Four Hand Band – Broadway to Classical (11/15/14)

Sasha Papernik and Alexander Wu, pianists, put on a terrific show—piano, four hands, plus a solo turn for each during the intermission-less concert. The program was more Classical to Broadway but that’s a minor quibble.

Sonata for Four Hand Piano; 1. Prelude, 2. Rustique, 3. Final – F. Poulenc (1899–1963)
Waltz & Tarantella from Sketches vol. 2 (Four-Hand) – V. Gavrilin (1939–1999)
‘A Gershwin Melody’ for piano duet – The Gershwins, Arr. by G. Haydon & J. Lyke
Etudes based on Gershwin Songs; 1. The Man I Love, 2. Fascinatin’ Rhythm – G. Gershwin (1898–1937), Arr. by E. Wild
Ma mere l’Oye for piano four hands – M. Ravel (1875–1937)
Fantasy on Themes from Carmen (Four-Hand) – G. Bizet (1838–1875),
Arr. by O. Singer
Russian Lullaby – I. Berlin (1888–1989), Arr. by S. Papernik
Bandoneón no. 1 from Suite Troileana (Four-Hand) – A. Piazzolla (1921–1992),
Arr. by M. Horn
Selections from West Side Story (Four-Hand); 1. I Feel Pretty, 2. Cool, 3. Maria, 4. Tonight, 5. America – L. Bernstein (1918–1990), Arr. by C. Klose

In addition to the music, we were also treated to commentary on the pieces as well as on the history of four-hand piano, itself. Piano, four hands, was often used by families playing together and also by pupils and teachers playing together. While it dates back at least to the 16th century, it had a renaissance of sorts in the 18th century as pianos became more readily available in homes and were used as family entertainment (a precursor, if you will, to radio/TV/internet).

The first piece was written when Poulenc was a youthful 19, and it showed in a couple of instances. It started with strong rhythms and tuneful phrases, followed by a slower second movement that expanded a bit and had Asian influences, finishing brightly and briskly—almost too energetic (see “youthful,” above).

Gavrilin’s waltz started slowly and had a heavy, lush, Russian feel to it, with a haunting main theme that came back several times. The tarantella had a minor key main theme presented as a straightforward dance form with some dissonances tossed into the mix. It was a real crowd pleaser because of the form and the very brisk tempos.

The Gershwin medley combined Stairway to Paradise, Do It Again, and Swanee in an arrangement that had a real Tin Pan Alley flair. It was a celebration of popular music, but it felt almost like a throwaway, though the arrangements were far beyond my meager pianistic abilities, and were played beautifully by both artists.

The Etudes were originally improvisations by the arranger, Earl Wild, that he was encouraged to write down. Boy, are we glad he did. Technically very different from the previous medley,
The Man I Love was absolutely lovely, while Fascinatin’ Rhythm was obviously rhythmic, with some really off the wall flights of fancy, I’ve heard Mr. Wu play these before (this was his solo offering) and they’re always a joy to hear. I think I liked Fascinatin’ Rhythm even more this time around.

Ma mére was Ravel’s “Mother Goose Suite” for four-hand piano. It was veering into the Impressionistic piano style, with washes of tonal color, yet also included some writing in the extreme upper range of the piano that created a music-box feeling.

The Carmen themes were presented in a very straightforward manner and were the least favorite of mine. I understand the concept of bringing different genres to the piano literature but it didn’t quite do it for me. The same can be said for the West Side Story pieces that came later in the concert. Still, the audience enjoyed them, and there is that nice feeling of familiarity.

Ms. Papernik’s arrangement (her solo moment) of Berlin’s lullaby was interesting in that it combined a Russian folk song, as an introduction, with the lullaby proper, before springing into a stride piano version of the lullaby.

Piazzolla was a proponent of “nuevo tango,” stretching the traditional tango rhythms and forms in new ways. This piece was a prime example of that in terms of rhythms, harmonies, and depth of style, including several mood shifts within the piece.

After the WSS medley, the duo played a movement of Mozart’s Eine Kleine Nachtmusik as an encore. It was the perfect exclamation point to a delightful afternoon. Many of these pieces are on the duo’s debut CD, Four Hand Band, which comes out very shortly (or came out very recently, depending on when you read this). I probably won’t purchase it, but if you want to take a crack at a ConcertMeister experience, you might want to scope it out for yourself.

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Lovesong (11/10/14)

This was a semi-staged musical written by Michael Valenti. The cast and crew included Christine Cornell, Eddie Egan, Mamie Parris, and Jacob Smith as actors/vocalists, with Bill Cox as musical director/pianist, and Bill Ellison playing bass, and with projections by Ron Spivak.

It’s sort of hard to call this a musical, as there was no real extended dialogue, no choreography, and no real staging. It was more of a pastiche or a musical revue, with Love as its theme. All four singers were good (with one slightly weaker than the rest), but here’s the real plus, in my book. They all sang without amplification! Shocking, in this day and age. And we could actually hear them—the pianist and bassist shaded their dynamics so that the unamplified voices were (for the most part) balanced quite well.

The work began its life at the Top of the Village Gate in 1976, which may account for the revue style of writing. Interestingly, the texts come from such diverse authors as A. E. Houseman, Christina Rossetti, Sir Walter Raleigh, Anne Bradstreet, James Agee, Dorothy Parker, and Mr. Valenti, himself, etc., plus the ever-present, prolific Anonymous. This worked well, as it kept the songs interesting from a textual standpoint. Mr. Valenti’s composition style was also varied, including pop, rock lite, standard ballads, a power ballad or two, and such. With thirty-two songs in the show, I will not attempt to cover them all.

Bid Me Love was a sort of long intro to the next song, A Birthday, nicely performed by Ms. Cornell. When We’re Married featured all four, as a pair of married couples, in an Anything You Can Do, I Can Do Better sort of piece that was also done well.
To My Dear and Loving Husband had old-fashioned lyrics and was quite tender.
My Husband No. 1 introduced a running gag—one woman commenting on her husband to the other. Her husband is a jockey; he rides horses, and rides them and rides them, “and then he comes home ... and rides me!” Toward the end of the first act, we got My Husband No. 2. He’s a butcher and stuffs sausage all day, and stuffs them and stuffs them, “and then he comes home ... and stuffs me!” The act ended with a fun drinking-song waltz performed by all four.

Act two began with a brief reprise of Let the Toast Pass, the aforementioned drinking song, followed by Echo, a sweet little madrigal. A Rondelay was another madrigal-like song that I really enjoyed—it’s great to hear real harmony in theater songs. Ms. Parris scored a hit with Unhappy Bella, which was very funny. Mr. Egan got a chance to shine in Jenny Kissed Me, and Mr. Smith was very strong in Blood Red Roses, with the other three as backup singers. Act two also brought us
My Husband No. 3. He’s a drummer and bangs cymbals all day, and bangs them and bangs them, “and then he comes home ... and is so tired from banging, he just falls asleep!” The Company was featured in the last two songs, So We’ll Go No More A Roving, and An Epitaph, which closed out the show nicely.

So, a very pleasant Monday evening was had by me. I love the fact that I’m able to explore free and low-cost performances with such regularity. That’s it for now—

ConcertMeister

Lots of Sax (11/1/14)

Manhattan Saxophone Quartet | Adolphe Sax 200th Birthday Celebration

Dr. Jordan P. Smith, Andrew Steinberg, Daniel Kochersberger,
Jay Rattman

Premiere Quatuor (1857), IV. Allegretto – Jean-Baptiste Singelée (1812–1875)
Quartette (1879), I. Andante, II. Allegro – Caryl Florio (1843–1920)
Ragtime Suite (arr. 1974), I. Pan-Am Rag, Tom Turpin (c.1914), III. The Cascades, Scott Joplin (c.1904) – Arthur Frackenpohl (b. 1924)
Saxophone Quartet (1932), II. Canzona Variée Variation – Alexander Glazunov (1865–1936)
Andante et Scherzo (1938) – Eugene Bozza (1905–1991)
Rondo (1970) – Zdeněk Lukáš (1928–2007)
Saxophone Quartet (1995), IV. – Philip Glass (b. 1937)
The Revivalist (2012) – Alex Burtzos (b. 1985)

As we can see, the pieces were played in chronological order (by composition date, with the exception of the two rags). And this program was, in nature, a sampler—only selected movements from larger works—giving us a broad overview of the oeuvre for saxophone quartet. My notes for the first piece include, “Haydn-like but with a fuller, richer sound. Quite jaunty, classical but slightly oddly so.” And that can pretty much be said of all of the pieces, to some extent. Four saxes can create a powerful sound, especially when the chords are set to “ringing,” similar to ringing chords of a barbershop quartet (I know whereof I speak).

In the saxophone history department, the Florio was the first American quartet. In addition to its rich, fluid sound, it also introduced higher pitches (very pleasant) from the soprano sax. The rags were pure fun, creating a nice bridge from the classical era to the jazz era. They made me think of an old-time, outdoor bandstand or music gazebo. The Glazunov was, indeed, variations on a tune that was laid out chorale style and then embellished in different ways.

After intermission, the Bozza was more modern, with obvious nods to Debussy; it also included some of those creepy-crawly-French chords so often found in music coming out of the Paris Conservatory. And it took us into the realm of more modern woodwind writing, with rippling accompaniments and rhythmic burbles.

The jump to the Lukáš (1970) was extremely noticeable. It was solidly modern, with strikingly dissonant harmonies and intervals. The composition had harsh qualities and almost an “in your face” sensibility. The Glass that followed was minimalist, as expected. At first I thought it would be a toss-up between Lukáš and Glass, but I actually liked the Glass better—slightly more structure, and it was shorter.

Before the final piece (and the composer was in the house), we were thanked for coming to the concert, and, more so, for coming back for the second half. Not everyone did. The Revivalist’s seven movements were supposed to be representative of episodes in the life of an organist/choirmaster. Some of that came through, but not as fully as I would have wanted. There were some interesting ideas, still it was hard to take seriously (and maybe it wasn’t supposed to be?).

The playing all afternoon was really quite good, though a saxophone quartet is a bit of an acquired taste. This sampler-style concert made a lot of sense and gave us a view of the saxophone’s 200-year history. This may have been my maiden voyage with the Manhattan Saxophone Quartet (or the second time I’ve heard them). I’d probably attend again, especially if I had an opportunity to know a little bit more about what would be on the program. Once again, though, I’m glad I had this experience.

ConcertMeister

String Sextets (10/25/14)

Saturday (10/25/14) saw my second visit to the Chamber Music at Rodeph Sholom series. This one was interesting because of the juxtaposition of a pair of string sextets—one a New York premiere and one an established piece (though it was new to me). The program began with a flute solo.

Syrinx, L. 129 (1913) – Claude Debussy (1862–1918)
Saratoga Sextet (2014) A Day in the Life of an Artist – Eliot Bailen (1955–)
Souvenir de Florence (1890) Sextet in D minor for strings, Op. 70 – Piotr Ilyich Tchaikovsky (1840–1893)

Susan Rotholz, (flute); Jill Levy and Doori Na (violin); Sarah Adams and Michael Roth (viola); Eliot Bailen and Lindy Clark (cello)

Syrinx was a very good choice for a curtain raiser—brief, at times haunting, and beautiful. It brings to mind the opening of L’après midi d’un faun, and it set a nice mood of anticipation.
Mr. Bailen took a few moments to talk about his composition before the piece and after, as well. The three movements were: I. Beginnings; II. Inspiration; and III. Drive. Even after the explanation that the second movement segued directly into the third, I was unable to distinguish the transition. According to audience comments afterward, I was not alone.

The first movement was serene and slightly amorphous to begin with. There were modern harmonies, but not necessarily sharp dissonances, that soon flowed into a dance-like section—a jig or a reel, slightly off track. There were harmonies that recalled Aaron Copland, and the music petered away into nothingness. The second began with very pretty chords, chorale like over an ostinato bass line. (My notes actually said “heartbeat.”) Once again, there were dissonances, but they made sense, eventually (third movement?) leading to different sections and episodes, finishing strongly. It was a pleasant and interesting piece and, as always, it’s worthwhile to hear new compositions, and to have some insight from the composer. Fun stuff.

The Tchaikovsky sextet’s first movement (Allegro con spirito) jumped right into what sounded like a very rhythmic, oddly strident Slavic dance, but I think that was the intent, then a very pretty violin solo led to a warm section and a dramatic section, slightly lengthy but definitely listenable. Adagio cantabile e con moto had a lush opening—violin solo against pizzicato accompaniment—followed by melodies passed back and forth to the cellos and violas that were lush and romantic throughout. (I actually wrote an aside in my notes at this point to check the dates of Tchaikovsky’s Serenade for Strings because I was hearing either paraphrases from it, or the Serenade borrowed from this score. It turns out that the Serenade is a good ten years younger.) The second movement continued (and it was lengthy, approximately twice as long as the opening movement) with a mysterious mood, with bursts of power and musical phrases, and various solos woven together into a true chamber music feel. I also felt that I was hearing more echoes of the Serenade, haunting and almost mournful. Both the Allegro moderato and the Allegro con brio e vivace featured strong dance rhythms, strong tutti writing, and while the third movement’s minor key was predominant, it couldn’t quite drown out the exuberance of the writing. The fourth movement, along with the third, seemed to be heavily influenced by folk tunes and folk dances, and finished quite strongly. I’m very glad that I got to hear this work, as it reminded me so much of the Serenade, which is one of my favorite works.

The playing was top notch for the entire concert—I’ll keep on the lookout for more of this series, and I’ll keep you posted as I can.

ConcertMeister