Subtitled “Secular love songs and sacred English song and chant to the Virgin Mary, from the 13th century to the 21st,” Jacqueline Horner-Kwiatek, voice, and Elizabeth Weinfield, vielle and viol, presented a very interesting program on a recent Saturday afternoon. Paired with early music including plainsong chant and medieval songs, the afternoon also included modern settings (1991 and 2016) of medieval texts.
Ms. Horner-Kwiatek sang with a somewhat hooting tone, and minimal vibrato, which is par for the course with early-music practitioners. Her diction was very clean in middle English, French, and German. The plainsong chant was clear, and the gradual use of chant morphng into sacred and secular song was very nicely illustrated. Ms. Weinfield’s playing was also first rate. The vielle is a stringed instrument similar in tone to a violin, but played almost like a cello, held between her knees (nothing on the bottom, to set on the ground like a cello, though). The viol is similar, though it has frets on the finger board and was described as a forerunner to the guitar.
The centerpiece of the afternoon was the setting of three 14th-century secular
love poems (compiled in the 15th century, as the Findern Manuscript).
Andrew Lovett, who spoke at the concert, set Fortune’s Will (2016) – I. Ah, Mercy, Fortune; II. Continuance (solo voice). The first had humming to start, and then moved into a setting of the text. Throughout, the humming and the texts alternated back and forth. Each of the three verses ended with a repeated refrain. The second song had the text somewhat dissected, with vocal tics thrown in.
Later in the program we heard Continuance in a composition for voice and viol, by Joel Phillip Friedman (also 2016, and he also spoke about his setting). This one was moodier than Mr. Lovett’s version, mostly tuneful and less spiky, but with some pitch bending at times. It then had a dramatic section before ending calmly, for both voice and viol.
There were additional pieces before concluding with Findern Songs (2016) –
I. Continuance; II. Where Y have chosen; III. Ah, Mercy, Fortune – Daniel Thomas Davis. Mr. Davis did not speak, though Ms. Horner-Kwiatek read a message he had sent to her cell phone. Continuance was a much more modern setting with slight dissonances from the very beginning and a stronger viol presence. Where Y have chosen had a Celtic, folk song, sing-song-y setting of the individual syllables of the words. At times, the viol had some long sustained lines and at other times it matched the syllabic, rhythmic vocal setting. Ah, Mercy, Fortune was an energetic setting of the three verses. The first verse ended with a pretty rendition of the refrain. The second verse was very similar, and the refrain was like revisiting a new friend. While the third verse was fairly much more of the same, the refrain veered off and was treated in a new way, to end the piece.
The blend of old and new made for a varied program, although it wasn’t to everyone’s liking, as there were a few leave takers between some of the sets. Still, I enjoyed it, as a once in a while type of concert. I’m used to hearing this type of music, especially the early music portions, in a church setting, so the chants and the earliest settings were a little on the dry side—no built-in reverb the way you’d hear it in an old stone church. A very minor quibble.
Friday, February 17, 2017
Thursday, February 16, 2017
The Silent Clowns Film Series (2/4/17)
For this season (the 20th!), the staff is choosing the films, and the ones to choose from all feature Raymond Griffith, a major silent film star who is pretty much unknown to me. After working in films in the ’teens as a comedy juvenile, he went behind the camera until he eventually developed his comedy character as an elegant, top-hatted, mustachioed gent, and became a star in his own right. Who knew? I didn’t, but now we all do. The feature, Paths to Paradise (1925) was preceded by a Laurel and Hardy short, Do Detectives Think? (1927).
In addition to being notable for having Laurel and Hardy appear in their ‘standard’ costumes of suits and bowler hats for the first time, this was also a very funny film. And one bit where Laurel gives his own hat to Hardy while keeping Hardy’s on his head is quite amusing. Even when you know it’s going to happen again and again, it’s still funny. Okay, here’s the plot.
The boys are sent by their agency to protect a judge who is being threatened by the Tipton Slasher. Unfortunately, the boys are the least skilled detectives in their agency. Through many bumbling interludes, the boys finally (by dumb luck) catch their man. One of my favorite scenes featured Laurel in a graveyard trying to retrieve both of the windblown, aforementioned bowlers and then being frightened over and over again by his own shadow. The lighting created the gags in a very interesting way. And the gag was brought full circle when the shadow of a billy goat ends up looking like a devil and frightening Hardy.
Paths to Paradise stars Raymond Griffith (the Dude from Duluth) and Betty Compson (Molly) as a pair of con men, if you will, trying to con each other and the San Francisco police. Once they team up against the police, it’s no contest, although one of the police detectives keeps trying to get Compson to see the error of her ways and go straight. She does, but unfortunately we don’t get to see that. You’ll understand why later.
As a team, they attempt to steal a diamond necklace from a rich man who is having a party for his daughter’s upcoming wedding, and wants to present her with the necklace. Compson is undercover as a maid, and Griffith is undercover as a detective, even though there are already two detectives supposedly guarding the safe and the necklace.
Once Griffith actually has the safe and is plotting his and Compson’s escape, we were treated to a very funny ‘lighting’ scene in this film, too. One of the detectives is using a flashlight to sweep the room, and as it catches Griffith in its beam, Buddy the dog distracts the detective so that the detective doesn’t see Griffith. Buddy eventually grabs the flashlight in his teeth, and every time Griffith tries to avoid the flashlight beam, it catches him, but the detective never sees him. Finally, Griffith gets out of the beam of light and out of the room and hooks up with Compson to open the safe. Once the two of them have the necklace, they hightail it out of the mansion, though finally seen by the detectives, and ‘the chase’ begins.
This is a very funny chase. The thieving duo jumps into a car and they’re off. They are soon followed by a police car as well as a brigade of police motorcyclists. As the chase wends its way south toward Mexico, additional cyclists pile on—from San Luis Obispo, from LA, from San Diego—with what looks like close to a hundred cyclists. At one point it seems as though the duo’s car is going to run out of gas but, fortuitously, they’re hurtling down the road next to a tanker truck. So Griffith turns the wheel over to Compson (mind you, the speedometer reads between 80mph and 100mph) and he siphons gas out of the tanker into their gas tank! Then when the duo’s car crosses the border, the cops just stop, and refuse to cross. Something to do with respecting international borders. And that’s where the film ends. Sort of.
Apparently, from original reviews, we learn that Compson does have a change of heart and the dapper Dude from Duluth is gallant enough to return with her and the necklace back to the USofA and to the bride-to-be’s father. Unfortunately, that seventh reel of the film is lost (so far). So the end of reel six is satisfying as an ending, but ‘what-ifs’ abound.
Ben Model once again supplied wonderful piano scores for both films. I especially liked the way he sync’ed rhythmically with Laurel and Hardy’s rhythmic sight gags and head nods. And the audience supplied a real-live laugh track better than any ’60s or ’70s sitcom. There are two more to come in this Griffith series, with two more staff members choosing the films, and I plan on being at both of them. I look forward to getting better acquainted with Griffith.
In addition to being notable for having Laurel and Hardy appear in their ‘standard’ costumes of suits and bowler hats for the first time, this was also a very funny film. And one bit where Laurel gives his own hat to Hardy while keeping Hardy’s on his head is quite amusing. Even when you know it’s going to happen again and again, it’s still funny. Okay, here’s the plot.
The boys are sent by their agency to protect a judge who is being threatened by the Tipton Slasher. Unfortunately, the boys are the least skilled detectives in their agency. Through many bumbling interludes, the boys finally (by dumb luck) catch their man. One of my favorite scenes featured Laurel in a graveyard trying to retrieve both of the windblown, aforementioned bowlers and then being frightened over and over again by his own shadow. The lighting created the gags in a very interesting way. And the gag was brought full circle when the shadow of a billy goat ends up looking like a devil and frightening Hardy.
Paths to Paradise stars Raymond Griffith (the Dude from Duluth) and Betty Compson (Molly) as a pair of con men, if you will, trying to con each other and the San Francisco police. Once they team up against the police, it’s no contest, although one of the police detectives keeps trying to get Compson to see the error of her ways and go straight. She does, but unfortunately we don’t get to see that. You’ll understand why later.
As a team, they attempt to steal a diamond necklace from a rich man who is having a party for his daughter’s upcoming wedding, and wants to present her with the necklace. Compson is undercover as a maid, and Griffith is undercover as a detective, even though there are already two detectives supposedly guarding the safe and the necklace.
Once Griffith actually has the safe and is plotting his and Compson’s escape, we were treated to a very funny ‘lighting’ scene in this film, too. One of the detectives is using a flashlight to sweep the room, and as it catches Griffith in its beam, Buddy the dog distracts the detective so that the detective doesn’t see Griffith. Buddy eventually grabs the flashlight in his teeth, and every time Griffith tries to avoid the flashlight beam, it catches him, but the detective never sees him. Finally, Griffith gets out of the beam of light and out of the room and hooks up with Compson to open the safe. Once the two of them have the necklace, they hightail it out of the mansion, though finally seen by the detectives, and ‘the chase’ begins.
This is a very funny chase. The thieving duo jumps into a car and they’re off. They are soon followed by a police car as well as a brigade of police motorcyclists. As the chase wends its way south toward Mexico, additional cyclists pile on—from San Luis Obispo, from LA, from San Diego—with what looks like close to a hundred cyclists. At one point it seems as though the duo’s car is going to run out of gas but, fortuitously, they’re hurtling down the road next to a tanker truck. So Griffith turns the wheel over to Compson (mind you, the speedometer reads between 80mph and 100mph) and he siphons gas out of the tanker into their gas tank! Then when the duo’s car crosses the border, the cops just stop, and refuse to cross. Something to do with respecting international borders. And that’s where the film ends. Sort of.
Apparently, from original reviews, we learn that Compson does have a change of heart and the dapper Dude from Duluth is gallant enough to return with her and the necklace back to the USofA and to the bride-to-be’s father. Unfortunately, that seventh reel of the film is lost (so far). So the end of reel six is satisfying as an ending, but ‘what-ifs’ abound.
Ben Model once again supplied wonderful piano scores for both films. I especially liked the way he sync’ed rhythmically with Laurel and Hardy’s rhythmic sight gags and head nods. And the audience supplied a real-live laugh track better than any ’60s or ’70s sitcom. There are two more to come in this Griffith series, with two more staff members choosing the films, and I plan on being at both of them. I look forward to getting better acquainted with Griffith.
Sunday, February 5, 2017
Midday Masterpieces (2/1/17)
Tomer Gewirtzman (piano)
Couperin – Passacaglia in B minor
Corigliano – Fantasia on an Ostinato
Schumann – Fantasie, Op. 17
This was my third or fourth free midday concert at the Jerome L. Greene space, courtesy of WQXR, and it was another winner.
Couperin’s Passacaglia was mostly calm, with varied increases in volume, though it had many embellishments—figures moving around a single note (trills, etc.) before settling in on the pitch. Mr. Gewirtzman, a student in the graduate program at Juilliard, created a very nice arc, in terms of increasing volume and intensity and then returning to quiet.
The Corigliano (based on a Beethoven theme) was really very interesting. Before finally arriving at the Beethoven theme, it was a study on repeated notes. Not Philip Glass–esque repeated notes, but repeated notes that had different weights/lengths/
strengths—it was very intriguing. I also jotted down that his control of dynamics, especially in the multiple repeated notes was astounding. By that, I mean that I was literally astounded. His control and shading of dynamics was incredible, to the point where I found myself wondering, “How does he do that?” I found myself thinking about how he was shading the dynamics, which is both a good and bad thing. Good, because it was so good. Bad, because I was thinking about the technique and not about the music. More to the point, I wasn’t purely enjoying the music, I was thinking about the music.
The Schumann, in three movements, was described from the stage as a love letter to Clara Wieck. The first movement was unabashedly Romantic (musical style) and romantic (real-life style). I was reminded, in one sense, of the songs to come from Schumann, i.e., the prolific lieder and song cycles. The second movement had a bright and solidly positive martial theme, followed by what was, once again, a song-like setting that ended with a loud, full finish. The third movement had a calm opening that led to a song-like section. In fact, the entire movement was almost like love song after love song, as if each one had to come forward—they couldn’t be held back.
My only quibble (and it’s incredibly minor) is that I was so intrigued by his shading of dynamics that it interfered with my enjoyment of the artistry. When he does (and I’m pretty sure he will) mature through this, he’ll be a force to be reckoned with.
Concert Meister
Couperin – Passacaglia in B minor
Corigliano – Fantasia on an Ostinato
Schumann – Fantasie, Op. 17
This was my third or fourth free midday concert at the Jerome L. Greene space, courtesy of WQXR, and it was another winner.
Couperin’s Passacaglia was mostly calm, with varied increases in volume, though it had many embellishments—figures moving around a single note (trills, etc.) before settling in on the pitch. Mr. Gewirtzman, a student in the graduate program at Juilliard, created a very nice arc, in terms of increasing volume and intensity and then returning to quiet.
The Corigliano (based on a Beethoven theme) was really very interesting. Before finally arriving at the Beethoven theme, it was a study on repeated notes. Not Philip Glass–esque repeated notes, but repeated notes that had different weights/lengths/
strengths—it was very intriguing. I also jotted down that his control of dynamics, especially in the multiple repeated notes was astounding. By that, I mean that I was literally astounded. His control and shading of dynamics was incredible, to the point where I found myself wondering, “How does he do that?” I found myself thinking about how he was shading the dynamics, which is both a good and bad thing. Good, because it was so good. Bad, because I was thinking about the technique and not about the music. More to the point, I wasn’t purely enjoying the music, I was thinking about the music.
The Schumann, in three movements, was described from the stage as a love letter to Clara Wieck. The first movement was unabashedly Romantic (musical style) and romantic (real-life style). I was reminded, in one sense, of the songs to come from Schumann, i.e., the prolific lieder and song cycles. The second movement had a bright and solidly positive martial theme, followed by what was, once again, a song-like setting that ended with a loud, full finish. The third movement had a calm opening that led to a song-like section. In fact, the entire movement was almost like love song after love song, as if each one had to come forward—they couldn’t be held back.
My only quibble (and it’s incredibly minor) is that I was so intrigued by his shading of dynamics that it interfered with my enjoyment of the artistry. When he does (and I’m pretty sure he will) mature through this, he’ll be a force to be reckoned with.
Concert Meister
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