Arts and Artists of Tomorrow, featuring composer/lyricist Zack Zadek
This one, a concert featuring an up and coming composer/lyricist, was interesting especially because the music of a single composer was featured. And he played the piano. And he performed some of his own songs. (And he is also the book writer of at least one, and maybe two or all, of the musicals represented Monday evening.)
The performance opened with A Matter of Time, from Storebrand (if I’m remembering correctly), a work in progress. Sung by Harrison Chad,
Kathryn Gallagher, and Mr. Zadek, it had a heavy rock feel that finally evolved into some nice harmony toward the end. The rock influence was prevalent throughout the evening, making this a little rough on the ears for me.
Three selections from The Crazy Ones, a tech-savvy musical about Steve Jobs and the guy he worked with in his early days in computer evolution, were nicely done. Apparently this has been workshopped a bit, which showed, since Noah Zachary, in the Steve Jobs role, was pretty much locked in to the character. Mr. Zadek filled in as the Steve Wozniak character. The driving rock rhythms and chords pretty much made sense in a tech-heavy musical. There was a nice variety, compositionally, with Beautiful, the ‘I want’ song in musicals parlance, a nice view into the inner workings of how things work (computers and music), with a focus on the necessary details and focus on the necessary repetitions to achieve both. Those details carried over into In the Garage, the final song of this set, which I enjoyed quite a bit.
The third musical represented was Deathless, which has the interesting premise of would you or wouldn’t you take a pill that would keep you alive forever—not in the case of a horrific accidental death but would prevent the diseases and effects of aging. Alexandra Socha sang the opening number, Live Forever, and was somewhat overpowered by the piano playing of Mr. Zadek. I’m not sure whether it was his playing, her singing, a combination of both, or the range in which the song was set. It just didn’t quite click for me. On We Go was a duet where ‘he’ had already taken the pill and ‘she’ had not, and included a nifty lyric, “I’ll take a century off …” Three others included one with a country feel to it and the ‘11 o’clock number’ Up and Away, which expressed some strong sentiments due to a rift/split between two sisters whose mother had recently died. There are some interesting nuggets here. This work will have its world premiere at Goodspeed Musicals this summer (June 2–July 2), so I may try to keep an eye and ear out for any updates.
Next, a special guest appeared, singing a stand-alone song that was composed just for her. Lauren Pritchard (Ilse in Spring Awakening, and also known as LOLO) sang Saved by the Sinner (I think; it was only announced from the stage). With its heavy country/rock vibe, it was not my favorite but the audience really ate it up.
In returning to the beginning, a couple more songs from Storebrand were featured next. Emoji, sung by Kasie Gasparini, was cute as it traced a girl's journey through the generations of her life via different emojis. A recurring lyric was, “I had something that was almost as real as what I could feel,” but she eventually came to the conclusion that an emoji just didn’t quite make the grade.
The last song on the program was Last Song (I’m not making this up, you know!). It was written at Heathrow airport just before boarding a transatlantic flight, and was born out of the question ‘What would I do if this was the last song I wrote?’ It incorporated fears of ‘what if’ and “People live and die / the lucky ones get to say good-bye.” Not quite morbid, but almost. There’s a lot of talent in this guy, and a lot of strange ideas, and a lot of fertile goings on in that brain of his. Keep an eye out for the name Zack Zadek.
As always, a big thank you to John Znidarsic who has helmed this series for
these past twenty-six(!) seasons, and who will be directing a presentation of
Joey Contreras’ song cycle In Pieces as the final Songbook presentation of the season on Monday, May 22. I’ll be there.
ConcertMeister
p.s. A shout out, also, for Ethan Packchar who provided terrific guitar support throughout many of the individual numbers. (And who even corrected the opening chord for the composer in one piece!)
Thursday, April 27, 2017
Tuesday, April 25, 2017
Dialogues (4/22/17)
In honor of Holocaust Remembrance Day (Yom Ha Shoah), the NYPL Lincoln Center for the Performing Arts presented a series of readings as well as short videos and a brief panel discussion, all under the auspices of The National Jewish Theater Foundation Holocaust Theater Initiative. This was one of many presentations that took place around the country over a three- to four-day period.
There was a video of an Oprah Winfrey interview with Elie Wiesel, readings from three sections of Wiesel’s Dialogues (Adam Keller, Arden Truax, Greg Mullavey, Mickey Tennenbaum, Theresa McCarthy, and Theodora Silverman), a video of a Holocaust survivor (Irving Roth), a video of a
young actress (Andi Potamkin), and a reading from Wiesel’s A Black Canopy,
A Black Sky (Mr. Mullavey, Craig Newman, Nora Davis, Mr. Keller, and
Mr. Tennenbaum).
Then a panel discussion, Understanding Holocaust Theater, followed with Arnold Mittelman (moderator), and Jeff Cohen (playwright), Sheldon Harnick (lyricist), Charles Strouse (composer), Sherman Yellen (author), and Lori Weintraub (from the Wagner College Holocaust Center).
All of the Wiesel readings were very effective, dealing with how the different characters (Man/Little Sister, Father/Son, Mother/Daughter, and Maggid/
Man/Woman (Wife?)/Boy) dealt with the realities of what the Holocaust would bring and, more importantly, leave behind. What it left behind was stories and memories—stories and memories that should never be lost, should always be saved and, unfortunately, should always be shared.
All of the readings were what could be referred to as ‘witness theater’ and that was the basic topic of the panel discussion. The question put to the panel was whether or not the Holocaust informed, specifically, their writings for the theater or otherwise. The basic response was that it colored their writing, but was not specifically referred to (with the exception of Mr. Cohen’s Soap Myth that I saw
last spring and commented on in an earlier blog post). As mentioned, this segment
of the program was brief and only barely touched on recent politics when
Mr. Mittelman brought up the Syrian refugee situation in contrast with the German/Jew refugee situation in the 1930s/’40s. Just as with ‘witness theater’, ‘witness refugeeism’ must never be lost, must always be saved and, unfortunately, must always be shared.
ConcertMeister
There was a video of an Oprah Winfrey interview with Elie Wiesel, readings from three sections of Wiesel’s Dialogues (Adam Keller, Arden Truax, Greg Mullavey, Mickey Tennenbaum, Theresa McCarthy, and Theodora Silverman), a video of a Holocaust survivor (Irving Roth), a video of a
young actress (Andi Potamkin), and a reading from Wiesel’s A Black Canopy,
A Black Sky (Mr. Mullavey, Craig Newman, Nora Davis, Mr. Keller, and
Mr. Tennenbaum).
Then a panel discussion, Understanding Holocaust Theater, followed with Arnold Mittelman (moderator), and Jeff Cohen (playwright), Sheldon Harnick (lyricist), Charles Strouse (composer), Sherman Yellen (author), and Lori Weintraub (from the Wagner College Holocaust Center).
All of the Wiesel readings were very effective, dealing with how the different characters (Man/Little Sister, Father/Son, Mother/Daughter, and Maggid/
Man/Woman (Wife?)/Boy) dealt with the realities of what the Holocaust would bring and, more importantly, leave behind. What it left behind was stories and memories—stories and memories that should never be lost, should always be saved and, unfortunately, should always be shared.
All of the readings were what could be referred to as ‘witness theater’ and that was the basic topic of the panel discussion. The question put to the panel was whether or not the Holocaust informed, specifically, their writings for the theater or otherwise. The basic response was that it colored their writing, but was not specifically referred to (with the exception of Mr. Cohen’s Soap Myth that I saw
last spring and commented on in an earlier blog post). As mentioned, this segment
of the program was brief and only barely touched on recent politics when
Mr. Mittelman brought up the Syrian refugee situation in contrast with the German/Jew refugee situation in the 1930s/’40s. Just as with ‘witness theater’, ‘witness refugeeism’ must never be lost, must always be saved and, unfortunately, must always be shared.
ConcertMeister
Monday, April 17, 2017
Bargemusic (4/15/17)
It’s been a while since I visited this standby. The crowd was a good size, about 50 people, and there was a smattering of kids in attendance. It’s good that they’re exposed to such quality musicianship. The program, announced from the stage, included Bach, Peskanov, Prokofiev, and Ravel. Peskanov? you might ask? Yes.
Mark Peskanov, violin, opened the concert with a pair of movements from an unaccompanied Bach violin sonata. In a minor key, the first movement was nicely played, with some double stops included. That’s where the violinist plays two strings at one time, adding extra harmony to the main melody being played. The second movement presented here was fugal (extra voices added reiterating the original theme) and was livelier and muscular, for want of a better word.
Mr. Peskanov followed those with a dance-like gavotte (a gavotte is a type of dance) that was pleasant and not too brisk. He urged the children in the audience to dance, if the spirit moved them, but there were no takers.
Mr. Peskanov then turned the stage over to Mr. Peskanov and Ms. Peskanov (Mark’s brother Alexander, piano, and Alexander’s wife Lu Ann, flute). We were treated to a truncated version of the program that they would be presenting Saturday night, but this one was free. The first piece for flute and piano was Sicilian Impromptu, composed by Alexander Peskanov. It was gentle, very traditional sounding, and really lovely in an almost haunting way.
That was followed by a couple of movements from the Prokofiev Sonata in D. The first movement that we heard was more modern sounding without being overly harsh—a mix of spiky and fluid. The second movement we heard was a jaunty sort of perpetual motion, and a bit of a mad waltz followed by a brief lyrical section before returning to the dark waltz.
Continuing in the dance mode, we heard the Ravel Habanera, with its requisite BUM-ba-dum-bum, BUM-ba-dum-bum rhythm. After a brief introduction, it morphed into the familiar tune (Google it and you’ll see/hear what I mean). Interesting fact announced from the stage is that it was originally a vocalise for a bass! that was then adapted for a variety of instruments of the non-vocal type.
The final piece was also dance inspired—Mambo, by Alexander Peskanov—that came about after he was noodling at the piano in Latin America and then was joined in the improvisation by (I think) a violinist. It was lively and pleasant as was the entire hour-long concert.
Check out Bargemusic at 4pm on various Saturday afternoons. It’s a bit of a grab-bag but that’s also part of its charm. That and the stunning view of lower Manhattan from the barge on the Brooklyn side of the East River.
ConcertMeister
Mark Peskanov, violin, opened the concert with a pair of movements from an unaccompanied Bach violin sonata. In a minor key, the first movement was nicely played, with some double stops included. That’s where the violinist plays two strings at one time, adding extra harmony to the main melody being played. The second movement presented here was fugal (extra voices added reiterating the original theme) and was livelier and muscular, for want of a better word.
Mr. Peskanov followed those with a dance-like gavotte (a gavotte is a type of dance) that was pleasant and not too brisk. He urged the children in the audience to dance, if the spirit moved them, but there were no takers.
Mr. Peskanov then turned the stage over to Mr. Peskanov and Ms. Peskanov (Mark’s brother Alexander, piano, and Alexander’s wife Lu Ann, flute). We were treated to a truncated version of the program that they would be presenting Saturday night, but this one was free. The first piece for flute and piano was Sicilian Impromptu, composed by Alexander Peskanov. It was gentle, very traditional sounding, and really lovely in an almost haunting way.
That was followed by a couple of movements from the Prokofiev Sonata in D. The first movement that we heard was more modern sounding without being overly harsh—a mix of spiky and fluid. The second movement we heard was a jaunty sort of perpetual motion, and a bit of a mad waltz followed by a brief lyrical section before returning to the dark waltz.
Continuing in the dance mode, we heard the Ravel Habanera, with its requisite BUM-ba-dum-bum, BUM-ba-dum-bum rhythm. After a brief introduction, it morphed into the familiar tune (Google it and you’ll see/hear what I mean). Interesting fact announced from the stage is that it was originally a vocalise for a bass! that was then adapted for a variety of instruments of the non-vocal type.
The final piece was also dance inspired—Mambo, by Alexander Peskanov—that came about after he was noodling at the piano in Latin America and then was joined in the improvisation by (I think) a violinist. It was lively and pleasant as was the entire hour-long concert.
Check out Bargemusic at 4pm on various Saturday afternoons. It’s a bit of a grab-bag but that’s also part of its charm. That and the stunning view of lower Manhattan from the barge on the Brooklyn side of the East River.
ConcertMeister
Tuesday, April 11, 2017
Carter Burden Gallery (4/6/17) and Ukrainian Institute of America (4/8/17)
What’s this, ’Meister? I went for the visual arts this week—the opening of two different shows.
On Thursday April 6, I was at the opening of at the Carter Burden Gallery at
548 West 28th Street, #534.
Examining Movement and Gestures: Jonathan Bauch and Francie Lyshak
Remixing Dreams: Cheating the Status Quo: Nieves Saah
On the Wall: Bruce W. Greenwood
Full disclosure, I worked with Mr. Greenwood back in my theater days, me as a performer, and he was in stage management. And that’s all the disclosure you get. The four artists presented very different styles of work. The first were mostly figural, I guess, sculptures of various sizes, mostly of metal. Some were mounted on the wall and some were freestanding. The second was, if I’m remembering correctly, oil on canvas, with modern uses of mostly linear spreads of color. The third, in the smaller ‘Wall’ section of the gallery, was a combination of line drawings, including smaller versions of the source material and culminating in the large-scale finished product. It was produced on sheetrock as a medium, as was a companion piece on the opposite wall that was, again if I’m remembering correctly, acrylic on sheetrock. [Woody, feel free to contact me if something needs to be explained more fully—or if I just got it completely wrong!]
Saturday, April 8 found me at the Ukrainian Institute of America, housed in a beautiful mansion at Fifth Avenue and East 79th Street. The exhibit was titled Petrykivka, A Ukrainian Folk Phenomenon & Living Tradition – The Natalie Pawlenko and Yuri Mischenko Collection. The art was definitely in the folk art vein, sometimes reminding me of Amish or Pennsylvania Dutch Americana. I really didn’t focus on dates or specific titles of the close to fifty or so pieces. I was almost overwhelmed by the use of red and orange, so that when I saw the occasional brown and green and blue, it was a welcome sight. And there were a couple of pieces with darker backgrounds—one that was almost a midnight blue. What was interesting about that one was that the church building featured in it was also featured in two other pieces in the same room. Some of the groupings of people were strongly familiar, as well. The paintings were mostly tempera on paper, including a few oils or acrylics on canvas. Flowers and roosters were big themes, as were the aforementioned churches with groupings of people.
Some pleasant wine was served, and I was also able to visit other galleries (i.e., rooms in the mansion) and see other exhibits, too. Not a bad way to spend an early Saturday evening.
Both events were free. I’m not certain whether the Ukrainian Institute is always free, but the Chelsea gallery (and many more in the area) is free, as are most others in the neighborhood. I often forget to explore ‘art-on-the-walls’ as opposed to ‘art-for-the-ears’—time to broaden my horizons.
ArtMeister
On Thursday April 6, I was at the opening of at the Carter Burden Gallery at
548 West 28th Street, #534.
Examining Movement and Gestures: Jonathan Bauch and Francie Lyshak
Remixing Dreams: Cheating the Status Quo: Nieves Saah
On the Wall: Bruce W. Greenwood
Full disclosure, I worked with Mr. Greenwood back in my theater days, me as a performer, and he was in stage management. And that’s all the disclosure you get. The four artists presented very different styles of work. The first were mostly figural, I guess, sculptures of various sizes, mostly of metal. Some were mounted on the wall and some were freestanding. The second was, if I’m remembering correctly, oil on canvas, with modern uses of mostly linear spreads of color. The third, in the smaller ‘Wall’ section of the gallery, was a combination of line drawings, including smaller versions of the source material and culminating in the large-scale finished product. It was produced on sheetrock as a medium, as was a companion piece on the opposite wall that was, again if I’m remembering correctly, acrylic on sheetrock. [Woody, feel free to contact me if something needs to be explained more fully—or if I just got it completely wrong!]
Saturday, April 8 found me at the Ukrainian Institute of America, housed in a beautiful mansion at Fifth Avenue and East 79th Street. The exhibit was titled Petrykivka, A Ukrainian Folk Phenomenon & Living Tradition – The Natalie Pawlenko and Yuri Mischenko Collection. The art was definitely in the folk art vein, sometimes reminding me of Amish or Pennsylvania Dutch Americana. I really didn’t focus on dates or specific titles of the close to fifty or so pieces. I was almost overwhelmed by the use of red and orange, so that when I saw the occasional brown and green and blue, it was a welcome sight. And there were a couple of pieces with darker backgrounds—one that was almost a midnight blue. What was interesting about that one was that the church building featured in it was also featured in two other pieces in the same room. Some of the groupings of people were strongly familiar, as well. The paintings were mostly tempera on paper, including a few oils or acrylics on canvas. Flowers and roosters were big themes, as were the aforementioned churches with groupings of people.
Some pleasant wine was served, and I was also able to visit other galleries (i.e., rooms in the mansion) and see other exhibits, too. Not a bad way to spend an early Saturday evening.
Both events were free. I’m not certain whether the Ukrainian Institute is always free, but the Chelsea gallery (and many more in the area) is free, as are most others in the neighborhood. I often forget to explore ‘art-on-the-walls’ as opposed to ‘art-for-the-ears’—time to broaden my horizons.
ArtMeister
Sunday, April 9, 2017
Midday Masterpieces (4/5/17)
Robert Schumann – Märchenbilder, Op. 113
Ellen Taaffe Zwilich – Fantasy for Solo Viola
Rebecca Clarke – Viola Sonata
Garth Knox – Fuga libre
Matthew Lipman, viola
Yi-Fang Huang, piano
It isn’t often that I get to hear the viola on its own. Sure, it might be featured in a section of a string quartet, but on its own? It's slightly larger than a violin, and therefore has a slightly deeper, rounder sound. The Schumann was a set of four relatively short pieces. The first had a rich and pretty opening, sounding Romantic but controlled in its slow, forward movement. The second was more energetic and almost martial. A rippling section followed; then there was a mix of both. The third movement was a Presto, sounding dramatic and sort of diabolical at the same time. A contrasting pizzicato (the violist plucks the strings rather than bowing them) section followed, with a return to the Presto. The last movement was song-like, gentle and lovely. Mr. Lipman and Ms. Huang were in constant touch and support with each other.
The Zwilich was for solo viola. As an aside, Mr. Lipman told us that the piece was written as a compulsory piece for a violin competition, but that she expressly created a version for viola, as well. It opened with long-bowed (the full length of the bow, instead of back-and-forth gestures) double stop (playing two strings at once) phrases. It was modern but not too far out there. Various difficult technical feats were included, and there was even a feel of bluegrass thrown in for good measure.
The Clarke sonata opened with solo piano, then solo viola, then both. There was a very pretty mix of sounds and tunes that felt like a modern version of Romanticism—even hinting at Debussy or Ravel—while presenting very original sounds. The second movement was playful for both the piano and viola. After a lyrical section, there was a return to the playful feel. The third movement opened with solo piano in a long single line, leading into being joined by the viola in a slow, song-like section that increased in intensity and then returned to the song-like feel. Overall, a pleasant piece.
The Knox piece was also for solo viola. With its interesting techniques and sounds, it was almost too modern for me. My feeling was that it seemed like experimental sound just for the experimental part.
A note on stage deportment—these two knew what they were doing. The stage at The Greene Space, WQXR’s performance/broadcast venue is always a bit awkward. That problem was solved by having Ms. Huang exit the stage and wait at the back of the house while Mr. Lipman performed solo. And after his last solo performance, he exited the same way, in order to return with her for final bows. Well done!
If memory serves, there will be two more concerts in this inaugural season of the joint venture between WQXR and The Juilliard School. I plan on being at both.
ConcertMeister
Ellen Taaffe Zwilich – Fantasy for Solo Viola
Rebecca Clarke – Viola Sonata
Garth Knox – Fuga libre
Matthew Lipman, viola
Yi-Fang Huang, piano
It isn’t often that I get to hear the viola on its own. Sure, it might be featured in a section of a string quartet, but on its own? It's slightly larger than a violin, and therefore has a slightly deeper, rounder sound. The Schumann was a set of four relatively short pieces. The first had a rich and pretty opening, sounding Romantic but controlled in its slow, forward movement. The second was more energetic and almost martial. A rippling section followed; then there was a mix of both. The third movement was a Presto, sounding dramatic and sort of diabolical at the same time. A contrasting pizzicato (the violist plucks the strings rather than bowing them) section followed, with a return to the Presto. The last movement was song-like, gentle and lovely. Mr. Lipman and Ms. Huang were in constant touch and support with each other.
The Zwilich was for solo viola. As an aside, Mr. Lipman told us that the piece was written as a compulsory piece for a violin competition, but that she expressly created a version for viola, as well. It opened with long-bowed (the full length of the bow, instead of back-and-forth gestures) double stop (playing two strings at once) phrases. It was modern but not too far out there. Various difficult technical feats were included, and there was even a feel of bluegrass thrown in for good measure.
The Clarke sonata opened with solo piano, then solo viola, then both. There was a very pretty mix of sounds and tunes that felt like a modern version of Romanticism—even hinting at Debussy or Ravel—while presenting very original sounds. The second movement was playful for both the piano and viola. After a lyrical section, there was a return to the playful feel. The third movement opened with solo piano in a long single line, leading into being joined by the viola in a slow, song-like section that increased in intensity and then returned to the song-like feel. Overall, a pleasant piece.
The Knox piece was also for solo viola. With its interesting techniques and sounds, it was almost too modern for me. My feeling was that it seemed like experimental sound just for the experimental part.
A note on stage deportment—these two knew what they were doing. The stage at The Greene Space, WQXR’s performance/broadcast venue is always a bit awkward. That problem was solved by having Ms. Huang exit the stage and wait at the back of the house while Mr. Lipman performed solo. And after his last solo performance, he exited the same way, in order to return with her for final bows. Well done!
If memory serves, there will be two more concerts in this inaugural season of the joint venture between WQXR and The Juilliard School. I plan on being at both.
ConcertMeister
Thursday, April 6, 2017
Quynh Nguyen, Piano (4/1/17)
Sonata in E major, Op. 109 – Vivace ma non troppo; Prestissimo; Gesangvoll, mit innigster Empfindung – Ludwig Van Beethoven (1770–1827)
Le Tombeau de Couperin – Prélude, Forlane. Rigaudon, Menuet, Toccata – Maurice Ravel (1875–1937)
Vingt regards sur l’Enfant-Jésus – No. 15: Le baiser de l’Enfant-Jésus – Olivier Messiaen (1908–1992)
Piano Sonata No. 2 in B-flat minor, Op. 35 – Grave – Doppio movimento; Scherzo; Marche funèbre: Lento; Finale: Presto – Frederic Chopin (1810–1849)
I’ll write and then I’ll research. The three movements of the Beethoven were not very distinct to me. The beginning was rippling, ranging from gentle to formidable (perhaps a later work?). There seemed to be an exploration of a mix of styles, with many different sections that didn’t quite come together, sort of through composed. Vindication! Composed in 1820 (maybe finished in 1821), the work is historically described as “a free and original approach to the traditional sonata form” and “particularly noteworthy for its divergence from the norms of sonata form and for its harmonic and structural innovations.”
N.B. This is from my 2012 post of the same pianist with this work: “The Beethoven barely seemed like Beethoven to begin with—the first movement oddly disjunctive, the second movement more Beethoven-esque (slightly dense, more solid)—followed by a third movement that was a bit segmented.”
The first of the five movements of the Ravel was lovely and brisk, with a definite French flair, and pretty much perpetual motion. The second movement’s distinctive tune was familiar to me, probably due to repeated hearings on the radio (though usually in an orchestrated version). The third was jaunty, reiterating some of the second movement’s themes—actually, more like expanding on them. The fourth movement had a poignant opening and a lovely ending. The Toccata was energetic and rhythmic, alternating with rippling passages, and then driving hard to the end.
The Messiaen had modern, quiet chords, including some dissonances, with a gentle feeling, even in the repeated rhythms of the chords. This was followed by a very contemplative section; a bit of an explosive section; followed by a fairly lengthy and strident section before finishing quietly. If this was No. 15 of 20, I’m not sure I could take the complete work in one setting. Maybe Messiaen’s too cerebral for me.
The opening movement of the Chopin was very brisk yet dark, settling in to pianistic fireworks both loud and soft. The second movement was dramatic, even after considering the fireworks that ended the first movement. This one was more tuneful, ending with a gentler section. The third movement is the very famous funeral march—“Pray for the dead, and the dead will pray for you.” A contrasting quiet section followed that was somewhat haunting, before a return to the main theme. (attacca) The fourth movement had brisk runs up and down the middle of the keyboard. The word ‘attacca’ means without a break, and in this case, the fourth movement not only continued immediately, it was so brief that I think it’s almost like a throwaway afterthought, as opposed to being its own movement. Then again, I’m not Chopin.
The performance was very strong, and Ms. Nguyen played all of the pieces from memory.
ConcertMeister
Le Tombeau de Couperin – Prélude, Forlane. Rigaudon, Menuet, Toccata – Maurice Ravel (1875–1937)
Vingt regards sur l’Enfant-Jésus – No. 15: Le baiser de l’Enfant-Jésus – Olivier Messiaen (1908–1992)
Piano Sonata No. 2 in B-flat minor, Op. 35 – Grave – Doppio movimento; Scherzo; Marche funèbre: Lento; Finale: Presto – Frederic Chopin (1810–1849)
I’ll write and then I’ll research. The three movements of the Beethoven were not very distinct to me. The beginning was rippling, ranging from gentle to formidable (perhaps a later work?). There seemed to be an exploration of a mix of styles, with many different sections that didn’t quite come together, sort of through composed. Vindication! Composed in 1820 (maybe finished in 1821), the work is historically described as “a free and original approach to the traditional sonata form” and “particularly noteworthy for its divergence from the norms of sonata form and for its harmonic and structural innovations.”
N.B. This is from my 2012 post of the same pianist with this work: “The Beethoven barely seemed like Beethoven to begin with—the first movement oddly disjunctive, the second movement more Beethoven-esque (slightly dense, more solid)—followed by a third movement that was a bit segmented.”
The first of the five movements of the Ravel was lovely and brisk, with a definite French flair, and pretty much perpetual motion. The second movement’s distinctive tune was familiar to me, probably due to repeated hearings on the radio (though usually in an orchestrated version). The third was jaunty, reiterating some of the second movement’s themes—actually, more like expanding on them. The fourth movement had a poignant opening and a lovely ending. The Toccata was energetic and rhythmic, alternating with rippling passages, and then driving hard to the end.
The Messiaen had modern, quiet chords, including some dissonances, with a gentle feeling, even in the repeated rhythms of the chords. This was followed by a very contemplative section; a bit of an explosive section; followed by a fairly lengthy and strident section before finishing quietly. If this was No. 15 of 20, I’m not sure I could take the complete work in one setting. Maybe Messiaen’s too cerebral for me.
The opening movement of the Chopin was very brisk yet dark, settling in to pianistic fireworks both loud and soft. The second movement was dramatic, even after considering the fireworks that ended the first movement. This one was more tuneful, ending with a gentler section. The third movement is the very famous funeral march—“Pray for the dead, and the dead will pray for you.” A contrasting quiet section followed that was somewhat haunting, before a return to the main theme. (attacca) The fourth movement had brisk runs up and down the middle of the keyboard. The word ‘attacca’ means without a break, and in this case, the fourth movement not only continued immediately, it was so brief that I think it’s almost like a throwaway afterthought, as opposed to being its own movement. Then again, I’m not Chopin.
The performance was very strong, and Ms. Nguyen played all of the pieces from memory.
ConcertMeister
Monday, April 3, 2017
The Orchestra Now, Times Two (3/5/17 & 4/2/17)
But two different venues—Brooklyn Center for the Performing Arts at Brooklyn College and LaGuardia Performing Arts Center at LaGuardia Community College. First off, thank you, colleges, for providing such wonderful performance spaces. And college students, take advantage of them!
3/5/17
Ruslan and Lyudmilla Overture (1837–42) – Mikhail Glinka (1804–57)
L’Ascension, Four Meditations for Orchestra (1932–33) – Olivier Messiaen (1908–92)
Symphony No. 4, Op. 36 (1877–78) – Pyotr Ilyich Tchaikovsky (1840–93)
Zachary Schwartzman, conductor
4/2/17
North by Northwest Overture (1959) – Bernard Herrmann (1911–75)
Symphony No. 3 (1938) – Roy Harris (1898–1979)
Symphony No. 1, Low (1992) – Philip Glass (b. 1937)
James Bagwell, conductor
Since this is a two-fer, I’ll do a little less in-depth discussion than usual. On the plus side, both concerts had TON’s trademark Concert Quick Guide, which handily lists the pieces, composers’ dates, info on the premiere of each piece, and the (estimated) length of each piece (more about that later).
The March 5 overture was a solid opening, very brisk, building excitement from the get-go. The Messiaen had modern harmonies that were gentle yet brash at the same time. The second movement had slightly discordant phrases from the winds, sounding sort of mystical. The third was fanfare-like, while the last movement had serene strings to start with, though still with modern harmonies, ending with a literal sense of ascension as the violins played higher and higher in their registers.
The Tchaikovsky had a lengthy first movement with varied themes and sections including a brass fanfare to start with that made several returns. The second movement was a calm respite although it had drama of its own. The third was brisk but a bit subdued because of light pizzicato phrases. The fourth opened with a bang and then just kept on going. After a brief calm section, the fanfare from the first movement was reintroduced, followed by new material to round out the work.
The April 2 overture was more of a pastiche of the themes from the movie North by Northwest worked into a single composition. The mix of themes included phrases in 3/4 time as well as 6/8 time (think “America” from West Side Story). There was also a nice mix of percussion sounds including tambourine and castanets. The single-movement Harris symphony had an interesting build—strings (cellos front and center) joined by basses and violas, atonal but not harsh. Then welcome the brass and violas, with the woodwinds sneaking in, too. The music had touches of drama as well as touches of real beauty, including one section that was very reminiscent of the Aaron Copland sound (western motif/beef, it’s what’s for dinner).
I promised myself that I would give the Glass a try. I also chose an aisle seat, just in case. According to written and spoken program notes, the Glass symphony was based on (and indeed quoted material from) the 1977 David Bowie/Brian Eno album, Low. This meant next to nothing to me. Consider this—the Hermann overture was three minutes long. The Harris one-movement symphony was eighteen minutes long. The first movement (of three) of the Glass symphony was sixteen minutes long. Sixteen minutes of repetitive, repetitive, repetitive phrases that sounded like, “Someday I’ll wish upon a star” over and over and over and over. A second theme was eventually introduced that had a different motif repeated over and over and over again. And … that was it—I was out of there. Movements two and three were reportedly eleven and eighteen minutes (Harris’ entire symphony!) long, and I knew that it would not be enjoyable, enjoyable, enjoyable for me. But at least I did give it a try.
What was enjoyable was hearing this orchestra in a pair of very interesting programs. They’ll definitely stay on my radar (duh! I’m on their email list). As a side note, this entire post was written while listening to a free concert from Carnegie Hall, courtesy of WQXR (my local classical music station), which regularly presents Live from Carnegie Hall concerts. There’s lots of free stuff out there, in various guises, so get out there and explore.
ConcertMeister
3/5/17
Ruslan and Lyudmilla Overture (1837–42) – Mikhail Glinka (1804–57)
L’Ascension, Four Meditations for Orchestra (1932–33) – Olivier Messiaen (1908–92)
Symphony No. 4, Op. 36 (1877–78) – Pyotr Ilyich Tchaikovsky (1840–93)
Zachary Schwartzman, conductor
4/2/17
North by Northwest Overture (1959) – Bernard Herrmann (1911–75)
Symphony No. 3 (1938) – Roy Harris (1898–1979)
Symphony No. 1, Low (1992) – Philip Glass (b. 1937)
James Bagwell, conductor
Since this is a two-fer, I’ll do a little less in-depth discussion than usual. On the plus side, both concerts had TON’s trademark Concert Quick Guide, which handily lists the pieces, composers’ dates, info on the premiere of each piece, and the (estimated) length of each piece (more about that later).
The March 5 overture was a solid opening, very brisk, building excitement from the get-go. The Messiaen had modern harmonies that were gentle yet brash at the same time. The second movement had slightly discordant phrases from the winds, sounding sort of mystical. The third was fanfare-like, while the last movement had serene strings to start with, though still with modern harmonies, ending with a literal sense of ascension as the violins played higher and higher in their registers.
The Tchaikovsky had a lengthy first movement with varied themes and sections including a brass fanfare to start with that made several returns. The second movement was a calm respite although it had drama of its own. The third was brisk but a bit subdued because of light pizzicato phrases. The fourth opened with a bang and then just kept on going. After a brief calm section, the fanfare from the first movement was reintroduced, followed by new material to round out the work.
The April 2 overture was more of a pastiche of the themes from the movie North by Northwest worked into a single composition. The mix of themes included phrases in 3/4 time as well as 6/8 time (think “America” from West Side Story). There was also a nice mix of percussion sounds including tambourine and castanets. The single-movement Harris symphony had an interesting build—strings (cellos front and center) joined by basses and violas, atonal but not harsh. Then welcome the brass and violas, with the woodwinds sneaking in, too. The music had touches of drama as well as touches of real beauty, including one section that was very reminiscent of the Aaron Copland sound (western motif/beef, it’s what’s for dinner).
I promised myself that I would give the Glass a try. I also chose an aisle seat, just in case. According to written and spoken program notes, the Glass symphony was based on (and indeed quoted material from) the 1977 David Bowie/Brian Eno album, Low. This meant next to nothing to me. Consider this—the Hermann overture was three minutes long. The Harris one-movement symphony was eighteen minutes long. The first movement (of three) of the Glass symphony was sixteen minutes long. Sixteen minutes of repetitive, repetitive, repetitive phrases that sounded like, “Someday I’ll wish upon a star” over and over and over and over. A second theme was eventually introduced that had a different motif repeated over and over and over again. And … that was it—I was out of there. Movements two and three were reportedly eleven and eighteen minutes (Harris’ entire symphony!) long, and I knew that it would not be enjoyable, enjoyable, enjoyable for me. But at least I did give it a try.
What was enjoyable was hearing this orchestra in a pair of very interesting programs. They’ll definitely stay on my radar (duh! I’m on their email list). As a side note, this entire post was written while listening to a free concert from Carnegie Hall, courtesy of WQXR (my local classical music station), which regularly presents Live from Carnegie Hall concerts. There’s lots of free stuff out there, in various guises, so get out there and explore.
ConcertMeister
Saturday, April 1, 2017
Soh Daiko (3/25/17)
Bang the drum slowly. Or not. This was my second (at least) experience with the drummers of Soh Daiko, and what a treat it was. As it turns out, it was not everyone’s cup of tea, as two moms with a small gaggle of kids left before the performance ended. I was enchanted and enthralled.
Soh Daiko is a group of drummers (based in NYC) patterned after Japanese drumming styles, both formal and improvisational. At any given time there were one to ten drummers on stage (plus some of them doubling on bamboo flutes, brass bells, conch shells, and gongs). Really cool stuff.
I could give you the names of individual pieces but that wouldn’t mean too much to you. Suffice it to say that there was a mix of solo, duet, and group drummers, sometimes with two people drumming on each side of one drum. Most pieces had four-based rhythms—ONE-two-THREE-four—but there were also subtle variations. And the range of volume (sans microphones, thank-you-very-much) was incredibly varied. Though I say, “Sans microphones,” microphones were used to introduce performers and pieces, as well as to amplify the sound of the bamboo flute from time to time.
Having said that I’ve seen Soh Daiko before, there were a couple of set pieces and characters that I recognized. One such character was the hapless fisherman, who eventually catches fish but then tends to fall asleep afterwards. Another set piece is “Shishimai” (“Lion Dance”), where a dancer/performer wears a Lion costume and performs to drum/bell accompaniment. The Lion costume has a real snappable jaw, which comes in handy when roaming through the audience and mildly terrorizing children. (Those of us who have read the program notes know that the Lion’s bite is good luck—alas, I don’t think many of the children read that part!) A little later, the fisherman returns and the Lion steals part of his catch, in a cute turn of events.
As silly and light-hearted as this seems, these are truly musical athletes on stage. They beat the drums, they move from place to place, and they execute intimate choreography (spinning from drum to drum, around a partner who is also spinning from drum to drum). When, as in the finale, that includes eight drummers, that is no slight feat.
New this year (at least new to me) was bringing children from the audience on stage and having them demonstrate the rudiments of drumming technique. In this case, we had three groups of six young drummers. The company members showed the stance—forward leg bent, drumsticks held aloft—and then went through a series of simple instructions. While the first group was going through their paces, one little girl waiting in the wings, so to speak, was moved to dance and spin in excitement. She later proved quite capable as a young drummer. In the third group of youngsters, one fellow mastered right hand-left hand One-two-Three-four, but then went to town banging, banging, banging. Kids do the darndest things!
From the introductory remarks, where the host kept saying “So-Day-koh,” (d’oh! – it's "So-Die-koh"), this was the fourth iteration of this concert at this venue. I hope to see many, many more.
ConcertMeister
Soh Daiko is a group of drummers (based in NYC) patterned after Japanese drumming styles, both formal and improvisational. At any given time there were one to ten drummers on stage (plus some of them doubling on bamboo flutes, brass bells, conch shells, and gongs). Really cool stuff.
I could give you the names of individual pieces but that wouldn’t mean too much to you. Suffice it to say that there was a mix of solo, duet, and group drummers, sometimes with two people drumming on each side of one drum. Most pieces had four-based rhythms—ONE-two-THREE-four—but there were also subtle variations. And the range of volume (sans microphones, thank-you-very-much) was incredibly varied. Though I say, “Sans microphones,” microphones were used to introduce performers and pieces, as well as to amplify the sound of the bamboo flute from time to time.
Having said that I’ve seen Soh Daiko before, there were a couple of set pieces and characters that I recognized. One such character was the hapless fisherman, who eventually catches fish but then tends to fall asleep afterwards. Another set piece is “Shishimai” (“Lion Dance”), where a dancer/performer wears a Lion costume and performs to drum/bell accompaniment. The Lion costume has a real snappable jaw, which comes in handy when roaming through the audience and mildly terrorizing children. (Those of us who have read the program notes know that the Lion’s bite is good luck—alas, I don’t think many of the children read that part!) A little later, the fisherman returns and the Lion steals part of his catch, in a cute turn of events.
As silly and light-hearted as this seems, these are truly musical athletes on stage. They beat the drums, they move from place to place, and they execute intimate choreography (spinning from drum to drum, around a partner who is also spinning from drum to drum). When, as in the finale, that includes eight drummers, that is no slight feat.
New this year (at least new to me) was bringing children from the audience on stage and having them demonstrate the rudiments of drumming technique. In this case, we had three groups of six young drummers. The company members showed the stance—forward leg bent, drumsticks held aloft—and then went through a series of simple instructions. While the first group was going through their paces, one little girl waiting in the wings, so to speak, was moved to dance and spin in excitement. She later proved quite capable as a young drummer. In the third group of youngsters, one fellow mastered right hand-left hand One-two-Three-four, but then went to town banging, banging, banging. Kids do the darndest things!
From the introductory remarks, where the host kept saying “So-Day-koh,” (d’oh! – it's "So-Die-koh"), this was the fourth iteration of this concert at this venue. I hope to see many, many more.
ConcertMeister
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