Ah, a story near and dear to my heart. I love the musical (and have performed in it many times). The silent film (1927) is based on the 1926 play (Maurine Watkins (Maurine Dallas Watkins for the musical)).
Where to begin? The silent film focuses on Roxie Hart (Phyllis Haver) and Billy Flynn (Robert Edeson), but gives a much larger role to Amos Hart (Victor Varconi).
Matron is there, as is an abbreviated Velma Kelly (all based on real people but with different names).
Roxie shoots and kills her lover. Amos stands by her, even offering to take the blame. Billy Flynn gets an acquittal. Roxie is eclipsed by "Two Gun Rosie" (a "Go-to-Hell Kitty" prototype?). But in this version (and the play, too?) Roxie ends up walking down the street, in the rain, seeing her headlines in the papers trampled and washed down the drain. Literally. Amos, who has stood by her throughout the trial, has had enough and throws her out into the street. Not nearly the "ha-cha" of the musical.
It was fascinating to see a property I knew on one level in the guise of its earlier state. I'd love to read the 1926 play. Apparently it was a major breakthrough for George Abbott, as a director. Who knew?
Interestingly, in preview remarks and a few of the post-viewing remarks I heard, Bruce Lawton kept referencing the 2002 film (makes sense, he's a film guy). But that version, even though I know and respect the director, is not my favorite; I vastly prefer the 1975 stage musical. Though, who knows? I might really prefer the 1926 play.
As usual, Ben Model provided a spot-on pianistic soundtrack and Steve Massa's program notes were interesting, as always. Also interesting was the "short." When films were sent to the local distributors, the local censors had thumbs-up/thumbs-down power, and there were snippets of film cut, from place to place. The "short" on the bill was a compilation of those snippets, so you got lots of flappers, some belly dancers, falls that tended to showed too much leg, and lots of stockings being unrolled (shocking, I tell you, shocking!). It was interesting though a little too much same-same. Still, it pointed us at censorship in all of its glories (hah!).
ConcertMeister
Saturday, November 19, 2016
Thursday, November 10, 2016
Juilliard 415 (11/2/16)
Courtesy of WQXR
This is part of a continuing series of highlighting Juilliard students in one-hour concerts at the Jerome L. Greene space. I'm such a fan that I've taken off the last two first Wednesdays of the month (and Dec. 7) to attend. These are free concerts, though an RSVP is required.
OK, I'm not going to copy 'n' paste every description/title/date, etc. I'll just hit the highlights and my reaction to those highlights.
Dario Castello's sonata (Venice, 1629), was a sextet, though I didn't scribble down all of the instruments. Described as a "madrigal without words," the solo violin was joined by a second violin, then the other four players joined in. One of which was a harpsichord. This is important, as harpsichords in the early baroque era were tuned to A 415 (as opposed to the more modern A 440–442), hence the moniker Juilliard 415. (You now have a trivia/Jeopardy answer/question in your back pocket. You're welcome.)
After a regrouping, we heard a piece by Giovanni Legrenzi (Venice, 1673) that was calm and almost somber after an opening of tutti performers (sorry, no printed program).
After another regrouping (I don't think any of the students played in more than one ensemble), we heard Alessandro Stradella's Trio in D minor (violin, cello, harpsichord). This was in a very different style—more disjointed—seemingly more modern/experimental. And here's something to cogitate on. We think of old/baroque/early music as, well, old/baroque/early. But some of it was truly experimental in its day. That said, some people may have been disappointed in it as much as I am disappointed listening to Philip Glass, but I digress. A fugal movement followed, swiftly followed by a dance-like third movement that was almost a sonata in itself.
Fourth on the program was another Castello piece from 1629, with two violins, viola da gamba, dulcian (new to me, I had to do an internet search), and theorbo (not new to me). A theorbo is like a lute on steroids—regular strings (I didn't count how many) and really, really long strings (six, seven feet long?). So you get two instruments in one. The piece started with a kitchen-sink style—everything thrown into the mix. That was followed by a duo (sort of, violins and theorbo) that was quite playful at times. The piece closed out with the full ensemble in a very rich, solid style. Oh, and the dulcian is a precursor to the bassoon.
A Tomaso Albinoni Trio in D minor followed (Venice, 1694) for baroque flute, violin, cello, and theorbo (maybe the same instrument? definitely different player). Here, the theorbo was used more rhythmically, including knocking on the wooden frame for percussion sounds.
The one-hour concert closed out with Antonio Vivaldi's Chamber Concerto in
G minor "La Notte" for baroque flute, bassoon, two violins, string bass and harpsichord. The harpsichord had more of a presence in this work, and there was plenty of layering of strings and other instruments to create forward energy, which one associates with Vivaldi (think Four Seasons). I mentioned to my seat mates that it would have been pretty cool to have all of the players come out for a brief orchestral work, as a grand finale. Alas, that did not happen.
Throughout the afternoon, different students gave us brief introductions to the pieces and all acquitted themselves quite well (with a few microphone malfunctions). All in all, a wonderful one-hour concert with erudite, well seasoned young performers. Thank you WQXR and Juilliard!
This is part of a continuing series of highlighting Juilliard students in one-hour concerts at the Jerome L. Greene space. I'm such a fan that I've taken off the last two first Wednesdays of the month (and Dec. 7) to attend. These are free concerts, though an RSVP is required.
OK, I'm not going to copy 'n' paste every description/title/date, etc. I'll just hit the highlights and my reaction to those highlights.
Dario Castello's sonata (Venice, 1629), was a sextet, though I didn't scribble down all of the instruments. Described as a "madrigal without words," the solo violin was joined by a second violin, then the other four players joined in. One of which was a harpsichord. This is important, as harpsichords in the early baroque era were tuned to A 415 (as opposed to the more modern A 440–442), hence the moniker Juilliard 415. (You now have a trivia/Jeopardy answer/question in your back pocket. You're welcome.)
After a regrouping, we heard a piece by Giovanni Legrenzi (Venice, 1673) that was calm and almost somber after an opening of tutti performers (sorry, no printed program).
After another regrouping (I don't think any of the students played in more than one ensemble), we heard Alessandro Stradella's Trio in D minor (violin, cello, harpsichord). This was in a very different style—more disjointed—seemingly more modern/experimental. And here's something to cogitate on. We think of old/baroque/early music as, well, old/baroque/early. But some of it was truly experimental in its day. That said, some people may have been disappointed in it as much as I am disappointed listening to Philip Glass, but I digress. A fugal movement followed, swiftly followed by a dance-like third movement that was almost a sonata in itself.
Fourth on the program was another Castello piece from 1629, with two violins, viola da gamba, dulcian (new to me, I had to do an internet search), and theorbo (not new to me). A theorbo is like a lute on steroids—regular strings (I didn't count how many) and really, really long strings (six, seven feet long?). So you get two instruments in one. The piece started with a kitchen-sink style—everything thrown into the mix. That was followed by a duo (sort of, violins and theorbo) that was quite playful at times. The piece closed out with the full ensemble in a very rich, solid style. Oh, and the dulcian is a precursor to the bassoon.
A Tomaso Albinoni Trio in D minor followed (Venice, 1694) for baroque flute, violin, cello, and theorbo (maybe the same instrument? definitely different player). Here, the theorbo was used more rhythmically, including knocking on the wooden frame for percussion sounds.
The one-hour concert closed out with Antonio Vivaldi's Chamber Concerto in
G minor "La Notte" for baroque flute, bassoon, two violins, string bass and harpsichord. The harpsichord had more of a presence in this work, and there was plenty of layering of strings and other instruments to create forward energy, which one associates with Vivaldi (think Four Seasons). I mentioned to my seat mates that it would have been pretty cool to have all of the players come out for a brief orchestral work, as a grand finale. Alas, that did not happen.
Throughout the afternoon, different students gave us brief introductions to the pieces and all acquitted themselves quite well (with a few microphone malfunctions). All in all, a wonderful one-hour concert with erudite, well seasoned young performers. Thank you WQXR and Juilliard!
Monday, November 7, 2016
Arts and Artists of Tomorr … ah the heck with it Songbook (10/31/16)
Looked great on paper. Songs from one show, Perfect Picture. Book and Lyrics: Ellen Bluestone Sherman; Music: Gail C. Sherman.
Good cast, including Mark Jacoby (Norman Rockwell), Lillias White (Actor A) [uh-oh!], Angel Desai (Actor B), and Crista Moore (Actor C). Actors A, B, and C [uh-oh!] were called upon to play wives, lovers, bosses, government employees, second wives, etc., which got a bit muddy, though the performances were all very good, in this concert version.
I hesitate to single out performances, but Mr. Jacoby projected just the right qualities of nebbish and newly conceived personality pretty well. Ms. White scored best in the somewhat recurring role of blues-y, jazz-y outside commentator.
The story arc followed Norman Rockwell through the rejection of his Four Freedoms project through to its successful completion. The road traveled didn’t quite do it for me. The sister team of composer/lyricist has a good feel and a good vibe. For me, though, there were too many songs that made me go, “Oh, that sounds like … and that’s like … .” They weren’t bad, for songs that were like other show-biz songs. I could walk you through each one, except for the fact that some of them blended into each other. Were they a medley? A montage? Two, three, or four mini songs that sounded similar?
Apparently Perfect Picture has had a few iterations, and this was one that the writing team chose for a distinct distillation. I’m not quite sure it works in this format, though they may be very happy with it. It wasn’t bad, and the music was interesting (if a little derivative). I wouldn’t mind seeing a fully fleshed out production of the piece—it might make more sense to me then.
That said, the sisters know their craft, and they seem to be really in tune with each other on many levels. I could listen to more of their songs.
ConcertMeister
Good cast, including Mark Jacoby (Norman Rockwell), Lillias White (Actor A) [uh-oh!], Angel Desai (Actor B), and Crista Moore (Actor C). Actors A, B, and C [uh-oh!] were called upon to play wives, lovers, bosses, government employees, second wives, etc., which got a bit muddy, though the performances were all very good, in this concert version.
I hesitate to single out performances, but Mr. Jacoby projected just the right qualities of nebbish and newly conceived personality pretty well. Ms. White scored best in the somewhat recurring role of blues-y, jazz-y outside commentator.
The story arc followed Norman Rockwell through the rejection of his Four Freedoms project through to its successful completion. The road traveled didn’t quite do it for me. The sister team of composer/lyricist has a good feel and a good vibe. For me, though, there were too many songs that made me go, “Oh, that sounds like … and that’s like … .” They weren’t bad, for songs that were like other show-biz songs. I could walk you through each one, except for the fact that some of them blended into each other. Were they a medley? A montage? Two, three, or four mini songs that sounded similar?
Apparently Perfect Picture has had a few iterations, and this was one that the writing team chose for a distinct distillation. I’m not quite sure it works in this format, though they may be very happy with it. It wasn’t bad, and the music was interesting (if a little derivative). I wouldn’t mind seeing a fully fleshed out production of the piece—it might make more sense to me then.
That said, the sisters know their craft, and they seem to be really in tune with each other on many levels. I could listen to more of their songs.
ConcertMeister
Thursday, November 3, 2016
Two Minis (10/24/16, 10/29/16)
Lyrics by Lee – A Celebration of Broadway Lyricist Lee Adams/
The Emily Dickinson Suite–A Chamber Recital in Words and Music
Cabaret artists Steve Ross and Maximilian St. James presented a wonderful evening of the lyrics of Lee Adams. The good news is that lyrics are a great thing to be celebrated. The bad news is that their presentation is linked to composers and performers. The composer for all was Charles Strouse, who made a (late) appearance. The performers were a mixed bag. Lyrics from:
A Broadway Musical (1978)
Applause (1970)
Bye, Bye Birdie (1963)
All American (1962)
I and Albert (1972)
It’s a Bird … It’s a Plane … It’s Superman (1966)
Golden Boy (1964)
Marty (2002; unproduced on Broadway)
Interspersed with musical numbers, there were readings from tribute letters, from (big breath) Chita Rivera, Anita Gillette, Tony Bennett, Hal Prince, Sheldon Harnick, Donald Pippin, and Charles Strouse (who later spoke, in person).
The music (and hence lyrics) was mostly great. I enjoyed hearing cabaret artists like Marilyn Sokol and Penny Fuller, and Mr. Ross was the consummate accompanist/partner. Len Cariou was effective, if not in fine voice. I’m sad to report that Carleton Carpenter did a disservice to “Kids” from Bye, Bye Birdie. Maybe it’s a built-in problem? I did a production with a well-known comedic actor as Mr. McAfee, and he had problems, too.
Still, the lyrics (and music) shone. After Mr. Strouse spoke, he was goaded into sitting at the keyboard and playing the theme to All in the Family—“Gee, our old LaSalle ran great!” Those were the days. Most of the kids in the audience were clueless.
Emily Dickinson was a different kettle of fish. This is at least the second Lincoln Center Library for the Performing Arts tribute to Miss Dickinson that I’ve seen.
The performers included Alison Looman, actress; Elmira Darvarova, violin; Mélanie Genin, harp; John Sorensen, director (for Emily Dickinson: Portrait of a Poet; Robert Herridge, script; Tom Scott, music); Ms. Darvarova, violin; Na Sun, violin; Ronald Carbone, viola; Samuel Magill, cello (for Three Pieces After Emily Dickinson; Mary Howe); Nicole Brancato (piano); Sarah Dutcher (piano); Jai Jeffries (piano) (for What of That; George Boziwick); and Katharine Whyte (soprano) with Matthew Odell (piano) (for 12 Poems of Emily Dickinson; Aaron Copland).
Well, lots of stuff happening, so I’ll just hit the highlights. The violin/harp interludes between the spoken words in the first piece were my favorite parts. They ranged from introductory interludes to dance-like, mournful, slightly modern (surreal and short), again dance-like, music-box theme, dramatic and fuller, slightly subdued, to slightly dark yet with a touch of hope. They were interspersed with introductions (by the director) and snippets of poetry by the actress. Relatively effective, but as I said, the music spoke more to me than the texts.
What of That was … just bizarre. Set for piano, six hands (I’ve never seen that before), the pianists also intoned the poem (sometimes unintelligibly) as they were playing the piece. Per the composer’s introduction, the three players represented Doubt, Certainty, and Belief. It didn’t ring true to me. And the bang-bang-bang rhythm signifying What. Of. That. was overkill.
Copland’s 12-song cycle was nicely performed. Ms. Whyte’s English diction was a big plus, and she handled Copland’s sometimes awkward vocal writing as best she could. It was interesting to hear a bit of redux from the poetry that was used in Portrait of a Poet, at the beginning of the afternoon. Definitely a learning experience. There’s a lot of stuff out there, folks.
ConcertMeister
The Emily Dickinson Suite–A Chamber Recital in Words and Music
Cabaret artists Steve Ross and Maximilian St. James presented a wonderful evening of the lyrics of Lee Adams. The good news is that lyrics are a great thing to be celebrated. The bad news is that their presentation is linked to composers and performers. The composer for all was Charles Strouse, who made a (late) appearance. The performers were a mixed bag. Lyrics from:
A Broadway Musical (1978)
Applause (1970)
Bye, Bye Birdie (1963)
All American (1962)
I and Albert (1972)
It’s a Bird … It’s a Plane … It’s Superman (1966)
Golden Boy (1964)
Marty (2002; unproduced on Broadway)
Interspersed with musical numbers, there were readings from tribute letters, from (big breath) Chita Rivera, Anita Gillette, Tony Bennett, Hal Prince, Sheldon Harnick, Donald Pippin, and Charles Strouse (who later spoke, in person).
The music (and hence lyrics) was mostly great. I enjoyed hearing cabaret artists like Marilyn Sokol and Penny Fuller, and Mr. Ross was the consummate accompanist/partner. Len Cariou was effective, if not in fine voice. I’m sad to report that Carleton Carpenter did a disservice to “Kids” from Bye, Bye Birdie. Maybe it’s a built-in problem? I did a production with a well-known comedic actor as Mr. McAfee, and he had problems, too.
Still, the lyrics (and music) shone. After Mr. Strouse spoke, he was goaded into sitting at the keyboard and playing the theme to All in the Family—“Gee, our old LaSalle ran great!” Those were the days. Most of the kids in the audience were clueless.
Emily Dickinson was a different kettle of fish. This is at least the second Lincoln Center Library for the Performing Arts tribute to Miss Dickinson that I’ve seen.
The performers included Alison Looman, actress; Elmira Darvarova, violin; Mélanie Genin, harp; John Sorensen, director (for Emily Dickinson: Portrait of a Poet; Robert Herridge, script; Tom Scott, music); Ms. Darvarova, violin; Na Sun, violin; Ronald Carbone, viola; Samuel Magill, cello (for Three Pieces After Emily Dickinson; Mary Howe); Nicole Brancato (piano); Sarah Dutcher (piano); Jai Jeffries (piano) (for What of That; George Boziwick); and Katharine Whyte (soprano) with Matthew Odell (piano) (for 12 Poems of Emily Dickinson; Aaron Copland).
Well, lots of stuff happening, so I’ll just hit the highlights. The violin/harp interludes between the spoken words in the first piece were my favorite parts. They ranged from introductory interludes to dance-like, mournful, slightly modern (surreal and short), again dance-like, music-box theme, dramatic and fuller, slightly subdued, to slightly dark yet with a touch of hope. They were interspersed with introductions (by the director) and snippets of poetry by the actress. Relatively effective, but as I said, the music spoke more to me than the texts.
What of That was … just bizarre. Set for piano, six hands (I’ve never seen that before), the pianists also intoned the poem (sometimes unintelligibly) as they were playing the piece. Per the composer’s introduction, the three players represented Doubt, Certainty, and Belief. It didn’t ring true to me. And the bang-bang-bang rhythm signifying What. Of. That. was overkill.
Copland’s 12-song cycle was nicely performed. Ms. Whyte’s English diction was a big plus, and she handled Copland’s sometimes awkward vocal writing as best she could. It was interesting to hear a bit of redux from the poetry that was used in Portrait of a Poet, at the beginning of the afternoon. Definitely a learning experience. There’s a lot of stuff out there, folks.
ConcertMeister
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