Carnegie Hall Neighborhood Concerts (2/22 & 28/15)

I can’t sing the praises of the Carnegie Hall Neighborhood Concerts enough—free concerts in all five boroughs ranging from classical to jazz, to children’s concerts, etc. More on singing later, however.

Sunday, February 22, found me in Brooklyn at the Brooklyn Public Library, Central Library, for the Calder Quartet (Ben Jacobson, violin; Andrew Bulbrook, violin; Jonathan Moerschel, viola; and Eric Byers, cello). The venue there has the audience in darkness, so jotting notes was not possible. There were three works on the program.

Sabina (2008–2009) – Andrew Norman (b. 1979)
Arcadiana for String Quartet, Op. 12 (1994) – Thomas Adès (b. 1971)
String Quartet in F Major (1902–1903), Allegro moderato: Très doux; Assez vif: Très rhythmé; Très lent; Vif et agité – Maurice Ravel (1875–1937)

Taking the last first, the Ravel was very modern sounding, and probably seemed incredibly modern for its time, with its use of disjointed phrases, dissonances, and playing techniques that included repeated motifs tossed from player to player, and not always at the same time. So, somewhat jumbled. Still, I liked the work, and the four movements were clear as to their beginnings, middles, and ends. I went for the last first because of the way it demonstrated those various techniques. Arcadiana had seven movements, but it was pretty much impossible to tell one from the others. So, fairly jumbled. And where the strange new techniques in the Ravel worked pretty well, the same could not be said for the Adès. And those same techniques were used and splintered even more in the opening work. So, we heard very strange techniques in the first two works and then the genesis of those techniques in the Ravel, where they made much more sense. It was an interesting afternoon, with the Ravel being my favorite of the three works.

Saturday, February 28, found me on the Upper West Side for a vocal recital by Andrew Haji, tenor, with Liz Upchurch, piano. Both artists are associated with the Canadian Opera Company Ensemble Studio, Mr. Haji as a member and Ms. Upchurch as music director. The program notes refer to Mr. Haji’s “bright, clear tone ... and Italianate voice,” and both were on display Saturday.

S’il est un charmant gazon; Oh! Quand je dors (Élégie Etienne Monnier); Enfant, si j’étais roi – Franz Liszt (1811–1886)
Dichterliebe, Op. 48 – Robert Schumann (1810–1856)
Oliver Cromwell, Vol. 1, No. 7; Down by the Salley Gardens; O Waly, Waly; The Foggy, Foggy Dew, Vol. 3, No. 5 – Benjamin Britten (1913–1976)
O sole mio – Eduardo di Capua (1865–1917)
Torna a Surriento – Ernesto de Curtis (1875–1937)
L’alba sepàra dalla luce l’ombra – Paolo Tosti (1846–1916)

My notes for the first of the French chansons remarked on the very pretty voice and very sensitive accompaniment. Both of those carried through the entire recital. The second had an almost mystical quality, while the third was livelier and ended very prettily.

Dichterliebe is a sixteen-song cycle dealing with a young man’s finding love, finding the love not only not returned, but given to another man, and eventually totally resigned to the fact that it will never be. Mr. Haji’s arc through the cycle was very good. There were a few spots (mostly in his lower register) where the brightness of his voice didn’t quite come through, and he was slightly overpowered by the accompaniment, although that might also have been due to the acoustics in the church. This was, according to him, the first time he’d performed the entire cycle; he did an admirable job—and it was all from memory.

The Britten songs were interesting, and Mr. Haji’s diction here, as in the French and German, was very good. But the actual setting of the text in the first song made it difficult to understand. The second, Down by the Salley Gardens, was quite pleasant. O Waly, Waly (“The water is wide I cannot get o’er”) was a traditional version of the text and tune, with a varied and intricate accompaniment. Of the four English songs, I found this to be the most successful. The Foggy, Foggy Dew had a nicely done touch of humor.

O sole mio and Surriento were described as ‘lollipops’, and that’s exactly what they were. They’re so familiar that they could have come off as trite, but he played it straight and they turned out just fine. The third ‘lollipop’ was in the same vein, but its lack of familiarity made it the most enjoyable of the three, for me. As an encore, he sang Una furtive lagrima from Donizetti’s L’elisir d’amore.

A very pleasant late afternoon recital well sung and well played.

ConcertMeister