Samantha and Roger Talmage
This was truly community theater, as in Samantha Talmage was the composer (I think? maybe they both were? maybe they both were responsible for book/music/lyrics?) but she was at least the Music Director and conductor of keyboard, bass, and drums. She was also the Older Annie Sullivan. Oh, did I forget to mention that this was, ostensibly, the story of Annie Sullivan, tutor and mentor to Helen Keller? Well it was. Unfortunately, and maybe because this was touted as a Musical Reading, we didn’t see much spitfire. Yes, there were a few blow-ups between hot-headed Annie and her hot-headed father, an Irish man who fell prey to the drink (hmm, is there truth to stereotypes?). But not enough to create a spitfire.
Musically speaking, clocking in at twenty-one musical numbers, this is way too many. And most were generic, sitting within the same key/tonality, with not much interesting movement. I actually was moved by the moments in the score and show when Annie’s mother, and her brother, died. Nicely done, if a bit too pat.
The performances (and I don’t usually do this) ranged from OK to passable to ‘gosh let’s put on a show’—not that there’s anything wrong with that. But at twenty-one musical numbers, it was somewhat numbing. What else to say? I’m thinking and hoping that additional dialogue could flesh out some of it. To me, this is a musical that would need lots and lots of work—trimming, focus, something—to make some better improvements. Even the title number didn’t have the oomph it needed. Back to the drawing board, I think.
ConcertMeister
Wednesday, July 26, 2017
Friday, July 21, 2017
Naumburg Orchestral Concerts – Orpheus Chamber Orchestra (7/18/17)
Brandenburg Concerto No. 3 in G Major, BWV 1048 (1721) – I. Allegro;
II. Adagio (Cadenza); III. Allegro – Johann Sebastian Bach (1685–1750)
Muse (2007) – I. brilliant, fiery; II. with a light touch, ornate; III. willful, deliberate – Christopher Theofanidis (1967–)
Brandenburg Concerto No. 2 in F Major, BWV 1047 (1721) – I. (no tempo indicated); II. Andante; III. Allegro assai – J.S. Bach
Brandenburg Concerto No. 5 in D Major, BWV 1050 (1721) – I. Allegro;
II. Affetuoso; III. Allegro – J.S. Bach
Brandenburg Concerto No. 6 in B-flat Major, BWV 1051 (1721) – I. Allegro; II. Adagio ma non tanto; III. Allegro – J.S. Bach
Orpheus is a chamber orchestra that plays without a conductor—instead, different players within the group take on leadership responsibilities for different pieces. When I looked at the program Tuesday evening, I thought to myself, “Won’t there be a lot of the same sort of music over and over?” It turns out that the Brandenburgs are different enough in terms of scoring and musical ideas that my fears were ungrounded. Brandenburg 3 was scored for ten strings and harpsichord. The first movement was mostly tutti (all playing together) and was bright but not flashy, with a nice mix of dynamics. A linking theme was a solid unison, including octaves, at the ends of phrases and sections. The slower second movement was very brief, and then it moved right into the third movement that was a chugging rhythmic section, the bulk of the movement. Very enjoyable.
The second piece was created as a companion piece to Brandenburg 3. Its first movement had modern rhythmic phrases in the style of Philip Glass or John Adams, but they were more accessible, aurally, and were passed back and forth from section to section in the orchestra. The second movement seemed feathery but grounded. A smoother section came into play, though still having modern harmonies and phrases leading to a rather eerie ending. The third movement was brisk and strong. It wandered a little—everything tied together at the end, but a little weakly, to my ear. This piece had a larger violin section than Br 3.
That said, reconfiguring the stage between pieces was somewhat disconcerting (pun intended). In this case, four music stands were brought to the forestage for the soloists, who were for the most part stepping out of the orchestra. The soloists for Branndenburg 2 were Elizabeth Mann, flute; Roni Gal-Ed, oboe; Caleb Hudson, trumpet; and Eric Wyrick, violin. The opening of the first movement seemed a little more sophisticated to me, possibly because of the added instruments. It had a nice brisk tempo. The second movement, quieter, was scored for flute, oboe, and violin, and was quite lovely. The third movement began with trumpet, oboe, and cello, soon joined by the violin and flute, and finally the entire orchestra. The movement is almost a mini concerto that was sort of playful but with solidity. I jotted a note that said, “Full sized trumpet?” When reading about Br 2 online, I found that it often uses a piccolo trumpet, and that might have been the case here, though it was not mentioned in the program notes. At any rate, the trumpet plays in a very high part of its range throughout, which lends a certain excitement to the work.
Brandenburg 5 had Ms. Mann, flute; Areta Zhulla, violin; and Paolo Bordignon, harpsichord as soloists. In general, though this piece was scored for smaller forces than the previous selection, the first movement was lively and featured the harpsichord a lot more, though with the violin and flute joining in as well, with the orchestral strings as accompaniment. An extensive harpsichord cadenza (a solo that can sometimes have improvisations included) led back to a brief recap of the opening of the movement. The second movement was harpsichord, violin and flute only with an opening that was quiet and almost sad. The fact that three instruments can hold our attention in this manner is a testament to the genius of Bach; he had us wrapped around his little finger (and rapt, as well). The third movement is violin, flute, harpsichord, and cello, before being joined by the strings in a stately but lively section, if that makes sense. The stateliness prevailed.
Brandenburg 6 is scored for very small forces—two violas, three cellos, one bass, and harpsichord (I think). The viola soloists were Dov Scheindlin and Nardo Poy. Even though the first movement had a bright feel and mode, the lower pitched instruments lent a slightly darker, heftier tone. The second movement didn’t quite seem to work as well for me, possibly due to the thinner forces. It was compelling at times, but just had too few compelling moments for me, and it had a slightly unresolved ending. The third movement was nice and bright, just the right antidote to the second movement. This one is often played as a stand-alone movement. It seems to sum up the Brandenburg experience, even with its reduced forces.
ConcertMeister
II. Adagio (Cadenza); III. Allegro – Johann Sebastian Bach (1685–1750)
Muse (2007) – I. brilliant, fiery; II. with a light touch, ornate; III. willful, deliberate – Christopher Theofanidis (1967–)
Brandenburg Concerto No. 2 in F Major, BWV 1047 (1721) – I. (no tempo indicated); II. Andante; III. Allegro assai – J.S. Bach
Brandenburg Concerto No. 5 in D Major, BWV 1050 (1721) – I. Allegro;
II. Affetuoso; III. Allegro – J.S. Bach
Brandenburg Concerto No. 6 in B-flat Major, BWV 1051 (1721) – I. Allegro; II. Adagio ma non tanto; III. Allegro – J.S. Bach
Orpheus is a chamber orchestra that plays without a conductor—instead, different players within the group take on leadership responsibilities for different pieces. When I looked at the program Tuesday evening, I thought to myself, “Won’t there be a lot of the same sort of music over and over?” It turns out that the Brandenburgs are different enough in terms of scoring and musical ideas that my fears were ungrounded. Brandenburg 3 was scored for ten strings and harpsichord. The first movement was mostly tutti (all playing together) and was bright but not flashy, with a nice mix of dynamics. A linking theme was a solid unison, including octaves, at the ends of phrases and sections. The slower second movement was very brief, and then it moved right into the third movement that was a chugging rhythmic section, the bulk of the movement. Very enjoyable.
The second piece was created as a companion piece to Brandenburg 3. Its first movement had modern rhythmic phrases in the style of Philip Glass or John Adams, but they were more accessible, aurally, and were passed back and forth from section to section in the orchestra. The second movement seemed feathery but grounded. A smoother section came into play, though still having modern harmonies and phrases leading to a rather eerie ending. The third movement was brisk and strong. It wandered a little—everything tied together at the end, but a little weakly, to my ear. This piece had a larger violin section than Br 3.
That said, reconfiguring the stage between pieces was somewhat disconcerting (pun intended). In this case, four music stands were brought to the forestage for the soloists, who were for the most part stepping out of the orchestra. The soloists for Branndenburg 2 were Elizabeth Mann, flute; Roni Gal-Ed, oboe; Caleb Hudson, trumpet; and Eric Wyrick, violin. The opening of the first movement seemed a little more sophisticated to me, possibly because of the added instruments. It had a nice brisk tempo. The second movement, quieter, was scored for flute, oboe, and violin, and was quite lovely. The third movement began with trumpet, oboe, and cello, soon joined by the violin and flute, and finally the entire orchestra. The movement is almost a mini concerto that was sort of playful but with solidity. I jotted a note that said, “Full sized trumpet?” When reading about Br 2 online, I found that it often uses a piccolo trumpet, and that might have been the case here, though it was not mentioned in the program notes. At any rate, the trumpet plays in a very high part of its range throughout, which lends a certain excitement to the work.
Brandenburg 5 had Ms. Mann, flute; Areta Zhulla, violin; and Paolo Bordignon, harpsichord as soloists. In general, though this piece was scored for smaller forces than the previous selection, the first movement was lively and featured the harpsichord a lot more, though with the violin and flute joining in as well, with the orchestral strings as accompaniment. An extensive harpsichord cadenza (a solo that can sometimes have improvisations included) led back to a brief recap of the opening of the movement. The second movement was harpsichord, violin and flute only with an opening that was quiet and almost sad. The fact that three instruments can hold our attention in this manner is a testament to the genius of Bach; he had us wrapped around his little finger (and rapt, as well). The third movement is violin, flute, harpsichord, and cello, before being joined by the strings in a stately but lively section, if that makes sense. The stateliness prevailed.
Brandenburg 6 is scored for very small forces—two violas, three cellos, one bass, and harpsichord (I think). The viola soloists were Dov Scheindlin and Nardo Poy. Even though the first movement had a bright feel and mode, the lower pitched instruments lent a slightly darker, heftier tone. The second movement didn’t quite seem to work as well for me, possibly due to the thinner forces. It was compelling at times, but just had too few compelling moments for me, and it had a slightly unresolved ending. The third movement was nice and bright, just the right antidote to the second movement. This one is often played as a stand-alone movement. It seems to sum up the Brandenburg experience, even with its reduced forces.
ConcertMeister
Monday, July 17, 2017
The Bardekova Ensemble (7/15/17)
Richard Paratley, flute; Ellen Bardekoff, oboe; Akari Yamamoto, clarinet; Shotaro Mori; bassoon; Nancy Vizza, horn
Overture to Nabucco (arranged for Woodwind Quintet) – Andante; Andante come primo; Andantino; Allegro – Giuseppe Verdi (1813–1901); arr. by Joachim Linckelmann
Divertimento – Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart (1756–1791)
Suite, Opus 57 – Canon – Moderato; Allegretto scherzando; Finale – Allegro leggiero – Charles Lefevre (1843–1917)
Sonata for Wind Quartet No. 5 – Allegro spiritoso; Andante assai; “Tempesta” – Gioachino Rossini (1792–1868)
The Cascades – Scott Joplin (1868–1917)
Take the A Train – Billy Strayhorn (1915–1967); arr. by Uma Karkala
La Vida Es Un Carnival – Victor Daniel, performed originally by Celia Cruz (1925–2003); arr. by Uma Karkala
First off, this was one of the strangest venues I’ve ever attended—the Woolworth Chapel in The Woodlawn Cemetery. As it turns out, the chapel is quite nice. And I’ll probably return to the cemetery. It’s vast, and I picked up a walking trail map of the thousands of trees there. It’s a bit of a trek to get to as it’s literally at the end of the line (the #4 train to Woodlawn). On to the music.
The Verdi opened with chorale-like phrases, lots of rich chords played by all five instrumentalists. After what sounded like a call to arms, a series of Hebrew themes followed. Next was the famed Slaves’ Chorus, with countermelodies, leading to a fairly rollicking finish. Throughout the afternoon, the playing was quite nice, though there were a few out of tune (very few and relatively minor) occurrences.
As announced from the stage, there was a slight question of whether the Mozart was actually written by Mozart. The bottom line is that the clarinetist thinks it’s Mozart and so do I. This flute, clarinet and bassoon trio began with perky, percolating phrases that were balanced by legato sections before returning to perky. The second movement was calmer and more relaxed though there was a contrasting bubbly section. (Bubbly and perky often feature in woodwind chamber music pieces.) The third movement definitely had a dance-like feel, with variations in the themes and tempos. The last movement was brisk but not too much so. All in all, it was a typical, pleasant enough Mozart piece.
The opening of the Lefevre (a composer new to me) piece was pretty, with phrases that bounced back and forth, being shared with all five players. It did have a hint of sadness about it. The second movement was brighter yet still fairly serious. I had a hard time distinguishing between the end of the second movement and the beginning of the third because there were several seemingly false endings. The last movement, though, was livelier, with a bit more substance, leading to a full, strong finish.
From the stage, we learned that the Rossini quartet was written at a very early age (guessed between sixteen and eighteen, though possibly even younger) and that it was originally scored for two violins, cello, and bass. This version, however, was created by Rossini himself. The first movement had fancy finger work for all of the players, which foreshadowed the flights of fancy in his operatic vocal lines. It was slightly frou-frou and definitely spiritoso, as the name of the movement implied. The second movement was a little bit darker but with movement in the phrases that was easily identified as Rossini. The third movement had a chorale-style opening, and then the flute and clarinet were featured. The storm referred to in the movement name started out as a few raindrops which quickly escalated to a tempest before receding to calm to finish the movement.
The Joplin rag was written and/or inspired by a water display at the 1904 St. Louis World’s Fair. Surprisingly, there is no arranger listed, so it’s possible that Joplin arranged his piano rag for quintet. In the hands of the wind players here, it reminded me of a calliope. It had the standard bells and whistles—syncopation, stop-time phrases, etc.—and percolated (there’s that word again) right along.
The arrangement of Take the A Train was the weakest on the program, in my opinion. It was okay, if a bit scattered, and included a nod to Gershwin at the beginning and then again at the end.
Not being familiar with the Celia Cruz song, I found this arrangement interesting and more fulfilling. Both it and the tune did have a party-like feel. It was a nice way to end a fun concert in a cemetery!
ConcertMeister
Overture to Nabucco (arranged for Woodwind Quintet) – Andante; Andante come primo; Andantino; Allegro – Giuseppe Verdi (1813–1901); arr. by Joachim Linckelmann
Divertimento – Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart (1756–1791)
Suite, Opus 57 – Canon – Moderato; Allegretto scherzando; Finale – Allegro leggiero – Charles Lefevre (1843–1917)
Sonata for Wind Quartet No. 5 – Allegro spiritoso; Andante assai; “Tempesta” – Gioachino Rossini (1792–1868)
The Cascades – Scott Joplin (1868–1917)
Take the A Train – Billy Strayhorn (1915–1967); arr. by Uma Karkala
La Vida Es Un Carnival – Victor Daniel, performed originally by Celia Cruz (1925–2003); arr. by Uma Karkala
First off, this was one of the strangest venues I’ve ever attended—the Woolworth Chapel in The Woodlawn Cemetery. As it turns out, the chapel is quite nice. And I’ll probably return to the cemetery. It’s vast, and I picked up a walking trail map of the thousands of trees there. It’s a bit of a trek to get to as it’s literally at the end of the line (the #4 train to Woodlawn). On to the music.
The Verdi opened with chorale-like phrases, lots of rich chords played by all five instrumentalists. After what sounded like a call to arms, a series of Hebrew themes followed. Next was the famed Slaves’ Chorus, with countermelodies, leading to a fairly rollicking finish. Throughout the afternoon, the playing was quite nice, though there were a few out of tune (very few and relatively minor) occurrences.
As announced from the stage, there was a slight question of whether the Mozart was actually written by Mozart. The bottom line is that the clarinetist thinks it’s Mozart and so do I. This flute, clarinet and bassoon trio began with perky, percolating phrases that were balanced by legato sections before returning to perky. The second movement was calmer and more relaxed though there was a contrasting bubbly section. (Bubbly and perky often feature in woodwind chamber music pieces.) The third movement definitely had a dance-like feel, with variations in the themes and tempos. The last movement was brisk but not too much so. All in all, it was a typical, pleasant enough Mozart piece.
The opening of the Lefevre (a composer new to me) piece was pretty, with phrases that bounced back and forth, being shared with all five players. It did have a hint of sadness about it. The second movement was brighter yet still fairly serious. I had a hard time distinguishing between the end of the second movement and the beginning of the third because there were several seemingly false endings. The last movement, though, was livelier, with a bit more substance, leading to a full, strong finish.
From the stage, we learned that the Rossini quartet was written at a very early age (guessed between sixteen and eighteen, though possibly even younger) and that it was originally scored for two violins, cello, and bass. This version, however, was created by Rossini himself. The first movement had fancy finger work for all of the players, which foreshadowed the flights of fancy in his operatic vocal lines. It was slightly frou-frou and definitely spiritoso, as the name of the movement implied. The second movement was a little bit darker but with movement in the phrases that was easily identified as Rossini. The third movement had a chorale-style opening, and then the flute and clarinet were featured. The storm referred to in the movement name started out as a few raindrops which quickly escalated to a tempest before receding to calm to finish the movement.
The Joplin rag was written and/or inspired by a water display at the 1904 St. Louis World’s Fair. Surprisingly, there is no arranger listed, so it’s possible that Joplin arranged his piano rag for quintet. In the hands of the wind players here, it reminded me of a calliope. It had the standard bells and whistles—syncopation, stop-time phrases, etc.—and percolated (there’s that word again) right along.
The arrangement of Take the A Train was the weakest on the program, in my opinion. It was okay, if a bit scattered, and included a nod to Gershwin at the beginning and then again at the end.
Not being familiar with the Celia Cruz song, I found this arrangement interesting and more fulfilling. Both it and the tune did have a party-like feel. It was a nice way to end a fun concert in a cemetery!
ConcertMeister
Saturday, July 15, 2017
Naumburg Orchestral Concert (7/11/2017)
The Knights
Eric Jacobsen, conductor
Alex Sopp, flute
Fantasia Upon One Note (1680) – Henry Purcell (1659–1695)
Common Tones in Simple Time (1979) – John Adams (b. 1947)
Flute Concerto with Orchestra (World Premiere) (2017?) – Judd Greenstein (b. 1979)
Symphony No. 40 in G Minor, K. 550 (1788) I. Molto allegro; II. Andante; III. Menuetto. Allegro–Trio; Finale. Allegro assai – Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart (1756–1791)
The first piece was played sans conductor and while it was serene, it wasn’t exactly on one note only; the tonality though was definitely static. A livelier section followed, but still with that pervasive one-note feel. Then the conductor arrived. Huh? The first piece seamlessly segued into the Adams, which was built on the same model as the first piece. This one had a more rhythmic range plus a few more dissonances. It was minimalist (lots of repetitive tiny phrases) but not in a grating way. Still, it didn’t move me in any strong way, positive or negative. It seemed like the soundtrack to a train ride—but I didn’t know how long the journey would be or where I would end up.
Alex Sopp is a member of The Knights who stepped out as soloist for the world premiere of Mr. Greenstein’s flute concerto. He was on hand to give us a little insight and, as many (I hope) of you know, I am always happy to hear living composers comment on their compositions. My first reaction was of rapid solo flute phrases against a relatively calm orchestra. What followed was a wide open sound, similar to that of Copland, yet the insistent flute continued. The varied rhythms and tempos were interesting enough but it still meandered and wandered a bit too much for me. From where to where? Your guess would be as good as mine.
The Mozart opened with a very familiar, to me, theme. Of note, the orchestra played conductorless and standing, cellos excepted, with pleasant tunes that were a mix of gentle and energetic. The al fresco setting added to my enjoyment. The second movement was less familiar, relatively calm and pastoral but with bites of fuller, dramatic flourishes. The fireflies contributed to this. The third movement had varied dance rhythms with tunes that had a definite heft to them, before finishing with a quieter section. The last movement sort of snuck up on me but then built in volume and intensity—it bubbled along without being frivolous. (Hmmm, maybe I actually like mature Mozart.) It was still formulaic but it had a little more to say.
I’m a big fan of the Naumburg Concerts, and The Knights have been here for nine seasons. I’m not certain that I’ve seen all of their appearances but I know that I’ve been here for most of them. A big thank-you to them, the Naumburg Orchestral Concerts and WQXR (the concerts are broadcast live, in case you can’t make it to Central Park). There is a lot of quality free stuff out there, if you make the effort to seek it out. (Off my soap box now.)
ConcertMeister
Eric Jacobsen, conductor
Alex Sopp, flute
Fantasia Upon One Note (1680) – Henry Purcell (1659–1695)
Common Tones in Simple Time (1979) – John Adams (b. 1947)
Flute Concerto with Orchestra (World Premiere) (2017?) – Judd Greenstein (b. 1979)
Symphony No. 40 in G Minor, K. 550 (1788) I. Molto allegro; II. Andante; III. Menuetto. Allegro–Trio; Finale. Allegro assai – Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart (1756–1791)
The first piece was played sans conductor and while it was serene, it wasn’t exactly on one note only; the tonality though was definitely static. A livelier section followed, but still with that pervasive one-note feel. Then the conductor arrived. Huh? The first piece seamlessly segued into the Adams, which was built on the same model as the first piece. This one had a more rhythmic range plus a few more dissonances. It was minimalist (lots of repetitive tiny phrases) but not in a grating way. Still, it didn’t move me in any strong way, positive or negative. It seemed like the soundtrack to a train ride—but I didn’t know how long the journey would be or where I would end up.
Alex Sopp is a member of The Knights who stepped out as soloist for the world premiere of Mr. Greenstein’s flute concerto. He was on hand to give us a little insight and, as many (I hope) of you know, I am always happy to hear living composers comment on their compositions. My first reaction was of rapid solo flute phrases against a relatively calm orchestra. What followed was a wide open sound, similar to that of Copland, yet the insistent flute continued. The varied rhythms and tempos were interesting enough but it still meandered and wandered a bit too much for me. From where to where? Your guess would be as good as mine.
The Mozart opened with a very familiar, to me, theme. Of note, the orchestra played conductorless and standing, cellos excepted, with pleasant tunes that were a mix of gentle and energetic. The al fresco setting added to my enjoyment. The second movement was less familiar, relatively calm and pastoral but with bites of fuller, dramatic flourishes. The fireflies contributed to this. The third movement had varied dance rhythms with tunes that had a definite heft to them, before finishing with a quieter section. The last movement sort of snuck up on me but then built in volume and intensity—it bubbled along without being frivolous. (Hmmm, maybe I actually like mature Mozart.) It was still formulaic but it had a little more to say.
I’m a big fan of the Naumburg Concerts, and The Knights have been here for nine seasons. I’m not certain that I’ve seen all of their appearances but I know that I’ve been here for most of them. A big thank-you to them, the Naumburg Orchestral Concerts and WQXR (the concerts are broadcast live, in case you can’t make it to Central Park). There is a lot of quality free stuff out there, if you make the effort to seek it out. (Off my soap box now.)
ConcertMeister
Monday, July 10, 2017
Rite of Summer (7/8/17)
Pamela Z, vocalist/composer/electronics guru
Here’s how this one came about. I went to Governors Island on Independence Day and had a good time. But a lot of the onsite exhibits were not open, so I decided to return on the weekend. It just so happened that the day I was there was also the Rite of Summer concert. To be honest, I had read about this one earlier in the spring and sort of crossed it off my list. But I figured, I’m there, the concert’s there, I’ll take a listen. For the record, Pamela Z uses MAX MSP and Isadora software on a MacBook Pro, along with custom MIDI controllers. If you’re like me, you just heard, “La-la-la-la-la!” in your head.
What all this boils down to is that she samples and loops some of her vocal sounds, sometimes with words as well, and then manipulates them with hand-controlled gestures that stretch, adapt, and totally transform them via the electronic equipment onstage with her. The best that can be said is that she definitely has a set of pipes and knows how to use them. As to the rest of the electronic manipulations, they didn’t do it for me. I did enjoy seeing the navel-gazing T-shirt du jour on the guy in front of me—the difference between theory and practice … is greater in practice than in theory.
The rest of the day was quite enjoyable, seeing sculptures in one building, photographs in another, and art created by current and former inmates in a third building. Additionally, The New York Audubon Society has a presence on the island this summer. I caught part of a bird-watching walk (by leaving collateral, you can borrow binoculars from the Society). I saw black-backed gulls, herring gulls, laughing gulls, barn swallows, cormorants, and terns. The terns are a specialty on Governors Island, as there have been projects to increase their breeding grounds. On one pier, there are thirty-three pairs nesting, while another pier has sixty nesting pairs. The nesting areas are a joint project between a couple of organizations trying to set up safe areas, specifically that are free of predators. Many of the terns are being banded. I also saw a pair of nesting gulls on a rooftop.
Governors Island is a great day trip for New Yorkers or visitors. I highly recommend it. The next and final Rite of Summer concert is the cutting-edge, NYC-based ensemble Contemporaneous, on August 8, with performances at 1:00pm and 3:00pm. I haven’t yet decided whether I’ll attend. I’ll play it by ear. (Ba-dum-bum ching!)
ConcertMeister
Here’s how this one came about. I went to Governors Island on Independence Day and had a good time. But a lot of the onsite exhibits were not open, so I decided to return on the weekend. It just so happened that the day I was there was also the Rite of Summer concert. To be honest, I had read about this one earlier in the spring and sort of crossed it off my list. But I figured, I’m there, the concert’s there, I’ll take a listen. For the record, Pamela Z uses MAX MSP and Isadora software on a MacBook Pro, along with custom MIDI controllers. If you’re like me, you just heard, “La-la-la-la-la!” in your head.
What all this boils down to is that she samples and loops some of her vocal sounds, sometimes with words as well, and then manipulates them with hand-controlled gestures that stretch, adapt, and totally transform them via the electronic equipment onstage with her. The best that can be said is that she definitely has a set of pipes and knows how to use them. As to the rest of the electronic manipulations, they didn’t do it for me. I did enjoy seeing the navel-gazing T-shirt du jour on the guy in front of me—the difference between theory and practice … is greater in practice than in theory.
The rest of the day was quite enjoyable, seeing sculptures in one building, photographs in another, and art created by current and former inmates in a third building. Additionally, The New York Audubon Society has a presence on the island this summer. I caught part of a bird-watching walk (by leaving collateral, you can borrow binoculars from the Society). I saw black-backed gulls, herring gulls, laughing gulls, barn swallows, cormorants, and terns. The terns are a specialty on Governors Island, as there have been projects to increase their breeding grounds. On one pier, there are thirty-three pairs nesting, while another pier has sixty nesting pairs. The nesting areas are a joint project between a couple of organizations trying to set up safe areas, specifically that are free of predators. Many of the terns are being banded. I also saw a pair of nesting gulls on a rooftop.
Governors Island is a great day trip for New Yorkers or visitors. I highly recommend it. The next and final Rite of Summer concert is the cutting-edge, NYC-based ensemble Contemporaneous, on August 8, with performances at 1:00pm and 3:00pm. I haven’t yet decided whether I’ll attend. I’ll play it by ear. (Ba-dum-bum ching!)
ConcertMeister
Thursday, July 6, 2017
Back to the Barge (7/1/17)
This Saturday afternoon freebie was pretty much a dress rehearsal for their Saturday evening Bargemusic concert. Mark Peskanov, violin; Evan Drachman, cello; and Doris Stevenson, piano played a Bach Sonata for Violin and Keyboard in E Major, Beethoven’s Seven Variations on a Theme of Mozart, and the Dvorák “Dumky” Trio in E minor.
The opening (adagio?) [no printed program] of the Bach was pleasant and straightforward, with the piano as accompaniment yet somehow as an equal partner. The second movement opened with a piano solo that was then joined by the violin for a livelier, sunny, much more extensive movement. The third, slower, movement also opened with a piano intro followed by the violin with a tune that sort of tugged at the heartstrings, but not in a sappy way. There were a couple of sections with lots of double stops (essentially the violin playing harmony by itself) leading to an up-in-the-air ending. The final movement (presto?) was lively, jaunty, and just plain fun. Mr. Peskanov loves his Bach. Ms. Stevenson was with him all the way.
Beethoven’s Variations on a Theme from The Magic Flute is my kind of Mozart. While I couldn’t really discern each movement/variation, there was the tune in the piano, then the cello, then segue(?) into the other movements. One was somber and quite nice, while another slower one had nice filigree work for both the cellist and the pianist. I preferred the slower, more somber movements to the quicker (and somewhat sillier) movements. But that’s just me and Mozart.
The Dvorák “Dumky” Trio, in six movements, was rich and dramatic from the very beginning (cello and piano), then the solo violin was joined by the cello. It’s hard for me to hazard a guess, but I found myself wondering whether this was Dvorák exploring a brash, new compositional style. Think about it—things we take for granted, compositionally, were brand new at one point; we grew into them. All three players were then into a section that reminded me of Hungarian/Romanian dances. It was a very eclectic work in terms of style. At one point, I had the feeling of the piano providing a tolling of bells section, but with all three players great in their own ways. After a sort of chorale feel, followed by a cello tune against a piano/violin ostinato, I just stopped writing and basked in listening. I think that’s the best thing to ‘not be said’ about a concert.
Make no mistake, we were on a barge, albeit docked. There were several relatively strong wakes that set us slightly atilt. That’s part of the fun about these Saturday afternoon concerts—you’re never quite sure what you’re going to get, musically or nautically.
ConcertMeister
The opening (adagio?) [no printed program] of the Bach was pleasant and straightforward, with the piano as accompaniment yet somehow as an equal partner. The second movement opened with a piano solo that was then joined by the violin for a livelier, sunny, much more extensive movement. The third, slower, movement also opened with a piano intro followed by the violin with a tune that sort of tugged at the heartstrings, but not in a sappy way. There were a couple of sections with lots of double stops (essentially the violin playing harmony by itself) leading to an up-in-the-air ending. The final movement (presto?) was lively, jaunty, and just plain fun. Mr. Peskanov loves his Bach. Ms. Stevenson was with him all the way.
Beethoven’s Variations on a Theme from The Magic Flute is my kind of Mozart. While I couldn’t really discern each movement/variation, there was the tune in the piano, then the cello, then segue(?) into the other movements. One was somber and quite nice, while another slower one had nice filigree work for both the cellist and the pianist. I preferred the slower, more somber movements to the quicker (and somewhat sillier) movements. But that’s just me and Mozart.
The Dvorák “Dumky” Trio, in six movements, was rich and dramatic from the very beginning (cello and piano), then the solo violin was joined by the cello. It’s hard for me to hazard a guess, but I found myself wondering whether this was Dvorák exploring a brash, new compositional style. Think about it—things we take for granted, compositionally, were brand new at one point; we grew into them. All three players were then into a section that reminded me of Hungarian/Romanian dances. It was a very eclectic work in terms of style. At one point, I had the feeling of the piano providing a tolling of bells section, but with all three players great in their own ways. After a sort of chorale feel, followed by a cello tune against a piano/violin ostinato, I just stopped writing and basked in listening. I think that’s the best thing to ‘not be said’ about a concert.
Make no mistake, we were on a barge, albeit docked. There were several relatively strong wakes that set us slightly atilt. That’s part of the fun about these Saturday afternoon concerts—you’re never quite sure what you’re going to get, musically or nautically.
ConcertMeister
Monday, July 3, 2017
Naumburg Orchestral Concerts (6/27/17)
Ensemble LPR
Lara St. John, violin
Starburst (2012) – Jessie Montgomery (1981–)
The Lark Ascending (1920) – Ralph Vaughan Williams (1872–1958)
Maralinga (US Premiere) – Matthew Hindson (1968–)
Concerto in E-flat, “Dumbarton Oaks” (1937–1938) – Igor Stravinsky
(1882–1971)
Variations on a Theme of Frank Bridge, Op. 10 (1936) – Benjamin Britten (1913–1976)
First, some housekeeping. LPR = (Le) Poisson Rouge (their punctuation, not mine), a chic downtown classical venue that used to be a classic chic downtown venue. I’ve never been. Probably never will. That said, they are damn fine musicians. Also, the sound balances took a while for the kinks to be worked out. Starburst was a pleasant enough opening, for string orchestra, that had rhythmic variations and a modern feel while still being listenable. I wanted a little more burst from my starburst.
Ms. St. John joined the strings for the Vaughan Williams and there was a nice interplay with the soloist and orchestra. A second theme was sort of a call and response. In some cases, the orchestra was a wash of color supporting the solo violin; at other times they were equal partners. Some of it was hard to hear. In fact, after the RVW a techie adjusted the amplification of Ms. St. John’s violin.
The Hindson was much more modern, opening with a bit of a bang followed by an extended violin solo. As in the Vaughan Williams, Ms. St. John gave orchestral cues for specific entrances while she was playing. (The entire concert was performed sans conductor.) One section was rather harsh and somewhat primal, hinting at the darker side of Stravinsky. On the whole, it was not very easy to follow, or know when it actually ended. This one will not make my Top 10 list.
Speaking of the darker side of Stravinsky, Dumbarton Oaks is not it. Composed for the 30th anniversary of a couple and premiered for their party at their Washington, DC estate, it was modern sounding but certainly not so much as compared to other primitive-aspect Stravinsky and certainly not as compared to the earlier Montgomery or Hindson. It was really quite tuneful in its own way while continuing the rhythmic drive often associated with Stravinsky. The winds and brass were added for this work, and the winds featured a little more prominently in a second section that was gentle yet still bouncy. Even with its inherent primitive rhythms, lively easy-to-listen-to tunes, and mild dissonances, the piece chugged along to a very successful conclusion.
The Britten has eleven movements. When looking at the program, I decided to not comment on each one. As it turns out, I ended up writing about each movement—whether or not I include all of my notes remains to be seen. Oh, hell—stream of consciousness, here I come. (i) The most tuneful beginning of the evening, with a pastoral, English feel; (ii) gentle and pleasant; (iii) quicker, but not urgent, and bright; (iv) lyrical waltz tempo with just a touch of melancholy; (v) a bit of drama (homage à Rossini), with a touch of humor, too; (vi) sturdy dance feel yet still with graceful hints of Bach; (vii) almost poking fun at a Viennese waltz, though adding respect and a few twists; (viii) busy buzzy strings, plus a rhythmic section; (ix) open strings with a slightly ominous bass rhythm—the movement (longest?) was, oddly, very moving; (x) the most modern, but seeming to recall fragments of back-and-forth chat, as a theme; (xi) a brisk intro followed by more of a sense of fugue than an actual fugue—with touches of earlier perpetual motion and earlier lyricism followed by a calm, almost stately section.
What a perfect way to end a great concert on a lovely early summer evening.
ConcertMeister
Lara St. John, violin
Starburst (2012) – Jessie Montgomery (1981–)
The Lark Ascending (1920) – Ralph Vaughan Williams (1872–1958)
Maralinga (US Premiere) – Matthew Hindson (1968–)
Concerto in E-flat, “Dumbarton Oaks” (1937–1938) – Igor Stravinsky
(1882–1971)
Variations on a Theme of Frank Bridge, Op. 10 (1936) – Benjamin Britten (1913–1976)
First, some housekeeping. LPR = (Le) Poisson Rouge (their punctuation, not mine), a chic downtown classical venue that used to be a classic chic downtown venue. I’ve never been. Probably never will. That said, they are damn fine musicians. Also, the sound balances took a while for the kinks to be worked out. Starburst was a pleasant enough opening, for string orchestra, that had rhythmic variations and a modern feel while still being listenable. I wanted a little more burst from my starburst.
Ms. St. John joined the strings for the Vaughan Williams and there was a nice interplay with the soloist and orchestra. A second theme was sort of a call and response. In some cases, the orchestra was a wash of color supporting the solo violin; at other times they were equal partners. Some of it was hard to hear. In fact, after the RVW a techie adjusted the amplification of Ms. St. John’s violin.
The Hindson was much more modern, opening with a bit of a bang followed by an extended violin solo. As in the Vaughan Williams, Ms. St. John gave orchestral cues for specific entrances while she was playing. (The entire concert was performed sans conductor.) One section was rather harsh and somewhat primal, hinting at the darker side of Stravinsky. On the whole, it was not very easy to follow, or know when it actually ended. This one will not make my Top 10 list.
Speaking of the darker side of Stravinsky, Dumbarton Oaks is not it. Composed for the 30th anniversary of a couple and premiered for their party at their Washington, DC estate, it was modern sounding but certainly not so much as compared to other primitive-aspect Stravinsky and certainly not as compared to the earlier Montgomery or Hindson. It was really quite tuneful in its own way while continuing the rhythmic drive often associated with Stravinsky. The winds and brass were added for this work, and the winds featured a little more prominently in a second section that was gentle yet still bouncy. Even with its inherent primitive rhythms, lively easy-to-listen-to tunes, and mild dissonances, the piece chugged along to a very successful conclusion.
The Britten has eleven movements. When looking at the program, I decided to not comment on each one. As it turns out, I ended up writing about each movement—whether or not I include all of my notes remains to be seen. Oh, hell—stream of consciousness, here I come. (i) The most tuneful beginning of the evening, with a pastoral, English feel; (ii) gentle and pleasant; (iii) quicker, but not urgent, and bright; (iv) lyrical waltz tempo with just a touch of melancholy; (v) a bit of drama (homage à Rossini), with a touch of humor, too; (vi) sturdy dance feel yet still with graceful hints of Bach; (vii) almost poking fun at a Viennese waltz, though adding respect and a few twists; (viii) busy buzzy strings, plus a rhythmic section; (ix) open strings with a slightly ominous bass rhythm—the movement (longest?) was, oddly, very moving; (x) the most modern, but seeming to recall fragments of back-and-forth chat, as a theme; (xi) a brisk intro followed by more of a sense of fugue than an actual fugue—with touches of earlier perpetual motion and earlier lyricism followed by a calm, almost stately section.
What a perfect way to end a great concert on a lovely early summer evening.
ConcertMeister
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)