I promise you that I have been going to concerts, and I have a backlog of posts to write, but this was such a timely event that I didn’t want to sit on it.
It took place in the northern end of Central Park—Harlem Meer to be precise. The entire event ran from 4:00pm to 7:00pm. Here’s a snippet from Central Park’s website: “Enjoy pumpkin carving, Halloween crafts, spooky stories, a costume parade, and most of all the Conservancy’s signature Pumpkin Flotilla, which sets sail across the Harlem Meer at twilight! This event is free and open to all ages. Tickets are not required.”
I did not partake of all of the events; I did, however, see the flotilla. More to the point, I saw one half of the flotilla. Here’s the deal. People create jack-o’-lanterns and donate them to the park, knowing full well that they will not get them back. I arrived and entered the park at Fifth Avenue and 110th Street, getting there around 6:25pm or so, when dusk was pretty much full upon us, and I found a convenient spot at the water’s edge. Suddenly a kayaker appeared traveling from west to east, towing—well, a flotilla (multiple platforms strung together?) of about two dozen jack-o’-lanterns (in two rows, not one long string of pumpkins). It was quite eerie yet intriguing. Then I saw in the distance, a second double-row flotilla along the south end of the meer.
I thought to myself, “How cool. They’ll probably pass each other so we can see the south flotilla and they can see the north flotilla.” Alas, that was not to be. We only got to see our half of the pumpkins. As I was leaving, I saw them unloading our flotilla and asked what would happen to the carved pumpkins now? They were going directly to be composted. I was a little disheartened by that, since I thought it would be cool if they could all be on display on terra firma at least until Halloween. I guess there was no easy way to display forty to fifty jack-o’-lanterns. Hey, at least they composted them.
I won’t exactly call this a ‘bucket list’ event but I’m glad I went (nice weather was definitely a deciding factor). It’s doubtful, though, that I’ll make a return visit to the flotilla in the future—this was pretty much a one-and-done.
PumpkinMeister
Monday, October 29, 2018
Sunday, October 21, 2018
Food-Centric Volunteering (10/11–21/18)
OK, this is not concert oriented. But free things exist out there that are not performances. In a sense. Over the last week and a half I have participated in (in no particular order) a fundraiser, two New York City Wine and Food Festival events and one International Star Chefs event. Re ‘in a sense’ there was a whole lotta performing going on.
Also in no particular order, I saw Anne Burrell, Sunny Anderson, Marc Murphy, and Elizabeth Falkner. (Yes, I'm an ex-FoodTV junkie.) I had no real interaction with Ms. Burrell nor Ms. Falkner, but I did at least moderately interact with Chef Marc. And I did point Chef Sunny in the direction of Onion sorbet. (She liked it, and so did I.)
Organization for the four events was a bit iffy. At one, there was little to do, though I guarded a table of signed books diligently. At one, I had to force them to use me for more than the two-hour window that they set as my schedule. Two hours is really not worth my time, even as a volunteer. Especially when each portion of the round trip is about one hour. Fortunately, my shift ended up being longer than two hours—though the logistics and details were still a little wonky.
At one, I was told that I could not take part in sampling the items on display for the patrons. Fair enough; that’s sort of standard in volunteer world. When I was given a fifteen-minute break, I was told to feel free to sample the vendors’ wares. Huh?!? But no wine or booze.
At another, I was told that there would be no sampling but then I was told that sampling was OK on break, and sake, beer, and booze were OK in moderation. I understand the concept—they don’t want volunteers taking advantage of the event. But mixed signals are very strange, especially when the eventual situation boils down to “Enjoy yourself, in moderation.” I know that all volunteers are not like me, so there have to be some safeguards in place.
There also have to be better guidelines and better communication with volunteers in place. In one instance, I got an email at 8:14am asking how quickly I could be there. That is an extreme lack of organization.
There. Off my ’Meister soap box now.
Also in no particular order, I saw Anne Burrell, Sunny Anderson, Marc Murphy, and Elizabeth Falkner. (Yes, I'm an ex-FoodTV junkie.) I had no real interaction with Ms. Burrell nor Ms. Falkner, but I did at least moderately interact with Chef Marc. And I did point Chef Sunny in the direction of Onion sorbet. (She liked it, and so did I.)
Organization for the four events was a bit iffy. At one, there was little to do, though I guarded a table of signed books diligently. At one, I had to force them to use me for more than the two-hour window that they set as my schedule. Two hours is really not worth my time, even as a volunteer. Especially when each portion of the round trip is about one hour. Fortunately, my shift ended up being longer than two hours—though the logistics and details were still a little wonky.
At one, I was told that I could not take part in sampling the items on display for the patrons. Fair enough; that’s sort of standard in volunteer world. When I was given a fifteen-minute break, I was told to feel free to sample the vendors’ wares. Huh?!? But no wine or booze.
At another, I was told that there would be no sampling but then I was told that sampling was OK on break, and sake, beer, and booze were OK in moderation. I understand the concept—they don’t want volunteers taking advantage of the event. But mixed signals are very strange, especially when the eventual situation boils down to “Enjoy yourself, in moderation.” I know that all volunteers are not like me, so there have to be some safeguards in place.
There also have to be better guidelines and better communication with volunteers in place. In one instance, I got an email at 8:14am asking how quickly I could be there. That is an extreme lack of organization.
There. Off my ’Meister soap box now.
Saturday, October 20, 2018
Open House New York Weekend (OHNY) (10/12–14/18)
Here’s a little bit of back story about OHNY. There are two kinds of architectural site visits—Open Access (free) and Reservations Required (which charge a $5.00 fee, each). Me being me, I don’t do the reservation sites. From everything I’ve heard, unless you jump on reservations the very moment they become available you have an extremely rough (to impossible) time getting them.
Oct. 12 was Factory Friday. I did not participate because every site required a reservation. I also did not participate on Sunday due to a previously scheduled volunteer gig (bad planning on my part, but the volunteering was for a good cause). Which left Saturday.
As always, I created a very full agenda for myself knowing that, due to possible changes and due to sometimes unpredictable subway service, I might have to change directions or just skip something on my list. My planning paid off this time, though. I made it to all eight of the sites I plotted out.
I began with the Manhattan Borough President’s Map Display at 1 Centre St. They opened at 10am and I was there a few minutes early (which is par for the course for me); alas, they were not ready on time. When I did get up to the second floor, the thirty or so 1820 surveyors’ maps laying out most of Manhattan were just being tidied up on a series of tables pushed together. It was interesting to see how the contour of Manhattan changed (and didn’t) over the years. (McKim Mead & White, 1914)
Next was Blue School at 156 William St. It was an easy walk (in the drizzle) even if I did get turned around a couple of times. I was part of a tour led by a representative from the architectural firm. This just-opened school took an existing building, gutted it and created classrooms, and furniture, to make spaces that were easily adaptable to different groups of students. Down on the basement floor, we saw dance studios and a small gymnasium. I never learned the ins and outs of it, but the architects had to figure out how to remove a load-bearing steel beam that was in the exact center of what ended up as the basketball court. Cool stuff. (Rockwell Group, 2018)
Retracing my steps to the Civic Center area, I visited City Hall (Broadway and Murray St.). While waiting in line there for a 12 noon start, it became apparent that not everyone in line was there for OHNY. There was also some sort of real estate protest scheduled for the exact same time. The two groups eventually got sorted out. No real tour here, just wandering through some of the areas that aren’t usually open to the public. The city volunteers on hand were very knowledgeable and helpful. (Joseph Francois Mangin and John McComb Jr., 1812)
Next, nearby, was the Hall of Records tour at Surrogate’s Courthouse, located at 31 Chambers St. This was the one minor blemish, as the tour (that was only added recently before the event) was limited to fifteen people—but that information was not made available to us until there were more than fifty of us in the holding area. So, no tour for me but I was able to wander parts of the building. (John Rochester Thomas, 1907; Renovated 2018; in fact, great portions of the center of the building were off limits due to the ongoing renovations)
Leaving the Civic Center area, I went uptown to Grace Church New York, at Broadway and 10th St. I’ve been in the church before but I had never had a tour. The parishioner giving the tour focused a lot on the stained glass windows. While not Tiffany, she did point out that almost all of them were crafted by women. Apparently there were a lot of women stained glass artists. She also explained some of the symbolism of the reredos (relief stone structure behind the altar, at the very front of the church). One interesting thing about the pews at Grace is that they have these wooden latches on the inside of the doors, which is how you enter and exit. There was also mention made of the brass plates on some of the pews—in the past, parishioners had to pay for their own special pew, and then they were reserved for them (and family and guests, I presume). Though the pews are no longer reserved/owned, some of the hardware remains. (James Renwick, Jr., 1846)
I went back downtown a bit to 25 Park Pl. and the Hercules Art Studio Program. There were works by six (if I’m remembering correctly) artists who had been chosen from a much larger group, through a juried process. Most of the artwork was interesting and there certainly was a variety, although I sort of just glanced at the video installations. One artist was on site, and he took a short break from his work to discuss it with a couple who had dropped in. I sort of tagged along for the conversation. It was fun to hear someone discussing their work while you could see some of it in the middle of the creative process. (Claire Weisz, 2016)
Another retrace, this time to Grace Church for an organ meditation. For my NY peeps, these occur on Saturday and Sunday afternoons at 4pm with some regularity. Simply search Grace Church New York and you’ll probably find them pretty easily. I heard Präludium in D-dur (Dietrich Buxtehude), Largo from Xerxes (G.F. Handel), and Partite diverse sopra: Sei gegrüsset Jesu gütig, BWV 768 (J.S. Bach). Alas, due to time constraints, I missed the Widor and the Vierne. (Renwick, 1846)
I finished off the afternoon on the lower east side at 551 Grand St. and Paul Taylor American Modern Dance – The Taylor Studios. Located on the top floor of a three-story building, the space houses studios as well as in-house costume and lighting designing spaces. In my private tour with, I think, the Artistic Director (lucky me!), I was told that the requirements for finding this new space included ‘lots of natural light’ and ‘no columns’. When I recounted the ‘no columns’ feature that I had seen earlier in the day, my guide was duly impressed. Interestingly, the studios have just had mirrors installed; usually Mr. Taylor created his works on his dancers without them being able to see themselves. With this new space though, they sometimes rent it out to other companies, so mirrors were finally installed. The things you learn at OHNY! (James Dart, 2011)
Okay, I really finished off the afternoon (early evening at that point) with a cocktail at David Burke Kitchen (23 Grand St.). There’s not really an easy way to get from 551 to 23 on Grand St., so I hoofed it about fifteen to twenty minutes. After the long day and the long walk, a cocktail was definitely in order—and it benefited Chemo Comfort as part of their Cocktails for Comfort fundraising event. A win-win to cap off the day.
Oct. 12 was Factory Friday. I did not participate because every site required a reservation. I also did not participate on Sunday due to a previously scheduled volunteer gig (bad planning on my part, but the volunteering was for a good cause). Which left Saturday.
As always, I created a very full agenda for myself knowing that, due to possible changes and due to sometimes unpredictable subway service, I might have to change directions or just skip something on my list. My planning paid off this time, though. I made it to all eight of the sites I plotted out.
I began with the Manhattan Borough President’s Map Display at 1 Centre St. They opened at 10am and I was there a few minutes early (which is par for the course for me); alas, they were not ready on time. When I did get up to the second floor, the thirty or so 1820 surveyors’ maps laying out most of Manhattan were just being tidied up on a series of tables pushed together. It was interesting to see how the contour of Manhattan changed (and didn’t) over the years. (McKim Mead & White, 1914)
Next was Blue School at 156 William St. It was an easy walk (in the drizzle) even if I did get turned around a couple of times. I was part of a tour led by a representative from the architectural firm. This just-opened school took an existing building, gutted it and created classrooms, and furniture, to make spaces that were easily adaptable to different groups of students. Down on the basement floor, we saw dance studios and a small gymnasium. I never learned the ins and outs of it, but the architects had to figure out how to remove a load-bearing steel beam that was in the exact center of what ended up as the basketball court. Cool stuff. (Rockwell Group, 2018)
Retracing my steps to the Civic Center area, I visited City Hall (Broadway and Murray St.). While waiting in line there for a 12 noon start, it became apparent that not everyone in line was there for OHNY. There was also some sort of real estate protest scheduled for the exact same time. The two groups eventually got sorted out. No real tour here, just wandering through some of the areas that aren’t usually open to the public. The city volunteers on hand were very knowledgeable and helpful. (Joseph Francois Mangin and John McComb Jr., 1812)
Next, nearby, was the Hall of Records tour at Surrogate’s Courthouse, located at 31 Chambers St. This was the one minor blemish, as the tour (that was only added recently before the event) was limited to fifteen people—but that information was not made available to us until there were more than fifty of us in the holding area. So, no tour for me but I was able to wander parts of the building. (John Rochester Thomas, 1907; Renovated 2018; in fact, great portions of the center of the building were off limits due to the ongoing renovations)
Leaving the Civic Center area, I went uptown to Grace Church New York, at Broadway and 10th St. I’ve been in the church before but I had never had a tour. The parishioner giving the tour focused a lot on the stained glass windows. While not Tiffany, she did point out that almost all of them were crafted by women. Apparently there were a lot of women stained glass artists. She also explained some of the symbolism of the reredos (relief stone structure behind the altar, at the very front of the church). One interesting thing about the pews at Grace is that they have these wooden latches on the inside of the doors, which is how you enter and exit. There was also mention made of the brass plates on some of the pews—in the past, parishioners had to pay for their own special pew, and then they were reserved for them (and family and guests, I presume). Though the pews are no longer reserved/owned, some of the hardware remains. (James Renwick, Jr., 1846)
I went back downtown a bit to 25 Park Pl. and the Hercules Art Studio Program. There were works by six (if I’m remembering correctly) artists who had been chosen from a much larger group, through a juried process. Most of the artwork was interesting and there certainly was a variety, although I sort of just glanced at the video installations. One artist was on site, and he took a short break from his work to discuss it with a couple who had dropped in. I sort of tagged along for the conversation. It was fun to hear someone discussing their work while you could see some of it in the middle of the creative process. (Claire Weisz, 2016)
Another retrace, this time to Grace Church for an organ meditation. For my NY peeps, these occur on Saturday and Sunday afternoons at 4pm with some regularity. Simply search Grace Church New York and you’ll probably find them pretty easily. I heard Präludium in D-dur (Dietrich Buxtehude), Largo from Xerxes (G.F. Handel), and Partite diverse sopra: Sei gegrüsset Jesu gütig, BWV 768 (J.S. Bach). Alas, due to time constraints, I missed the Widor and the Vierne. (Renwick, 1846)
I finished off the afternoon on the lower east side at 551 Grand St. and Paul Taylor American Modern Dance – The Taylor Studios. Located on the top floor of a three-story building, the space houses studios as well as in-house costume and lighting designing spaces. In my private tour with, I think, the Artistic Director (lucky me!), I was told that the requirements for finding this new space included ‘lots of natural light’ and ‘no columns’. When I recounted the ‘no columns’ feature that I had seen earlier in the day, my guide was duly impressed. Interestingly, the studios have just had mirrors installed; usually Mr. Taylor created his works on his dancers without them being able to see themselves. With this new space though, they sometimes rent it out to other companies, so mirrors were finally installed. The things you learn at OHNY! (James Dart, 2011)
Okay, I really finished off the afternoon (early evening at that point) with a cocktail at David Burke Kitchen (23 Grand St.). There’s not really an easy way to get from 551 to 23 on Grand St., so I hoofed it about fifteen to twenty minutes. After the long day and the long walk, a cocktail was definitely in order—and it benefited Chemo Comfort as part of their Cocktails for Comfort fundraising event. A win-win to cap off the day.
Thursday, October 18, 2018
Classical Interludes with The Knights (10/7/18) (Sort of)
Colin Jacobsen, violin; Christina Courtin, violin; Margaret Dyer, viola; Andrea Lee, cello; Agnes Marchione, clarinet
Fantasias for Strings – No. 4, No. 5, No. 6 – Henry Purcell
Quartet No. 2, Op. 13 – I. Adagio – Allegro vivace; II. Adagio non lento; III. Intermezzo. Alegretto con moto – Allegro di molto; IV. Presto – Adagio non lento – Felix Mendelssohn
Clarinet Quintet in A major, K. 581 – I. Allegro; II. Larghetto; III. Menuetto; IV. Allegretto con variazioni – W. A. Mozart
Selected Songs – Bouquet; Can’t Talk Me Out of Loving You – Christina Courtin
Well, I went to the Brooklyn Library thinking I would see a chamber orchestra, The Knights, and got a string quartet, instead. Not a huge problem, just a slight annoyance. The string quartet played very well, and they are all members of the chamber orchestra. The lighting was such that I was unable to take notes.
The three Purcell Fantasias were fairly similar to each other. Pleasant and a little bit basic. (Purcell’s dates are 1659–1695, while Mozart’s are 1756–1791, and Mendelssohn’s are 1809–1847; musical ideas, expressions, and techniques grew and evolved over the centuries.)
As a contrast, the Mendelssohn was more advanced and a little more complex. I found it quite enjoyable. The Mozart, I am sorry to say, I found a lot less enjoyable. The clarinetist did a fine job, as did the quartet, but I was sorry to hear them take every repeat of sections that had repeats. Diddle-diddle-dum with a neat finish to the phrase sounds just as diddle-diddle-dum-y the second time around. And with the fact that the last movement was a set of variations, the repeats were only more and more predictable. But I’m sure some of you aren’t too surprised at my reaction, right?
Ms. Courtin is a fine violinist. I did not particularly enjoy her compositions or vocal stylings though a lot of the audience did. I like the Dweck Auditorium at the Brooklyn Library, its space and comfort, so I see myself returning to this venue again as concerts come up. You win some, you lose some—and certainly not all was lost this time around.
ConcertMeister
Fantasias for Strings – No. 4, No. 5, No. 6 – Henry Purcell
Quartet No. 2, Op. 13 – I. Adagio – Allegro vivace; II. Adagio non lento; III. Intermezzo. Alegretto con moto – Allegro di molto; IV. Presto – Adagio non lento – Felix Mendelssohn
Clarinet Quintet in A major, K. 581 – I. Allegro; II. Larghetto; III. Menuetto; IV. Allegretto con variazioni – W. A. Mozart
Selected Songs – Bouquet; Can’t Talk Me Out of Loving You – Christina Courtin
Well, I went to the Brooklyn Library thinking I would see a chamber orchestra, The Knights, and got a string quartet, instead. Not a huge problem, just a slight annoyance. The string quartet played very well, and they are all members of the chamber orchestra. The lighting was such that I was unable to take notes.
The three Purcell Fantasias were fairly similar to each other. Pleasant and a little bit basic. (Purcell’s dates are 1659–1695, while Mozart’s are 1756–1791, and Mendelssohn’s are 1809–1847; musical ideas, expressions, and techniques grew and evolved over the centuries.)
As a contrast, the Mendelssohn was more advanced and a little more complex. I found it quite enjoyable. The Mozart, I am sorry to say, I found a lot less enjoyable. The clarinetist did a fine job, as did the quartet, but I was sorry to hear them take every repeat of sections that had repeats. Diddle-diddle-dum with a neat finish to the phrase sounds just as diddle-diddle-dum-y the second time around. And with the fact that the last movement was a set of variations, the repeats were only more and more predictable. But I’m sure some of you aren’t too surprised at my reaction, right?
Ms. Courtin is a fine violinist. I did not particularly enjoy her compositions or vocal stylings though a lot of the audience did. I like the Dweck Auditorium at the Brooklyn Library, its space and comfort, so I see myself returning to this venue again as concerts come up. You win some, you lose some—and certainly not all was lost this time around.
ConcertMeister
Monday, October 15, 2018
Other Dances; Love of Chopin (10/6/18)
Evelyn Chen, piano
Davidsbündlertänze, Op. 6 (1837) – Robert Schumann (1810–1856)
Conversation with Robert Greskovic and Evelyn Chen
Selections from Other Dances – Mazurka, Op. 17, No. 4; Mazurka, Op. 41,
No. 3; Waltz, Op. 64, No. 3; Mazurka, Op. 63, No. 2; Mazurka, Op. 33, No. 2 – Frédéric Chopin (1810–1849)
Variations on a theme of Bach “Weinen, Klagen, Sorgen, Zagen” (1862) – Franz Liszt (1811–1886)
Other Dances (1976) (1980) – Jerome Robbins (1918–1998)
This was some very interesting immersive programming. Other Dances is a ballet by Jerome Robbins that was created for (and on) Natalia Makarova and Mikhail Baryshnikov. It premiered at a 1976 gala that was a benefit for the Lincoln Center Library for the Performing Arts, and took place on the stage of the Metropolitan Opera. Saturday’s concert and viewing of the filmed version of Other Dances took place at the Library for the Performing Arts, and Robert Greskovic, who spoke briefly just before the intermission, actually attended the premiere and was slightly involved in the 1980 filmed version for PBS’ Dance in America series.
The concert began with a lengthy Schumann work (nine movements in the first half and nine movements in the second half). Some of Schumann’s lengthier works probably need multiple hearings (or even studying) to make total sense of them. I’m not there yet. The movements were hard to distinguish, and even though some were given a character name of Florestan and others a character name of Eusebius, the distinctions were not always clear to me. I’d listen to Davidsbündlertänze (cool name!) again, but I wouldn’t seek it out.
The conversation portion of the afternoon was also interesting. Ms. Chen explained some of the information about the Schumann and the Liszt—apparently Chopin held Bach in high esteem, so Ms. Chen selected the Liszt for that reason. And, as previously mentioned, Mr. Greskovic filled us in about the creative processes of Other Dances.
So, on to the Chopin. In what I consider a programming coup, while Ms. Chen played the Chopin, there was video (sans sound) of Ms. Makarova and Mr. Baryshnikov from a rehearsal on the stage of the Met. The quality of the video was not tremendous, and Ms. Chen wasn’t really playing it as accompaniment to the dancing, i.e., it was not synchronized exactly, but that added to the ghost-like, ethereal effect. The playing was poignant, true, and totally enjoyable. The Liszt was also enjoyable though it didn’t make an overly strong impression on me, as I was looking forward more to the filmed version of Other Dances.
After another brief break, we saw footage of Mr. Robbins rehearsing Ms. Makarova and Mr. Baryshnikov (more of a touch-up rehearsal than a full rehearsal) in preparation for the filming in 1980—and Mr. Robbins insisted that it be recorded on film and not on videotape; we learned that courtesy of Mr. Greskovic. The filmed version of Other Dances was an absolute joy to behold. It was the perfect cap to a fairly long afternoon. And it had been an even longer day for some people because Mr. Greskovic gave an earlier lecture/discussion tour of the newly opened Voice of My City: Jerome Robbins and New York exhibit at the LPA, that I did not attend.
ConcertMeister
Davidsbündlertänze, Op. 6 (1837) – Robert Schumann (1810–1856)
Conversation with Robert Greskovic and Evelyn Chen
Selections from Other Dances – Mazurka, Op. 17, No. 4; Mazurka, Op. 41,
No. 3; Waltz, Op. 64, No. 3; Mazurka, Op. 63, No. 2; Mazurka, Op. 33, No. 2 – Frédéric Chopin (1810–1849)
Variations on a theme of Bach “Weinen, Klagen, Sorgen, Zagen” (1862) – Franz Liszt (1811–1886)
Other Dances (1976) (1980) – Jerome Robbins (1918–1998)
This was some very interesting immersive programming. Other Dances is a ballet by Jerome Robbins that was created for (and on) Natalia Makarova and Mikhail Baryshnikov. It premiered at a 1976 gala that was a benefit for the Lincoln Center Library for the Performing Arts, and took place on the stage of the Metropolitan Opera. Saturday’s concert and viewing of the filmed version of Other Dances took place at the Library for the Performing Arts, and Robert Greskovic, who spoke briefly just before the intermission, actually attended the premiere and was slightly involved in the 1980 filmed version for PBS’ Dance in America series.
The concert began with a lengthy Schumann work (nine movements in the first half and nine movements in the second half). Some of Schumann’s lengthier works probably need multiple hearings (or even studying) to make total sense of them. I’m not there yet. The movements were hard to distinguish, and even though some were given a character name of Florestan and others a character name of Eusebius, the distinctions were not always clear to me. I’d listen to Davidsbündlertänze (cool name!) again, but I wouldn’t seek it out.
The conversation portion of the afternoon was also interesting. Ms. Chen explained some of the information about the Schumann and the Liszt—apparently Chopin held Bach in high esteem, so Ms. Chen selected the Liszt for that reason. And, as previously mentioned, Mr. Greskovic filled us in about the creative processes of Other Dances.
So, on to the Chopin. In what I consider a programming coup, while Ms. Chen played the Chopin, there was video (sans sound) of Ms. Makarova and Mr. Baryshnikov from a rehearsal on the stage of the Met. The quality of the video was not tremendous, and Ms. Chen wasn’t really playing it as accompaniment to the dancing, i.e., it was not synchronized exactly, but that added to the ghost-like, ethereal effect. The playing was poignant, true, and totally enjoyable. The Liszt was also enjoyable though it didn’t make an overly strong impression on me, as I was looking forward more to the filmed version of Other Dances.
After another brief break, we saw footage of Mr. Robbins rehearsing Ms. Makarova and Mr. Baryshnikov (more of a touch-up rehearsal than a full rehearsal) in preparation for the filming in 1980—and Mr. Robbins insisted that it be recorded on film and not on videotape; we learned that courtesy of Mr. Greskovic. The filmed version of Other Dances was an absolute joy to behold. It was the perfect cap to a fairly long afternoon. And it had been an even longer day for some people because Mr. Greskovic gave an earlier lecture/discussion tour of the newly opened Voice of My City: Jerome Robbins and New York exhibit at the LPA, that I did not attend.
ConcertMeister
Thursday, October 11, 2018
Midday Masterpieces (10/3/18)
Max Tan, violin; Chaeyoung Park, piano
Violin Sonata in A Major, K.305 – Mozart
Ciaccona from Partita No. 2 for Solo Violin in D minor – Bach
Sonata No. 2 in A Major – Brahms
As much as I like Midday Masterpieces at WQXR’s Jerome L. Greene performance space, a printed program would be nice. I was able to go to their website, though, and get the performers’ names and the pieces that were played. Hmm, maybe it was good that there wasn’t a printed program.
While listening to the first piece and taking notes, I found myself enjoying it and trying to guess the composer, and how many movements there actually were. I was right with the number of movements (two) but wrong with the composer (I don’t remember who I guessed). You see, sometimes if I see Mozart listed, I’m slightly prejudiced because Mozart is not always one of my favorites.
The first movement was bright, with a quick tempo, and there was totally charming interplay between the violin and the piano. A minor section followed, though it wasn’t ominous sounding at all, and then returned to some of the earlier themes. The second movement was slower and a little more relaxed but the charm was still there. A rather lengthy solo piano variation was next, then a playful duo section, continuing on with a nice mix of variations and tempos that eventually picked up speed and energy, taking us to the ending.
Unaccompanied Bach is always intriguing. The Ciaccona had a slight feeling of sadness but also an underlying sense of hope. Even though there was a bit of repetition, there was also a richness and there were additional techniques that added forward movement. As much as I was enjoying it, my attention did wander just a little—almost like meditation.
The Brahms had a lot going for it. The opening was Romantic from the (relatively subdued) introduction. The main theme arrived, full and with a continuing Romantic sweep of rich phrases and harmonies that were dramatic at times and quite touching at times, as well. The second movement was slower and more tender, with a hint of sweetness, and then became quicker and a bit more playful and dance-like. After a second slower section, a quicker one followed again, this time with pizzicato phrases that led to a really fun ending. The third and final movement had a gently strong opening, then a mysterious section that built up in intensity, leading to a dignified ending.
Maybe I’ll try to do my homework next time and learn the performers’ names and what pieces I can expect to hear before I go to the concert. Or maybe I’ll just be surprised again!
ConcertMeister
Violin Sonata in A Major, K.305 – Mozart
Ciaccona from Partita No. 2 for Solo Violin in D minor – Bach
Sonata No. 2 in A Major – Brahms
As much as I like Midday Masterpieces at WQXR’s Jerome L. Greene performance space, a printed program would be nice. I was able to go to their website, though, and get the performers’ names and the pieces that were played. Hmm, maybe it was good that there wasn’t a printed program.
While listening to the first piece and taking notes, I found myself enjoying it and trying to guess the composer, and how many movements there actually were. I was right with the number of movements (two) but wrong with the composer (I don’t remember who I guessed). You see, sometimes if I see Mozart listed, I’m slightly prejudiced because Mozart is not always one of my favorites.
The first movement was bright, with a quick tempo, and there was totally charming interplay between the violin and the piano. A minor section followed, though it wasn’t ominous sounding at all, and then returned to some of the earlier themes. The second movement was slower and a little more relaxed but the charm was still there. A rather lengthy solo piano variation was next, then a playful duo section, continuing on with a nice mix of variations and tempos that eventually picked up speed and energy, taking us to the ending.
Unaccompanied Bach is always intriguing. The Ciaccona had a slight feeling of sadness but also an underlying sense of hope. Even though there was a bit of repetition, there was also a richness and there were additional techniques that added forward movement. As much as I was enjoying it, my attention did wander just a little—almost like meditation.
The Brahms had a lot going for it. The opening was Romantic from the (relatively subdued) introduction. The main theme arrived, full and with a continuing Romantic sweep of rich phrases and harmonies that were dramatic at times and quite touching at times, as well. The second movement was slower and more tender, with a hint of sweetness, and then became quicker and a bit more playful and dance-like. After a second slower section, a quicker one followed again, this time with pizzicato phrases that led to a really fun ending. The third and final movement had a gently strong opening, then a mysterious section that built up in intensity, leading to a dignified ending.
Maybe I’ll try to do my homework next time and learn the performers’ names and what pieces I can expect to hear before I go to the concert. Or maybe I’ll just be surprised again!
ConcertMeister
Tuesday, October 9, 2018
Across a Crowded Room, Part Deux (10/1/18)
A reminder, these twenty-minute musicals were written as part of a summer writing workshop sponsored by the Lincoln Center Library for the Performing Arts. The participants grouped up ‘across a crowded room’ and then bent to the task of preparing said twenty-minute musicals. Four were presented on Monday evening.
Handsome Weeping Boy had our heroine bemoaning the fact that her boyfriend/fiancé never cried—even while watching Marley & Me! (a reference lost on me for most of the piece). She hires the title character, who indeed gets the fiancé to break down into sobs (his dad/coach pulled him from the championship Little League game many years ago—I’m not making this up, you know). The music was OK but I didn’t go out the door humming any of it.
Descending had a v-e-r-y lengthy opening with lots of dialogue. Was this a musical? We finally got to a ‘Who Am I?’ song. Literally. One sister got her other sister a DNA kit as a birthday gift. Instead of a pity party, the birthday girl had a spitty party. I’m not … oh, never mind. In a rather awkward scene, the DNA girl’s ex-fiancé asked for his engagement ring back (it was his grandmother’s antique, and he needs it for a new fiancé). I’m not … The music didn’t make a huge impression. Oh, the girl and her sister turn out to be only half-sisters but that doesn’t matter because they’re really sisters in spirit. I’m …
At the Feet of the Master dealt with the situation of a cult—“You’ll find illumination, for a small donation.” There was once again a ‘Who Am I’ song, this one that I actually liked. As you can see, most of my comments have been about plot. That’s because for this iteration there was much more dialogue than music which was a slight problem for me.
Grand Larceny had three gals essentially doing the same thing—trying to put something over on at least one of the others. It was an interesting concept that needs a little more work. At one point, each of the three sang stuff that was similar to (or exactly the same as) the music of the others. While an interesting concept, it was a little confusing.
Over all, I didn’t like these four musicals as much as I liked any one of the four from the earlier September series. I look forward though, I think, to future iterations. Hey, it was free!
ConcertMeister
Handsome Weeping Boy had our heroine bemoaning the fact that her boyfriend/fiancé never cried—even while watching Marley & Me! (a reference lost on me for most of the piece). She hires the title character, who indeed gets the fiancé to break down into sobs (his dad/coach pulled him from the championship Little League game many years ago—I’m not making this up, you know). The music was OK but I didn’t go out the door humming any of it.
Descending had a v-e-r-y lengthy opening with lots of dialogue. Was this a musical? We finally got to a ‘Who Am I?’ song. Literally. One sister got her other sister a DNA kit as a birthday gift. Instead of a pity party, the birthday girl had a spitty party. I’m not … oh, never mind. In a rather awkward scene, the DNA girl’s ex-fiancé asked for his engagement ring back (it was his grandmother’s antique, and he needs it for a new fiancé). I’m not … The music didn’t make a huge impression. Oh, the girl and her sister turn out to be only half-sisters but that doesn’t matter because they’re really sisters in spirit. I’m …
At the Feet of the Master dealt with the situation of a cult—“You’ll find illumination, for a small donation.” There was once again a ‘Who Am I’ song, this one that I actually liked. As you can see, most of my comments have been about plot. That’s because for this iteration there was much more dialogue than music which was a slight problem for me.
Grand Larceny had three gals essentially doing the same thing—trying to put something over on at least one of the others. It was an interesting concept that needs a little more work. At one point, each of the three sang stuff that was similar to (or exactly the same as) the music of the others. While an interesting concept, it was a little confusing.
Over all, I didn’t like these four musicals as much as I liked any one of the four from the earlier September series. I look forward though, I think, to future iterations. Hey, it was free!
ConcertMeister
Thursday, October 4, 2018
Folk Songs and Lullabies (9/29/18)
Jacqueline Horner-Kwiatek, mezzo soprano; Margaret Kampmeier, piano
Dr. Horner-Kwiatek is a vocalist who specializes in early music as well as contemporary music. Her program on Saturday included 13th-century solo vocal works, arrangements of folk songs, and compositions in the style of folk songs.
Ms. Kampmeier also played two solos.
Clocking in at nineteen compositions, not every one will be commented on. I am a fan of early music (it’s an acquired taste), so I particularly enjoyed Qui Creavit and Lullay, Lullow, both from the 13th century. The first, which opened the concert, was chant-like and strophic, and relatively simple while the second, coming toward the end of the program, was more song-like.
As a little bit of folk song background, many composers strolled the countryside collecting them and writing them down so that the oral traditions would not be lost. That was the case with George Butterworth (1885–1916), who arranged Folk Songs from Sussex (1912). A Blacksmith Courted Me was quite somber, including, “And though I have lost my love, I will find no other.” Sowing the Seeds of Love was brighter in tempo, and sweet, with a nice running accompaniment. The Cuckoo was an odd little waltz that I enjoyed. The True Lover’s Farewell opened with solo piano, then an a cappella verse, before finishing as a duo.
Three Irish Songs followed, two of which were straight-on folk songs sung a cappella. The third, with piano, was an arrangement (Hamilton Harty (1879–1941)) of My Lagan Love, which was an interesting treatment—sort of an expansion of the folk song tradition.
The first piano solo was next, Prelude #2 by George Gershwin (1898–1937). As announced from the stage, and noted in the printed program, Gershwin actually referred to it as a ‘blues lullaby’. Indeed, it had a gently rocking bass line with a lovely melody above that was deceptively simple sounding. There was also a really bluesy middle section before returning to the rocking rhythms. The second piano solo, toward the end of the afternoon, was For My Daughter, Nina by Leonard Bernstein (1918–1990). It was also gentle, with touches of jazz harmonies, a little more elaborate than the Gershwin, but not boisterous at all.
Immediately after the Gershwin was A Charm of Lullabies, Op. 41 (1947) by Benjamin Britten (1913–1976). Britten being Britten, there were more and more dissonant harmonies in this set of five songs, though they never quite made it to harsh. Well, maybe with the exception of the fourth, A Charm, where the child is threatened with being tormented if it won’t finally go to sleep. Who knew that lullabies could be funny?
The final set of songs, after the Bernstein, were three pulled from the two sets of Old American Songs by Aaron Copland (1900–1990). I was familiar with all three, having studied them and sung them while in college. The Little Horses is indeed a lullaby, though it does have a couple of brisk sections. Simple Gifts is a Shaker song that does have a simple tune and a simple setting. I Bought Me a Cat is charming and funny—sort of a grown-up version of Old MacDonald. The singer buys a cat, a duck, a goose, a hen, a pig, a cow, a horse, and a wife! At the end the singer recounts the sound each makes, going from the wife all the way back to the cat. It’s a great way to end a concert.
Similar to the ‘songs for children’ concert I heard a few weeks ago (Concerts on the Slope), this was interesting programming but there were lots of gently rocking pieces. Not enough to put anyone to sleep, though. And the mix of solo piano pieces and a cappella songs worked in its favor. I had a good time.
ConcertMeister
Dr. Horner-Kwiatek is a vocalist who specializes in early music as well as contemporary music. Her program on Saturday included 13th-century solo vocal works, arrangements of folk songs, and compositions in the style of folk songs.
Ms. Kampmeier also played two solos.
Clocking in at nineteen compositions, not every one will be commented on. I am a fan of early music (it’s an acquired taste), so I particularly enjoyed Qui Creavit and Lullay, Lullow, both from the 13th century. The first, which opened the concert, was chant-like and strophic, and relatively simple while the second, coming toward the end of the program, was more song-like.
As a little bit of folk song background, many composers strolled the countryside collecting them and writing them down so that the oral traditions would not be lost. That was the case with George Butterworth (1885–1916), who arranged Folk Songs from Sussex (1912). A Blacksmith Courted Me was quite somber, including, “And though I have lost my love, I will find no other.” Sowing the Seeds of Love was brighter in tempo, and sweet, with a nice running accompaniment. The Cuckoo was an odd little waltz that I enjoyed. The True Lover’s Farewell opened with solo piano, then an a cappella verse, before finishing as a duo.
Three Irish Songs followed, two of which were straight-on folk songs sung a cappella. The third, with piano, was an arrangement (Hamilton Harty (1879–1941)) of My Lagan Love, which was an interesting treatment—sort of an expansion of the folk song tradition.
The first piano solo was next, Prelude #2 by George Gershwin (1898–1937). As announced from the stage, and noted in the printed program, Gershwin actually referred to it as a ‘blues lullaby’. Indeed, it had a gently rocking bass line with a lovely melody above that was deceptively simple sounding. There was also a really bluesy middle section before returning to the rocking rhythms. The second piano solo, toward the end of the afternoon, was For My Daughter, Nina by Leonard Bernstein (1918–1990). It was also gentle, with touches of jazz harmonies, a little more elaborate than the Gershwin, but not boisterous at all.
Immediately after the Gershwin was A Charm of Lullabies, Op. 41 (1947) by Benjamin Britten (1913–1976). Britten being Britten, there were more and more dissonant harmonies in this set of five songs, though they never quite made it to harsh. Well, maybe with the exception of the fourth, A Charm, where the child is threatened with being tormented if it won’t finally go to sleep. Who knew that lullabies could be funny?
The final set of songs, after the Bernstein, were three pulled from the two sets of Old American Songs by Aaron Copland (1900–1990). I was familiar with all three, having studied them and sung them while in college. The Little Horses is indeed a lullaby, though it does have a couple of brisk sections. Simple Gifts is a Shaker song that does have a simple tune and a simple setting. I Bought Me a Cat is charming and funny—sort of a grown-up version of Old MacDonald. The singer buys a cat, a duck, a goose, a hen, a pig, a cow, a horse, and a wife! At the end the singer recounts the sound each makes, going from the wife all the way back to the cat. It’s a great way to end a concert.
Similar to the ‘songs for children’ concert I heard a few weeks ago (Concerts on the Slope), this was interesting programming but there were lots of gently rocking pieces. Not enough to put anyone to sleep, though. And the mix of solo piano pieces and a cappella songs worked in its favor. I had a good time.
ConcertMeister
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