Well, that's quite a mouthful! Pianist Daniel Beliavsky began the evening by tossing that title right out the window, as he said that after having created it months earlier, he realized that it would probably take at least five lecture recitals to fully cover the subject. Instead, he focused on how the listener reacts to tonality, especially the much simpler relationships between tension and resolution of harmony and tonality. I’ve heard Mr. Beliavsky in the past, and I’ve always liked how his recitals have a touch of the lecture recital about them. As an expanded version of that, this was good, but almost a little too formal for me. I guess I just prefer lecture recital lite. [Full disclosure—I have heard Dr. (Ph.D) Beliavsky play some of these pieces (and parts thereof) previously. I actually did a search of my own blog.]
Ballad in Yellow – David Del Tredici (b. 1937)
Impromptu, Op. 90, No. 3 – Franz Schubert (1797–1828)
Prelude, Op. 3, No. 2; Prelude, Op. 23, No. 5 – Sergei Rachmaninoff
(1873–1943)
Etude, Op. 2, No. 1; Etude, Op.8, No. 12 – Alexander Scriabin (1872–1915)
Ballade, Op. 23, No. 1 – Frédéric Chopin (1810–1849)
Ballad in Yellow was sort of a wash of sounds, with phrases that were recognizable as tunes. While mostly gentle, there were a few more dramatic moments, with a fairly extensive louder, powerful section, finishing with a totally tonal solid chord. In true lecture-recital style, Mr. Beliavsky then discussed the work. It turns out that it is a transcription of a song written by Mr. Del Tredici. Ha! I knew that those phrases were recognizable as tunes—they were tunes. He then played the piece a second time, with a suggestion beforehand that knowing more about the piece might enhance or change our understanding of it. I stuck with my original impressions. Before continuing with the program as printed, Mr. Beliavsky provided examples of the previously discussed tension/resolution/tonality situation by playing a part of J.S. Bach’s Prelude in C Major, which made his case in rather clear-cut fashion.
Schubert’s impromptu was also song-like with a gentle, running, almost perpetual motion accompaniment. An increase in the energy level was brought about via increasing volume and darker harmonies. Subtitled The Bells of Moscow, the first of the Rachmaninoff preludes on the program had a definite sound of tolling bells with chimes-style filigree above. The increase in both tempo and number of notes in the right hand created a very powerful feeling throughout. In remarks from the stage, Mr. Beliavsky stated that he had added octaves to the tolling bells feature. Then in mock shock, he pretended to be us and asked, “How dare you change Rachmaninoff’s composition?” Answering as himself, he told us that since that was something that Rachmaninoff was known to do with some regularity, he felt perfectly justified. Departing once again from the printed program, he played snippets of Mussorgsky’s Pictures at an Exhibition, to further cement home the power of bells as a theme in Russian Romantic music. The second prelude that he played was very nice and a bit more fully developed as a composition.
Both of the Scriabin etudes were solidly in the Romantic harmonies vein, but with a bit of stretching of those harmonies to give a hint of Scriabin’s mysticism-tinged qualities. And bells were a recurring theme here, as well. The Chopin is a work that I’ve heard several times (even played by Mr. Beliavsky), and it’s such a joy to listen to that I mostly did so and took very few notes. As I have before, I’d suggest that you do a Youtube search—you’ll probably get lots of hits. Even if you only listen to a bit of it, I think you’ll like, and possibly recognize, it. It began with only octaves at the opening, and then introduced a purely Romantic theme with some chromaticism. It moved easily between bombast and lyricism, displaying a vast difference that somehow all made sense. The very appreciative audience responded with a hearty ovation. This is one performer I keep my eye out for each year.
ConcertMeister
Bonus post (11/15/15)
On the penultimate day of the design competition and exhibition, I visited Canstruction, which challenges teams to build sculptures out of cans of food. There were 20+ exhibits—some of my favorites included a Top Hat, an eight-foot-tall Butterfly, one sculpture titled What’s Up, Doc?, a replica of the well-known Grand Central Terminal clock (the four clock faces themselves, not the entire structure), and a piece titled Good Etiquette Is CANtagious. The last was a sculpture of a bus or subway car. On one side, a figure was seated with obvious “man spread” while on the other side, the seated figure had knees closer together, with personal items on the lap. Not really among my favorites was a Republican Presidential contender piece that displayed Donald Trump on one side and Kanye West on the other. I guess it appealed more to my wordplay fun side, with Republican and Kanye.
Okay, now, here’s one of the really good parts. On Monday the 16th, all of the sculptures were dismantled, with the cans of food being donated to City Harvest to help fight hunger! We’re talking lots and lots of food. Some individual sculptures had upward of 7,000+ cans each. I would say that tuna and sardines constituted about 50%, but tomatoes, pumpkin, green beans, black/kidney/cannellini beans and chickpeas were also represented.
It was quite a trek for me to get to the southern end of Manhattan, way over on the West Side (230 Vesey Street, on the Hudson waterfront) on a windy Sunday, but it was totally worth it. It’s one more thing to keep my eye out for next year.
CM
Friday, November 20, 2015
Thursday, November 12, 2015
Cantus (11/8/15)
Sunday evening, I attended a concert that was part of the Carnegie Hall Neighborhood Concert series, a series of free concerts in all five boroughs under the auspices of Carnegie Hall. I almost talked myself out of going (it’s a bit of a trek up to 187th Street on the West Side for a concert beginning at 5:00 p.m.) but I’m glad that I went. Cantus is an all-male a cappella ensemble that sang a program of mostly modern and contemporary classical music. It’s sort of a take on the King’s Singers, except in the case of Cantus there are no countertenors. The group consists of five tenors, two baritones, and two basses. I’ll concentrate on the highlights, since they sang seventeen (mostly short) pieces.
The concert kicked off with But Beautiful (1947), by Jimmy Van Heusen, a close harmony piece that reminded me of groups like the Modernaires. Performing without a conductor, Cantus’ vocal blend and control of phrasing and tempos is quite good, if a little odd. Individual singers tend to gaze at one another to achieve unity. It works—it’s just a little odd. Ludwig van Beethoven’s Abschiedsgesang (1814) followed. It opened with a trio, followed shortly by a section for a sextet, before concluding with all nine singers.
When I Would Muse, from Housman Songs (1982), by Richard Peaslee, was next. It was a straightforward setting of text in a solid choral setting, with a few modern harmonies. The choral setting referenced above is sort of like an English choir school sound—not necessarily total straight tone singing, but very little vibrato so that the chords and various individual lines ring true, if that makes any sense. That was the style of many pieces on the program, and it’s one that I happen to like a great deal. An Arnold Schoenberg piece, Verbundenheit, Op. 35,
No. 6 (1929), was sung by just four of the singers. Par for the course, it was very modern sounding, with some jarring harmonies that periodically resolved to clear, tonal locked chords.
All nine were back on stage for a very touching Last Letter Home (2006) by
Lee Hoiby. The text was by United States Army Private First-Class Jesse Givens (1969–2003), and ended with, “Do me one favor, after you tuck the children in, give them hugs and kisses from me. Go outside and look at the stars and count them. Don’t forget to smile. Love Always, Your husband, Jess.”
Interspersed throughout the program were a few folk songs, including two by
A. R. Rahman. Wedding Qawwali and Zikr, both arranged by Ethan Sperry (2004) were accompanied by guitar, drums (one similar to a bongo and one a simple hand drum), and a three-pronged tambourine-like shaker—just the metal shaker parts. Both were energetic, with Zikr revving up with several tempo changes. The guitar was also used in a nice novelty number with close harmonies, Little Potato (1983), by Malcolm Dalglish. It alternated a tenor soloist with the group in various smaller sections. Sometimes just a few and sometimes all eight parrying with the soloist.
A trio of sacred songs was also included—Sim Shalom, from Two Hebraic Prayers in Memory of Solomon B. Freehof (1991), by Joseph Willcox Jenkins; Seigneur, je vous en prie, from Quatres petite prières de Saint François d’Assise (1948), by Francis Poulenc; and a shape note hymn, What Wondrous Love Is This. Also heard were pieces by Bobby Troup, Michael McGlynn, Eric Whitacre, Maura Bosch, and Ysaye Maria Barnwell.
A pseudo doo-wop song, Those Clouds Are Heavy, You Dig? (1995), by
Kurt Elling, was interesting and amusing, and I’m using both of those words literally. The text is based on a Rainer Maria Rilke short story, How the Thimble Came to Be God. The previously mentioned Zikr closed out the early evening performance. I’ve been to a few Carnegie Neighborhood Concerts at Our Savior’s Atonement Lutheran Church and, as noted by one of the hosts, this was definitely the most well attended that they’ve sponsored and that I’ve been to. And it was a very appreciative audience, as well. Cantus is based out of Minneapolis, so I don’t know whether I’ll have an opportunity to hear them live again. Their website is cantussings.org, if you want to check them out for yourselves.
The concert kicked off with But Beautiful (1947), by Jimmy Van Heusen, a close harmony piece that reminded me of groups like the Modernaires. Performing without a conductor, Cantus’ vocal blend and control of phrasing and tempos is quite good, if a little odd. Individual singers tend to gaze at one another to achieve unity. It works—it’s just a little odd. Ludwig van Beethoven’s Abschiedsgesang (1814) followed. It opened with a trio, followed shortly by a section for a sextet, before concluding with all nine singers.
When I Would Muse, from Housman Songs (1982), by Richard Peaslee, was next. It was a straightforward setting of text in a solid choral setting, with a few modern harmonies. The choral setting referenced above is sort of like an English choir school sound—not necessarily total straight tone singing, but very little vibrato so that the chords and various individual lines ring true, if that makes any sense. That was the style of many pieces on the program, and it’s one that I happen to like a great deal. An Arnold Schoenberg piece, Verbundenheit, Op. 35,
No. 6 (1929), was sung by just four of the singers. Par for the course, it was very modern sounding, with some jarring harmonies that periodically resolved to clear, tonal locked chords.
All nine were back on stage for a very touching Last Letter Home (2006) by
Lee Hoiby. The text was by United States Army Private First-Class Jesse Givens (1969–2003), and ended with, “Do me one favor, after you tuck the children in, give them hugs and kisses from me. Go outside and look at the stars and count them. Don’t forget to smile. Love Always, Your husband, Jess.”
Interspersed throughout the program were a few folk songs, including two by
A. R. Rahman. Wedding Qawwali and Zikr, both arranged by Ethan Sperry (2004) were accompanied by guitar, drums (one similar to a bongo and one a simple hand drum), and a three-pronged tambourine-like shaker—just the metal shaker parts. Both were energetic, with Zikr revving up with several tempo changes. The guitar was also used in a nice novelty number with close harmonies, Little Potato (1983), by Malcolm Dalglish. It alternated a tenor soloist with the group in various smaller sections. Sometimes just a few and sometimes all eight parrying with the soloist.
A trio of sacred songs was also included—Sim Shalom, from Two Hebraic Prayers in Memory of Solomon B. Freehof (1991), by Joseph Willcox Jenkins; Seigneur, je vous en prie, from Quatres petite prières de Saint François d’Assise (1948), by Francis Poulenc; and a shape note hymn, What Wondrous Love Is This. Also heard were pieces by Bobby Troup, Michael McGlynn, Eric Whitacre, Maura Bosch, and Ysaye Maria Barnwell.
A pseudo doo-wop song, Those Clouds Are Heavy, You Dig? (1995), by
Kurt Elling, was interesting and amusing, and I’m using both of those words literally. The text is based on a Rainer Maria Rilke short story, How the Thimble Came to Be God. The previously mentioned Zikr closed out the early evening performance. I’ve been to a few Carnegie Neighborhood Concerts at Our Savior’s Atonement Lutheran Church and, as noted by one of the hosts, this was definitely the most well attended that they’ve sponsored and that I’ve been to. And it was a very appreciative audience, as well. Cantus is based out of Minneapolis, so I don’t know whether I’ll have an opportunity to hear them live again. Their website is cantussings.org, if you want to check them out for yourselves.
Saturday, November 7, 2015
Hungarian Rhapsody (10/31/15)
Sarah E Geller (violin) and Wenhan Anderson (piano) performed a variety of pieces on Halloween afternoon. While all of the pieces had hints of gypsy themes, I didn’t quite get the fireworks that I was expecting.
Sonata No. 8 in G Major, Op. 30, No. 3 – Allegro assai; Tempo di Minuetto: ma molto moderato e grazioso; Rondo – Allegro molto – Ludwig van Beethoven (1770–1827)
Nocturne, Cortège – Lili Boulanger (1893–1918)
Sonate in g minor – Allegro vivo; Intermède: Fantasque et léger; Finale: Très animé – Claude Debussy (1862–1918)
Sonata in c# minor, Op. 21 – Allegro appassionato; Allegro ma con tenerezza; Vivace assai – Ernst von Dohnányi (1877–1960)
Tzigane, rhapsodie de concert – Maurice Ravel (1875–1937)
The first movement of the Beethoven began with bubbling runs for both violin and piano that were at times jaunty and at times darkly dramatic. Mostly, though, it was bright and energetic, interspersed with small islands of calm. The piano took the lead to start the second movement followed by a nice give and take back and forth. Indeed, it was very graceful and a true partnership. The last movement was energetic and once again very collaborative, although each player got a chance
to shine.
Ms. Geller retuned before the second grouping of pieces (in fact, she did a lot of retuning throughout the afternoon). An interesting little bit of information announced from the stage was that Lili Boulanger, younger sister of Nadia Boulanger, was the first woman to win the Prix de Rome, a very important competition, across various disciplines in the arts. Nocturne was gentle and contemplative, with an ostinato (repetitive) accompaniment, that then blossomed into fuller, richer sounds before returning to a calm ending. Cortège was perky, especially in the piano writing, with a nice mix of changing tempos.
Debussy’s first movement had short, fragmented ideas at the beginning, then some longer melodic lines, with shifting moods and a dramatic ending. The second movement was a mix of phrases, techniques and rhythms that could possibly be perceived as new and somewhat radical for the time (harmonically, too). The Finale was subdued at first, then picked up a lot of steam, and then bounced back and forth, in terms of mood. It was a nice piece that didn’t really seem to tie together
for me.
After intermission, the Dohnányi sonata had a rich, dark opening with some very expressive lines and themes. As mentioned from the stage, there were hints of Brahms that were then expanded upon. The movement was really very touching. The second movement was a little more energetic with a gently dancelike section followed by a touch of a gypsy theme. It was slightly segmented but did manage to fit together pretty well. After a couple of false endings, it finished with a cute pizzicato real ending. The brisk start of the third movement included more hints of gypsy themes. A gentle section was then introduced by the piano, with the violin joining in. This was followed by another energetic section, one more quiet sequence, and then a tranquil ending.
Ravel’s rhapsodie de concert had a muscular, extended violin solo to begin with. The piano eventually joined in with a harp-like accompaniment. Then we finally got to the more tuneful portion of the music. If this sounds like a lot of jumping around, that’s exactly what it was. Not knowing a whole lot about the actual technique involved in playing the violin, this seemed to me to be technically very challenging—and Ms. Geller was up to the task (Ms. Anderson, too, at the piano). That said, the piece did not hold together for me very well at all. I wish I had liked
it better.
The concert was enjoyable. I just wish it had been a little more enjoyable. However, this was my first ever hearing of Lili Boulanger, and it’s quite possible that it was my first ever live hearing of Dohnányi. So I came away with two solid checkmarks in the ‘plus’ column. Not too shabby an achievement if I do say so myself.
ConcertMeister
Sonata No. 8 in G Major, Op. 30, No. 3 – Allegro assai; Tempo di Minuetto: ma molto moderato e grazioso; Rondo – Allegro molto – Ludwig van Beethoven (1770–1827)
Nocturne, Cortège – Lili Boulanger (1893–1918)
Sonate in g minor – Allegro vivo; Intermède: Fantasque et léger; Finale: Très animé – Claude Debussy (1862–1918)
Sonata in c# minor, Op. 21 – Allegro appassionato; Allegro ma con tenerezza; Vivace assai – Ernst von Dohnányi (1877–1960)
Tzigane, rhapsodie de concert – Maurice Ravel (1875–1937)
The first movement of the Beethoven began with bubbling runs for both violin and piano that were at times jaunty and at times darkly dramatic. Mostly, though, it was bright and energetic, interspersed with small islands of calm. The piano took the lead to start the second movement followed by a nice give and take back and forth. Indeed, it was very graceful and a true partnership. The last movement was energetic and once again very collaborative, although each player got a chance
to shine.
Ms. Geller retuned before the second grouping of pieces (in fact, she did a lot of retuning throughout the afternoon). An interesting little bit of information announced from the stage was that Lili Boulanger, younger sister of Nadia Boulanger, was the first woman to win the Prix de Rome, a very important competition, across various disciplines in the arts. Nocturne was gentle and contemplative, with an ostinato (repetitive) accompaniment, that then blossomed into fuller, richer sounds before returning to a calm ending. Cortège was perky, especially in the piano writing, with a nice mix of changing tempos.
Debussy’s first movement had short, fragmented ideas at the beginning, then some longer melodic lines, with shifting moods and a dramatic ending. The second movement was a mix of phrases, techniques and rhythms that could possibly be perceived as new and somewhat radical for the time (harmonically, too). The Finale was subdued at first, then picked up a lot of steam, and then bounced back and forth, in terms of mood. It was a nice piece that didn’t really seem to tie together
for me.
After intermission, the Dohnányi sonata had a rich, dark opening with some very expressive lines and themes. As mentioned from the stage, there were hints of Brahms that were then expanded upon. The movement was really very touching. The second movement was a little more energetic with a gently dancelike section followed by a touch of a gypsy theme. It was slightly segmented but did manage to fit together pretty well. After a couple of false endings, it finished with a cute pizzicato real ending. The brisk start of the third movement included more hints of gypsy themes. A gentle section was then introduced by the piano, with the violin joining in. This was followed by another energetic section, one more quiet sequence, and then a tranquil ending.
Ravel’s rhapsodie de concert had a muscular, extended violin solo to begin with. The piano eventually joined in with a harp-like accompaniment. Then we finally got to the more tuneful portion of the music. If this sounds like a lot of jumping around, that’s exactly what it was. Not knowing a whole lot about the actual technique involved in playing the violin, this seemed to me to be technically very challenging—and Ms. Geller was up to the task (Ms. Anderson, too, at the piano). That said, the piece did not hold together for me very well at all. I wish I had liked
it better.
The concert was enjoyable. I just wish it had been a little more enjoyable. However, this was my first ever hearing of Lili Boulanger, and it’s quite possible that it was my first ever live hearing of Dohnányi. So I came away with two solid checkmarks in the ‘plus’ column. Not too shabby an achievement if I do say so myself.
ConcertMeister
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