Saturday’s enjoyable song recital was part of the Neighborhood Concerts, presented by Carnegie Hall. This particular series of concerts is also part of the Marilyn Horne legacy at Carnegie Hall, though Ms. Horne was not in attendance.
Pioggia – Ottorino Respighi (1879–1936)
Malinconia, ninfa gentile; Vanne, o rosa fortunata; Ma rendi pur contento – Vincenzo Bellini (1801–1835)
Nebbie – Respighi
At the Railway Station, Upway; Sally in our Alley; At the mid hour of night; Sail on, sail on – Benjamin Britten (1913–1976)
Sonetto XXIV: Spirito ben nato, from Seven Sonnets of Michelangelo, Op. 22 – Britten
Pace non trovo, from Tre sonetti di Petrarca, S. 270 – Franz Liszt (1811–1886)
Una furtive lagrima, from L’elisir d’amore – Gaetano Donizetti (1797–1848)
Soupir; Phidylé – Henri Duparc (1848–1933)
Hébé, Op. 2, No. 6 – Ernest Chausson (1855–1899)
L’heure exsquise, from Chansons grises – Reynaldo Hahn (1874–1947)
Down in the river to pray – Traditional
Smoke gets in your eyes – Jerome Kern (1885–1945)
Orange Colored Sky – Milton Delugg (1918–2015); Willie Stein (1917–2009)
I really liked Ben Bliss’ nice, clear sound, and Lachlan Glen provided great support (in fact collaboration for/with both of them) throughout the entire concert. The opening Respighi had a rippling accompaniment and the song was almost, but not quite, operatic. And very enjoyable. I was completely unfamiliar with Respighi as a song composer (more on that later). All three of the Bellini songs were also very good, with Vanne, o rosa fortunata being my favorite. The second Respighi song had a bell-like accompaniment and effective vocal lines of essentially ascending and descending phrases, up the scale and back down.
After a short break, the four Britten songs were sung—sort of a cobbled together song cycle, according to Mr. Bliss. At the Railway Station made good use of the Thomas Hardy text, and had touches of jazz and broken phrases, but there were also recognizable (to me) Britten touchstones. Sally in our Alley had a folk song feel, with some vocal filigree and a very charming ending. At the mid hour of night was a straightforward setting of two verses of text that were subdued but still full of love. Sail on, sail on had a rocking rhythm—a rocking boat, that is—and the text spoke of a journey that continues on sea or land. There was a lovely fading away of the accompaniment at the end.
After another short break, Britten’s Sonetto opened with solo piano followed by an a cappella section for the tenor. There was a nice building of tension followed by a formidable and dramatic denouement. The Liszt (another composer whose song output was completely unknown to me) was a hybrid of Romantic, Classical, and Lieder that morphed into an operatic-style treatise on love.
Donizetti’s aria, which was actually familiar to me, opened the second half of the concert, and it was a good rendition. The Duparc, Chausson, and Hahn songs were all pleasant, if a bit too much the same in terms of style and sentiment, and they paled a bit after the Donizetti. The order of the beginning of the second half of the concert is (almost) my only quibble with the entire afternoon.
The traditional spiritual that followed a brief break was also totally unfamiliar to me, and was interesting, if a little simple. Also, I’m not sure I heard all of the lyrics correctly or whether Mr. Bliss perhaps didn’t sing them correctly—they were printed in the program and displayed as supertitles. That said, Mr. Bliss’ singing in the various languages presented—Italian, French, and English—was very good, and I always appreciate good clear diction when hearing English being sung.
Smoke gets in your eyes and Orange Colored Sky veered into pseudo-cabaret/pop/jazz style, and I felt that maybe both performers were trying a bit too hard to shed the mantle of serious performers. I like a bit of fun now and then, myself, but these last two songs seemed slightly too forced, in terms of styling. Once again, just a minor quibble.
A selection from The Queen of Sheba was sung as an encore, in French, I believe, and my quick Yahoo! search yields operas by both Charles Gounod and Reynaldo Hahn, so I’m not really sure what I heard. It was pleasant and relatively brief. The audience seemed to want more, so Messrs. Bliss and Glen reprised the Donizetti aria. I must confess that I exited as it was beginning; I did not feel the need to hear it again. But I really did like the entire performance, quibbles aside, and I think that Mr. Bliss has a voice that will be heard more and more in the future. [Edited to add: He will be performing at the Metropolitan Opera on Saturday night, April 30, 2016.]
Twofer Time
I also attended a screening of Max Roach Studio silent comedies earlier in the afternoon and had a thoroughly wonderful, laugh-out-loud time. Lots to do, see, and hear in NYC, and I’m very grateful for that!
ConcertMeister
Friday, March 18, 2016
Thursday, March 10, 2016
She Walks in Beauty (3/5/16)
Songs by Women Composers
Aram Tchobanian, tenor; Tamara Cashour, pianist; with special guest
Alma Hamilton, composer/pianist
Aram Tchobanian has a pleasant voice, but was slightly under the weather on Saturday afternoon (in fact, one song was dropped from the program). In honor of International Women’s Month, he curated and performed this event with music from the 9th through the 21st centuries—all by women composers. The earliest, by Kassia and Hildegard von Bingen (1098–1179), were snippets of a cappella chant, as a precursor to Gregorian chant. Throughout the afternoon, he peppered the performance with interesting snippets of conversation.
Next we heard O Deathe, rock me asleep, by Anne Boleyn (1501–1536) — yes, the Anne Boleyn of Henry VIII infamy. The song had an ethereal, simple quality, with effective accompaniment, reminiscent of John Dowland. Names I knew followed, in Clara Wieck Schumann (1819–1896) and Fanny Mendelssohn Hensel (1805–1847). Interestingly, it was recounted that some of Fanny Mendelssohn’s output appeared as the work of her brother, Felix, and that early on in the marriage of Clara to Robert Schumann, he was referred to as Mr. Wieck. Her music was better known at the time. Both works, Lorelei (Schumann) and Verlust (Hensel) were firmly in the dramatic lieder style, and both quite enjoyable.
Pauline Viardot-Garcia (1821–1910) was represented by Madrid, with a definite feel for Spain, in the rhythms and motifs, though with a text set in French. A Scottish feel was provided via Marjory Kennedy-Fraser (1857–1930) and her The Peat-Fire Flame, Aignish on the Machair, and The Reiving Ship. The first had a folk song feel to it, while the accompaniment for the second was like gentle, pealing bells—indeed, the text dealt with coming to terms with death. After a ringing cell phone was silenced (really, people? really?), The Reiving Ship was an energetic setting of the text.
A sing-along followed, and was even fun! Nora Bayes (1880–1928) was responsible for the music to Shine On, Harvest Moon. Mr. Tchobanian sang the verses and we joined in on the chorus. Who knew that the original lyrics were, “I ain’t had no lovin’ since April, January, June or July.” I certainly didn’t. Nameless, by Sirvart Karamanuk (1912–2008) was in the style of an Armenian folk song, as Mr. Tchobanian, who is Armenian, informed us.
Episodes, by Alma Hamilton (b. 1947), was a nice song cycle—She Walks in Beauty; To Citriodora; Go, Lovely Rose; Never Give All the Heart;
Oh, When I Was in Love with You—that went from gentle and effective, through to energetic and then jarring, but ending rather brightly, with the message that even in rejection, there is no dejection.
Jacqueline Steiner (b. 1924) and Bess Lomax Hawes (1923–2009) rounded out the afternoon with another sing-along (not familiar to me). Charlie on the M.T.A. (The M.T.A. Song) was apparently popularized by the Kingston Trio. It was a rather humorous account of a fare increase on the Boston subway, where, in order to get off of the subway if you took an outlying route, you had to pay an extra nickel. Alas, poor Charlie never could. My favorite verse was:
“Charlie’s wife goes down / To the Scollay Square station / Every day at quarter past two;
And through the open window / She hands Charlie a sandwich / As the train comes rumblin’ through.”
All in all, it was a really enjoyable, and informative, afternoon, and a great way to celebrate International Women’s Month.
Aram Tchobanian, tenor; Tamara Cashour, pianist; with special guest
Alma Hamilton, composer/pianist
Aram Tchobanian has a pleasant voice, but was slightly under the weather on Saturday afternoon (in fact, one song was dropped from the program). In honor of International Women’s Month, he curated and performed this event with music from the 9th through the 21st centuries—all by women composers. The earliest, by Kassia and Hildegard von Bingen (1098–1179), were snippets of a cappella chant, as a precursor to Gregorian chant. Throughout the afternoon, he peppered the performance with interesting snippets of conversation.
Next we heard O Deathe, rock me asleep, by Anne Boleyn (1501–1536) — yes, the Anne Boleyn of Henry VIII infamy. The song had an ethereal, simple quality, with effective accompaniment, reminiscent of John Dowland. Names I knew followed, in Clara Wieck Schumann (1819–1896) and Fanny Mendelssohn Hensel (1805–1847). Interestingly, it was recounted that some of Fanny Mendelssohn’s output appeared as the work of her brother, Felix, and that early on in the marriage of Clara to Robert Schumann, he was referred to as Mr. Wieck. Her music was better known at the time. Both works, Lorelei (Schumann) and Verlust (Hensel) were firmly in the dramatic lieder style, and both quite enjoyable.
Pauline Viardot-Garcia (1821–1910) was represented by Madrid, with a definite feel for Spain, in the rhythms and motifs, though with a text set in French. A Scottish feel was provided via Marjory Kennedy-Fraser (1857–1930) and her The Peat-Fire Flame, Aignish on the Machair, and The Reiving Ship. The first had a folk song feel to it, while the accompaniment for the second was like gentle, pealing bells—indeed, the text dealt with coming to terms with death. After a ringing cell phone was silenced (really, people? really?), The Reiving Ship was an energetic setting of the text.
A sing-along followed, and was even fun! Nora Bayes (1880–1928) was responsible for the music to Shine On, Harvest Moon. Mr. Tchobanian sang the verses and we joined in on the chorus. Who knew that the original lyrics were, “I ain’t had no lovin’ since April, January, June or July.” I certainly didn’t. Nameless, by Sirvart Karamanuk (1912–2008) was in the style of an Armenian folk song, as Mr. Tchobanian, who is Armenian, informed us.
Episodes, by Alma Hamilton (b. 1947), was a nice song cycle—She Walks in Beauty; To Citriodora; Go, Lovely Rose; Never Give All the Heart;
Oh, When I Was in Love with You—that went from gentle and effective, through to energetic and then jarring, but ending rather brightly, with the message that even in rejection, there is no dejection.
Jacqueline Steiner (b. 1924) and Bess Lomax Hawes (1923–2009) rounded out the afternoon with another sing-along (not familiar to me). Charlie on the M.T.A. (The M.T.A. Song) was apparently popularized by the Kingston Trio. It was a rather humorous account of a fare increase on the Boston subway, where, in order to get off of the subway if you took an outlying route, you had to pay an extra nickel. Alas, poor Charlie never could. My favorite verse was:
“Charlie’s wife goes down / To the Scollay Square station / Every day at quarter past two;
And through the open window / She hands Charlie a sandwich / As the train comes rumblin’ through.”
All in all, it was a really enjoyable, and informative, afternoon, and a great way to celebrate International Women’s Month.
Monday, March 7, 2016
Songbook (2/29/16)
Featuring Composer/Lyricist Nick Luckenbaugh
February’s edition was pretty good—but not boffo. I liked some of the concepts, many of which dealt with fairy tales and princesses, though not all of them hit the mark. And compositionally, there was a bit of a sameness—starting the song fairly low in the singer’s range, sitting around there for a couple of phrases and then expanding the range and power. It just seemed too hard to get the songs off the ground this way. As always, this is just my opinion. There were some top-notch performers, all of whom were volunteering their time, quite a few on their evenings off from their current Broadway gigs. With 17 songs on the program, here are some of my highlights.
Up Here, from Royal Fables, and sung by Theresa Burns, was a take on Rapunzel that was her account of hearing all of nature, and the differences between being up in her tower as opposed to being down on the ground. It had a nice a cappella opening that then built into a light rock style. Also from Royal Fables, and sung here by Kacie Sheik, How Love Should Go was interesting, if a little too country for me. The affectation of singing country often leads to the text being sort of chewed up (vowels being manipulated) making the lyrics hard to understand, especially on a first hearing. Some of the fables were not as well known to me, including The Twelve Dancing Princesses, which was represented by Demon Dance, performed here by Madeline Fansler. It was a very effective dark waltz of seduction.
A stand-alone song, Baxter, sung by Daniel Everidge, was the story of a Hollywood actor who everyone forgets. Everybody knows Cary Grant and Jimmy Stewart, and then there’s Baxter, whose lyrics and sentiments were encapsulated in, “Always silver, never gold for me.” But what’s this? A turnaround? Hey! A Baxter can win! Mr. Everidge was a terrific performer who also shone earlier in the program in The Seduction. Alas, my notes only say, “Fun, nice performance.”
Unravel You was based on a Russian fairy tale where a princess is essentially previewing possible husbands, yet no one seems to make the final cut. It was a power ballad but with a fun, rock-style rhythm. As sung by Ali Stroker, this was a princess who was totally in charge.
The finale, of sorts, was from a Norwegian fairy tale, East of the Sun and West of the Moon. World’s End was sung by Kathleen Monteleone (with Theresa Burns, Madeline Fansler, and Raina Helen Fraley) and was a return to country/rock style, in a song that spoke of facing adversity but never giving up. The backup singers had some nice harmonies in the more rousing sections—even including the good ol’ audience participation clap-along portion (not my favorite).
The accompaniments included piano, percussion, and guitar. Not being a huge fan of guitar, this may have been one of the reasons that I wasn't bowled over. Songbook is always an enjoyable evening, but this one didn’t make it for me as compared to many of the previous iterations I’ve attended. I’ll definitely be going back, though, because it’s always good to hear new composers and ideas.
ConcertMeister
February’s edition was pretty good—but not boffo. I liked some of the concepts, many of which dealt with fairy tales and princesses, though not all of them hit the mark. And compositionally, there was a bit of a sameness—starting the song fairly low in the singer’s range, sitting around there for a couple of phrases and then expanding the range and power. It just seemed too hard to get the songs off the ground this way. As always, this is just my opinion. There were some top-notch performers, all of whom were volunteering their time, quite a few on their evenings off from their current Broadway gigs. With 17 songs on the program, here are some of my highlights.
Up Here, from Royal Fables, and sung by Theresa Burns, was a take on Rapunzel that was her account of hearing all of nature, and the differences between being up in her tower as opposed to being down on the ground. It had a nice a cappella opening that then built into a light rock style. Also from Royal Fables, and sung here by Kacie Sheik, How Love Should Go was interesting, if a little too country for me. The affectation of singing country often leads to the text being sort of chewed up (vowels being manipulated) making the lyrics hard to understand, especially on a first hearing. Some of the fables were not as well known to me, including The Twelve Dancing Princesses, which was represented by Demon Dance, performed here by Madeline Fansler. It was a very effective dark waltz of seduction.
A stand-alone song, Baxter, sung by Daniel Everidge, was the story of a Hollywood actor who everyone forgets. Everybody knows Cary Grant and Jimmy Stewart, and then there’s Baxter, whose lyrics and sentiments were encapsulated in, “Always silver, never gold for me.” But what’s this? A turnaround? Hey! A Baxter can win! Mr. Everidge was a terrific performer who also shone earlier in the program in The Seduction. Alas, my notes only say, “Fun, nice performance.”
Unravel You was based on a Russian fairy tale where a princess is essentially previewing possible husbands, yet no one seems to make the final cut. It was a power ballad but with a fun, rock-style rhythm. As sung by Ali Stroker, this was a princess who was totally in charge.
The finale, of sorts, was from a Norwegian fairy tale, East of the Sun and West of the Moon. World’s End was sung by Kathleen Monteleone (with Theresa Burns, Madeline Fansler, and Raina Helen Fraley) and was a return to country/rock style, in a song that spoke of facing adversity but never giving up. The backup singers had some nice harmonies in the more rousing sections—even including the good ol’ audience participation clap-along portion (not my favorite).
The accompaniments included piano, percussion, and guitar. Not being a huge fan of guitar, this may have been one of the reasons that I wasn't bowled over. Songbook is always an enjoyable evening, but this one didn’t make it for me as compared to many of the previous iterations I’ve attended. I’ll definitely be going back, though, because it’s always good to hear new composers and ideas.
ConcertMeister
Wednesday, March 2, 2016
Send in the Clowns (2/26/16)
The silent clowns, that is. Saturday afternoon at the movies featured four silent films, all starring Max Davidson (who was totally new to me).
Call of the Cuckoo (1927)
Should Second Husbands Come First? (1927)
Flaming Fathers (1927)
Pass the Gravy (1928)
From the program notes, I learned that Max Davidson was well into middle age when he came into his own in Hollywood, and didn’t have the grace of a Chaplin, nor the ability to do stunts and falls like Keaton. His comedic focus was his face and shoulders. At first, I feared that some of his bag-of-tricks shtick would be too repetitive, but that turned out not to be the case. In all four films, the settings and situations were part of what made them so funny. And they were laugh out loud funny quite often. I especially enjoyed Call of the Cuckoo, which featured an early teaming of Laurel and Hardy as half of a foursome of real kooks (hence the Cuckoo in the title). And Ben Model, providing live piano accompaniment, made ample use of the cuckoo-clock motif throughout. Even the sets were funny in this one!
Should Second Husbands Come First? featured Spec O’Donnell, who was also in Cuckoo and Pass the Gravy. He and his brother were trying to stop a man, Davidson, from marrying their widowed mother. They had quite a few sight gags going on behind their mother’s back, designed to scare off the new suitor. Lots of funny goings on.
Flaming Fathers had Davidson getting into quite a lot of trouble at the beach, while trying to keep his daughter from eloping. At one point, there were about twenty little kids following him around through a series of sight gags. It was like Keystone Kids instead of Keystone Kops.
Pass the Gravy centered on a prize-winning rooster who ended up being dinner. Everybody, except for the owner of the rooster, realized that the dinner was the prize winner, and then tried to keep the owner from finding out. It did not work, but lots of funny stuff led up to that final realization.
So, four comedies starring a relatively big Hollywood name of the silent era. One I’d never heard of. Boy, I’m glad I have now. Bruce Lawton spoke warmly about the star of the day, Steve Massa’s program notes were very informative, and
Mr. Model provided the superb accompaniments. Kudos to the Silent Clowns Film Series. Check out their website – www.silentclowns.com – if you’re so inclined.
ConcertMeister
(or, in this case, FilmMeister)
Call of the Cuckoo (1927)
Should Second Husbands Come First? (1927)
Flaming Fathers (1927)
Pass the Gravy (1928)
From the program notes, I learned that Max Davidson was well into middle age when he came into his own in Hollywood, and didn’t have the grace of a Chaplin, nor the ability to do stunts and falls like Keaton. His comedic focus was his face and shoulders. At first, I feared that some of his bag-of-tricks shtick would be too repetitive, but that turned out not to be the case. In all four films, the settings and situations were part of what made them so funny. And they were laugh out loud funny quite often. I especially enjoyed Call of the Cuckoo, which featured an early teaming of Laurel and Hardy as half of a foursome of real kooks (hence the Cuckoo in the title). And Ben Model, providing live piano accompaniment, made ample use of the cuckoo-clock motif throughout. Even the sets were funny in this one!
Should Second Husbands Come First? featured Spec O’Donnell, who was also in Cuckoo and Pass the Gravy. He and his brother were trying to stop a man, Davidson, from marrying their widowed mother. They had quite a few sight gags going on behind their mother’s back, designed to scare off the new suitor. Lots of funny goings on.
Flaming Fathers had Davidson getting into quite a lot of trouble at the beach, while trying to keep his daughter from eloping. At one point, there were about twenty little kids following him around through a series of sight gags. It was like Keystone Kids instead of Keystone Kops.
Pass the Gravy centered on a prize-winning rooster who ended up being dinner. Everybody, except for the owner of the rooster, realized that the dinner was the prize winner, and then tried to keep the owner from finding out. It did not work, but lots of funny stuff led up to that final realization.
So, four comedies starring a relatively big Hollywood name of the silent era. One I’d never heard of. Boy, I’m glad I have now. Bruce Lawton spoke warmly about the star of the day, Steve Massa’s program notes were very informative, and
Mr. Model provided the superb accompaniments. Kudos to the Silent Clowns Film Series. Check out their website – www.silentclowns.com – if you’re so inclined.
ConcertMeister
(or, in this case, FilmMeister)
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