Tuesday, January 29, 2013

The Crossroads of the Soul—or “L’Histoire du Soldat” Plus Four

Stravinsky’s “L’Histoire du Soldat” is one of those pieces that I know about—maybe have heard a snippet of—but don’t really know. I do know that this was my first time hearing the entire work; hearing it live was a big plus. Speaking of plus, before we got to “L’Histoire,” we had a four-piece prelude.
The concert started with three brief piano pieces and one piano/violin piece. These were thoroughly connected to each other according to the 32 pages of program notes (that I did not read all of).
The Program
Legenda, No. 6 from Desiat’ P’es, Opus 13 (1913), Sergei Prokofiev (1891–1953)
Prelude, from Pour le Piano (1901), Claude Debussy (1862–1918)
Prelude No. 2, from Cinq Preludes, Opus 74, 1915, Alexander Scriabin (1871/2–1915)
Louange à l’immotalité de Jésus, from Quatuor pour la fins du temps (1941), Olivier Messiaen (1908–1992)
L’Histoire du Soldat (1918), Igor Stravinsky (1882–1971) and Charles-Ferdinand Ramuz
(1878–1947)

(whew!)
First, the Prokofiev was a bit subdued (somewhat odd for a concert opener). The Debussy that followed was more fiery and had some characteristic Debussy flourishes—many arpeggios that sounded like a wash of impressionistic sounds (though that was a term that Debussy did not particularly like)—plus some nice sections with block chords; thick sounds that had some heft.
To me, the Scriabin was a bit meandering, and the piece itself was very brief. The Messiaen seemed slightly disjointed—the piano and violin seemed quite independent of each other. And the violin was either playing microtones (just off the pitch) or just off the pitch.
Mary Bopp was the pianist, with Sharon Gunderson as the violinist, who also played in the Stravinsky.
L’Histoire—it was designed as a theater piece for septet, dancers, narrator, and actors. Originally, there were two (or three) actors, narrator, and a principal dancer, plus additional dancers. We got the version with septet and narrator.
The cast: Sharon Gunderson, violin; Wayne Britton, narrator; Lisa Stokes Chin, double bass; Mitch Kriegler, clarinet; Daniel Hane, bassoon; Sandra Coffin, cornet (though it looked like a trumpet to me—must do some research); Mark Broschinsky, trombone; Jay O’Brien, percussion; with John Tarbet conducting.
All played very well and Mr. Tarbet led a very tight ensemble. L’Histoire is probably best described as a morality play, where the protagonist never quite understands the moral. Our soldier makes a deal with the devil, then complains that he didn’t understand the deal. He’d been duped! He gets a second chance and agrees to the new terms. When he breaks the terms of the new contract, he loses all over again. I’m not sure what the moral is, but our soldier definitely loses out.
Stravinsky’s music throughout is very spiky and hard driven rhythmically, just like other ballet scores including Petrouchka and Rite of Spring. The chamber ensemble quality was very interesting—each of the instrumentalists got a chance to shine and there were interesting smaller groupings as well. The percussionist was practically a dancer himself, dealing with shifting rhythms, different drumsticks (including soft-headed sticks) and muffled tambourines plus playing the triangle. Just keeping track of which sticks to use and where they were was a ballet in and of itself.
The narrator did a fine job—including delineated characters—though projecting over the full ensemble was a bit problematic a couple of times. And maybe it was the translation, but it sounded a little Dr. Seuss-y to me at times. I’ll definitely explore a few different recordings. So happy I heard a (for me) first hearing of L’Histoire.
ConcertMeister

Wednesday, January 23, 2013

The Yeomen of the Guard

This one was a bit bittersweet for me. This operetta (for want of a better word) is one of the lesser-known in the Gilbert & Sullivan canon. I did a production of it many, many years ago, so those memories colored my view of this performance. I saw the New York Gilbert & Sullivan Players at City Center (a beautiful theater) in NYC. I bought a cheap ticket since I was more concerned with hearing the score than seeing and evaluating the entire production.
I was not let down. While my seat had a partially obstructed view, I was able to hear everything just fine.
When I did the show, our “orchestra” was a piano, electric organ, and tympani. This production had a small, but real, orchestra. Our production skipped the overture and substituted an Act II madrigal—“Strange Adventure.” Not a bad trade-off, but hearing the overture live was really great.
The company, while employing quite a few professional actors/singers was a little heavy-handed in the acting category. And I found some of the shift from spoken dialogue into sung sections a little off-putting.
The score doesn’t have any big G&S hits but it did have the requisite trios, ballads, patter songs, double choruses, etc. that you’d expect from a Sullivan score. Hearing them fully orchestrated was a real treat for me. And the vocalists were quite good across the board.
I don’t know the full story behind the NYGASP (as they call themselves) crowd but it seems a bit collegial in that they’re a bunch that have a bit of history, yet a bit of ingrown history, too. Still, the one major set was done quite well, costumes were for the most part executed well (there were a few unfortunate “pumpkin pants” shorts—think Sir Walter Raleigh—that ended up looking a little more like culottes/hot pants on a couple of the male characters), and lighting and sound were done pretty well, too.
All in all, a slightly more expensive concert than is usual for me, but one that I really wanted to experience, and I’m glad that I did.
ConcertMeister

Here's a version of "Strange Adventure": http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gsOBcnelPVU

Sunday, January 6, 2013

From Beethoven to Barber—Sort of

The pianist was Benjamin Bradham, who I have heard before. The program:
Sonata in g minor (K.461), Sonata in B-flat major (K.545), Domenico Scarlatti (1685–1757);
Sonata in d minor, Op. 31, No. 2, Ludwig van Beethoven (1770–1827), Largo; Allegro – Adagio – Allegretto; Fantasy in f minor, Op. 49, Frédéric Chopin (1810–1849)

Intermission
Reflections in the Water, Ondine, Claude Debussy (1810–1918); Funeral March, Chopin
Which brings us to “Sort of.” The concert was to have ended with the Barber Sonata in e-flat minor. An announcement at the beginning of the program provided a bit of unintended humor—due to Mr. Bradham being a bit under the weather, the Funeral March replaced the Barber.
First, Mr. Bradham played very well throughout. There may have been a few dropped notes in the Chopin pieces (but there are thousands!) but the entire program was well played and well received. Negatives first: there was a specific announcement made to turn off all electronic devices, yet one phone and one beeper (watch timer?) went off during the concert. Turn them off, even after intermission. I feel good about saying this, since I don’t have a cell phone/beeper/electronic device.
Positives: Since the program ran in a chronological format, the Scarlatti pieces were a bit more simple that the rest. The first Sonata had some exploratory phrases followed by more fully realized phrases. My notes for the second Sonata include: more explosive, still mostly two lines, syncopation more fully realized in a very brief composition.
The Beethoven was much more expansive, opening with rolled chords (involving more use of the pedals to sustain the sound). This was followed by rapid passage work that was reminiscent of the Scarlatti—but with more depth of harmonies. The middle movement had chords, with filigree sections and a slightly disjointed compositional style, but with beautiful phrases. The piece finished with arpeggiated, though tuneful, phrases.
Chopin—this is a familiar piece (Google/youtube it—I’m a Yahoo! guy myself). My best friend ever called this the “Itsy-Bitsy-Spider” piece because of a prominent four-phrase segment in the middle. Overall, including “Itsy-Bitsy," there are fireworks passages plus a chorale-like section. (This is one piece where it seemed that a few of Chopin’s thousands of notes might have been dropped.)
The Debussy pieces entailed what I call a wash of sound. As in, the use of the pedal keeps the sounds in the air for a longer period of time. It’s similar to the wash of Impressionist colors in paintings, though the composers claimed not to be Impressionists. The second Debussy piece had many arpeggios plus some more angular/spiky phrases and a few bursts of sound.
The aforementioned Chopin Funeral March was basically in four sections, with the third being the famous “pray… for… the… dead …”, but the other sections were filled with the muscular bombast of Chopin.
All in all, a wonderful program (played entirely from memory) by a very gifted pianist. I am a lucky fellow to hear such great music for free via the New York Public Library system. Go out and explore, folks!
ConcertMeister