As usual, without a printed program, my notes are sometimes jumbled. Saturday afternoon had two violinists, Mark Peskanov and Margo Didn’t Catch Her Last Name, and pianist Olga Vinokur.
The concert began with a Telemann Sonata for Two Violins. In three movements, it was interesting in that each movement was a strict canon. The first was bright, yet slightly sober; the second was slower; and the third was brisker than the first, longer, and a little more elaborate.
Mr. Peskanov then played a movement from Bach’s Partita #3 in e minor. It was very brisk with constant rhythmic energy, very intricate, and almost perpetual motion.
Ms. Vinokur joined Mr. Peskanov for the first movement of the Beethoven Kreuzer Sonata. Opening with solo violin, it was slow and solid, in a good way, with the piano contributing to that solidity. A second section was brisker and still dramatic. A song-like section followed but then went back to fast and furious. The entire second section was repeated, with slight variations, then into another powerful, brisk section. After a couple of false endings, it finished with a bang.
Bouncing back to two violins, the pair played the second movement of a Sonata for Two Violins by Jean-Marie Leclair. It was nicely rhythmic and was more of a duo. What I mean is that in the Telemann, the second voice of each canon seemed slightly subservient to the first. In the Leclair, the writing seemed more balanced to me. This may sound strange, but it was cheerful though having hints of sadness and sweetness.
The last piece on the program was a Schubert Fantasie for Violin and Piano. Oddly, it was announced from the stage that it was five short movements. In trying to find out more about the piece, I’ve seen it described as six movements and as four. Some of the inconsistency may be that one of the movements includes variations on a song theme, and the movements have no real breaks between them. But I digress.
The piece opened with rapid piano accompaniment to languid phrases from the violin, romantic in style without being saccharine. I was reminded of a snippet of bird song before being launched into what sounded like a gypsy folk song. The tune then switched to the piano with the violin acting as accompaniment, a solid duet that morphed into a dance-like section that was playful but not frivolous. After what seemed like a chorale tune, we got that previously mentioned Schubert song. Overall, my impression was that the piece had everything there except the kitchen sink, but in a good way, although by going into overdrive, it almost veered into overkill. But it was (as were all of the pieces) received enthusiastically by a very appreciative audience.
ConcertMeister
Tuesday, July 31, 2018
Friday, July 20, 2018
Carnegie Hall Citywide (7/18/18)
Brave Combo
Carl Finch, Keyboard and Accordion; Danny O’Brien, Brass; Jeffrey Barnes, Woodwinds; Lyle Atkinson, Bass; Alan Emert Mansfield, Drums
Carnegie Hall Citywide is the program formerly known as Neighborhood Concerts. Why the name change occurred, I have no clue. This concert took place in Bryant Park—a first for Carnegie sponsoring concerts there.
Brave Combo, from Denton, Texas, provided some good old-fashioned fun music. Audience participation was encouraged, so folks danced polkas, a waltz, and the ever-popular conga line. I observed. The concert kicked off with a polka played by electric keyboard, trumpet, clarinet, electric bass, and drums. Other combinations switched out trombone for the trumpet and saxophone (tenor and soprano, I think) for the clarinet. And at least one number swapped accordion for keyboard.
As there was no printed program, I tried taking notes as things were announced from the stage. We heard salsas, merengues, and a cumbia (a Colombian rhythm and dance form) version of the Mission Impossible theme. A tribute to the twist was a mini-medley of Hernando’s Hideaway and Hava Nagila. The music for a Greek circle dance (tsakonikos?) seemed very similar to klezmer music. The Clarinet Polka had a cute Rhapsody in Blue riff as its intro.
After a while, though, I decided that I didn’t need to stay for the entire concert. The informality of the open-air, park setting allowed me to feel OK about that. And, as announced from the stage earlier, the Hokey Pokey was scheduled to make an appearance. I wanted to make sure I avoided that.
I’m certainly glad I went, and I had a good enough time. Weather permitting, I’ll be back on July 25th for a classical music concert (5:30 p.m., for about ninety minutes) featuring a group called Decoda. Also, these Citywide concerts are part of a full summer season of events under the umbrella name of Bryant Park Picnics, featuring music, theater, and dance. I hope to take in another open-air production of Twelfth Night toward the end of the month. There’s a lot of stuff out there, and I’m always on the lookout for more.
ConcertMeister
Carl Finch, Keyboard and Accordion; Danny O’Brien, Brass; Jeffrey Barnes, Woodwinds; Lyle Atkinson, Bass; Alan Emert Mansfield, Drums
Carnegie Hall Citywide is the program formerly known as Neighborhood Concerts. Why the name change occurred, I have no clue. This concert took place in Bryant Park—a first for Carnegie sponsoring concerts there.
Brave Combo, from Denton, Texas, provided some good old-fashioned fun music. Audience participation was encouraged, so folks danced polkas, a waltz, and the ever-popular conga line. I observed. The concert kicked off with a polka played by electric keyboard, trumpet, clarinet, electric bass, and drums. Other combinations switched out trombone for the trumpet and saxophone (tenor and soprano, I think) for the clarinet. And at least one number swapped accordion for keyboard.
As there was no printed program, I tried taking notes as things were announced from the stage. We heard salsas, merengues, and a cumbia (a Colombian rhythm and dance form) version of the Mission Impossible theme. A tribute to the twist was a mini-medley of Hernando’s Hideaway and Hava Nagila. The music for a Greek circle dance (tsakonikos?) seemed very similar to klezmer music. The Clarinet Polka had a cute Rhapsody in Blue riff as its intro.
After a while, though, I decided that I didn’t need to stay for the entire concert. The informality of the open-air, park setting allowed me to feel OK about that. And, as announced from the stage earlier, the Hokey Pokey was scheduled to make an appearance. I wanted to make sure I avoided that.
I’m certainly glad I went, and I had a good enough time. Weather permitting, I’ll be back on July 25th for a classical music concert (5:30 p.m., for about ninety minutes) featuring a group called Decoda. Also, these Citywide concerts are part of a full summer season of events under the umbrella name of Bryant Park Picnics, featuring music, theater, and dance. I hope to take in another open-air production of Twelfth Night toward the end of the month. There’s a lot of stuff out there, and I’m always on the lookout for more.
ConcertMeister
Saturday, July 14, 2018
The 85th Annual Pageant of the Masters (7/14/18)
[N.B. The following is a guest post by BrotherMeister, and the date is the posting date. It was, I’m sure, not a freebie. I periodically approve non-CM posts, so feel free to contact me if you’d like to be a guest contributor. CM]
This amazing event in Laguna Beach, CA was completely unknown to me before serendipitously seeing a catalogue of last year’s show on the coffee table of our L.A. friends in March. Immediately intrigued, we jumped when given the opportunity to attend this year’s show. (Friends of theirs—whom we’ve known for years—always buy a block of tickets.)
The inadequate short description of the event is that over the course of an evening, works of art are recreated on stage with live performers replacing the human subjects. Think of Victorian tableaux. All in a cleverly designed amphitheater and with a live orchestra and narration.
It is truly stage magic that occurs nightly for two months every year!
We were informed by our friends that the show normally is pretty loosely themed and, indeed, this year’s theme of Under the Sun really might easily have gone in any number of directions. As it turns out, the entire first act gave the history of Laguna told through era-appropriate art from statues of Native Americans to paintings of missionaries, early town settlers, and the beginnings of the artist communities. Orange farming was represented by 1800s-era crate labels, impressionist seashore scenes were shown, and even art nouveau lamps were recreated by (truly) bronzed beauties. Particularly thrilling to me were the ’60s- and ’70s-era modern art paintings, including a very striking, and famous, op-art surf poster. Surfers were then represented across myriad pieces from photo-realistic murals to still and action-packed statuary.
Act 2 dropped the narrative for a more traditional tour through several famous artworks. Monet, Manet, Gauguin, the photo of the raising of the flag at Iwo Jima, and—as is tradition—DaVinci’s The Last Supper all got their due.
The painted backdrops and foredrops (?) are impressive; the painted models and their costumes even more so. Lighting design is paramount to making the illusions work. And work they definitely do! Apparently audiences have been clamoring for more deconstruction so several times throughout the evening, the artwork gets assembled with the curtain raised, but it’s still thrilling—perhaps even more so—when the 3-D models ‘flatten out’ via placement and lighting. Each piece elicited ever-increasing applause as the night went on.
In one case, Monet, a subject (along with other painters) in one artwork, stepped out of that painting and a different painting in which he was also a subject was assembled on the stage. So he took off his jacket, exposed his opposite side (painted appropriately), and slipped into the new piece. It’s difficult to put into words how amazing this was to see in person. It truly messes with your brain to watch. In the best way possible.
Most of the ‘action’ happened stage center, but there were pieces on either side of the stage, in the bushes surrounding the audience, and in other spots as well (think origami birds flying overhead).
I can’t quite figure out how I’d missed this fantabulous show before now, but I will definitely be going again.
BrotherMeister
This amazing event in Laguna Beach, CA was completely unknown to me before serendipitously seeing a catalogue of last year’s show on the coffee table of our L.A. friends in March. Immediately intrigued, we jumped when given the opportunity to attend this year’s show. (Friends of theirs—whom we’ve known for years—always buy a block of tickets.)
The inadequate short description of the event is that over the course of an evening, works of art are recreated on stage with live performers replacing the human subjects. Think of Victorian tableaux. All in a cleverly designed amphitheater and with a live orchestra and narration.
It is truly stage magic that occurs nightly for two months every year!
We were informed by our friends that the show normally is pretty loosely themed and, indeed, this year’s theme of Under the Sun really might easily have gone in any number of directions. As it turns out, the entire first act gave the history of Laguna told through era-appropriate art from statues of Native Americans to paintings of missionaries, early town settlers, and the beginnings of the artist communities. Orange farming was represented by 1800s-era crate labels, impressionist seashore scenes were shown, and even art nouveau lamps were recreated by (truly) bronzed beauties. Particularly thrilling to me were the ’60s- and ’70s-era modern art paintings, including a very striking, and famous, op-art surf poster. Surfers were then represented across myriad pieces from photo-realistic murals to still and action-packed statuary.
Act 2 dropped the narrative for a more traditional tour through several famous artworks. Monet, Manet, Gauguin, the photo of the raising of the flag at Iwo Jima, and—as is tradition—DaVinci’s The Last Supper all got their due.
The painted backdrops and foredrops (?) are impressive; the painted models and their costumes even more so. Lighting design is paramount to making the illusions work. And work they definitely do! Apparently audiences have been clamoring for more deconstruction so several times throughout the evening, the artwork gets assembled with the curtain raised, but it’s still thrilling—perhaps even more so—when the 3-D models ‘flatten out’ via placement and lighting. Each piece elicited ever-increasing applause as the night went on.
In one case, Monet, a subject (along with other painters) in one artwork, stepped out of that painting and a different painting in which he was also a subject was assembled on the stage. So he took off his jacket, exposed his opposite side (painted appropriately), and slipped into the new piece. It’s difficult to put into words how amazing this was to see in person. It truly messes with your brain to watch. In the best way possible.
Most of the ‘action’ happened stage center, but there were pieces on either side of the stage, in the bushes surrounding the audience, and in other spots as well (think origami birds flying overhead).
I can’t quite figure out how I’d missed this fantabulous show before now, but I will definitely be going again.
BrotherMeister
Wednesday, July 11, 2018
Naumburg Orchestral Concerts (7/10/18)
A Far Cry
Divertimento in F, K. 138 (1772) – I. Allegro; II. Andante; III. Presto –
W. A. Mozart (1756–1791)
Symphony No. 3 (1994) – Movement I; Movement II; Movement III;
Movement IV – Philip Glass (1937–)
Divertimento for String Orchestra, Sz. 113 BB. 118 (1939) – I. Allegro non troppo; II. Molto adagio; III. Allegro assai – Béla Bartók (1881–1945)
Tenebrae (2002) – Osvaldo Golijov (1960–)
This was my first exposure to A Far Cry, a self-conducted chamber orchestra based in Boston. I liked what I heard, for the most part. The first movement of the Mozart started strongly and then veered into some of the usual Mozart sweetness and froth. It was slightly sophisticated yet slightly predictable, but hey—he wrote it at fifteen. The second movement was still rhythmic but gentler. And still sweet. At times, it sounded like there was just a quartet playing (in fact, I think I actually observed two violins, one viola, and one bass at one point). The third movement was brisk and jaunty, maybe even showing off a bit—see fifteen, above. There was a cute pizzicato section that seemed impossibly pianissimo, before a bit of a race that led to a rather abrupt ending. As I’ve sometimes observed with other chamber orchestras, all of the string players (and that’s what the entire orchestra was for this performance) played standing except, of course, for the cellos.
There was a shift of personnel before the second piece, and this is why. Each of the players is known as a Crier. For each piece, the members select five Criers as leaders to help shape the piece through the rehearsal process. Interesting concept. As a result, each piece has a different personnel placement on the stage.
Movement I of the Glass had lots of repetitive rhythms with a few tunes added. At least the dynamics varied a little. Movement II had faster repetitive rhythms with faster tunes as well as more accents and varied rhythms than the first. What seemed like a segue into Movement III was marred by a phone ringing in the audience. [Really?] There was a cello introduction before the violas and basses were added. I was reminded of a film score. The second violins snuck in and there was a brief first violin solo (though the movement was getting tedious by this time). A build of intensity and volume closed it out. Movement IV had a unison opening theme before giving way to a tango-esque driving rhythm. After Movement III, a little of that went a long way. Loud, energetic chords completed the work.
The first movement of the Bartók had a very familiar, to me, tune that was rhythmic but varied as well. What seemed like folk music themes were very engaging, with touches of modernity. There were varied tunes, volume, rhythms and tempos that ran a bit long before getting to the quiet, subdued ending. Even quieter was the opening of the second movement. A slightly spiky but still slow section provided a little more (though not quite enough) focus. Though there were interesting musical ideas, it was hard to focus on them. The third movement was brisk, folk-themed, and more modern than the first movement. While I sort of liked it, the whole piece seemed to be a case of each movement in its own little world.
The Golijov opened with the lower strings, peaceful and somewhat Zen-like. From what was said onstage before the piece, it was written with political and personal reflections in mind—they were lost on me. A bolder section created a small degree of interesting change, with an emphasis on small degree. It seemed like an odd way to end the program. Overall, I liked this group and the playing, just not so much the pieces on the program.
ConcertMeister
Divertimento in F, K. 138 (1772) – I. Allegro; II. Andante; III. Presto –
W. A. Mozart (1756–1791)
Symphony No. 3 (1994) – Movement I; Movement II; Movement III;
Movement IV – Philip Glass (1937–)
Divertimento for String Orchestra, Sz. 113 BB. 118 (1939) – I. Allegro non troppo; II. Molto adagio; III. Allegro assai – Béla Bartók (1881–1945)
Tenebrae (2002) – Osvaldo Golijov (1960–)
This was my first exposure to A Far Cry, a self-conducted chamber orchestra based in Boston. I liked what I heard, for the most part. The first movement of the Mozart started strongly and then veered into some of the usual Mozart sweetness and froth. It was slightly sophisticated yet slightly predictable, but hey—he wrote it at fifteen. The second movement was still rhythmic but gentler. And still sweet. At times, it sounded like there was just a quartet playing (in fact, I think I actually observed two violins, one viola, and one bass at one point). The third movement was brisk and jaunty, maybe even showing off a bit—see fifteen, above. There was a cute pizzicato section that seemed impossibly pianissimo, before a bit of a race that led to a rather abrupt ending. As I’ve sometimes observed with other chamber orchestras, all of the string players (and that’s what the entire orchestra was for this performance) played standing except, of course, for the cellos.
There was a shift of personnel before the second piece, and this is why. Each of the players is known as a Crier. For each piece, the members select five Criers as leaders to help shape the piece through the rehearsal process. Interesting concept. As a result, each piece has a different personnel placement on the stage.
Movement I of the Glass had lots of repetitive rhythms with a few tunes added. At least the dynamics varied a little. Movement II had faster repetitive rhythms with faster tunes as well as more accents and varied rhythms than the first. What seemed like a segue into Movement III was marred by a phone ringing in the audience. [Really?] There was a cello introduction before the violas and basses were added. I was reminded of a film score. The second violins snuck in and there was a brief first violin solo (though the movement was getting tedious by this time). A build of intensity and volume closed it out. Movement IV had a unison opening theme before giving way to a tango-esque driving rhythm. After Movement III, a little of that went a long way. Loud, energetic chords completed the work.
The first movement of the Bartók had a very familiar, to me, tune that was rhythmic but varied as well. What seemed like folk music themes were very engaging, with touches of modernity. There were varied tunes, volume, rhythms and tempos that ran a bit long before getting to the quiet, subdued ending. Even quieter was the opening of the second movement. A slightly spiky but still slow section provided a little more (though not quite enough) focus. Though there were interesting musical ideas, it was hard to focus on them. The third movement was brisk, folk-themed, and more modern than the first movement. While I sort of liked it, the whole piece seemed to be a case of each movement in its own little world.
The Golijov opened with the lower strings, peaceful and somewhat Zen-like. From what was said onstage before the piece, it was written with political and personal reflections in mind—they were lost on me. A bolder section created a small degree of interesting change, with an emphasis on small degree. It seemed like an odd way to end the program. Overall, I liked this group and the playing, just not so much the pieces on the program.
ConcertMeister
Sunday, July 8, 2018
Shakespeare in the Park (7/7/18)
No, not the famous one. This was Twelfth Night, or What You Will, presented by the Boomerang Theatre Company.
Open air staging, two hours and five (intermission-less) minutes of fun. I sat on a towel in the shade but the ground was very hard. If you can easily bring a camp chair, or any folding chair, I highly recommend it. I also sat off to the 'stage left' side. Most of the staging was proscenium style, so if you go, I'd recommend the south end of the playing space. I'll let the website speak for itself (you may need to copy and paste or search—I'm not adept at this).
www.boomerangtheatre.org
Most (but not all) cast members were Actors' Equity Association members (note the apostrophe Boomerang). There are two more performances on 7/14 and 7/15 at 2:00pm. And people do arrive early, though our audience totaled about 50 people.
ConcertMeister (in play mode)
Open air staging, two hours and five (intermission-less) minutes of fun. I sat on a towel in the shade but the ground was very hard. If you can easily bring a camp chair, or any folding chair, I highly recommend it. I also sat off to the 'stage left' side. Most of the staging was proscenium style, so if you go, I'd recommend the south end of the playing space. I'll let the website speak for itself (you may need to copy and paste or search—I'm not adept at this).
www.boomerangtheatre.org
Most (but not all) cast members were Actors' Equity Association members (note the apostrophe Boomerang). There are two more performances on 7/14 and 7/15 at 2:00pm. And people do arrive early, though our audience totaled about 50 people.
ConcertMeister (in play mode)
Make Music NY (6/21/18)
This is a fun program that comes around twice a year—summer solstice and winter solstice. I decided to take a day off from work in order to see as many different sites and sounds as possible. All of the musicians I heard were amateurs, and that sort of adds to the fun. My first stop was at the Bard Graduate Center on West 86th Street, where I heard pianist Carolyn Enger. The crowd was very small—two toddlers with their caregivers, one woman, and me. A couple of other folks stopped in a bit later. There was no printed program, but Ms. Enger did let us know which composers we were hearing. They included Schubert; Zemlinsky; a contemporary female composer; Clara Schumann; Pia Møller Johansen (a Norwegian composer); and one more contemporary female composer.
After running an unplanned errand, I next heard a solo trumpeter,
Jayson Greengold, playing on the sidewalk near Lincoln Center. He’s a
middle schooler and plays pretty darn well. My favorite from his set was
Puttin’ On the Ritz. He had boom box–style accompaniment.
My next stop was the main library at 42nd Street to hear the Passion Flute Choir—a quartet (and sometimes sextet) of flutists. They started off with Scott Joplin’s The Entertainer, which was quite fun. Flight of the Bumblebee was also fun. There was a three-movement classical work that was written for strings but transformed for six flutes, here. I liked it better than the Frozen medley that followed. Another favorite of mine was an Astor Piazzolla tango.
Fourth on my agenda turned out to be a bust. The listing had an incorrect time for the appearance of one artist, so she had performed and gone by the time I got to the venue.
A trip to the Village led me to The Renaissance Street Singers, who are just that, amateurs who sing music of the 15th and 16th centuries, right on the street (sidewalk, to be more precise). They've been in existence since the 1970s. It was enjoyable. Oddly, there were more men than women at the portions of their sets that I heard—that’s usually not the case with vocal groups. A few blocks away found me listening to NYC Sacred Harp, a group of shape note singers. It’s a notation system that I really don’t know much about, but the singing itself was very rustic. It was enjoyable, just not my cup of tea. But the singers were having a good time.
It was a fun day. I’m not sure I’d take a day off from work next time, though.
ConcertMeister
After running an unplanned errand, I next heard a solo trumpeter,
Jayson Greengold, playing on the sidewalk near Lincoln Center. He’s a
middle schooler and plays pretty darn well. My favorite from his set was
Puttin’ On the Ritz. He had boom box–style accompaniment.
My next stop was the main library at 42nd Street to hear the Passion Flute Choir—a quartet (and sometimes sextet) of flutists. They started off with Scott Joplin’s The Entertainer, which was quite fun. Flight of the Bumblebee was also fun. There was a three-movement classical work that was written for strings but transformed for six flutes, here. I liked it better than the Frozen medley that followed. Another favorite of mine was an Astor Piazzolla tango.
Fourth on my agenda turned out to be a bust. The listing had an incorrect time for the appearance of one artist, so she had performed and gone by the time I got to the venue.
A trip to the Village led me to The Renaissance Street Singers, who are just that, amateurs who sing music of the 15th and 16th centuries, right on the street (sidewalk, to be more precise). They've been in existence since the 1970s. It was enjoyable. Oddly, there were more men than women at the portions of their sets that I heard—that’s usually not the case with vocal groups. A few blocks away found me listening to NYC Sacred Harp, a group of shape note singers. It’s a notation system that I really don’t know much about, but the singing itself was very rustic. It was enjoyable, just not my cup of tea. But the singers were having a good time.
It was a fun day. I’m not sure I’d take a day off from work next time, though.
ConcertMeister
Tuesday, July 3, 2018
Midday Masterpieces (6/6/18)
Stella Chen, violin; Andrew Hsu, piano
Chaconne from the Partita in D minor – Bach
Fantasie in C major, D. 960 – Schubert
Abendlied, arr. Joachim – Schumann
Alas, another fine season has ended. These free, live concerts featuring students from The Juilliard School will resume in September. I’ll try to give a heads up for their return. Wednesday’s concert began with the Bach. Though there was no printed program, I was able to grab the listing from WQXR’s website. So even though my notes for the first piece referred to the slightly sad sounding, but lovely (Sarabande?) solo violin composition, it was indeed a Chaconne. The extended solo section—no chords or double stops—then added some of those and increased in intensity, volume and liveliness. It was quite lengthy and very impressive.
Ms. Chen was then joined by Mr. Hsu for the Schubert. After playing the first piece from memory, both played from scores here, old-fashioned for her and new-fashioned (tablet) for him. It began with a soft piano section joined by a simple violin tune that was very sweet, in a slightly haunting way, set against a rippling accompaniment. Next was a switch to a dance section, possibly folk tune based, that was fun to listen to, with a few humorous passages thrown in. There was a little bit of everything—a piano interlude leading into what seemed to be a song/vocalise with three little verses, a pizzicato variation set to a running accompaniment with lots of scales for both piano and violin—in short, lots and lots of musical ideas explored. A nice work nicely performed.
Schumann’s Abendlied was gentle and lovely, relatively simple and straightforward. And touching. It was the perfect send-off to a wonderful season. Thank you, Juilliard and WQXR.
ConcertMeister
Hmm, a double-posting. Which one do you like best?!?
Chaconne from the Partita in D minor – Bach
Fantasie in C major, D. 960 – Schubert
Abendlied, arr. Joachim – Schumann
Alas, another fine season has ended. These free, live concerts featuring students from The Juilliard School will resume in September. I’ll try to give a heads up for their return. Wednesday’s concert began with the Bach. Though there was no printed program, I was able to grab the listing from WQXR’s website. So even though my notes for the first piece referred to the slightly sad sounding, but lovely (Sarabande?) solo violin composition, it was indeed a Chaconne. The extended solo section—no chords or double stops—then added some of those and increased in intensity, volume and liveliness. It was quite lengthy and very impressive.
Ms. Chen was then joined by Mr. Hsu for the Schubert. After playing the first piece from memory, both played from scores here, old-fashioned for her and new-fashioned (tablet) for him. It began with a soft piano section joined by a simple violin tune that was very sweet, in a slightly haunting way, set against a rippling accompaniment. Next was a switch to a dance section, possibly folk tune based, that was fun to listen to, with a few humorous passages thrown in. There was a little bit of everything—a piano interlude leading into what seemed to be a song/vocalise with three little verses, a pizzicato variation set to a running accompaniment with lots of scales for both piano and violin—in short, lots and lots of musical ideas explored. A nice work nicely performed.
Schumann’s Abendlied was gentle and lovely, relatively simple and straightforward. And touching. It was the perfect send-off to a wonderful season. Thank you, Juilliard and WQXR.
ConcertMeister
Hmm, a double-posting. Which one do you like best?!?
Naumburg Orchestral Concerts (Times Two) – (6/12/18; 6/26/18)
June 12 was the opening concert of Naumburg’s 113th season, and it was a perfect evening for an al fresco performance by Ensemble LPR, Ankush Bahl, conductor; Tessa Lark, violin.
Fanfare & Fugue (for a Fish) (2018) World Premiere – David Handler (1980–)
Aurora (1999) East Coast Premiere – Thea Musgrave (1928–)
The Red Violin: Suite for Violin and Orchestra (1999) East Coast Premiere – John Corigliano (1938–)
Serenade for Strings in C Major, Op. 48 (1880) – Pytor Ilyich Tchaikovsky (1840–1893)
Clair de Lune (1890), L. 75, (arr. Lipton) – Claude Debussy (1862–1918)
The first piece was a sort of atonal throwback to an American band concert piece. It was interesting music with a touch of whimsy (a nice harp/marimba duet) leading into a rather hefty pizzicato section for all of the strings. A good opener. The second piece was for strings only—well, the birds joined in from time to time—and was also fairly modern/atonal and somewhat static, although there was a build of intensity, rhythm, and volume before retreating to a subdued ending. I know very little about the film that Mr. Corigliano wrote the score for, which won the Academy Award for Best Original Score. In the suite performed here, the solo violin sections set against an orchestral backup were some of the best parts. Also very effective was pairing the violin and harp with string accompaniment. The interruption of the percussion was both startling and energizing. The piece was enjoyable and Ms. Lark did a fine job.
After intermission, the Tchaikovsky, one of my favorite pieces, was unabashed romantic fun. In four movements, the first had a haunting grandeur in the opening theme that then transformed into bubbling joy. The second movement was pleasant and lilting from the very beginning. The movement chugs along and it’s just right, even with touches of rubato (where the tempo is stretched and adjusted ever so slightly). The third movement sets out to tug at your heartstrings and succeeds. The segue into the fourth movement was a thing of beauty, a slow build into a cheerful (almost relentlessly so) section and then bam! a return to that grand opening theme brought us full circle. I loved it and the audience did too.
In a rather clever bit of programming, Clair de Lune was almost a programmed encore. It was a lovely way to end a lovely evening.
Two weeks later, same venue but with a different orchestra, Orpheus Chamber Orchestra.
A Midsummer Night’s Dream, Op. 21/61 (1826–1843), (arr. Andreas Tarkmann) – Felix Mendelssohn (1809–1847)
Summer Night, Pastoral Intermezzo for Strings, Op. 58 (1945) New York Premiere – Othmar Schoeck (1886–1957)
String Quartet in F Minor, Op. 95 “Serioso” (1810), (arr. Gustav Mahler) – Ludwig van Beethoven (1770–1827)
The Mendelssohn is relatively well known, at least parts of it, and this suite in ten movements led me into a sort of stream-of-consciousness note taking. It began with calm, serene writing leading into a sprightly section, then full, sweet, and charming—including a tell-tale hee-haw, hee-haw!—before returning to the opening motif. The second movement was bright and cheerful, with forward-driving rhythms (plus those chirping birds from two weeks ago, too) and then a clever ending. The third was fuller with horns, percussion, and a fuller winds presence. The fourth was like a song, mostly in the winds and some of the lower strings. The fifth continued with driving rhythms but also slightly gentler, like a little breather, and then a little dance. The sixth was calmer and legato, a chorale in the horns and lower strings, although the higher strings added a few accents leading into lovely longer phrases. And then the seventh—the Wedding March (is everybody humming along?). The eighth was a little darker, with bassoon, timpani, and clarinets and then full orchestra. The ninth had driving rhythms but was not overly loud or harsh. The tenth mirrored the calm, serene chords from the opening. It was nice to hear all of the movements together.
With all of the strings (except the cellos) standing, the Schoeck was slightly modern but still very tonal, with a mostly calm opening that built in volume a little, fairly pleasant and unassuming. That might sound like a put-down but really, it isn’t. It was a pleasant summer night diversion.
The Beethoven had a fairly aggressive opening with a mix of louder and softer dynamics and with a richness and heft associated with Beethoven and then a lovely ending. The second was calmer but with enough rhythmic energy to earn its Allegretto moniker, though it did end with a slightly introspective feel. The third was very energetic, including a dramatic section that then calmed somewhat and was straightforward, though a few playful touches were included as well. The final movement began calmly but also had rhythmic motion and accents not quite where you expected them. A brief coda rounded out the piece and the evening.
For my New York peeps, the next Naumburg concert is Tuesday, July 10, when the Boston-based chamber orchestra, A Far Cry, will be performing.
Fanfare & Fugue (for a Fish) (2018) World Premiere – David Handler (1980–)
Aurora (1999) East Coast Premiere – Thea Musgrave (1928–)
The Red Violin: Suite for Violin and Orchestra (1999) East Coast Premiere – John Corigliano (1938–)
Serenade for Strings in C Major, Op. 48 (1880) – Pytor Ilyich Tchaikovsky (1840–1893)
Clair de Lune (1890), L. 75, (arr. Lipton) – Claude Debussy (1862–1918)
The first piece was a sort of atonal throwback to an American band concert piece. It was interesting music with a touch of whimsy (a nice harp/marimba duet) leading into a rather hefty pizzicato section for all of the strings. A good opener. The second piece was for strings only—well, the birds joined in from time to time—and was also fairly modern/atonal and somewhat static, although there was a build of intensity, rhythm, and volume before retreating to a subdued ending. I know very little about the film that Mr. Corigliano wrote the score for, which won the Academy Award for Best Original Score. In the suite performed here, the solo violin sections set against an orchestral backup were some of the best parts. Also very effective was pairing the violin and harp with string accompaniment. The interruption of the percussion was both startling and energizing. The piece was enjoyable and Ms. Lark did a fine job.
After intermission, the Tchaikovsky, one of my favorite pieces, was unabashed romantic fun. In four movements, the first had a haunting grandeur in the opening theme that then transformed into bubbling joy. The second movement was pleasant and lilting from the very beginning. The movement chugs along and it’s just right, even with touches of rubato (where the tempo is stretched and adjusted ever so slightly). The third movement sets out to tug at your heartstrings and succeeds. The segue into the fourth movement was a thing of beauty, a slow build into a cheerful (almost relentlessly so) section and then bam! a return to that grand opening theme brought us full circle. I loved it and the audience did too.
In a rather clever bit of programming, Clair de Lune was almost a programmed encore. It was a lovely way to end a lovely evening.
Two weeks later, same venue but with a different orchestra, Orpheus Chamber Orchestra.
A Midsummer Night’s Dream, Op. 21/61 (1826–1843), (arr. Andreas Tarkmann) – Felix Mendelssohn (1809–1847)
Summer Night, Pastoral Intermezzo for Strings, Op. 58 (1945) New York Premiere – Othmar Schoeck (1886–1957)
String Quartet in F Minor, Op. 95 “Serioso” (1810), (arr. Gustav Mahler) – Ludwig van Beethoven (1770–1827)
The Mendelssohn is relatively well known, at least parts of it, and this suite in ten movements led me into a sort of stream-of-consciousness note taking. It began with calm, serene writing leading into a sprightly section, then full, sweet, and charming—including a tell-tale hee-haw, hee-haw!—before returning to the opening motif. The second movement was bright and cheerful, with forward-driving rhythms (plus those chirping birds from two weeks ago, too) and then a clever ending. The third was fuller with horns, percussion, and a fuller winds presence. The fourth was like a song, mostly in the winds and some of the lower strings. The fifth continued with driving rhythms but also slightly gentler, like a little breather, and then a little dance. The sixth was calmer and legato, a chorale in the horns and lower strings, although the higher strings added a few accents leading into lovely longer phrases. And then the seventh—the Wedding March (is everybody humming along?). The eighth was a little darker, with bassoon, timpani, and clarinets and then full orchestra. The ninth had driving rhythms but was not overly loud or harsh. The tenth mirrored the calm, serene chords from the opening. It was nice to hear all of the movements together.
With all of the strings (except the cellos) standing, the Schoeck was slightly modern but still very tonal, with a mostly calm opening that built in volume a little, fairly pleasant and unassuming. That might sound like a put-down but really, it isn’t. It was a pleasant summer night diversion.
The Beethoven had a fairly aggressive opening with a mix of louder and softer dynamics and with a richness and heft associated with Beethoven and then a lovely ending. The second was calmer but with enough rhythmic energy to earn its Allegretto moniker, though it did end with a slightly introspective feel. The third was very energetic, including a dramatic section that then calmed somewhat and was straightforward, though a few playful touches were included as well. The final movement began calmly but also had rhythmic motion and accents not quite where you expected them. A brief coda rounded out the piece and the evening.
For my New York peeps, the next Naumburg concert is Tuesday, July 10, when the Boston-based chamber orchestra, A Far Cry, will be performing.
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