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

Flute and Piano (6/15/13)

Norman Dee, flute, and Josephine Chan Yung, piano, are artists I have heard playing together before. Today, I was reminded that these are consummate pros, who presented a really nicely played concert. Well done!

Pièce en forme de Habanera (pour flute et piano), Maurice Ravel (1875–1937); Jeux (Sonatine pour flute et piano), Animé, Tendre, Jacques Ibert (1890–1962); Suite for flute and piano, Opus 34, Moderato, Scherzo, Romance, Final, Charles-Marie Widor (1844–1937); Hymn and Fuguing Tune, For flute and piano, George Boziwick (b. 1954); and First Sonata for flute and piano, Allegro Moderato, Adagio, Allegro poco moderato, Bohuslav Martinu (1890–1959) comprised the program.

Overall reaction?—a very good program. Close-up reaction?—maybe a little too much of a few things, as we will see later.

The Ravel was a first live hearing for me, though I am familiar with the piece from radio broadcasts. This is a slow, dance-like habanera (bum-ba-DUM-dum, bum-ba-DUM-dum), soothing, and including some very pretty trills for the flute. The opening movement of the Ibert had a brighter tempo with fuller piano writing—jaunty, veering almost into hectic. The second movement had rippling piano accompaniment and pastoral flute lines that put me in the frame of mind of a walk in the park. Is that the threat of a storm? Only a threat, with an eventual return to gentleness.

The Widor (and I’m really only familiar with him as an organist-composer) was a more traditional approach to flute/piano writing. It was slightly odd realizing this only after the fact, that Ravel and Ibert were stretching the boundaries, but that’s the way the programming went. The first movement was very pleasant, with a few lovely, soaring phrases. The second had a rhythmic piano part and fleet fingering for flute (sorry, I couldn’t resist a little alliteration). The third brought a more lush sound in the piano and more pretty phrases in the flute writing, in a very traditional sense. The Final had several distinct segments—almost like trying to cram too much into one movement. But all of the sections made sense.

While it’s always a pleasure to hear the music of living composers, and Mr. Boziwick was in the audience, I was a little befuddled by his piece. Apparently a hymn and fuguing tune usually presents the hymn tune and then the fugue portion. According to Mr. Boziwick’s introduction to the piece, his was a deconstruction that presented the hymn tune and the fuguing portion simultaneously, as opposed to consecutively. As a result, I had problems discerning the differences. If there had been an example of the original layout followed by Mr. Boziwick’s piece, it might have made a bit more sense to me.

The Martinu: Hmmm, how to say this? It had a harp-like piano opening and a more modern, but still accessible sound; brisk and bright. There were some spiky upward intervals in the flute, and the movement seemed a little long. My notes for the second movement include, “also lengthy, and seemed to wander, wanting to be too much?” The third movement had shifting rhythms that were not straightforward at all. It sounded like it was the most technically difficult writing of the concert (and to me, hearing that it is technical is not always a good thing)—but the playing was just fine. It was not everyone’s cup of tea, however, as I saw at least three audience members leave during the piece. And it was not an overly long concert.

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Listen to the opening piano figure (bum-ba-DUM-dum, bum-ba-DUM-dum) here—http://tinyurl.com/khdzwza—for the habanera rhythm.

Charles Jones, Piano (6/8/13)

Charles Jones played a very engaging piano concert on Saturday afternoon that included Sonata in C Major, Op. 53, “Waldstein” – Allegro con brio, Introduzione-Adagio molto,
Rondo-Allegro moderato, Beethoven (1770–1827); Etude in E Major, Op. 10, No. 3, Chopin (1810–1849); Jeux d’eau, Ravel (1857–1937), and after intermission, Ballade in g minor,
Op. 23; Four Impromptus – A-Flat Major, Op. 29, F-Sharp Major, Op. 36, G-Flat Major, Op. 51, and C-Sharp Minor, Op. 66 “Fantaisie-Impromptu”; and Ballade in f minor, Op. 52, all by Chopin.

The Beethoven is a very big work but I found some of the phrases to be a little choppy. It might have been nerves, or just needing to warm up? I also found parts of the middle movement to be a bit segmented. The third movement was spirited. Mr. Jones’s shift into the French repertoire was quite enjoyable. The Chopin Etude had a gentle opening and was, overall, played well. The Ravel really sounded like “water games.” The tinkling portions of the score give a sense of light sparkling on water. There was a darker, slightly heavier section, followed by ripples slowly fading away.

During the first half of the concert, there was a woman who had a coughing fit and, thankfully, left the hall. (She did return later.) In the second half, we had a cell phone ringing. Deep down in the bowels of a woman’s very large purse. Consequently, the ringing lasted a while. This ticks me off. I don’t have a cell phone, so it’s never mine.

The opening Ballade is a favorite of mine and it was a treat to hear it live in a very enjoyable performance, even though there was a slight stumble at the end. All four Impromptus were fun as well, with my notes for the first including “bright and bubbly.” The second had a heroic section in the middle and seemed to be a little more fully developed. The third had lots of rhythmic runs—the equivalent of pianistic fireworks—which are often a hallmark of Chopin’s compositions. In general, there seemed to be more tunes in the impromptus. The final impromptu had rapid finger work from the get go. And those tunes I mentioned?

Yes, this is the “I’m Always Chasing Rainbows” impromptu. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=x93pwAvUkAA If you want “I’m Always Chasing Rainbows,” skip to 1:10 or so. This sort of makes one of my points—you’ll rarely hear this (what seems to be a studio recording) in a live concert hall.

The final Ballade was very well played. I enjoyed the French repertoire better than the opening Waldstein Sonata, but I’m certainly glad that I got to hear all of them. I urge you all to check out some youtube action on any of the selections from this concert. Both of the Ballades and the Fantaisie-Impromptu are well known to me and would probably at least sound familiar to a lot of you. Mr. Jones’s playing was quite good and his interpretations were, to my ears, pretty valid throughout.

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Jazz Trio (6/6/13)

Elias Stemeseder, piano; Thomas Morgan, bass; Jim Black, drums.

Nice jazz. I can’t tell you what was played. There were announcements from the stage, but I couldn’t decipher them. “Tirade,” “The Hoax,” “It Is,” “Ugly Snug,” “Sonatic,” “Derriere”? Maybe. Totally unclear, from what we actually heard from the stage. Now, music we heard from the stage—fantastic!

These guys are strong—musically, emotionally, and physically. Boy, I can’t even break it down into jazz tunes thrown back and forth; solos trotted out; or “bring it back home”. All of that was there, but it was presented so subtly that you were never really sure when you went from “cool, swinging” jazz to “hard-driving, frantic” jazz (not my favorite, but here, it worked).

Mr. Black reminded me of Peter Pan—flitting about his drum set, being mischievous, but still eminently watchable and talented. Mr. Morgan? The tortoise (from tortoise/hare); slow and steady wins the race. Strong playing, both physically and artistically. Mr. (Babyface) Stemeseder played a damn fine piano—knowing when to shine and knowing when to open his strings to let the overtones take over.

There were tunes (though few and far between) and there were build ups (both in volume and intensity), and there was frantic—still, this was a well-thought-out and well-delivered jazz concert. Enough modernity balanced with throwback, old-school jazz.

Kudos to the Austrian Cultural Forum New York. I’ll be back!

ConcertMeister

Musical Grand Tour for Woodwind Trio and Piano (6/1/13)

Seven Composers – Seven Countries – Four Centuries. Well that’s rather pretentious, eh? Our performers were Roe Goodman (bassoon), Arianna Kalian (oboe), Giovanni Koll (piano), and Stephen Poppel (clarinet). From reading their bios, it seems that these are very talented amateur musicians with other careers not including making music. Not that there’s anything wrong with that.

I’m thinking that this time around I’ll just highlight the high points for me, rather than listing every work and every movement.

I particularly liked Suite pour Trio d’Anches (Alexandre Tansman, Poland, 1897–1986), a composer who was new to me. Here’s the breakdown and my reactions: I. Dialogues – Andante sostenuto, with interesting harmonies and individual lines; II. Scherzino – Molto vivace, with shifting, playful rhythms; III. Aria – Largo, which was somber, serious and nicely composed; and IV. Finale – Vivo, with the bassoon providing a steady rhythm, followed by the clarinet in a disjointed but spirited burst, closing with a chorale-like section.

Trio Pathétique (Mikhail Glinka, Russia, 1804–1867) was also quite enjoyable. This was a clarinet, bassoon, piano trio that had opening unisons, rippling piano accompaniments, musical phrases passed back and forth, with some piano parts that reminded me of music box tinkling. There was an extended clarinet/piano duet and then a piano/bassoon duet. The pianist was great throughout, and it was a very nice, varied, interesting piece (though there was one minor clarinet mishap).

In the second half, I liked the Sonata in C for Oboe and Bassoon (Carlo Besozzi, Italy,
1738–1791), also a composer new to me. The opening Allegro presented both instruments as equals, though the bassoon was sometimes relegated to rhythmic accompaniment. The middle Adagio movement seemed more like an exercise rather than music for music’s sake. The closing Allegro was pleasant, but I still liked the opening movement the best.

The closer was Cinq Pièces en Trio (Jacques Ibert, France, 1890–1962). C’mon, even the name is fun—jzhach-ee-bear. Ooh-la-la! At any rate, my notes for the five movements include: Bright, tightly scored; Oboe/clarinet opening, then trio (bassoon) – gentle and pleasant; Running figures (fast passage work); Calm, rocking rhythms, pastoral but with some spiky accents; and Jaunty, no pretensions, just a little gem of a romp.

Less successful, to my ear, were transcriptions of Henry Purcell (England, 1659–1695), and Franz Schubert (Austria, 1797–1826), and a Rhapsody for Solo Clarinet (Willson Osborne,
1906–1979).

Still the concert delivered Seven Composers, Seven Countries, and Four Centuries. And a lot of good music along the way.

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