Jane’s Walks (5/6/18)

Day two of Jane’s Walks started bright and early in the Hamilton Heights section of Manhattan—the meeting point was 3570 Broadway, between 146th and 147th Streets. The Audubon Bird Murals Project Walk was based on just that, the Audubon Mural Project http://gitlerand.com/http/climateaudubonorg/article/audubon-mural-project/ (sorry, you'll have to copy and paste). The project came about in order to draw attention to 314 species of North American birds whose habitats are threatened due to climate change. So far, 82 have been painted. The goal is to create all 314, and to that end, future murals will try to incorporate more than one species per painting.

The very knowledgeable tour guide got started just after 9:00am. She also gave us a nifty handout of birds we might see that day (some/many of the murals are on roll-down security screens, so there was no guarantee that we would see them). Some, however, are always on view, since they’re painted on inset panels (four in a row at 601 W. 149th Street) or on building walls including 3668 Broadway, between 151st and 152nd Streets—look up, it’s huge; 3612 Broadway (149th/150th, at the right end of CTown); 149th Street, east of Amsterdam—on two walls; 1883–7 Amsterdam (153rd/154th, across the front of three buildings; 575 W. 155th Street (at Broadway), birds inside of a large bird; and in the windows of the service station at 3768 Broadway (155th/156th). This was one of the best walks I’ve taken to date.

But wait, there’s more! A bus and three trains later found me at Flushing Meadows Corona Park, the site of the 1939/1940 New York World’s Fair and the 1964/1965 New York World’s Fair. We learned that, technically, the ’64/’65 extravaganza was not a World’s Fair, since it was not officially sanctioned by the Bureau of International Expositions. Hey, we’re New Yorkers. It was a World’s Fair! But how did the park come about in the first place? For that we need to revisit our old foe Robert Moses.

He had a plan—or hoped to, at least—to develop the equivalent of Central Park in Queens, since that was the next area of urban flight/sprawl for those leaving Manhattan. The only problem was that the site was essentially marshlands that had been filled in with residential ash shipped in via trolleys and trains. Par for the course for a Robert Moses project, houses had to be demolished, residents displaced, and land grabbed by whatever means possible. Eventually a park was built, though it was never named for him, which was what he had in mind all along.

Both fairs, while successful in terms of accomplishments and excitement, ended up as financial losses. The 1939 fair introduced television to the mass public while the 1964 fair introduced (prepare for an ear worm) “It’s a Small World.” Disney built the ride in southern California, dismantled it to send to NYC, dismantled it again after the fair, and returned it to southern California. In addition, a lot of what were pools and water features for both fairs are still there, though not as actual pools. There are a few remnants of the ’39/’40 fair (very tall poles with eagles atop them) and a lot more from the ’64/’65 fair, notably the Unisphere, which I had never seen in person before, and the New York Pavilion, which is in the process of being renovated. The tour guide was extremely knowledgeable and interesting, to the point where I took very few notes since I was so busy listening. One of the most interesting facts I learned was that there was a time capsule created for the first fair that is to be opened in 6939, 5,000 years after the fair. A second capsule was created for the second fair, but it does not have to wait 5,000 years. It can be opened in 6939 along with the first one. The tour ran a little longer than expected, and I was farther away from the subway than I expected; as a result, I did not make it back into Manhattan for the third walk on my agenda. That was OK by me since the first two walks had been so terrific.

All in all, a very successful Jane’s Walks weekend for me. Looking forward to
May 2019.

WalkMeister

Jane’s Walks (5/4-5/18)

Jane’s Walks are walks that take place the first weekend of May that are led by ordinary citizens and honor Jane Jacobs, an activist known for thwarting Robert Moses when he was trying to develop a six-lane highway through lower Manhattan in the ’50s and ’60s. One of the interesting things about Jane’s Walks is that the group leaders create their own itinerary, based on their interests and local expertise. As usual, I prepared a very ambitious agenda and also, as usual, managed to not make it to all of the walks on my list.

After work on Friday, May 4, I caught up with a group whose leader was having us stroll through the west side in the low 70s, learning about architecture and some of the people who had lived in a few of the buildings that he highlighted. Our first stop was the Pythian, located at 135 W. 70th Street. Built as a meeting lodge for the Knights of Pythias, it has gone through several incarnations, including a stretch when Decca Records had a studio there. Notable artists who recorded there are Billie Holliday, Buddy Holly, and Sammy Davis Jr. We then strolled over to the Dorilton, at 171 W. 71st Street. Completed in 1902, it’s a marvelous example of the Beaux-Arts style and really quite an eyeful. We stopped in Verdi Square to ogle the Ansonia which, when it was built, had a farm on the roof. Among its roster of famous names, Babe Ruth, Theodore Dreiser, Arturo Toscanini, and Igor Stravinsky are some of the biggies. And its baths were, of course, the Continental Baths which played an early role in the careers of Bette Midler and Barry Manilow. The next stop was the Hotel Belleclaire, at 250 W. 77th Street, designed by architect Emory Roth and completed in 1903. There were more stops, but I ditched early and hightailed it home to the east side. The guide, who in real life is a guide for one of the bus tour companies, was extremely knowledgeable.

I had five walks on my schedule for Saturday but only made it to three of them, starting out in Brooklyn on a tour that had a literary flair. We began at the Eagle Warehouse & Storage building which was originally the offices of the Brooklyn Eagle. A notable editor there was none other than Walt Whitman. As we got further into Brooklyn Heights, we learned a lot about February House, which was run as a sort of artist’s commune in the 1940s. Notable names there included George Davis, Aaron Copland, Gypsy Rose Lee, W. H. Auden, Leonard Bernstein, Carson McCullers, and Benjamin Britten. Interesting aside, here—February House was spared but a lot of other buildings in this neighborhood were demolished when the BQE was being built. And activists saw to it that the BQE's design was changed, which is why it's a tiered highway. Oh, the brains behind the BQE? Robert Moses. We then went on to see Norman Mailer’s house and learned about some of the antics that Truman Capote got up to when he stayed there for a while. Since time was running out for me, I left the tour a little early and, eventually, made my way back to Manhattan (weekend subway service can be spotty and hit or miss sometimes).

Walk number two was Tin Pan Alley—this was more of a stroll than a walk because we stayed on one block of W. 28th Street. Witmark & Sons publishing house opened c.1893 at 49-51 W. 28th Street. Several other publishers, with their song pluggers (people hired to sing the new songs, in hopes of selling the sheet music), opened along the same stretch of the street. Harry Von Tilzer (interesting back story there), composer of Wait ’Til the Sun Shines Nellie and A Bird in a Gilded Cage, was generally referred to as the Dean of Tin Pan Alley. His brother Albert managed to pen a hit song as well with Take Me Out to the Ball Game (1908). Other titles mentioned in this tightly packed (lots of people, narrow sidewalks, Saturday morning shoppers) event included After the Ball, by Charles K. Harris (1891), and (I’m not making this up, you know) Dill Pickles, A Rag, by Charles Johnson (1906).

After an al fresco lunch (falafel sandwich on a park bench, er, on a pita but eaten while sitting on a park bench) I found walk number three, even though the meeting instructions were a bit unclear. This one focused on women with a connection to Washington Square Park. I didn’t take too many notes but I know that Eleanor Roosevelt figured into the mix as did Peggy Guggenheim. Other women authors, publishers, and artists were also mentioned, with the guide pointing out where they had lived and when. One name I did write down, however, was Baroness Elsa von Freytag-Loringhoven—how could I not share a name like that with you? She was part of the dada and avant-garde movements in New York. Even though I cut this walk short, I was thwarted by the MTA and missed the start of my fourth walk, in Harlem.

Rather than kill two hours before my fifth planned walk that would have ended in Times Square at 7:30pm (what was I thinking?), I decided to call it a day. In fact, I’m going to call this a post and then attack Sunday’s walks anew.

WalkMeister

Midday Masterpieces (5/2/18)

Noree Piano Trio
Lukas Stepp, violin; Yi Qun Xu, cello; Yoon Lee, piano

Piano Trio, Op. 97 (“Archduke”) – I. Allegro moderato – Beethoven
Piano Trio No. 4 (“Dumky”) – Dvořák

One of the good things, in a sense, about Midday Masterpieces is that it makes me go and do a little bit of research about different aspects of the performance since there is no printed program and, therefore, no program notes. It was announced from the stage what ‘Noree’ means, but of course I neglected to write it down. The internet yielded the following: “A Korean noun translated as playing, games, amusement, entertainment, and recreation,” which is similar to what I remember hearing. The ‘Archduke’ nickname for the trio comes from the fact that Beethoven dedicated it to Archduke Rudolph of Austria (in fact, he dedicated more than a dozen compositions to Rudolph). The movement the trio played was tuneful and pleasant with a second richer and fuller section that then segued into a brisk, dance-like section. It was a little on the long side but very enjoyable.

The ‘Dumky’ trio was Dvořák’s last composition in Europe before traveling to the United States in 1892. It has six movements that are played pretty much straight through without breaks. It began with a haunting and beautiful lament that smoothly moved into a bright and cheerful section. At times there were broad, dramatic gestures and then quixotic changes in mood. Rather than trying to figure out which sections I liked better than others, I just sat back and enjoyed them all. It sounded to me like some of the tunes might have been based on folk tunes. Both pieces were played very well by these talented Juilliard students.

The Midday Masterpieces series has one more concert this season and I’ve already made my reservation.

ConcertMeister

JACK Quartet (4/29/18)

Christopher Otto, violin; Austin Wulliman, violin; John Pickford Richards, viola; Jay Campbell, cello

Mouthpiece XXII (2015) – Erin Gee
String Quartet No. 8 (2018) – Philip Glass
Darmstadt Kindergarten (2015) – Mark Applebaum
Richter Textures (2011) – Amy Williams

This concert, which was a lot shorter than the Beethoven string quartet marathon of the day before, was part of the Carnegie Hall Neighborhood Concert series. Since the neighborhood was Washington Heights, I was joined by a former colleague who lives in the area. I warned her ahead of time that the works would all be extremely contemporary, and that we could bail if we wanted to. She did some online exploring and had a pretty good understanding of what we were in for. As it turned out, we both enjoyed the concert more than we thought we would.

The piece by Erin Gee is a continuation of her Mouthpiece series. Here, the string quartet players had to incorporate whistling into the performance as well as playing their instruments at the same time. At ten minutes in length, it was interesting and enjoyable.

Philip Glass’ string quartet was co-commissioned by Carnegie Hall and the Winnipeg New Music Festival and, if memory serves, was premiered by JACK at the hall. Not being a big fan of minimalism, I was pleasantly surprised at how much I enjoyed this piece. Yes, there were repeating phrases and motifs, but they didn’t seem as mind-numbing and Zen-like as other pieces by Glass that I’ve heard. Hmm, maybe my horizons are expanding.

Taken from an online description of Darmstadt Kindergarten written by the composer, the piece consists of a seventeen-measure “theme,” composed in two versions: instrumental and choreographic. Yep, these boys got quite the aerobic workout from this one. The instrumental theme is played by all four string players together and then, one by one, each instrument drops out and the player performs the choreographic theme, which is mostly silent but does include some percussive sounds. At the end, all four are performing choreographically, though the theme for each player is varied slightly. This was an amazing piece—I’ve literally never experienced anything like it. Bravo, JACK and bravo Mr. Applebaum!

Ms. Williams’ piece paled by comparison, after the shenanigans that came before it. It’s not a bad piece; it was, however, my least favorite on the program. The seven movements, played without pause, represent the layers of sound associated, in the composer’s mind, with seven different paintings by the German artist Gerhard Richter. It made sense, sort of.

A note about the quartet’s name: The original cellist of the group was Kevin McFarland (and one of the original violinists was Ari Streisfeld), so by using the first initial of the four first names, John, Ari, Christopher, and Kevin created JACK. Jay is a very capable cellist, but I guess they’re sticking with JACK (and Austin is no slouch either, but at least his name works better for the group's name).

ConcertMeister

String Quartet Marathon (4/28 and 29/18)

This will be a combination post of two different events. On Saturday, April 28, I attended a portion (actually two sessions of four) of the Juilliard String Quartet Survey presentation of their Beethoven String Quartet Marathon, while Sunday found me at a Carnegie Neighborhood Concert presentation of the
JACK Quartet. Since most (or all) of the names will be unknown to most (or all) of my readers, I won’t be naming all twenty-four string players, nor will I be outlining every movement of the five Beethoven quartets I heard.

String Quartet No. 2 in G major, Op. 18 No. 2 (1798–1801)
S.Q. No. 3 in D major, Op. 18 No. 3 (1798–1801)
S.Q. No. 10 in E-flat major, Op. 74 “Harp” (1809)
S.Q. No. 7 in F major, Op. 59 No. 1 (1808)
S.Q. No. 14 in C-sharp minor, Op. 131 (1826)

As announced from the stage, the Juilliard String Quartet Survey is a required course for all string players at Juilliard in their first year. The students are grouped together into foursomes by faculty members who then serve as mentors to walk the students through their assigned piece. The student quartets also have assigned practice times, which can serve as an anchor in their naturally busy first-year introduction to the school. All five of the student quartets played well. There were varying levels of success in terms of stage comportment, however.

When the first quartet finished, there was no clear indication of who was leading the group’s bows and who was deciding whether or not to take a second bow and when the group should exit the stage. These are things that come with experience, and I’m sure these students will keep gaining that experience. Understandably, there were audience members there in support of specific players. And the audience, in general, seemed to want the players to come back out for another bow, which is fairly usual, but it felt a little forced; indeed, they did not return.

That slightly awkward feeling continued when the second group came out on stage but things settled down eventually. As explained by the cellist, the numbering of Opuses and the pieces within them is sometimes confusing. As we can see from the list above, the first two quartets I heard were both from Opus 18. No. 2 followed by No. 3. But here’s one catch—No. 3 was the first of the three in Opus 18, Book 1 to be composed. Confused, yet? Don’t be. Just go with the flow. My good friend Wikipedia explains further that Opus 18 was published in 1801 in two books of three quartets each and they were composed in the following sequence: 3, 1, 2, 5, 4, 6. You can see why it’s sometimes confusing.

One of the violinists from the third student quartet explained that the “Harp” moniker is not one that was given by Beethoven. This is true of most ‘named’ pieces—the name is usually tacked on later. In this case, the string players end up playing pizzicato (plucking the strings rather than bowing them) at the same time in pairs, which is slightly like a harp. I didn’t quite see it that way, but the publisher’s nickname has stuck.

While the fourth group of students made a better entrance than some of the others, the microphone handling by the violist was a bit awkward. Also he ended up giving a little too much of an explanation of the piece for my taste. Some info is helpful, but I’d like to come to some conclusions on my own, as well. As I said, they’ll grow into this.

Of note about the fifth quartet that I heard is that, as explained from the stage, it was written in seven movements (definitely not the norm) to be played directly after one another. I seemed to experience slight breaks, though not actual breaks as in most quartets. And I have to share the title of the middle movement only because it tickled me so much. That fourth movement is: Andante ma non troppo e molto cantabile – Piu mosso – Andante moderato e lusinghiero – Adagio – Allegretto – Adagio, ma non troppo e semplice – Allegretto. And no, I could not discern them all during the playing. And for the record, I had to look up lusinghiero which means ‘in a soft tender manner’.

Hmm, maybe I’ll save JACK for another post. These five Beethoven quartets were enough of a marathon for me (and there were four more that were played that Saturday), and I’m guessing that these five were enough for you, too. Am I right?

ConcertMeister

Songbook (4/23/18)

The Music of Eli Bolin

Songbook primer—new, up-and-coming composers/lyricists. Eli Bolin has had some successes, though not on the great white way. While Mr. Bolin is a composer and lyricist, there were certain cases where he was composer only. More on that later. Songs on display were from Found; Volleygirls; The Last Song of Eddie Scourge; Wally Flynn; and, I kid you not, (An Advertisement for) English Breakfast Tea.

The opening song, Something that I Love, from Found, had a light rock feel and was sort of about ordinary stuff, but presented in a fun way. You’re Beautiful When You Play, from Volleygirls, was the nerd trying to impress the captain of the team, though it did build up his self-esteem.

A note about Found. It has lyrics taken from a magazine named Found, which posts notes and snippets of found messages that are then published, anonymously, in the magazine. As a consequence, no lyricist is listed for Barf Bag Breakup. Unfortunately my notes only say that I like the clear and direct way Mr. Bolin sets texts and lyrics. In Grimace’s Lament (a tribute to the McDonald’s character Grimace), he(?) asks, “Am I an eggplant in the nude?” OK—sort of clever.

One stand-alone song, A Good Guy with a Gun, had obvious political ramifications. I will not comment, other than to say that it was a good musical composition.

Christmas with My Dad, from a strange-sounding Christmas-themed musical recounted a child who only connected with his father via a TV Christmas special—his dad was on TV—no real-life connection at all. We’re talking bleak, folks. Yanking us into the 21st century, My Favorite Time of Day dealt with two 12-year-olds who met one summer but lived hundreds of miles apart. So they became Skype friends. How it all turns out? Tune in after another couple of workshops.

Bottom line, Mr. Bolin’s music and lyrics are fun, interesting, and OK. I wasn’t blown away. But hey, you never know.

You know you want to hear the story about the final song, right? Mr. Bolin and Sam Forman got a last-minute commission for a jingle. For English Breakfast Tea. They were broke and staying in a friend’s apartment. They had no money to order a food delivery and there was no food in the place. Oh, wait. There was a tray of brownies. They ate them. The brownies were apparently Alice B. Toklas’ recipe. The guys wrote and recorded a jingle in one night and then promptly fell asleep. Awakening very late the next morning, they sent off the cassette (yes, it was that long ago!), not even stopping to listen to what they'd recorded. Um, they did not get the job.

ConcertMeister

Carnegie Hall Neighborhood Concerts (4/21/18)

Sarah Nelson Craft, mezzo-soprano; Alden Gatt, piano; Karlos Rodriguez, cello

Frauenliebe und -leben, Op. 42 – Robert Schumann (1810–1856)
Loisaida, I Love You – Jessie Montgomery (b. 1981)
Mirabai Songs – John Harbison (b. 1938)
Siete canciones populares españolas – Manuel de Falla (1876–1946)

In a departure from the usual, there were no lyrics or translations provided although there were supertitles (in translation for the Schumann and de Falla). The Schumann is an eight-song cycle that was performed quite nicely here. It is a cycle that I am familiar with, having a wonderful performance on CD by Dame Janet Baker. It was a treat to hear a live performance—sort of like revisiting an old friend. Ms. Craft was suitably involved and expressive in rendering the music and texts, ably supported by Mr. Gatt.

More contemporary in styling, the Montgomery, for solo voice and cello, is a love song to a neighborhood–the lower East Side. It was a paean that was both gentle and dramatic and switched back and forth from English to Spanish, rather like the lower East Side itself. With its basically free form musical language, it was not quite as effective as I thought it would be.

Mirabai was a 16th century poet who was known as a free-spirited woman of her age. Harbison set six of her poems here, and they varied in style from serious to dramatic, to playful and interesting. They had a slightly exotic flavor which made sense since Mirabai was an Indian (not Native American) princess who devoted her life to praising Krishna, who she referred to as the Dark One. It’s not a work that I would necessarily seek out again. Of note, without texts in front of us, it was a little hard to follow from song to song. (In fact, Ms. Craft skipped one entirely but made up for it by singing it as an encore.)

In keeping with the song cycle theme, de Falla took seven Spanish folk songs and crafted them into this cycle. The first had a definite Latin flair while in the second, it was a little difficult to hear the vocalist, as the piano slightly overshadowed her. This was mostly due to the acoustics of the room (an upper West Side church). The third was slower and gentler but with a rapid accompaniment, simulating a guitar. The fourth had an extended piano opening and short, for the most part, vocal phrases. The fifth, Nana, was a lullaby. The sixth was vibrant, without going too far. The final movement was a vocalise at the start, with another pseudo-guitar accompaniment.

As noted above, the missed Harbison song was the first encore and a ‘Welcome to Spring’ song (Debussy?) was the official (though I'm not totally sure a second encore was warranted) encore.

ConcertMeister