, molto vivace, Finale: Allegro, Antonín Dvorák (1841–1904).

The players were Wu Han, piano; Kristin Lee, violin; Sean Lee, violin; Daniel Phillips, viola; David Finckel, cello; and Tara Helen O’Connor, flute. For those of you keeping score, it was announced from the stage that Ms. Han and Mr. Finckel are married to each other, Ms. O’Connor and Mr. Phillips are married to each other, and Ms. Lee and Mr. Lee are not married to each other. Whew!

The Mozart began with pleasant banter back and forth, with certain phrases repeated. The second movement featured the flute line playing against pizzicato (plucked) strings from the violin and viola. The ending movement was fuller in sound, with a quicker tempo. It was typical Mozart, to my ears—almost the equivalent of Classical easy-listening music. I acknowledge Mozart’s genius; I’m just not convinced that every note is genius.

The Beethoven began with a jaunty flavor, with the second movement feeling like a gentle dance, punctuated every once in a while with percussive phrases, then back to the dance. The third movement was very brief, with a driving rhythm, though not frantic. The fourth movement was calm, with brighter tempos for the variations—and each player got a chance to shine. The fifth movement was very brief, but very bright. The last movement finished very strongly.

After intermission, jotting down anything was impossible in the dark. From memory, the Dvorák was richer, fuller, and really worthwhile to be hearing. The fact that that there was piano plus four stringed instruments really helped with volume, in terms of chamber music being played out of doors. On the good side, we learned from the stage that there will be five Naumburg concerts next year. The Chamber Music Society of Lincoln Center will be part of the series for the next three years. My suggestion would be for quintets or larger groups—trios and quartets are a little thin, from an audience standpoint.

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Bargemusic Again (8/17/13)

On Saturday, I attended a Bargemusic concert of solo piano music played by
Olga Vinokur. As always, the program was announced from the stage. Ms. Vinokur is rather soft spoken, so I may have missed, or misheard, some of the works. She began with a Sonata in D Major, by Domenico Scarlatti, which was followed by three pieces by Frédéric Chopin—a Nocturne, an Impromptu, and a Mazurka. Or was it a Fantaisie? I’m just not sure. Next up were movements #3 and #4 from Sergei Rachmaninoff’s Moments Musicaux and his Etude in g minor. Rounding out the program were Earl Wild’s transcriptions of Gershwin’s The Man I Love and I Got Rhythm.

I have heard Ms. Vinokur on several occasions and it is always a pleasure to hear her perform. The Scarlatti sonata was bright and charming, with clean lines and clean, crisp playing. Chopin’s Nocturne, while gentle, still had some build to it in terms of both volume and intensity. The Impromptu featured flying fingers, but with a controlled energy. There was a contrasting section, as well, that still featured very busy fingerwork. The Mazurka (Fantaisie?) had a bit of a martial feel to it. With all of the filigree musical lines, it was definitely Chopin, and it was more extensive than the first two of his pieces.

Rachmaninoff’s Moments Musicaux had thicker, denser chords with a darker mood for the opening, followed by a marching bass line. There was a feeling of expansive expression that made me think of angst, or maybe ardor? There were darkly pretty musical lines and ideas conveyed through the musical lines. Moment #4 was energized but still with an undertone of bleakness, almost. Maybe a sense of loss? This was a very moving composition and performance. The Etude continued in a dark manner but it made me think more of a sense of longing.

The Earl Wild transcriptions of Gershwin were, if I’m remembering correctly, improvisations that he was well known for—dazzling, in the style of Liszt—that he would play as entertainments. Once again, if I’m remembering correctly, he was urged to write them down, and he eventually did. It’s not quite jazz, though it certainly has jazz elements. It’s not really parody, since it’s an intriguing, classical-flavored metamorphosis of the familiar Gershwin tunes. It’s fun music, and it capped off a great afternoon of piano performance at Bargemusic once again.

This might have been my first August concert at the Barge, as I’m usually too tuckered out after volunteering for Summer Streets*. I did volunteer for full shifts the first two Saturdays this year, but only for the morning shift on the 17th. The concert attendance was higher than others I’ve been to at tha Barge. It’s a great freebie in NYC—one that I’m glad to attend whenever I can.

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*Just ask.

The Knights (7/30/13)

Here is the program for the third concert in the Naumburg Orchestral Concerts series in Central Park. Sinfonia in C Major, Wq. 182, No. 3 (1773), Carl Philipp Emanuel Bach (1714–1788); Concerto in D (1946), 1. Vivace, 2. Arioso: Andantino, 3. Rondo: Allegro, Igor Stravinsky (1882–1971); Concerto for Oboe & Violin in C minor, BWV 1060 (1733), 1. Allegro, 2. Adagio, 3. Allegro, Johann Sebastian Bach (1685–1750); Serenade for Tenor, Horn and Strings (1943), Benjamin Britten
(1913–1976); and Chaconne (World Premiere) 2013), The Knights. As you can see, this was a very varied program.

The program was celebrating the concerto grosso form—a soloist (or small group) contrasted with a larger group of players—according to an announcement from the stage. This was certainly the case for the J. S. Bach and the Britten but I didn’t see it as much in the C. P. E. Bach or the Stravinsky. And Chaconne was its own format altogether.

The C. P. E. Bach, played without a conductor (the only piece with a conductor (Eric Jacobsen) was the Britten), had a lively opening, a contrasting calm section, a dance-like section with variations, and a somewhat abrupt ending. The Stravinsky had spiky rhythms but they weren’t over the top. There was a sweetness to the musical lines and, toward the end, a rocking chair–type rhythm. All in all, extremely accessible Stravinsky. Papa Bach’s concerto had a nicely played first movement that includes a very familiar opening.

http://tinyurl.com/lhkoyz3 (Well, phooey. Link doesn't work. Yahoo/Google it on your own.)

The soloists, Adam Hollander, oboe, and Johnny Gandelsman, violin, were showcased quite well as they opened the second movement, which was perfect for the sylvan setting of the park. The third movement had a forward-moving rhythm and a quite brisk tempo. Almost as an exclamation point, as the concerto came to an end, the streetlamps in the park popped on.

Britten’s Serenade, with Nicholas Phan, tenor, and Michael P. Atkinson, French horn, began the second half of the concert. This was a slightly odd choice for such an open air setting, but it worked pretty well. Mr. Phan sang well and his diction was very good but the texts (including poetry by Tennyson, Blake, Keats, and Jonson) are a little hard follow. I had an advantage, as I had studied this work in college. There are some fiendish intervals written for the horn; even when they’re played well, the ear goes, “Huh?” There were, alas, a few bobbles. For me, the highlight of the piece was the “Dirge,” a four line repetitive stanza that builds in intensity from quiet to forceful to quiet again. The arc built by the two soloists and the orchestra was exactly what was called for.

The idea behind Chaconne, also called The Ground Beneath My Feet if I jotted that down correctly when it was announced from the stage, took a chaconne rhythm and was then built on by several members of the orchestra, all compiled into one piece. As a result, there were various styles juxtaposed rather incoherently. At one point, there was a Latin flair followed by a pseudo folk song-cum-hoedown where the audience was encouraged to clap along. That was just a little too much kitsch, even at a somewhat informal concert. Maybe it was just me.

At any rate, I’m awfully glad I got a second live hearing of the Britten on a perfect evening in New York City. (The previous Naumburg concert ended mid-concert due to a huge downpour.) One more concert to go in the series—let’s hope for good weather on August 21.

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Young Dancemakers Company (7/27/13)

This was a performance of choreography by and for teen dancers. The 18 dancers (well, 17 actually, one young lady was injured, but her choreography was still part of the show) were introduced via a Prologue performed to live percussion. Percussion featured strongly in the music for the other 11 pieces, as well.

The pieces were contemporary dance, with nods to classical ballet but with more emphasis on theater/street/hip-hop dance. All of the teens performed well, with high energy and a sense of style throughout the entire afternoon. There were several small group dances—two, three, or four dancers—with a couple of larger ensemble pieces, and the final work (excerpts from the Doug Elkins Repertory Project’s Scott Queen of Marys) used all 17 to round out the program.

A couple of the early works were somewhat predictable. Flow (to water sounds) had three dancers, well, flowing onto and off of the stage. And The Chase had three couples chasing each other, with (if I’m remembering correctly) the couples separating and morphing into different couples in the chase.

I especially liked The Kitchen Drawer, where a young lady straightened out a jumble of six dancers and got them lined up as two forks, two spoons, and two knives. Of course, they were quite happy to jumble themselves again and taunt and thwart her from time to time. Very enjoyable.

On a slightly more somber note, Justice Dream, in the printed program, but announced from the stage as Waiting for Change, recounted the death of Trayvon Martin. When the lights came up again after a brief blackout, there were five or six teens all wearing red hoodies. As the hoodies were removed one by one, we saw a fellow in jacket and tie, a couple of girls in nice, sensible dresses, another fellow in casual but nice clothes, and finally a teen in a T-shirt that read STUDENT BODY LEADER. These teens raised Trayvon and carried him offstage and this was followed by a keening duet representing, at least to me, Trayvon’s parents. It was an effective piece.

This five-week, intensive enrichment program for NYC high school students produced a fun afternoon of high-energy choreography and performances. All told, there have been and will be nine performances (I’m not sure if all performances have all the works that I saw), including a Gala Final Concert and Reception at Ailey Citigroup Theater on Saturday evening, Aug. 3. Congratulations to all!

ConcertMeister

Brecht in the Park (7/21/13) – A Brief Report

Free theater in Central Park! Even though it was a hot day, I decided to take in Elephant Run District’s presentation of three Bertolt Brecht one act plays – The Elephant Calf (1926), In Search of Justice (1938), and The Exception and the Rule (1929).

The outdoor staging had a playful quality to it, including limited use of masks and puppetry. From the little reading I did about Brecht after seeing the production, the director included hallmark devices such as adding snippets of songs, addressing the audience directly, and so forth. The thrust of all three one acts was slightly political as well as slightly absurd.

All six in the cast were effective in their characterizations and their realizations of the texts. As I see it, this was not great drama but a nice summer divertissement, a little on the quirky side. And the price was right. For any New York readers, there are two more performances, July 27 and 28.

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The Silent Clowns, Again (7/20/13)

Saturday’s selection of silents featured Edward Everett Horton in a short, Horse Shy (1928) and the feature, Helen’s Babies (1924). Oddly, I preferred the short over the feature.

In Horse Shy, Horton plays a hapless fellow invited to a fox hunt. We first meet him struggling to squeeze into his riding boots. Once he’s booted up, he realizes that his jodhpurs are on backwards. And his main problem? He really dislikes horses. In a bit of a running gag, horses seem to sense this and snap at him, chase him, and generally make his life miserable. On top of that, the daughter (Nita Cavalier) of the Colonel (who owns the estate where the hunt will take place) takes a shine to Horton. Then on top of that, a prankster has told her that Horton is quite the accomplished rider, so he is assigned Keno, the most spirited horse in the stable.

The horns are sounded and they’re off! Mayhem ensues—Keno is off like a rocket, Horton is thrown, he ends up remounted backwards, at one point he vaults over a wall only to land on a donkey going the other way, etc. A lot of the sight gags were truly laugh-out-loud funny. In the happy ending department, he gets the girl but not the fox. In fact he gets a skunk!

The program notes for Helen’s Babies point out that Horton had two famous leading ladies in this film—Baby Peggy, at the peak of her career, and Clara Bow, rapidly rising to stardom. The plot? Helen and her husband have the two best children in the world. Helen’s brother, a bachelor who doesn’t even like children (Horton), has written a very successful book on how to raise children. He’s coming for a visit, so Helen and her husband decide to take a brief getaway, knowing that their wonderful children will be in the capable hands of Horton.

Well, these kids are kids. They “help” their uncle by unpacking his suitcase and making a shambles of it. Shirt collars are mashed, straw hats are squashed, etc. He really has his hands full. Humorous bits. But some were more disturbing. At one point, after shaving, Horton gets distracted. Baby Peggy, wanting to be just like uncle, climbs on a stool, lathers her face, proceeds to unfold the straight razor, falls off of the stool and ends up with the razor perilously close to her face. I found this a little less than humorous. A neighbor (Ms. Bow) happens by, helps out with the two little girls, takes a shining to Horton and invites them to Sunday dinner. After a faux pas involving giving Ms. Bow a doll baby instead of flowers (Baby Peggy strikes again), everyone prepares to go in to dinner. Oops. The girls get distracted by a doggie, chase it down the lane, eventually ending up on railroad tracks—with a train approaching! When Horton and Bow realize the girls are gone, they set off in hot pursuit.

The little girls are rescued just in time and reunited with their parents who, as fate would have it, happened to be on the train. Helen is furious, but calms down when the little girls show how much they love their uncle. And Horton gets the girl! I didn’t find the gags all that funny in this one, and the plot seemed convoluted and not all that interesting to me.

As usual, the program notes, by Steve Massa, were nicely done and very interesting. The second of the curators, Bruce Lawton, ended up being the projectionist, and Ben Model, providing superb piano accompaniment, was a true joy. There are two more programs in the summer series.

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Bargemusic (7/13/13)

 Saturday afternoon’s concert was a flute, viola, harp trio—Brandon Patrick George, Andy Lin, and Meredith Clark, respectively. The concert opened with a Rondo-Menuet from Partita #3 by J.S. Bach for solo violin played, and very well played, by Mark Peskanov, Bargemusic’s Executive Director. These free Saturday concerts are family concerts, and there were quite a few children there, so the noise level in the audience was higher than usual.

The program, announced from the stage, was Elegiac Trio (1916), Sir Arnold Bax (1883–1953); Sonata for flute, viola and harp (1915), Claude Debussy (1862–1918); and Triolet (1989), Samuel Adler (1928–). All in all, three very different works.

Sir Arnold Bax was an English composer, and his work was gentle and graceful, with a touch of added strength, especially from the harp—a reminder that it can be quite percussive. It was nice, though it had a slightly rambling quality toward the end. Debussy’s sonata – Pastorale, Minuet, Allegro Moderato – began with shifting moods and somewhat more fragmented and short-ish lines and phrases. It was hard for me to sense the Minuet in the second movement. Debussy was stretching form, as well as tonality, too much. The final movement had an ostinato-like figure (a repeated rhythmic and musical phrase) from the harp, pizzicato (plucked) strings from the viola, and then a much spikier sound from all three instruments. Overall, it seemed to me that Debussy set out to be deliberately modern, presenting his music in a new and distinct style. It was a nice piece but I’m not sure I would seek out a second hearing. These were two very different trios from the same era.

If Debussy was aiming for modern, the Adler trio upped the ante. This music was truly modern, including dissonances and, at times, even disjointed phrases. All three artists played very well and seemed to approach the three different styles head on.

There was a fun Q&A at the end that included a demonstration of the three positions for each of the seven pedals on the harp. As Ms. Clark said, “Sometimes it seems like you’re tap dancing as well as using both hands on the strings!”

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River to River Festival (Mid-June–Mid-July)

 This was a free festival in lower Manhattan encompassing music, dance, and theater (some of it experimental). Not exactly my comfort zone. When I printed out their schedule, I highlighted five choices and made reservations for two of them. All performances were free, but some required reservations. I figured that if I actually made a reservation, I’d actually go. And it sort of worked. Of the five I highlighted, I ended up attending only two, and I canceled one reservation for July 9, the evening I went to the Naumburg concert and got drenched!

At any rate, the two performances I saw were indeed experimental in nature. So Percussion’s Where (we) Live had the percussion quartet joined by a guitarist, an accordionist, and a note giver. I’m not making this up, you know! The performance had percussion, songs, video installations, etc. The note giver would periodically get up from her computer keyboard and hand out slips of paper to various performers. They would then follow her instructions—sometimes leaving the room for a while; sometimes picking up a set of children’s bells, taking them to a new area of the performance space, and playing the bells while sitting on the floor; and sometimes just getting up and running in circles. I did not find the performance interesting or enjoyable. Several people got up and left early on, middle on, and later on. Since the performance space (an empty storefront at South Street Seaport) was bathed in daylight, I couldn’t bring myself to join them. If I could have slunk out in the dark, I probably would have.

As luck would have it, the other performance I saw was in the exact same space, though with a reconfigured staging and seating area. 600 Highwaymen’s This Great Country, from Death of a Salesman by Arthur Miller, was a modern, updating deconstruction/reconstruction of Salesman. It included choreographed movements that were not quite dance, a declamatory style of acting, at least a half dozen actors assuming the role of Willy at various times (adults, children, males, females) as well as young actors playing the young counterparts of the main actors portraying Willy’s sons, Biff and Happy. To me, it was a performance that held some interest. In this case, some equaled not very much.

At least I experimented with experimental. I’ll try to choose more carefully, if I commit to R2R in 2014.

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Triple Bill (7/6/13)

Today’s program of silent films was dedicated to Forgotten Funny People. It must be true, because I had heard of none of them—Marcel Perez, Alice Howell, and Douglas MacLean. Ring a bell, anyone? Right.

The first short, Sweet Daddy (1921), starring Marcel Perez, was really quite amusing. He was a milquetoast-ish husband literally ball-and-chained in the kitchen. In fact, his wife knocked him out of the window (twice!) and he was only saved by the chain around his neck. When his dictator-like wifey sent him out shopping (her “Pick-a-little, Talk-a-little” friends were coming over for lunch), he managed to meet a showgirl, lose money and find money (hey, it’s slapstick comedy!) take her to a fine restaurant and almost be found out by wifey and her cronies. He feigns injury (showgirl plays a nurse, onstage) and mayhem ensues getting him home. While he’s at home, there is much hopping about (he’s bandaged head to toe), and mayhem. The ending was a bit of a ???, as he jumps out of the kitchen window using an umbrella as a parachute.

Under a Spell (1925 (1924 on the cover of the printed program)) starred Alice Howell, an actress who created a ditzy-dame character. As a side note, in real life, Alice Howell plowed her earnings into California real estate and comfortably managed her lucrative holdings until her death in 1961. But I digress.

Our heroine’s husband falls asleep downstairs. A cross-dressing bandit (I’m not making this up, you know!) sneaks in, steals the husband’s wallet, and slops her dripper—er, leaves a shoe behind. Wifey finds it and is furious and hires a hypnotist to get to the truth. The mesmerist hypnotizes hubby into thinking he’s a monkey. The hypnotist gets boinged! (hello, these are silent film comedies!) before he can break the spell, hubby (as monkey) escapes, butler (yes, wifey and hubby can afford a butler) hires a gorilla suit, and butler entices hubby back to the family home. The hypnotist eventually returns hubby as hubby, the police subdue and arrest the “Bobbed-Hair-Bandit,” wifey realizes her mistake, and THE END.

The feature was One a Minute (1921), starring Douglas MacLean. Apparently he was a light comedy star/leading man that several high-powered actresses (Alice Brady, Mary Pickford, and Vivian Martin) liked to have in their films. I don’t particularly see the “handsome leading man” qualities, but maybe that’s why the actresses liked him?

At any rate, in One a Minute, Mr. MacLean was a recent law school graduate returning to Centerville. On the train was a young girl (Marian DeBeck) also returning to Centerville! After some comical confusion regarding de-training, our hero goes to the pharmacy started by his father—he’s expected to take over. Across the street is a new chain store pharmacy, owned by (oops!) the young girl’s father. Our hero decides to “create” the all-curing panacea that his father was always searching for. He creates a concoction out of four hum-drum ingredients, hoping that the concoction will work—or at least give the impression of working. Lo and behold! everyone who uses the powder is healed! He calculates that (like P.T. Barnum) if he gets one sucker a minute his future will be more than rosy.

The young lady’s father, who wants to crush the competition, has the powder analyzed—those four ingredients can’t cure anything. A trial ensues and the judge! is incapacitated, takes a powder (no, not literally—and it’s a joke used on a text slide in the film), and miraculously feels better.

Father of young girl buys the company and formula from our hero—but insists on knowing what the fifth ingredient is that our hero will not reveal, but finally does. It’s – faith. (Sort of like the think system in “The Music Man.”)

At any rate, boy gets girl and all live happily ever after.

This is a wonderfully curated series and Ben Model was, once again, a superb piano accompanist/composer to all three films.

ConcertMeister

Summer Silent Clowns (6/29/13)

This was the first Saturday matinee of the four-part summer series. The short was Love and Surgery (1914) starring Billie Ritchie, followed by Syd Chaplin in The Missing Link (1928). N.B.: IMDB has the date as 1927.

Seeing such an early film side by side with a later film was an eye opener. Love and Surgery was practically all slapstick—I’m not even sure a stab was made at a discernible plot. And everybody got whacked (not in the “killed” sense), including the women. I found that to be a little off-putting. Also, it occurred more than once. There was some humor in the film but it was hard to come by—mostly just the physical slapstick/violence.

The Missing Link finds an English nobleman and scientist (who is also a misogynist), Lord Melville Dryden, trying to get his luggage on board a steamer to Africa, where Colonel Braden believes that the Missing Link has been spotted. Via letter, Colonel Braden has also stated that his daughter, Beatrice (Ruth Hiatt), will be more than happy to be Lord Dryden’s guide and companion. She already has stars in her eyes and is hoping to charm, and even marry, Lord Dryden. The luggage barely makes it on board after our hero, Arthur Wells (Syd Chaplin), hoping to make a little bit of money by assisting the rich Lord Dryden, goes through a lengthy series of mishaps, including being frightened by an organ-grinder’s monkey. After much difficulty, even involving losing his pants, Wells ends up as a stowaway in Lord Dryden’s dressing chamber. Lord Dryden comes up with a plan for Wells to pretend to be Lord Dryden, so that Wells won’t be thrown off the steamer, therefore allowing the real Dryden to not become entangled with Ms. Braden. With me so far?

When the steamer gets to Africa, all goes as planned until Wells realizes that he’s deathly afraid of going out in the wilds to try to find and capture the Missing Link. Beatrice gives him a leopard’s paw as a good luck charm, which unfortunately never makes into his pants pocket. Inevitably, he makes the foray, gets chased by all manner of wild beasts, especially a pride of lions, realizes that he doesn’t have his lucky charm, sees it on the floor of the jungle, and reaches for it only to find that it’s attached to a live leopard! The Missing Link, a close-to-seven-foot-man-like simian, is finally spotted and is chased back to Colonel Braden’s home, where he begins to wreak havoc with everyone, especially Beatrice.

Wells, still pretending to be Dryden, finds out that there was yet another stowaway from the steamer—the organ-grinder’s monkey. Even as he tries to keep away from the monkey and also tries to tame and capture the Missing Link, he ends up using the monkey to assist him. He perches the monkey on top of his head and wears a long coat over his entire body so that he is an even larger version of the Missing Link.

The Missing Link is cowed by fear, allowing Wells to use the monkey to subdue the Missing Link, and thus save Beatrice from harm. Beatrice is overwhelmingly grateful and pours her heart out to him, still thinking that he’s Dryden. He leaves for a moment to get something to help calm her and is tormented, knowing that he needs to tell her the truth. While he’s gone, Beatrice gets another fright and jumps off of the bed where she had been trying to calm down, and promptly hides behind the curtains. Without Wells knowing what has happened, the monkey has jumped into the bed and pulled the sheets up and over him.

Wells returns and pours out his heart to Beatrice (well, really the monkey) and tells her that even though he isn’t the rich and famous Lord Dryden, he loves her with all his heart and desperately wants to marry her. When he asks for her hand, the monkey pops out. Much mirth ensues when Beatrice reveals herself from behind the curtains and lets Wells know that she heard everything he said and—yes! she loves him for who he really is and will happily marry him.

The performances were uniformly good and there were ample sight gags, chases, pratfalls and the like. All accompanied, as always, by the more-than-capable Ben Model at the Steinway grand piano. Now if they only allowed us to eat popcorn in the Bruno Walter Auditorium, it would have been the perfect matinee.

ConcertMeister

The Knights Are Back (6/25/13)

And so are the Naumburg Orchestral Concerts in Central Park—for the 108th year! These free concerts are one of the best treasures of New York, in my opinion. I have heard The Knights (a fine, young chamber orchestra) in at least one Naumburg concert last year, and they’re scheduled for one more this summer, as well.

Here’s a rundown of the program. Sinfonia, No. 6, ‘La Casa del Diavolo’ for orchestra in
D minor, Op 12, No. 4 (1771), Andante sostenuto – Allegro assai, Andantino con moto, Andante sostenuto – Allegro con molto, Luigi Boccherini (1743–1805); Suite from Orphée (World Premiere), Philip Glass (1937–); Selections from Tierkreis (1974–75), Karlheinz Stockhausen (1928–2007); and Symphony No. 41, ‘Jupiter’, in C major, K.551 (1788), Allegro vivace, Andante cantabile, Menuetto: Allegretto – Trio, Molto Allegro, W. A. Mozart
(1756–91).

The Boccherini was played without a conductor and is a nicely compact work, though the third movement was a little longer than the rest. The calm opening gave way to a rather jaunty Allegro, while the second movement had a constant, gentle rhythm. The third opened quietly and then we got the House of the Devil—rapid string writing reminiscent of Telemann or Vivaldi that was fast and furious. A great concert opener.

The music of Philip Glass always stymies me. I understand the concept behind the repeated, repeated, phrases and phrases and rhythms and rhythms. I just don’t “get” them. I know that I’ve been on a journey from here to there but I don’t know how or why. Usually the phrases and rhythms are so disjointed and foreign to my ear that they turn me off. At least the tunes and phrases and rhythms of Orphée were pleasing to listen to. This was a suite of music culled from Mr. Glass’s opera of the same name. The orchestra, conductorless again, played very well.

After intermission, we heard music by Karlheinz Stockhausen—a name known to me, but I’m not sure I’ve heard any of his works, and certainly not in live performance. Tierkreis is German for zodiac, and the original work was twelve short tunes written for music boxes, one for each sign of the zodiac. I don't know whether it was a timing issue, but we only got one selection—Leo. Apparently Mr. Stockhausen was fine with all sorts of adaptations of these tunes and this one was for a chamber ensemble. I think I counted seven players: violin, bass, clarinet, French horn, bassoon, trumpet, and percussion. Sorry if I left anyone out. This particular arrangement, and a fine one it was, was by Caroline Shaw.

The Mozart symphony was played with characteristic grace, lightness, and when necessary, power. Oddly, this piece had Eric Jacobsen at the helm as conductor. After the Boccherini and Glass sans conductor, I was rather surprised that a piece as familiar as this one would use a conductor. I guess that’s what makes the concert world go ’round.

Special thanks, once again, to WQXR (105.9 FM) for providing a knowledgeable and interesting host in Jeff Spurgeon, and for broadcasting the concert live on WQXR. As for the Naumburg Orchestral Concerts, there are three more this summer—and luckily for me, there is a work on each of the next two concerts that I’m especially looking forward to. Let’s hope Mother Nature provides perfect settings as she did this past Tuesday.

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Lieder Abend “Vienna 1900” (6/18/13)

This was a wonderful lieder concert at the Austrian Cultural Forum New York. Often, the concerts at ACFNY turn out to be just “too much, too much” for me. And this one almost started out that way. Amira Elmadfa, mezzo-soprano, and Paul Plummer, piano presented a very ambitious program.

Two Lieder op. 14, Arnold Schoenberg (1874–1951); Five Lieder op. 4 based on poems by
S. George, Anton Webern (1883–1954); The Book of the Hanging Gardens, op. 15, S. George, Schoenberg; Lieder eines fahrenden Gesellen, Gustav Mahler (1860–1911); Four Lieder op. 2, Alban Berg (1885–1935); and Three ‘Breittl – Lieder’, Schoenberg, was the program.

Obviously, I can’t comment on every song by every composer, so some broad brush strokes are in order here. First, Ms. Elmadfa and Mr. Plummer were consummate performers and consummate partners. I was a little taken aback by Ms. Elmadfa’s breathing technique. I was often aware of what looked like double-clutching her diaphragm before approaching some phrases. Her singing was fine—the technique was a little unnerving.

Now, on to all the positives. Of the first two Schoenberg lied, the second appealed to me more. Both were spiky in sung intervals and slightly choppy as far as written phrases within each song were concerned. The Webern songs were a little more accessible, with more linear settings and longer vocal lines but still with modern sounds, both in harmonies and vocal intervals. The second Schoenberg set made a better impression on me than the opening lied. I particularly liked the third song in the set – Als Neuling trat ich ein.

When we got to the Mahler, we also got to more traditional lieder—strophic texts, more “singable” vocal lines, etc. What we also got was portions of text/settings that were very dramatic and declamatory. That’s when I had my aha! moment. Schoenberg and Webern had taken the most dramatic and forward-thinking ideas from the Mahler lieder and used them as springboards for their deconstruction/reconstruction of lied. It made perfect sense, though it cam from a backwards demonstration.

The Berg songs were all linked by sleep, sleep, sleep, and death. But they were pretty, calm, and peaceful.

The final Schoenberg lied were a complete about face—strophic, coquettish, playful, bright, and cheerful. I never knew Schoenberg had that in him! They were the perfect choice to end the concert with. Ms. Elmadfa handled these well, but I think her heart was in the darker lied. All in all, a wonderful concert at one of my favorite (if eclectic) halls.

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Jacqueline Jonée: Video Vérité (6/17/13)

This is the third time I’ve seen Jacqueline Jonée, the Premier Piano Drag Diva. This year’s presentation was a video tour of highlights from years past. The four segments of the video were drawn from Liberté, Egalité, Jacqueline Jonée in Concert (I’m so glad I’ve mastered rudimentary HTML), A Date with Liberace, Sofari So Goody, and My Favorite Things (see my blog post of 6/20/12).

The highlights from the videos included a lot of Ms. Jonée’s bravura-style playing, assisted by the JouJou Jacquettes Philharmonic Orchestra. The names of the pieces, Liszt, Chopin, Rachmaninoff, among others, don’t come readily to me and there was not enough light for me to take readable, easy-to-access notes. Highlights of the comedy from the videos included a very funny bit where her wig gets tangled in the microphone at the piano and the stage manager has to come out and disentangle her. In one of the earlier clips, she keeps saying that she’s always dreamed of playing the Bruno Walter Auditorium, the hall at the Lincoln Center Library for the Performing Arts. Finally, her concertmaster tells her she really is playing the house. Later she refers to it as the Walter Bruno Auditorium and a third time (jokes are always in threes, right?) as the Barbara Walters Auditorium. Her Date with Liberace obviously gave her ample opportunity to display audacious costumes, along with that solid piano technique of hers. Carousel, from “Jacques Brel Is Alive ...” gets funnier and funnier the faster it goes. And the page-turning episode, from My Favorite Things (I think) with the rabbi displaying impeccable comic timing is very, very funny—choreographed down to a head-nodding T.  Did I mention that the rabbi was the page turner?  From a videography standpoint, the later two segments (Sofari and Favorite Things) were clearer and easier to hear. Another big plus in all four video segments is a photo montage of
Ms. Jonée with adoring fans—of whom there are many.

Après video, the JouJou Jacquettes Orchestra du jour was introduced, and Ms. Jonée made her entrance in a vibrant blue gown and her trademark big, blonde hair. There were four pieces performed. We had heard snippets of them throughout the videos, as they are “set pieces” that get performed regularly—and why not? since the orchestrations already exist. A note, the orchestrations are a bit fluid, as the clientele and scoring of the orchestra is not always the same.

We heard a wonderful Bernstein amalgam of America, Nothing’s Gonna Harm You, and There’s a Place for Us. This is a very nice interweaving of the tunes, with rhythms bent, and phrases intermingled. And very effective. My Buddy is a rather straightforward rendition of a lovely tune, and in this day and age when we honor so many who have been lost to AIDS (and for anyone who has lost someone near and dear to them), the last line, “Your buddy, misses you,” is achingly poignant.

At this point, Ms. Jonée paused, conversed with an audience member and then said, “We have a request. But we’re going to play the next piece anyway!” It was announced as A Gershwin Mudley—er, Medley. We had Rhapsody in Blue, I Got Rhythm, Fascinatin’ Rhythm, etc. Uptempo fun.

The closer was another wonderful amalgam that included I Am What I Am, Over the Rainbow, and the last line of the Star Spangled Banner—“o’er the land of the free, and the home of the brave.” A fitting tribute to Gay, Lesbian, Bisexual, Transgender and Queer Pride month. Merci, mademoiselle Jacqueline Jonée!

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p.s. Thanks, Pheas. I get by with a little help from my phriends