The Metropolitan Opera—How Grand

So, this one was not a freebie but neither did I spend big bucks. I bought a standing room ticket for Faust, by Charles Gounod (1818–1893). The cast included Piotr Beczala (Faust), John Relyea (Méphistophélès), Alexey Markov (Valentin), Julie Boulianne (Siébel), and Marina Poplavskaya (Marguerite).

The gist of the story is that Faust makes a deal with Méphistophélès to reclaim his youth. While in the underworld, he sees and seduces Marguerite, with assistance from jewels supplied by the Devil. When Marguerite’s brother, Valentin, returns from battle and sees Marguerite “with child,” he and Faust duel—but of course the Devil engages trickery and Valentin is killed. Marguerite is driven insane and kills her child; Faust sees her collapse and die; and Faust is returned to his life on Earth.

All of this to some really gorgeous music. Highlights include Salut! Demeure chaste et pure (Faust, tenor); Le veau d’or (Méphistophélès, bass-baritone); Avant de quitter ses lieux (Valentin, baritone); Faites-lui mes aveux ... (Siébel, mezzo-soprano, in a “pants” role—she plays a young man also smitten with Marguerite); Ah! Je ris de me voir si belle, also known as the Jewel song (Marguerite, soprano); and the achingly beautiful and stirring final trio (Marguerite, Faust, and Méphistophélès).

The directorial concept was updated to early-20th century, which did not bother me in the slightest. The direction was pretty good, though I’m not keen on ensemble members carrying their set pieces (chairs, benches, etc.) on with them. It’s a little too “musical theater” to my taste. And yes, I do know that opera is musical theater. The chorus did a fine job as did most of the soloists. Mr. Relyea did not have quite the presence in the house that the other principals did.

Faust was a long, but thoroughly enjoyable, evening at the opera. And the price ($27.50) was just right.

ConcertMeister

p.s. In my learning-to-sing-falsetto days, I actually attacked the Jewel song and Siébel’s aria, so hearing this music brought back wonderful memories. Especially considering who my accompanist/coach was.

More Silent Films

This was another installment of The Silent Clowns Film Series celebrating the 120th birth anniversary of Harold Lloyd. Both the short, Bumping into Broadway (1919) and the feature, Safety Last! (1923) starred Mr. Lloyd.

In Bumping into Broadway, Lloyd was a playwright staying in a boardinghouse who was given his third and final notice of rent due—$3.50! He scrounged up (from some very funny places) just enough dough, but when he went out into the hallway, there was an actress who was in the exact same predicament, so, gallant gent that he is, he gave the money to her. As a result, the landlady’s “muscle” went after Lloyd, leading to slapstick chases, bumbling cops, stairs being frantically climbed and scurried down, roulette winnings from an accidental bet, and pratfalls galore. Oh, in the end the boy gets the girl.

Safety Last! has Lloyd setting off to the big city from Great Bend, leaving his girl behind but promising to send for her when he’s made good at work. He does have work as a clerk in a department store, but he misrepresents his importance. When his girl shows up unexpectedly, he has to fake his status, even including impersonating the department store manager. In the course of this, he overhears the real manager offering $1,000! to anyone who can bring huge crowds to the store. Hey! He knows someone who can climb, human fly–like, up the face of a building. He convinces his roommate to do the stunt, but that plan is thwarted due an earlier incident involving the police that has a disgruntled officer on the lookout for the human fly.

A new plan is hatched, where Lloyd will climb one story of the building and then the real human fly will take over, after ditching the cop. Suffice it to say that Lloyd ends up having to do the entire climb that includes many hazards along the way—pigeons, near falls, a board poking out of a window, a mouse up his pants leg, a rope mishap and ... yes ... the clock! Indeed, this is the iconic “dangling from the clock” movie. He finally makes it to the top, his girl is there, the roommate is still being chased by the cop, and Lloyd and his girl stroll off into the sunset.

Both films were masterfully accompanied by Ben Model at the Steinway grand. From the program notes, we learn that the climb was inspired by a real climb observed by Lloyd. He then hired the daredevil, Bill Strothers, and cast him as the roommate. The actual climb sequence required Lloyd to only be involved with two stories, with camera angles supplying the illusion of the long climb. For actual shots of the entire climb, Strothers was used as a stunt double. While I didn’t stay for the Q&A session afterward, I did hear that the climb sequence was completed first and then the rest of the plot portions of the movie were filmed and edited into the final product. Both films were quite funny, eliciting real laughter from the audience, including me. A fun Saturday afternoon at the silents!

ConcertMeister

Daniel Beliavsky, Piano

This was a beautifully played program consisting of Pictures from an Exhibition (1874), Modest Mussorgsky (1839–1881); Impromptus No. 3 and No. 4, Op. 90, and No. 2, Op. 142 (1827), Franz Schubert (1797–1828); Ballad in Yellow (1997), Wedding Song (2000), David Del Tredici (b. 1937); and Nocturne, Op. 72, No. 1 (1827) and Ballade, Op. 23, No. 1 (1831–1835), Frédéric Chopin (1810–1849).

All pieces except the Del Tredici were played from memory. I loved hearing the Mussorgsky all the way through in one sitting—usually you’ll get a movement or two played on the classiscal music station. From Mr. Beliavsky’s brief remarks before the concert, we gained an insight into the flow of the piece. It was conceived as a walk through an actual exhibition of paintings, so there was a promenade (p) at the beginning and also between some movements and then there were pianistic renditions of the pictures: The Gnome, with a
dark-hued, quasi-spooky feeling; (p); The Old Castle, featuring an oriental cast to the melody, over a drone in the lower notes; (p); Tuileries: Children Quarreling at Play, which was bright and energetic, mostly in the higher register of the piano; (p); Bydlo, mostly lower notes of the piano, with a slightly martial sound; (p); Ballad of the Unhatched Chickens, with chirping motifs and a jolly mien; Samuel Goldenberg and Schmuyle, featuring strong, straightforward octaves with added embellishments; (p); The Market Place at Limoges, the “busy”ness reflected in the rhythm and tempo, and virtuosic playing; Catacombe, with heavy, dark chords; Lingua Mortua, with tremolo rhythms in the right hand; and The Hut of Baba-Yaga, with bombastic and (again) virtuosic writing. The piece concludes with The Great Gate of Kiev, which brings home the themes of the promenades and sets the town bells to ringing. There is an overall heaviness, a grave “Russian” feel of heft and solidity in this tour-de-force piece played amazingly on Saturday afternoon.

After a well-deserved intermission, we had the Schubert Impromptus, the first with rippling accompaniment to a gentle tune of shifting temperaments. The second had a cheerful opening, deceptive in that it sounded simple but wasn’t. This reminded me of some of the Schubert and Schumann German Dances. The third Impromptu was more formal in its setting—still, beautiful in its own way.

In a slightly clumsy moment, Mr. Beliavsky brought a prepared music desk out for the Del Tredici pieces. (Note to stage management—give some thought to how this is going to look from the audience’s point of view.) Ballad in Yellow was originally a song whose text was a setting of a Garcia Lorca poem. For the piano composition, the vocal line was removed and the accompaniment was expanded. While this was an interesting concept, and pretty much successful, I found myself wishing for the original version. Maybe that’s just me. Wedding Song was bright with cheerful sounding chords and phrases and, toward the end, just a touch of dissonance. As a plus, at least for me, Mr. Del Tredici was in the audience—just three seats away from me. It’s great hearing the works of living composers and being able to honor them in person.

The cover of the program had the following: “A program exploring the modern Romantics, featuring works by 19th century composers who profoundly influenced the course of 20th century composition.” And we certainly got that.

With Chopin, we got (to my sensibilities) Chopin’s own, maybe more generally accepted, version of Romanticism. The gentle nature of the Nocturne made me almost avoid experiencing the powerful portions. Chopin is both serene and powerful—something that always takes me a bit by surprise. Mr. Beliavsky’s interpretation of the Ballade seemed a little less fluid than some others I’ve heard.

Still, this is a concert that I will remember as one of the better I’ve heard in a long, long time. Well done, and I am so glad I got to hear this!

ConcertMeister

Symphonic Piano Duo (4/4/13)

Ranko Markovic & Marialena Fernandes, duo pianists, at the Austrian Cultural Forum New York. This is a fun venue that I know I’ve mentioned before, and this concert was one piano, four hands (as opposed to two players, two pianos).

The program: Six pieces for piano four-hands (1896), Arnold Schoenberg (1874–1951); ‘Nachstück’ from Mahler’s Symphony No. 7, arranged by Alfredo Casella, Gustav Mahler (1860–1911); selections from ‘Several short waltzes for piano four-hands’ (1979, 1988), Wolfgang Rihm (b. 1952); Chamber Symphony, Op. 9, arrangement for piano four-hands by Felix Greissle, Schoenberg.

First, Schoenberg and Mahler were composers who were stretching the limits of classical music in their eras. While the music is sometimes still difficult to get a handle on, this concert was surprisingly easy to listen to. The Six pieces had an angularity and folk music feel, with the third of the six having running, fast fingering motifs. The fourth was gentler and tonal but still a bit spiky. The fifth had a highly charged, rhythmic feel.

Nachstück was very interesting, technically. A note, though. This duo has as their raison d’être a pianistic view of symphonic writing—not just a piano reduction or a watered down version of the score. They want to present a version of the score pianistically and symphonically. With this work, I often found myself thinking that I knew where the tune was going, until I didn’t. It veers just slightly away from what you expect. This was a good example of a classic march movement from the Symphony No. 7.

Rihm’s waltzes. Well, they’re waltzes; they’re lovely; they’re evocative; they’re sometimes somewhat scary (think Stephen King’s carousel or Stephen Sondheim’s darker moments). My notes include such random thoughts as “reminiscent of a film score,” “richness and density of four hands,” and “slower tempo sounded gray and drizzly to me—on the outside looking in.”

The Schoenberg Symphony arrangement had more of the dissonance and stretching of boundaries that I associate with the writing of that era. It sounded somewhat disjointed—even off-putting to my 2013 ears. I can’t imagine what an audience or critical response would have been at the original first hearing. For me, it was hard to get a sense of the music because of all of the notes in the way.

As an encore, the duo played a scherzo, Bruckner (symphony? No. 3?) that, even at its fiercest and most furious, had a bright, positive quality in both the composition and the performance.

Throughout, it was very interesting to see the interaction (hands, bodies, even feet (each pianist was in charge of the piano pedals at different times)) of the artists. I enjoyed this concert quite a bit.

ConcertMeister