I did, I did. Hallelujah, hallelujah, hallelujah, hallelujah! No, really. I sang the Hallelujah Chorus from Handel’s Messiah four times in four different spots in NYC.
First, a bit of backstory. Make Music (and I believe it happens in other cities (countries?)) is a phenomenon that occurs twice a year—the winter solstice and the summer solstice—where we, the people, are invited to take part in making music. There were programs throughout the day today but I focused on choral music between 6pm and 8pm.
Organizationally, it was a bit rough at first, as in, nobody explained who the conductor was or when/how we’d actually start at the first gathering space. The other three were smoothed out pretty well. The singing was all a cappella, i.e., there was no instrumental accompaniment. Even with the range of singing levels, they all also went pretty darn smoothly. Speaking of range, my pipes still function well—my range is slightly diminishing. C’est la vie. (Oh go ahead, you know you want to.)
On to the shows. We started out at Astor Place and it went nicely. The next stop was the northern end of Madison Square Park (26th Street/Madison Avenue). I decided to walk the almost twenty blocks, and I made good time. (A note, I’d planned on walking the entire route, knowing that I could always change my mind and jump on the subway if I needed to.) I spotted the group when I got there. This group of choristers was a bit smaller, but we sang lustily and with good courage. Afterwards, I began the walk to the third site.
Hmm, this one was a bit more nebulous—Times Square Plaza between 44th and 45th Streets. Hello? Times Square on the Saturday before Christmas? I made the walk and made pretty good time, actually. I think I was the first one there. I recognized two guys from the previous stop, so we formed a small group, scanning the crowd for other familiar faces. I was standing on a short wall. I then was joined by Peter, who had the brilliant idea of holding up his score pages that had “Hallelujah Chorus” at the top. Eventually, the group came together and we gave another spirited rendition.
Peter (another tenor) and I, joined by John (a bass; it sounds Biblical, doesn’t it?), decided to walk to the final location—Lincoln Center! We quickly headed west to Eighth Avenue. Hello! Theater district on Saturday night? We then went to Ninth Avenue, where the crowds were ever-so-slightly thinner. That said, we three intrepid carolers made it to the fountain at Lincoln Center with a few minutes to spare and found our group there. This might have been our largest choir, and it was definitely our largest audience. I think we brought a small spirit of joy to this fun city at a fun time of the year. Will I do it again next year? Maybe. Weather and pipes permitting.
Happy solstice! Winter arrived while I was writing this missive.
ConcertMeister
Saturday, December 21, 2019
Thursday, December 19, 2019
Holiday Songbook II (12/16/19)
OK, kids, these sixteen songs were all written for this concert. All new compositions, some heard for the very first time here. There were hits and misses, but even the misses had merit.
The concert started off with a terrific a cappella quartet singing You Feel the Christmas Spirit When … It turns out that the when was when you learned that most of your favorite Christmas songs were written by Jews! Oddly, J.C.T. (which stands for Jewish Christmas Tree) featured a rabbi who loved Christmas and commented that many beloved Christmas songs were written by Jews.
A Cautionary Tale was quite amusing. Grandpa went out to hunt down the last buck whose herd had been destroying his garden/forest. He proudly proclaimed, “The buck stops here.” When grandpa didn’t return in a timely manner, searchers went out to find him. Dead. With five holes in his chest. Antler holes. Christmasy? No. Funny? Hell, yeah.
Two of the sixteen were titled At Christmastime. Both were slightly downers. Yep, it happens (apparently twice, to different composers/lyricists).
Also in the amusing court were Christmas in a Coffee Shop (hey, money was tight that year) and Camping for Christmas. The latter featured a giant RV (not literally) that arrived with the requisite giant bow on top. Twelve-year-old Kaylin Hedges (who did a bang-up job) lamented about the lame idea of going camping for Christmas. Guess what? She ended up loving it—the fire, the stars, the camaraderie with family—what’s not to love?
I have to mention Playin’ Santa, composed (and sung) by Jay Alan Zimmerman. He’s deaf. He composes and sings. Let that sink in. And the song was lots of fun.
A Hanukah (their spelling) Song for Mama was also a lot of fun. The kids (brother and sister, but two guys singing here—welcome to the theater!) had to sing for their Hanukah presents; Mama wanted to see/hear the result of all those lessons. As the cherry on top, the composer’s Mama was in the audience. And, yes, she loved the song.
Once again, I had a great time, as did the other audience members. I do believe there will be more Songbooks in my future.
ConcertMeister
The concert started off with a terrific a cappella quartet singing You Feel the Christmas Spirit When … It turns out that the when was when you learned that most of your favorite Christmas songs were written by Jews! Oddly, J.C.T. (which stands for Jewish Christmas Tree) featured a rabbi who loved Christmas and commented that many beloved Christmas songs were written by Jews.
A Cautionary Tale was quite amusing. Grandpa went out to hunt down the last buck whose herd had been destroying his garden/forest. He proudly proclaimed, “The buck stops here.” When grandpa didn’t return in a timely manner, searchers went out to find him. Dead. With five holes in his chest. Antler holes. Christmasy? No. Funny? Hell, yeah.
Two of the sixteen were titled At Christmastime. Both were slightly downers. Yep, it happens (apparently twice, to different composers/lyricists).
Also in the amusing court were Christmas in a Coffee Shop (hey, money was tight that year) and Camping for Christmas. The latter featured a giant RV (not literally) that arrived with the requisite giant bow on top. Twelve-year-old Kaylin Hedges (who did a bang-up job) lamented about the lame idea of going camping for Christmas. Guess what? She ended up loving it—the fire, the stars, the camaraderie with family—what’s not to love?
I have to mention Playin’ Santa, composed (and sung) by Jay Alan Zimmerman. He’s deaf. He composes and sings. Let that sink in. And the song was lots of fun.
A Hanukah (their spelling) Song for Mama was also a lot of fun. The kids (brother and sister, but two guys singing here—welcome to the theater!) had to sing for their Hanukah presents; Mama wanted to see/hear the result of all those lessons. As the cherry on top, the composer’s Mama was in the audience. And, yes, she loved the song.
Once again, I had a great time, as did the other audience members. I do believe there will be more Songbooks in my future.
ConcertMeister
Tuesday, December 17, 2019
Holiday Songbook I (12/14/19)
Here’s the subtitle (and take a big breath): A Concert of Traditional and New Holiday Music Presented by Students and Alumni of Marymount Manhattan College
Whew! There were twenty pieces performed, so don’t expect a blow-by-blow and a shout-out to every performer. The setup gave this the feel of a (really good) school talent show—not that there’s anything wrong with that.
Some of the traditional works included a medley of I’ll Be Home for Christmas/Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas/The Christmas Song, which was a very pleasant start to the afternoon. Parts of the medley included nice harmonies and backup singing, with the main tunes shared pretty equally among the four singers, one of whom was the pianist who created the arrangement. Also traditional, but not really, was Man with the Bag, performed by Cissy Walken, Miss Stonewall Inn 50. Anybody who costumes/make-ups herself that much for one song deserves a shout-out. She sang (not lip-sync’ed) to a karaoke-style arrangement that was presentable but not in the ‘wow’ category.
Rounding out the traditional was Joni Mitchell’s River, which never quite does it for me as a holiday song but which was nevertheless enjoyable as a duo guitar/vocal performance; Jingle Bells (with a hip-hop dance break—I’m not making this up, you know); Oh Holy Night in an interesting arrangement for a female trio; and a highly stylized version of Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas, which book-ended the concert quite nicely.
Oops, I forgot Merry Christmas Darling (styled nicely) and the John Lennon/Yoko Ono War Is Over, performed with piano and guitar, and backup singers providing nice harmonies for the vocal soloist.
Two of the songs written specifically for this event caught my attention. Snow, which was a premiere, had interesting harmonies. And Christmas on the Beach was jazzy and also included nice harmonies. I like my harmony—it just adds more to the piece, in my opinion. And for the record, I’m referring to vocal harmonies.
A few that looked good on paper just didn’t quite make it for me. They included Winter Snow, which had a nice pop feel to it but was just OK, Never Fall in Love with an Elf, and Christmas Sweater, which had a good idea but could have been realized a little better. Once again, these are my opinions only, and I certainly give all these youngsters props for composing new material to be heard on this holiday concert.
A few others were not composed for this concert. They included Mistletoe, by Justin Bieber, and Believe (from Polar Express). The best of the bunch for me was Traigo La Alegria, written by Manny Delgado—a Venezuelan composer. He is the grandfather of the young man who performed this piece, accompanying himself on the ukulele. As he explained from the stage, the ukulele is the closest thing to a similar Venezuelan instrument that is slightly larger and tuned slightly differently. But he had the uke, so there you go. But the story gets better. His grandfather talked him through learning the piece for this concert. The piece was nice—the story was excellent.
Once again, Holiday Songbook was a lot of fun. The audience had a great time, as did I.
ConcertMeister
Whew! There were twenty pieces performed, so don’t expect a blow-by-blow and a shout-out to every performer. The setup gave this the feel of a (really good) school talent show—not that there’s anything wrong with that.
Some of the traditional works included a medley of I’ll Be Home for Christmas/Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas/The Christmas Song, which was a very pleasant start to the afternoon. Parts of the medley included nice harmonies and backup singing, with the main tunes shared pretty equally among the four singers, one of whom was the pianist who created the arrangement. Also traditional, but not really, was Man with the Bag, performed by Cissy Walken, Miss Stonewall Inn 50. Anybody who costumes/make-ups herself that much for one song deserves a shout-out. She sang (not lip-sync’ed) to a karaoke-style arrangement that was presentable but not in the ‘wow’ category.
Rounding out the traditional was Joni Mitchell’s River, which never quite does it for me as a holiday song but which was nevertheless enjoyable as a duo guitar/vocal performance; Jingle Bells (with a hip-hop dance break—I’m not making this up, you know); Oh Holy Night in an interesting arrangement for a female trio; and a highly stylized version of Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas, which book-ended the concert quite nicely.
Oops, I forgot Merry Christmas Darling (styled nicely) and the John Lennon/Yoko Ono War Is Over, performed with piano and guitar, and backup singers providing nice harmonies for the vocal soloist.
Two of the songs written specifically for this event caught my attention. Snow, which was a premiere, had interesting harmonies. And Christmas on the Beach was jazzy and also included nice harmonies. I like my harmony—it just adds more to the piece, in my opinion. And for the record, I’m referring to vocal harmonies.
A few that looked good on paper just didn’t quite make it for me. They included Winter Snow, which had a nice pop feel to it but was just OK, Never Fall in Love with an Elf, and Christmas Sweater, which had a good idea but could have been realized a little better. Once again, these are my opinions only, and I certainly give all these youngsters props for composing new material to be heard on this holiday concert.
A few others were not composed for this concert. They included Mistletoe, by Justin Bieber, and Believe (from Polar Express). The best of the bunch for me was Traigo La Alegria, written by Manny Delgado—a Venezuelan composer. He is the grandfather of the young man who performed this piece, accompanying himself on the ukulele. As he explained from the stage, the ukulele is the closest thing to a similar Venezuelan instrument that is slightly larger and tuned slightly differently. But he had the uke, so there you go. But the story gets better. His grandfather talked him through learning the piece for this concert. The piece was nice—the story was excellent.
Once again, Holiday Songbook was a lot of fun. The audience had a great time, as did I.
ConcertMeister
Wednesday, December 11, 2019
Wreath Interpretations
Dec. 5, 2019–Jan. 2, 2020 (M–F, 9:00a–5:00p, Free)
The Arsenal Gallery
830 Fifth Avenue (64th Street), Third Floor
Forty wreaths (and interpretations of wreaths did, indeed, go on). The postcard I picked up featured the wreath made of pages from a chess book, crepe paper, and a cardboard box. One wreath used recovered stuff (water balloons) from a park in Queens. Another used recycled spoons, arranged in a pleasing circle.
Some had no hole in the center (a no-no according to BabyBro, but see ^^^ Interpretations, above ^^^—sorry, BabyBro!). One that referenced a New York Mets rookie phenom caught my attention right away. I actually have a ‘Polar Bear’ commemorative T-shirt. How cool (get it?) is that?
I was also liking a sunflower-style wreath with a (gasp!) mirror in the middle. I photographed it as a pseudo-selfie. Highlighting garbage in city parks, a wreath featured pieces of water balloons salvaged from a park in Queens. Kudos to the kids who thought that one up.
The creativity on display was phenomenal. If I’m remembering correctly, this is the 38th annual version. I know I’ve visited at least once before. I’m pretty sure I’ll be back. And thanks to NY1 for doing a brief piece about this that rekindled my interest. Yeah, I’m liking NYC.
Next, Songbooks and Making Music New York.
ConcertMeister (Not this time around.)
The Arsenal Gallery
830 Fifth Avenue (64th Street), Third Floor
Forty wreaths (and interpretations of wreaths did, indeed, go on). The postcard I picked up featured the wreath made of pages from a chess book, crepe paper, and a cardboard box. One wreath used recovered stuff (water balloons) from a park in Queens. Another used recycled spoons, arranged in a pleasing circle.
Some had no hole in the center (a no-no according to BabyBro, but see ^^^ Interpretations, above ^^^—sorry, BabyBro!). One that referenced a New York Mets rookie phenom caught my attention right away. I actually have a ‘Polar Bear’ commemorative T-shirt. How cool (get it?) is that?
I was also liking a sunflower-style wreath with a (gasp!) mirror in the middle. I photographed it as a pseudo-selfie. Highlighting garbage in city parks, a wreath featured pieces of water balloons salvaged from a park in Queens. Kudos to the kids who thought that one up.
The creativity on display was phenomenal. If I’m remembering correctly, this is the 38th annual version. I know I’ve visited at least once before. I’m pretty sure I’ll be back. And thanks to NY1 for doing a brief piece about this that rekindled my interest. Yeah, I’m liking NYC.
Next, Songbooks and Making Music New York.
ConcertMeister (Not this time around.)
Monday, December 9, 2019
Gotham Radio Theatre (12/7/19)
Rudolph’s Tale: A 1964 Christmas
Vince Trani, Yukon Cornelius and Burl Ives; Sigrid Wise, Mrs. Claus and Clarice; Victor Barbella, Hermie; Laura Leopard, Rudolph; J.T. O’Connor, Santa, Fireball, and more; Sydnie Grosberg Ronga, director
To be totally honest, all five performers played ‘and more’, and there was an uncredited studio assistant who added tons of authentic radio theatre touches. That said, this one didn’t work quite as well as some other productions I’ve seen by this group—I think it’s because they were re-creating a TV show, so there would obviously be reminders of certain visual cues, which are not included in their usual radio re-creations. But that was a minor quibble.
In addition to presenting the classic “Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer” they also included renditions of TV commercials/jingles—Shake & Bake (“and we helped!”); Mr. Clean (including parts of the jingle that I didn’t recognize); and “Bewitched” (just to plug then-current-era TV shows?). Definitely enjoyable, especially the brief Agnes Moorehead and Paul Lynde impersonations.
More radio ads included the Jolly Green Giant (specifically, Niblets); Goldfinger (TV ads for movies?); Instant Folger’s; and The Addams Family (snap-snap!).
The actual story of Rudolph was created pretty much straight on, though as mentioned above, it was somewhat less effective than I expected. The one exception was Ms. Wise’s lovely, haunting presentation of “There’s Always Tomorrow”—it brought a tear to this jaded audience member’s eye.
Other commercials were for Kellogg’s Frosted Flakes (“They’re Gre-e-e-e-at!”) and Easy-Bake Oven (with a jingle that was unfamiliar to me). The songs “Silver & Gold” and “Island of Misfit Toys/When Christmas Day Is Here” also managed to hit the just-right nostalgic note.
Another couple of ads—Alka-Seltzer (with a jingle) and Rice-A-Roni (with its hummable jingle)—preceded “Holly-Jolly Christmas.” I enjoyed the performance, though not enough for me to go back and see the second one on Saturday afternoon. I can highly recommend Gotham Radio Theatre—just not this edition, unless you’re a hard-core Rudolph fan. There was a sing-along of the title song at the end of the performance. I added a hearty, “Ho, ho, ho!” after “… Santa came to say … ”—why didn’t they think of that?
ConcertMeister
Vince Trani, Yukon Cornelius and Burl Ives; Sigrid Wise, Mrs. Claus and Clarice; Victor Barbella, Hermie; Laura Leopard, Rudolph; J.T. O’Connor, Santa, Fireball, and more; Sydnie Grosberg Ronga, director
To be totally honest, all five performers played ‘and more’, and there was an uncredited studio assistant who added tons of authentic radio theatre touches. That said, this one didn’t work quite as well as some other productions I’ve seen by this group—I think it’s because they were re-creating a TV show, so there would obviously be reminders of certain visual cues, which are not included in their usual radio re-creations. But that was a minor quibble.
In addition to presenting the classic “Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer” they also included renditions of TV commercials/jingles—Shake & Bake (“and we helped!”); Mr. Clean (including parts of the jingle that I didn’t recognize); and “Bewitched” (just to plug then-current-era TV shows?). Definitely enjoyable, especially the brief Agnes Moorehead and Paul Lynde impersonations.
More radio ads included the Jolly Green Giant (specifically, Niblets); Goldfinger (TV ads for movies?); Instant Folger’s; and The Addams Family (snap-snap!).
The actual story of Rudolph was created pretty much straight on, though as mentioned above, it was somewhat less effective than I expected. The one exception was Ms. Wise’s lovely, haunting presentation of “There’s Always Tomorrow”—it brought a tear to this jaded audience member’s eye.
Other commercials were for Kellogg’s Frosted Flakes (“They’re Gre-e-e-e-at!”) and Easy-Bake Oven (with a jingle that was unfamiliar to me). The songs “Silver & Gold” and “Island of Misfit Toys/When Christmas Day Is Here” also managed to hit the just-right nostalgic note.
Another couple of ads—Alka-Seltzer (with a jingle) and Rice-A-Roni (with its hummable jingle)—preceded “Holly-Jolly Christmas.” I enjoyed the performance, though not enough for me to go back and see the second one on Saturday afternoon. I can highly recommend Gotham Radio Theatre—just not this edition, unless you’re a hard-core Rudolph fan. There was a sing-along of the title song at the end of the performance. I added a hearty, “Ho, ho, ho!” after “… Santa came to say … ”—why didn’t they think of that?
ConcertMeister
Sunday, December 8, 2019
Midday Masterpieces (12/4/19)
Gypsy Folklore – Ulysses Quartet – Christina Bouey, violin; Rhiannon Banerdt, violin; Colin Brookes, viola; Grace Ho, cello
Armenian Folk Songs for String Quartet – Komitas – Vagharshabadi Dance, It’s Cloudy, The Partridge
Rhapsody (2018) – Paul Frucht (b. 1989)
String Quartet No. 2, “From the Monkey Mountains,” Op. 7 – Wild Night; Vivace e con fuoco (only one movement was played; I’m not sure which one) – Pavel Haas
String Quartet No. 4 in c minor, Op.18, No. 4 – Allegro ma non tanto; Andante scherzoso quasi allegretto; Menuetto: Allegretto; Allegro – Prestissimo – Beethoven
The first folk song was energetic, though not too much. The second had one of the violins and the cello bowed while the other violin and viola were plucked (pizzicato). Eventually all four were bowing. It was mostly gentle and relaxing followed by a swooping grander section before returning to gentleness. The third was just plain energetic and fun.
The composer, Mr. Frucht, introduced his piece. He is a Juilliard alum, and all four string players are Juilliard students. The piece was very modern, almost bordering on harsh, though there were a few calmer sections. As a whole, it didn’t quite do it for me.
The Monkey Mountain movement featured Mr. Frucht as percussionist (lite)—snare drum, tom-tom(?), wood block, cymbal, and triangle. Apparently Mr. Haas created the piece with optional percussion, then removed the percussion, and then reinstated it. Whew! We heard it with percussion. It was also very modern (and at one point the violist added a police whistle to the mix—I’m not making this up, you know!). I liked this better than the previous piece, but not a whole lot better.
The Beethoven was much more traditional (duh!). The first movement was dark and brooding, though with energy, in its introduction. It was then pleasant and dance-like with a mix of playful and serious sections, though it was rather lengthy. The second movement had fugue-like entries by all four players, and it also had a mix of serious and playful, with touches of elegance added into the mix. The third was energetic while also being slightly dark and heavy. It finished with a nice flourish. The final movement was brisk yet controlled. A calmer section followed before returning to brisk and, actually, presto to the cute ending. In theory, some of the Beethoven was vaguely gypsy-/folklore-esque—I didn’t quite see it that way. But I enjoyed it nonetheless.
ConcertMeister
Armenian Folk Songs for String Quartet – Komitas – Vagharshabadi Dance, It’s Cloudy, The Partridge
Rhapsody (2018) – Paul Frucht (b. 1989)
String Quartet No. 2, “From the Monkey Mountains,” Op. 7 – Wild Night; Vivace e con fuoco (only one movement was played; I’m not sure which one) – Pavel Haas
String Quartet No. 4 in c minor, Op.18, No. 4 – Allegro ma non tanto; Andante scherzoso quasi allegretto; Menuetto: Allegretto; Allegro – Prestissimo – Beethoven
The first folk song was energetic, though not too much. The second had one of the violins and the cello bowed while the other violin and viola were plucked (pizzicato). Eventually all four were bowing. It was mostly gentle and relaxing followed by a swooping grander section before returning to gentleness. The third was just plain energetic and fun.
The composer, Mr. Frucht, introduced his piece. He is a Juilliard alum, and all four string players are Juilliard students. The piece was very modern, almost bordering on harsh, though there were a few calmer sections. As a whole, it didn’t quite do it for me.
The Monkey Mountain movement featured Mr. Frucht as percussionist (lite)—snare drum, tom-tom(?), wood block, cymbal, and triangle. Apparently Mr. Haas created the piece with optional percussion, then removed the percussion, and then reinstated it. Whew! We heard it with percussion. It was also very modern (and at one point the violist added a police whistle to the mix—I’m not making this up, you know!). I liked this better than the previous piece, but not a whole lot better.
The Beethoven was much more traditional (duh!). The first movement was dark and brooding, though with energy, in its introduction. It was then pleasant and dance-like with a mix of playful and serious sections, though it was rather lengthy. The second movement had fugue-like entries by all four players, and it also had a mix of serious and playful, with touches of elegance added into the mix. The third was energetic while also being slightly dark and heavy. It finished with a nice flourish. The final movement was brisk yet controlled. A calmer section followed before returning to brisk and, actually, presto to the cute ending. In theory, some of the Beethoven was vaguely gypsy-/folklore-esque—I didn’t quite see it that way. But I enjoyed it nonetheless.
ConcertMeister
Thursday, December 5, 2019
Elgar: Noble and Sublime (11/23/19)
Margaret Kampmeier, piano; Susan Rotholz, flute; Jill Levy, violin; Michael Roth, violin; Sarah Adams, viola; Eliot Bailen, cello
Three Winged Movements – The Hawk’s Glide; At the Bat’s Dwelling; Hummingbird’s Gaiety – Lior Navok (b. 1971)
Venetian Boat Song – Felix Mendelssohn (1809–1847)
Allegro Molto – Fanny Mendelssohn Hensel (1805–1847)
Quintet for Piano and Strings in A Minor, Op. 84 – Moderato–Allegro; Adagio; Andante–Allegro – Edward Elgar (1857–1934)
Fun facts gleaned from remarks by the performers: The Mendelssohns (siblings) were instrumental in bringing the music of J.S. Bach back into vogue during their lifetimes. The Elgar quintet was written in 1918, and Elgar was knighted in 1904. Now, on to the music.
The first winged piece, all three were for flute and piano, had a splashy opening and then wandered into modern phrases and harmonies. My takeaway was that it had modern, pretty sounds. The second had a slightly extended piano opening before the flute came in with more modern, pretty sounds, though with a hint of anxiety, or so it seemed to me. The third was much more brisk (almost bordering on frantic) and was the most interesting of the three, though it went on a bit long.
Felix M.’s solo piano piece was gentle and pleasant, sort of a barcarolle, and had a nice overall arc, in a relatively simple and effective way. Fanny M.’s solo piano piece was more energetic. It was slightly dramatic, had a song-like feel to it, with quite a few embellishments, and had a rather dramatic section before winding down to a quiet ending.
The first movement of the Elgar had a slightly mysterious opening followed by pretty writing for the strings, with the piano then joining in. There was a mix of dramatic and gentleness, then a big, full dramatic section before closing out with gentleness and, again, a bit of mystery. A gentle opening by the quartet started the second movement before being joined by the piano. It was relatively sedate, though it also included some sedate drama, as well. It was a little lengthy and meandering, but still pretty and, mostly, interesting. The third movement was also fairly gentle to begin with, though there were hints of drama, too, plus a playful section (still tinged with drama) before leading to a full and energetic ending.
I’m not quite sure how ‘Noble and Sublime’ (from the title) figured into the afternoon, but I’m glad that I heard these interesting pieces, all of which were new to me.
ConcertMeister
Three Winged Movements – The Hawk’s Glide; At the Bat’s Dwelling; Hummingbird’s Gaiety – Lior Navok (b. 1971)
Venetian Boat Song – Felix Mendelssohn (1809–1847)
Allegro Molto – Fanny Mendelssohn Hensel (1805–1847)
Quintet for Piano and Strings in A Minor, Op. 84 – Moderato–Allegro; Adagio; Andante–Allegro – Edward Elgar (1857–1934)
Fun facts gleaned from remarks by the performers: The Mendelssohns (siblings) were instrumental in bringing the music of J.S. Bach back into vogue during their lifetimes. The Elgar quintet was written in 1918, and Elgar was knighted in 1904. Now, on to the music.
The first winged piece, all three were for flute and piano, had a splashy opening and then wandered into modern phrases and harmonies. My takeaway was that it had modern, pretty sounds. The second had a slightly extended piano opening before the flute came in with more modern, pretty sounds, though with a hint of anxiety, or so it seemed to me. The third was much more brisk (almost bordering on frantic) and was the most interesting of the three, though it went on a bit long.
Felix M.’s solo piano piece was gentle and pleasant, sort of a barcarolle, and had a nice overall arc, in a relatively simple and effective way. Fanny M.’s solo piano piece was more energetic. It was slightly dramatic, had a song-like feel to it, with quite a few embellishments, and had a rather dramatic section before winding down to a quiet ending.
The first movement of the Elgar had a slightly mysterious opening followed by pretty writing for the strings, with the piano then joining in. There was a mix of dramatic and gentleness, then a big, full dramatic section before closing out with gentleness and, again, a bit of mystery. A gentle opening by the quartet started the second movement before being joined by the piano. It was relatively sedate, though it also included some sedate drama, as well. It was a little lengthy and meandering, but still pretty and, mostly, interesting. The third movement was also fairly gentle to begin with, though there were hints of drama, too, plus a playful section (still tinged with drama) before leading to a full and energetic ending.
I’m not quite sure how ‘Noble and Sublime’ (from the title) figured into the afternoon, but I’m glad that I heard these interesting pieces, all of which were new to me.
ConcertMeister
Friday, November 22, 2019
Paderewski and Szymanowski (11/16/19)
Radoslaw Sobczak, piano
Menuet in G major, Op. 14 No. 1 – Ignacy Paderewski (1860–1941)
Nocturne in B flat major, Op. 16, No. 4 (Paderewski)
Piano Sonata, Op. 21 (1906) – I. Allegro con fuoco; II. Andante ma non troppo; III. Allegro vivace (Paderewski)
Mazurka, Op. 50, No. 1 – Karol Szymanowski (1882–1937)
Three Preludes, Op. 1 – No. 2, No. 3, No. 7 – (Szymanowski)
Piano Sonata in A major, Op. 21, M25 (1912) – I. Allegro assai (molto appassionata); II. Thema, Allegretto tranquillo. Graziosa – (Szymanowski)
It was interesting programming. After the fact, I almost wondered if the two minor Paderewski pieces might have been better paired with the major Szymanowski piece, and then the two (four) minor Szymanowski pieces with the major Paderewski. Just my musing.
The Menuet was sweet and gentle, rhythmic as a dance form then expanding to grandeur (playful?). The Nocturne had a gentle opening but was slightly darker and more subdued, though with a lovely feel.
The first movement of the Paderewski sonata was rhythmic and almost aggressive. You could tell that we had moved into a new century. It was more modern in style though still firmly tonal. The movement had fancy finger work with a masterful composition masterfully played, with touches of gentleness as well as a strong firm finish. The second movement was slower but still had hints of deepness and strength that segued into a third movement of storm and bombast—driving rhythmically to the very end.
Interestingly (at least to me), Mr. Sobczak played the first half of the program from memory and the second half from a paper (not tablet) score. That is all.
The first Szymanowski Prelude seemed a little more esoteric than the first Paderewski Menuet (hey, that’s the crazy way my brain works). It seemed to have a bit of an Asian/Oriental flare. It was quite lush and Romantic. The second was slower and slightly less structured (or maybe just differently structured?). The third was sort-of-almost impressionistic, more fluid and dreamlike.
The first movement of the Szymanowski Sonata was a little modern, with a rambunctious mystical quality—it made sense (both the composition and the playing were very impressive) but I didn’t like it very much. The second was more playful, with less bombast, but the bombast returned with a vengeance.
I was very grateful for the tranquillo, grazioso section though there was an angular fugal section that came out of nowhere.
All in all, a really fun concert. And a pianist in white tie and tails!
ConcertMeister
Menuet in G major, Op. 14 No. 1 – Ignacy Paderewski (1860–1941)
Nocturne in B flat major, Op. 16, No. 4 (Paderewski)
Piano Sonata, Op. 21 (1906) – I. Allegro con fuoco; II. Andante ma non troppo; III. Allegro vivace (Paderewski)
Mazurka, Op. 50, No. 1 – Karol Szymanowski (1882–1937)
Three Preludes, Op. 1 – No. 2, No. 3, No. 7 – (Szymanowski)
Piano Sonata in A major, Op. 21, M25 (1912) – I. Allegro assai (molto appassionata); II. Thema, Allegretto tranquillo. Graziosa – (Szymanowski)
It was interesting programming. After the fact, I almost wondered if the two minor Paderewski pieces might have been better paired with the major Szymanowski piece, and then the two (four) minor Szymanowski pieces with the major Paderewski. Just my musing.
The Menuet was sweet and gentle, rhythmic as a dance form then expanding to grandeur (playful?). The Nocturne had a gentle opening but was slightly darker and more subdued, though with a lovely feel.
The first movement of the Paderewski sonata was rhythmic and almost aggressive. You could tell that we had moved into a new century. It was more modern in style though still firmly tonal. The movement had fancy finger work with a masterful composition masterfully played, with touches of gentleness as well as a strong firm finish. The second movement was slower but still had hints of deepness and strength that segued into a third movement of storm and bombast—driving rhythmically to the very end.
Interestingly (at least to me), Mr. Sobczak played the first half of the program from memory and the second half from a paper (not tablet) score. That is all.
The first Szymanowski Prelude seemed a little more esoteric than the first Paderewski Menuet (hey, that’s the crazy way my brain works). It seemed to have a bit of an Asian/Oriental flare. It was quite lush and Romantic. The second was slower and slightly less structured (or maybe just differently structured?). The third was sort-of-almost impressionistic, more fluid and dreamlike.
The first movement of the Szymanowski Sonata was a little modern, with a rambunctious mystical quality—it made sense (both the composition and the playing were very impressive) but I didn’t like it very much. The second was more playful, with less bombast, but the bombast returned with a vengeance.
I was very grateful for the tranquillo, grazioso section though there was an angular fugal section that came out of nowhere.
All in all, a really fun concert. And a pianist in white tie and tails!
ConcertMeister
Tuesday, November 19, 2019
Canstruction (11/19/19)
Brookfield Place. This one is definitely Manhattan-centric. Canstruction is an event that focuses on using canned food as an artistic device—thirty-one entries used 107,640 cans of food in various ways to construct edifices of varied ideas. Because 2019 is the 50th anniversary of man landing on the moon, that figured into several entries. Here’s the really cool part. After the event, the sculptures will be dismantled and all 107,640 cans of food will be donated to City Harvest. As another plus, visitors are encouraged to bring a canned food item (I did) to donate, as well. Win-win, in my book. Plus, NY peeps, it runs through Thursday, 11/21. Go and visit, if you can (get it?).
Here are a few sample titles of works: Hunger CAN Gogh; Quacktastick (a canned sculpture of Scrooge McDuck); and For All CANkind (NASA-based).
Some more numbers. The most cans used in a single entry was 7,554. One entry only used 516 cans, but it was very effective. Tomatoes, tuna, and beans were tops. Corn, green beans, mackerel, and tomato sauce were also represented in great numbers. For the record, my donation was a 14.5 oz. can of Hunt’s Fire-Roasted Tomatoes.
The creativity was phenomenal. There was Ursula (Under the Sea), Snoopy (landing on the moon), a Big Apple (duh!), Venice’s Grand CANal … you get my drift? This is at least the second (maybe third/fourth?) time I’ve made the trek to lower Manhattan to experience this event. It is well worth it.
Did I spend a lot of time counting cans? No. Did I have a good experience, knowing that I am supporting the war against hunger (which should NOT have to be waged)? Resoundingly, yes.
I’m pretty sure this will be in my rep for many, many more years to come.
p.s. I took photos with the tablet. Note to self: Figure out the best way to take photos with the tablet!
ConcertMeister (CANcertMeister)
Here are a few sample titles of works: Hunger CAN Gogh; Quacktastick (a canned sculpture of Scrooge McDuck); and For All CANkind (NASA-based).
Some more numbers. The most cans used in a single entry was 7,554. One entry only used 516 cans, but it was very effective. Tomatoes, tuna, and beans were tops. Corn, green beans, mackerel, and tomato sauce were also represented in great numbers. For the record, my donation was a 14.5 oz. can of Hunt’s Fire-Roasted Tomatoes.
The creativity was phenomenal. There was Ursula (Under the Sea), Snoopy (landing on the moon), a Big Apple (duh!), Venice’s Grand CANal … you get my drift? This is at least the second (maybe third/fourth?) time I’ve made the trek to lower Manhattan to experience this event. It is well worth it.
Did I spend a lot of time counting cans? No. Did I have a good experience, knowing that I am supporting the war against hunger (which should NOT have to be waged)? Resoundingly, yes.
I’m pretty sure this will be in my rep for many, many more years to come.
p.s. I took photos with the tablet. Note to self: Figure out the best way to take photos with the tablet!
ConcertMeister (CANcertMeister)
Sunday, November 17, 2019
Heinz 57
Lost yet? Catsup? (Nope.) Ketchup? (Nope.) Catch-up? (Yep!)
I have been terribly lax about posting, lately. (I’ve been going places, just not posting. You’d think I’d have more time … but I digress.)
The following will be a listing of things I’ve seen recently, with a few notes added. There will not be full write-ups of everything.
OK, here goes. Wonder Women of the Silents (10/12/19 and 11/9/19): Yes, two editions of silent films with piano accompaniment by the incomparable Ben Model. The films: Mabel, Fatty and the Law (1915), Should Men Walk Home? (1927, starring Mabel Normand), and What Happened to Rosa (1921) (note the lack of a question mark—this film explores exactly what happened to her; starring Mabel Normand). Fun stuff. Linking these together, the second installment had Sure-Mike! (1925) and Irene (1926). These starred totally new comediennes to me—Martha Sleeper and Colleen Moore, respectively. New to me and funny as can be.
Pieces of Us – Washington Heights Chamber Orchestra (10/19/19). This was, technically, not a freebie for me as I was guested by a subscriber to the series. That said, tickets bought ahead of time are $5.00. If you procrastinate and buy at the door, you’ll pay a whopping $7.00! Here’s the program: What Keeps Me Awake – Angélica Negrón (b. 1981); Guitar Concerto – Heitor Villa-Lobos (1887–1959) – Nikos Andreas, guitar; Symphony No. 4 in E Minor, Op 98 – Johannes Brahms (1883–1897). Let that sink in—a new work (with the composer in attendance), an established guitar concerto, and a full-blown Brahms symphony. For five, or seven, bucks. Is this the New York Phil? No, but it’s a darned good neighborhood chamber orchestra.
The Pursuit of Happiness – Haydn and Beethoven String Quartets (10/26/19). This was part of the NY Lincoln Center Library for the Performing Arts’ overarching Beethoven and the New World Spirit program celebrating the upcoming 250th birth anniversary celebration of Ludwig van Beethoven in 2020. This program included readings from works of LvB, Georg August Griesenger, Thomas Jefferson, Alexander Wheelock Thayer (an American librarian who traveled to Europe in order to study and write a biography of LvB), and Friedrich Schiller. TMI? The pieces heard: String Quartet in C Major, Op. 54, No. 2 (1788) – Franz Joseph Haydn (1732–1809) (considered to be the father of the string quartet); Duet mit zwei obligaten Augensgläsern (WoO) 32 (1796) – LvB (1770–1827); and String Quartet No. 2 in G Major, Op. 18, no. 2 (LvB). The quartet here (all New York Classical Players members) was composed of I-Jung Huang and Stephanie Zyzak, violins; En-Chi Yeng, viola; and Madeline Fayette, cello. Interestingly, the Beethoven duet was written as a sort of a joke. The player who commissioned the work was famous for misplacing his eyeglasses. LvB hinted in the piece that the patron might play better if he found his eyeglasses!
There is a direct link to the 11/2/19 concert – Beethoven String Quartet No. 13 in B flat Major, Op. 130/133 (1825). This is a very late quartet—remember Beethoven died in 1827. It’s in six movements, with the sixth – Grosse Fugue, Op. 133 – accounting for the odd opus numbering above. The quartet players here were, once again, all NY Classical Players members. Mari Lee and Harriet Langley, violins; En-Chi Cheng, viola; and Sujin Lee, cello. There were additional readings from Christoph Christian Sturm’s (1740–1786) Reflections on the Works of God and His Providence Throughout All Nature, read by Amelia Anderson. They were effective but not really necessary. Here are a few examples of readings’ titles: The Tireless Diligence of Bees; The Frost Sometimes Seen on Glass Windows; Chance Occurrences (underlined three times!); Wandering Plants and Growths; and The Tulip. At best, saccharine, anyone?
Backtracking just a bit, here’s Songbook (10/28/19), featuring the music of Anthony Nunziata. The kid is talented, though there was no clear delineation between where he was composer, lyricist, or book writer—or both or all—not that there’s anything wrong with that. It just made the evening a little bit difficult to follow, as far as I was concerned. The songs themselves adhered very strongly to the “What’s the right way to build a song?” conundrum style: Slow, light opening, build the intensity, almost reach the pro-style, anthem-hitting plateau, then a gradual release back to everything you were hiding from. It’s very effective, for what it’s worth. It wasn’t worth much to me at the time. Maybe I’ll learn to love it … nah! who am I kidding?
I attended a very interesting piano concert yesterday afternoon (11/16/19). I’ll try to write a full report about this one soon.
ConcertMeister
I have been terribly lax about posting, lately. (I’ve been going places, just not posting. You’d think I’d have more time … but I digress.)
The following will be a listing of things I’ve seen recently, with a few notes added. There will not be full write-ups of everything.
OK, here goes. Wonder Women of the Silents (10/12/19 and 11/9/19): Yes, two editions of silent films with piano accompaniment by the incomparable Ben Model. The films: Mabel, Fatty and the Law (1915), Should Men Walk Home? (1927, starring Mabel Normand), and What Happened to Rosa (1921) (note the lack of a question mark—this film explores exactly what happened to her; starring Mabel Normand). Fun stuff. Linking these together, the second installment had Sure-Mike! (1925) and Irene (1926). These starred totally new comediennes to me—Martha Sleeper and Colleen Moore, respectively. New to me and funny as can be.
Pieces of Us – Washington Heights Chamber Orchestra (10/19/19). This was, technically, not a freebie for me as I was guested by a subscriber to the series. That said, tickets bought ahead of time are $5.00. If you procrastinate and buy at the door, you’ll pay a whopping $7.00! Here’s the program: What Keeps Me Awake – Angélica Negrón (b. 1981); Guitar Concerto – Heitor Villa-Lobos (1887–1959) – Nikos Andreas, guitar; Symphony No. 4 in E Minor, Op 98 – Johannes Brahms (1883–1897). Let that sink in—a new work (with the composer in attendance), an established guitar concerto, and a full-blown Brahms symphony. For five, or seven, bucks. Is this the New York Phil? No, but it’s a darned good neighborhood chamber orchestra.
The Pursuit of Happiness – Haydn and Beethoven String Quartets (10/26/19). This was part of the NY Lincoln Center Library for the Performing Arts’ overarching Beethoven and the New World Spirit program celebrating the upcoming 250th birth anniversary celebration of Ludwig van Beethoven in 2020. This program included readings from works of LvB, Georg August Griesenger, Thomas Jefferson, Alexander Wheelock Thayer (an American librarian who traveled to Europe in order to study and write a biography of LvB), and Friedrich Schiller. TMI? The pieces heard: String Quartet in C Major, Op. 54, No. 2 (1788) – Franz Joseph Haydn (1732–1809) (considered to be the father of the string quartet); Duet mit zwei obligaten Augensgläsern (WoO) 32 (1796) – LvB (1770–1827); and String Quartet No. 2 in G Major, Op. 18, no. 2 (LvB). The quartet here (all New York Classical Players members) was composed of I-Jung Huang and Stephanie Zyzak, violins; En-Chi Yeng, viola; and Madeline Fayette, cello. Interestingly, the Beethoven duet was written as a sort of a joke. The player who commissioned the work was famous for misplacing his eyeglasses. LvB hinted in the piece that the patron might play better if he found his eyeglasses!
There is a direct link to the 11/2/19 concert – Beethoven String Quartet No. 13 in B flat Major, Op. 130/133 (1825). This is a very late quartet—remember Beethoven died in 1827. It’s in six movements, with the sixth – Grosse Fugue, Op. 133 – accounting for the odd opus numbering above. The quartet players here were, once again, all NY Classical Players members. Mari Lee and Harriet Langley, violins; En-Chi Cheng, viola; and Sujin Lee, cello. There were additional readings from Christoph Christian Sturm’s (1740–1786) Reflections on the Works of God and His Providence Throughout All Nature, read by Amelia Anderson. They were effective but not really necessary. Here are a few examples of readings’ titles: The Tireless Diligence of Bees; The Frost Sometimes Seen on Glass Windows; Chance Occurrences (underlined three times!); Wandering Plants and Growths; and The Tulip. At best, saccharine, anyone?
Backtracking just a bit, here’s Songbook (10/28/19), featuring the music of Anthony Nunziata. The kid is talented, though there was no clear delineation between where he was composer, lyricist, or book writer—or both or all—not that there’s anything wrong with that. It just made the evening a little bit difficult to follow, as far as I was concerned. The songs themselves adhered very strongly to the “What’s the right way to build a song?” conundrum style: Slow, light opening, build the intensity, almost reach the pro-style, anthem-hitting plateau, then a gradual release back to everything you were hiding from. It’s very effective, for what it’s worth. It wasn’t worth much to me at the time. Maybe I’ll learn to love it … nah! who am I kidding?
I attended a very interesting piano concert yesterday afternoon (11/16/19). I’ll try to write a full report about this one soon.
ConcertMeister
Thursday, October 24, 2019
Pierre Soulages: A Century (10/17/19)
OK, this was an art installation with a musical component at the event. The paintings were mostly thick slabs of acrylic black paint smeared across the canvas. But … there were a few splashes of color and a few defined uses of color.
This event was highlighting M. Soulages’ centenary. He is still alive and, with any luck, will be attending his upcoming solo show at the Louvre. His painting style was not quite my cup of tea but, hey—that’s what makes a horse race.
The event I attended featured the world premiere of a piece (commissioned by the Lévy Gorvy gallery) composed by Anthony Vine. And Mr. Vine was there for the premiere. It was played by The Rhythm Method, an all-female string quartet that, according to their own website, is “fierce, fearless, and virtuosic … unapologetically stylistically omnivorous and versatile.” Works for me.
The music was pretty much static. It began with all players playing a unison note (maybe an octave involved?). We then went to harmonics added—notes played very close to the other notes, but not half-steps or whole-steps, These were micro-steps, so that the sound was almost grating on the ear. It created a wall of sound, although a relatively gentle one.
What followed was a duo for violins, the viola added, and then the cello. This exact pattern repeated a second time. It was mesmerizing, though without really grabbing my interest, sounding like the kind of thing that is made up on the spot—but I’m pretty sure it was carefully notated in the score. The aforementioned repeated pattern was repeated yet again. In its favor, when the volume increased, it seemed much more insistent. But that didn’t amount to too much.
One nice thing about these art gallery performances is the inclusion of wine. White wine went well with the white noise. (In this case, one could have chosen sparkling water, but did I mention white wine?)
Kudos to the gallery for presenting an event with an artistic (on several levels) focus.
ConcertMeister
This event was highlighting M. Soulages’ centenary. He is still alive and, with any luck, will be attending his upcoming solo show at the Louvre. His painting style was not quite my cup of tea but, hey—that’s what makes a horse race.
The event I attended featured the world premiere of a piece (commissioned by the Lévy Gorvy gallery) composed by Anthony Vine. And Mr. Vine was there for the premiere. It was played by The Rhythm Method, an all-female string quartet that, according to their own website, is “fierce, fearless, and virtuosic … unapologetically stylistically omnivorous and versatile.” Works for me.
The music was pretty much static. It began with all players playing a unison note (maybe an octave involved?). We then went to harmonics added—notes played very close to the other notes, but not half-steps or whole-steps, These were micro-steps, so that the sound was almost grating on the ear. It created a wall of sound, although a relatively gentle one.
What followed was a duo for violins, the viola added, and then the cello. This exact pattern repeated a second time. It was mesmerizing, though without really grabbing my interest, sounding like the kind of thing that is made up on the spot—but I’m pretty sure it was carefully notated in the score. The aforementioned repeated pattern was repeated yet again. In its favor, when the volume increased, it seemed much more insistent. But that didn’t amount to too much.
One nice thing about these art gallery performances is the inclusion of wine. White wine went well with the white noise. (In this case, one could have chosen sparkling water, but did I mention white wine?)
Kudos to the gallery for presenting an event with an artistic (on several levels) focus.
ConcertMeister
Tuesday, October 8, 2019
L’Amore della Musica (10/5/19)
Cecilia Sparacio, flute; Arianna Kalian, oboe; Simeon Loring, clarinet; Nancy Vizza, horn; Lori Brand, bassoon; David See, piano
Allegro con moto from Quintet No. 1, Op. 18 – Felix Mendelssohn/
Loring (1809–1847)
Concertino for Clarinet – I. Grave; II. Allegro molto; III. Adagio; IV. Allegro risoluto – Giuseppe Tartini/Loring (1692–1770)
Sciarda Spagnuola – I. Entrata; II. Pavanne; III. Gagliarda; IV. Passamezzo;
V. Frottola; VI. Finale – Juriann Andriessen (1925–1996)
Divertissement, Op.6, Sextet for piano and winds – Albert Roussel (1869–1937)
Quintet in E-flat, Op. 16, for piano and winds – I. Grave – Allegro, ma non troppo; II. Andante cantabile; III. Rondo: Allegro, ma non troppo – Ludvig van Beethoven (1770–1827)
First off, L’Amore is a wind quintet. Yes. There is a horn there, which is brass, and yes, there is a flute there which is some sort of metal. But they comprise a woodwind quintet—I don’t make the rules, I merely play by them. Mr. See, on the piano, was a bonus player, and a very good one at that.
The Mendelssohn/Loring (see Loring, above) was charming, with an interesting staccato theme (think tap-tap-tap-tap-tap) that got tossed around to all five players in the quintet. It was a fun movement but it did tend to go on and on.
The Tartini was cobbled together by Mr. Loring from different movements of different pieces written by Signore Tartini. The first movement was slow and almost plodding while the second was brisk and bright, with the clarinet featured much more prominently. The third was slow again but with more charm than the first movement. The final movement was jaunty, with repetitive phrases that were almost like a theme and variations.
While I didn’t get too much of a hint of Spanish flair, the first movement of the Andriessen was much more modern, rhythmic, and very brief. The second was gentle, yet still intricate and interesting, and the third was full of fun rhythms, with touches of humor. The fourth movement was sweet. It had a contrasting section that still maintained the sweetness. The fifth was brisk, but with a certain heft to it. The Finale was very similar to the Entrata and rounded out the piece nicely.
Adding the piano to the wind quintet was a very nice touch. It created fuller music that still highlighted the quirky quality of the wind quintet. The Roussel started with solo piano and then added the oboe and then the clarinet, and then everyone jumped into the mix. It was somewhat modern but listenable, and at times reminded me of Debussy (though it made its own statement). An interesting touch—at times the horn played with a mute inserted into the bell of the horn, giving it a somewhat buzzy sound. The entire piece was playful at times without going overboard.
The Beethoven quintet (alas the flutist was demoted to page turner for the pianist) opened with the instruments playing in unison/octaves, followed by a brief flash of solo piano. My notes say that there was a slight sense of dark drama, and that the first movement was pleasant but felt a little too long. The second movement had a fairly lengthy piano opening and then all of the players joined in. In general, it was slower and calmer and seemed a bit lengthy, as in, did not really hold my interest. The final movement was quicker but not frantic at all. There was a very nice interplay between the piano and the winds.
Was this stellar playing? Not exactly. Was this a nice afternoon of varied music? Exactly. I’d say this group is worth another revisit. I think my last post about them was in 2015. Age is showing with them (and with me) but there’s still a lot on offer.
ConcertMeister
Allegro con moto from Quintet No. 1, Op. 18 – Felix Mendelssohn/
Loring (1809–1847)
Concertino for Clarinet – I. Grave; II. Allegro molto; III. Adagio; IV. Allegro risoluto – Giuseppe Tartini/Loring (1692–1770)
Sciarda Spagnuola – I. Entrata; II. Pavanne; III. Gagliarda; IV. Passamezzo;
V. Frottola; VI. Finale – Juriann Andriessen (1925–1996)
Divertissement, Op.6, Sextet for piano and winds – Albert Roussel (1869–1937)
Quintet in E-flat, Op. 16, for piano and winds – I. Grave – Allegro, ma non troppo; II. Andante cantabile; III. Rondo: Allegro, ma non troppo – Ludvig van Beethoven (1770–1827)
First off, L’Amore is a wind quintet. Yes. There is a horn there, which is brass, and yes, there is a flute there which is some sort of metal. But they comprise a woodwind quintet—I don’t make the rules, I merely play by them. Mr. See, on the piano, was a bonus player, and a very good one at that.
The Mendelssohn/Loring (see Loring, above) was charming, with an interesting staccato theme (think tap-tap-tap-tap-tap) that got tossed around to all five players in the quintet. It was a fun movement but it did tend to go on and on.
The Tartini was cobbled together by Mr. Loring from different movements of different pieces written by Signore Tartini. The first movement was slow and almost plodding while the second was brisk and bright, with the clarinet featured much more prominently. The third was slow again but with more charm than the first movement. The final movement was jaunty, with repetitive phrases that were almost like a theme and variations.
While I didn’t get too much of a hint of Spanish flair, the first movement of the Andriessen was much more modern, rhythmic, and very brief. The second was gentle, yet still intricate and interesting, and the third was full of fun rhythms, with touches of humor. The fourth movement was sweet. It had a contrasting section that still maintained the sweetness. The fifth was brisk, but with a certain heft to it. The Finale was very similar to the Entrata and rounded out the piece nicely.
Adding the piano to the wind quintet was a very nice touch. It created fuller music that still highlighted the quirky quality of the wind quintet. The Roussel started with solo piano and then added the oboe and then the clarinet, and then everyone jumped into the mix. It was somewhat modern but listenable, and at times reminded me of Debussy (though it made its own statement). An interesting touch—at times the horn played with a mute inserted into the bell of the horn, giving it a somewhat buzzy sound. The entire piece was playful at times without going overboard.
The Beethoven quintet (alas the flutist was demoted to page turner for the pianist) opened with the instruments playing in unison/octaves, followed by a brief flash of solo piano. My notes say that there was a slight sense of dark drama, and that the first movement was pleasant but felt a little too long. The second movement had a fairly lengthy piano opening and then all of the players joined in. In general, it was slower and calmer and seemed a bit lengthy, as in, did not really hold my interest. The final movement was quicker but not frantic at all. There was a very nice interplay between the piano and the winds.
Was this stellar playing? Not exactly. Was this a nice afternoon of varied music? Exactly. I’d say this group is worth another revisit. I think my last post about them was in 2015. Age is showing with them (and with me) but there’s still a lot on offer.
ConcertMeister
Sunday, October 6, 2019
Midday Masterpieces (10/2/19)
Kate Liu, piano
Mazurkas, Op. 59 – Frédéric Chopin
Arabeske, Op. 18 – Robert Schumann
Fantasie, Op. 17 – R. Schumann
I wanted to like this better than I did. Alas, that was not the case. First off, this was the first Midday Masterpieces of the new season. And Ms. Liu played well. Just … oddly. As some of you may know, I do not write reviews—I write my reactions to the free and low cost concerts I attend. Ms. Liu’s performance demeanor straddles both lines. She is a very sensitive pianist. Before beginning a piece, she … calms herself … prepares herself … and then begins. That actually carries over into her playing.
The first Chopin mazurka was gentle and almost dainty to begin with, though it did build in volume and intensity. The minor key made it seem almost maudlin, at times. The second was more cheerful. But also had a mix of delicate paired with a bit of bombast. The third, also in a minor key, was full of fire and energy. Was there a fourth? Was it just a coda to the third mazurka? I need to explore. OK, Op. 59 only has three mazurkas. The pause … before the end of the piece … confused me.
Schumann’s Arabeske began with feathery, rippling writing. There was a contrasting section with a touch of sadness that was perhaps more moody than sad, followed by a brief martial section that then seemed to segue into the Fantasie. There appeared to be a very slow introduction, followed by a section that was very powerful. Still, there were sections that were, at times, delicate and rippling at others. I did not understand how they were connected. My notes actually say that the playing (not the piece) was somewhat segmented, almost to the point of feeling scattered. I wondered to myself whether this was a series of scenes. (Nothing that I could find in quick researching.) I know you’ll find this hard to believe (not) but a PHONE rang during a very quiet section of the piece (and, yes, there was an announcement from the stage before the concert). Overall, and mostly because of the playing style, I did not get a sense of the piece as a whole.
Ms. Liu is talented but didn’t present a firm, cohesive program. Sorry for veering into review-dom.
ConcertMeister
Mazurkas, Op. 59 – Frédéric Chopin
Arabeske, Op. 18 – Robert Schumann
Fantasie, Op. 17 – R. Schumann
I wanted to like this better than I did. Alas, that was not the case. First off, this was the first Midday Masterpieces of the new season. And Ms. Liu played well. Just … oddly. As some of you may know, I do not write reviews—I write my reactions to the free and low cost concerts I attend. Ms. Liu’s performance demeanor straddles both lines. She is a very sensitive pianist. Before beginning a piece, she … calms herself … prepares herself … and then begins. That actually carries over into her playing.
The first Chopin mazurka was gentle and almost dainty to begin with, though it did build in volume and intensity. The minor key made it seem almost maudlin, at times. The second was more cheerful. But also had a mix of delicate paired with a bit of bombast. The third, also in a minor key, was full of fire and energy. Was there a fourth? Was it just a coda to the third mazurka? I need to explore. OK, Op. 59 only has three mazurkas. The pause … before the end of the piece … confused me.
Schumann’s Arabeske began with feathery, rippling writing. There was a contrasting section with a touch of sadness that was perhaps more moody than sad, followed by a brief martial section that then seemed to segue into the Fantasie. There appeared to be a very slow introduction, followed by a section that was very powerful. Still, there were sections that were, at times, delicate and rippling at others. I did not understand how they were connected. My notes actually say that the playing (not the piece) was somewhat segmented, almost to the point of feeling scattered. I wondered to myself whether this was a series of scenes. (Nothing that I could find in quick researching.) I know you’ll find this hard to believe (not) but a PHONE rang during a very quiet section of the piece (and, yes, there was an announcement from the stage before the concert). Overall, and mostly because of the playing style, I did not get a sense of the piece as a whole.
Ms. Liu is talented but didn’t present a firm, cohesive program. Sorry for veering into review-dom.
ConcertMeister
Monday, September 30, 2019
Across a Crowded Room (9/28/19)
New twenty-minute musicals
Honoring Harold Prince
Here’s the premise. All of the writers took part in a summer internship at the Lincoln Center Library for the Performing Arts. They were randomly put together, I think by choosing one another, but that was not clearly stated; I may be remembering that from a previous iteration. Hence, across a crowded room.
OK, I saw eight twenty-minute musicals over a span of six hours (including a break for lunch). Each musical had a composer, lyricist, and librettist (sometimes overlapping), so you’re not getting lots of names. Casts ranged from two to eight (with doubling, of course), so you’re not getting a lot of names. I will name all eight musicals (search if you want to). And each musical got approximately ten minutes of live feedback from actual working theater professionals, including some pretty big names (Gerard Alessandrini, Michael John LaChiusa, and Alfred Uhry). I particularly liked that they were not reviews—they were comments on reactions to the works themselves. (Almost ConcertMeister-ish, eh?)
Taking Off (with a reference to Company, since the characters included three flight attendant (plus one who was brought into service as a last-minute replacement). Takeaway: The sky’s the limit, but there’s no limit to the sky. It was less sappy than it looks in print. The piece was very funny, especially in its use of props as gags.
Dybbuk of the Opera (with a reference to Phantom).
This one didn’t quite do it for me. In fact, most of the comments after the fact kept referring to ‘potential’. Not quite the kiss of death, but …
They’re Still Here (A Companion to Follies) needs no real introduction. My notes (which were pretty much backed up by the responses from the panel) included that it was pretty good but lacked a bit of distinction and clarity.
A Life Wide Open was a little scattered. It had hints of Gothic intrigue, and ‘eyes wide open’ featured in the lyrics and the plot. In a slightly heavy handed way, maybe a reference to A Little Night Music?
After the lunch break, we began with The Eyes of Vienna. Apparently it was an homage to Hal Prince’s Paradise Found (a reference lost on me). The two-hander was quirky, at best.
Derailed followed. Hello, Hal Prince’s On the Twentieth Century! This one had the largest cast (eight) playing the largest number of roles (twelve), and featured a real Opening Number!, a cappella barbershop harmonies, and a perfect play on words. Our heroine was on a train that suddenly had no conductor. The only way they could keep going was if someone could keep fueling the locomotive. Our heroine could! Her father taught her everything he knew. Yes, he was … the coal porter! (Ba-DUM-bum-ching!) This was easily the most fully developed of all eight musicals on the program, even if some of the shtick was predictable. Hey, it was funny shtick!
Musical Theatre Will Save the World (and other blatant lies). This one was a little too trite and a little too canned for me. By the time we got to the musical within a musical within a musical, I was over it. I think there may have been one more (too many).
It’s Got to Be Grocer, It’s Green – A Less Bloody Tale of Sweeney Todd. Nancy and Tom sell Beet Pies. Not too many. They develop a new vegan mixture that seems to sell pretty well. Nancy’s beau’s mom is a butcher and is kind of pissed off that Bobby is hanging out with Nancy. Nancy and Tom’s pies take off—especially after Mrs. Lovett’s pie shop is raided. This was a one joke concept, relatively static, that ran its course yet still spun it out pretty well.
A note on the performances—they were all incredibly good. Obviously I had favorites and less than favorites. But there were so many performers that naming them all would mean nothing to you. That said, I must single one out. Alison J. Freeman performed in six of the eight shows. Oh, and she wrote the lyrics and part of the book for one of them as well. Kudos to a well-rounded theater artiste.
ConcertMeister
Honoring Harold Prince
Here’s the premise. All of the writers took part in a summer internship at the Lincoln Center Library for the Performing Arts. They were randomly put together, I think by choosing one another, but that was not clearly stated; I may be remembering that from a previous iteration. Hence, across a crowded room.
OK, I saw eight twenty-minute musicals over a span of six hours (including a break for lunch). Each musical had a composer, lyricist, and librettist (sometimes overlapping), so you’re not getting lots of names. Casts ranged from two to eight (with doubling, of course), so you’re not getting a lot of names. I will name all eight musicals (search if you want to). And each musical got approximately ten minutes of live feedback from actual working theater professionals, including some pretty big names (Gerard Alessandrini, Michael John LaChiusa, and Alfred Uhry). I particularly liked that they were not reviews—they were comments on reactions to the works themselves. (Almost ConcertMeister-ish, eh?)
Taking Off (with a reference to Company, since the characters included three flight attendant (plus one who was brought into service as a last-minute replacement). Takeaway: The sky’s the limit, but there’s no limit to the sky. It was less sappy than it looks in print. The piece was very funny, especially in its use of props as gags.
Dybbuk of the Opera (with a reference to Phantom).
This one didn’t quite do it for me. In fact, most of the comments after the fact kept referring to ‘potential’. Not quite the kiss of death, but …
They’re Still Here (A Companion to Follies) needs no real introduction. My notes (which were pretty much backed up by the responses from the panel) included that it was pretty good but lacked a bit of distinction and clarity.
A Life Wide Open was a little scattered. It had hints of Gothic intrigue, and ‘eyes wide open’ featured in the lyrics and the plot. In a slightly heavy handed way, maybe a reference to A Little Night Music?
After the lunch break, we began with The Eyes of Vienna. Apparently it was an homage to Hal Prince’s Paradise Found (a reference lost on me). The two-hander was quirky, at best.
Derailed followed. Hello, Hal Prince’s On the Twentieth Century! This one had the largest cast (eight) playing the largest number of roles (twelve), and featured a real Opening Number!, a cappella barbershop harmonies, and a perfect play on words. Our heroine was on a train that suddenly had no conductor. The only way they could keep going was if someone could keep fueling the locomotive. Our heroine could! Her father taught her everything he knew. Yes, he was … the coal porter! (Ba-DUM-bum-ching!) This was easily the most fully developed of all eight musicals on the program, even if some of the shtick was predictable. Hey, it was funny shtick!
Musical Theatre Will Save the World (and other blatant lies). This one was a little too trite and a little too canned for me. By the time we got to the musical within a musical within a musical, I was over it. I think there may have been one more (too many).
It’s Got to Be Grocer, It’s Green – A Less Bloody Tale of Sweeney Todd. Nancy and Tom sell Beet Pies. Not too many. They develop a new vegan mixture that seems to sell pretty well. Nancy’s beau’s mom is a butcher and is kind of pissed off that Bobby is hanging out with Nancy. Nancy and Tom’s pies take off—especially after Mrs. Lovett’s pie shop is raided. This was a one joke concept, relatively static, that ran its course yet still spun it out pretty well.
A note on the performances—they were all incredibly good. Obviously I had favorites and less than favorites. But there were so many performers that naming them all would mean nothing to you. That said, I must single one out. Alison J. Freeman performed in six of the eight shows. Oh, and she wrote the lyrics and part of the book for one of them as well. Kudos to a well-rounded theater artiste.
ConcertMeister
Friday, September 27, 2019
Pace Inaugural Concert (9/25/19)
Music by huh?, John Cage, Julius Epstein, and Philip Glass. Played by huh? (There was no printed program.)
OK, I'm back from internet searches. (I should not be working this hard.)
Pauline Oliveros’s Tuning Meditation (1971); John Cage’s In a Landscape (1948), Julius Eastman’s rarely heard Piano 2 (1986); and Philip Glass’s Dreaming Awake (2007). Curated and performed by pianist Pedja Muzijevic.
The first work was a non-starter for me. Ms. Oliveros wrote instructions for people to breathe in and then make a sound on their exhale. The instructions then exhorted the exhalers to increase the listening area of their ears while continuing to exhale/make sounds. It sort of fell flat.
On to the 'real' music, to my ears. The John Cage piece was gently rippling—a wash of sound, often with the sustained pedal on the piano being used. I was reminded of Erik Satie but it was definitely a new voice. There was a nice range of volume while maintaining the gentle quality.
The first movement of the Epstein was much more modern. While being rhythmic and borderline harsh at times, it was also interesting if a bit wandering. The second movement was more rangy on the keyboard, and included more explosive moments than we heard in the first movement. The third movement had repetitive rhythmic phrases—sort of like avant-garde meets Chopsticks. It also meandered and I just didn't get the point.
The Philip Glass piece definitely had his repetitive phrases but they were much more varied than I've experienced listening to this composer. It was actually tuneful at times, with a wistful quality. Indeed, as I was leaving the venue I heard one woman ask her companion, "Was that actually Philip Glass? It didn't sound like his stuff." I agree.
The pieces were performed in a gallery space where Fred Wilson's Chandeliers was on display. It sort of all fit together—the music was at times ethereal and the chandeliers on display were gently dispersing their lights. The concrete artist was on site for the event.
Interestingly, prosecco was available to the guests before the concert began. This was very similar to the Movado Hour at the Baryshnikov Arts Center a few years back. Mr. Muzijevic is associated with the Baryshnikov Arts Center. Curious.
ConcertMeister
OK, I'm back from internet searches. (I should not be working this hard.)
Pauline Oliveros’s Tuning Meditation (1971); John Cage’s In a Landscape (1948), Julius Eastman’s rarely heard Piano 2 (1986); and Philip Glass’s Dreaming Awake (2007). Curated and performed by pianist Pedja Muzijevic.
The first work was a non-starter for me. Ms. Oliveros wrote instructions for people to breathe in and then make a sound on their exhale. The instructions then exhorted the exhalers to increase the listening area of their ears while continuing to exhale/make sounds. It sort of fell flat.
On to the 'real' music, to my ears. The John Cage piece was gently rippling—a wash of sound, often with the sustained pedal on the piano being used. I was reminded of Erik Satie but it was definitely a new voice. There was a nice range of volume while maintaining the gentle quality.
The first movement of the Epstein was much more modern. While being rhythmic and borderline harsh at times, it was also interesting if a bit wandering. The second movement was more rangy on the keyboard, and included more explosive moments than we heard in the first movement. The third movement had repetitive rhythmic phrases—sort of like avant-garde meets Chopsticks. It also meandered and I just didn't get the point.
The Philip Glass piece definitely had his repetitive phrases but they were much more varied than I've experienced listening to this composer. It was actually tuneful at times, with a wistful quality. Indeed, as I was leaving the venue I heard one woman ask her companion, "Was that actually Philip Glass? It didn't sound like his stuff." I agree.
The pieces were performed in a gallery space where Fred Wilson's Chandeliers was on display. It sort of all fit together—the music was at times ethereal and the chandeliers on display were gently dispersing their lights. The concrete artist was on site for the event.
Interestingly, prosecco was available to the guests before the concert began. This was very similar to the Movado Hour at the Baryshnikov Arts Center a few years back. Mr. Muzijevic is associated with the Baryshnikov Arts Center. Curious.
ConcertMeister
Wednesday, September 25, 2019
National Jazz Museum in Harlem (9/21/19)
I went there on Smithsonian Magazine’s Free Museum Day. While I enjoyed it, I was a little surprised at its modest size. It’s on the ground floor of a building on West 129th Street and was like a regular apartment gussied up as a museum. On exhibition was a nice grouping of items and interactive stations all dealing with Duke Ellington. His white baby grand was there (no touching allowed) and there was also a pianola—player piano—on display (no touching). One wall had big blowups of some of his sheet music.
One case had tickets to a rent party, something that was very popular in the 1920s, ’30s, and beyond. They were usually referred to as Social Parties or Whist Parties, but the funds generated helped folks make their rent. There were also printed programs from select concerts, a trumpet (I forget whose) and a tenor saxophone (I forget whose, but he was known for playing with a really big, powerful sound). I especially liked the group photo of fifty-plus jazz musicians, taken outside of a building on West 126th Street. It was mostly men, but Mary Lou Williams and Marian McPartland were included; I have, and enjoy, CDs by both of these pianistic ladies. In doing some online research for this post, I learned that there was a documentary film made—A Great Day in Harlem—based on this photo.
As far as interactive went, there were headphones available to watch and listen to videos as well as a test version of a keyboard that you could play, as if you were sitting in on a jam session. There were three choices: easy, medium, and hard. I have a strong feeling that even easy would be beyond my skill set, so I didn’t even bother trying.
All of it was interesting, but I ended up spending only a little more than thirty minutes there. I heard someone ask what museum admission is on a non-free day. A suggested $10.00 donation. I’m glad I went when I did. I wanted something slightly off the beaten track and I got just that. Would I heartily recommend it? I don’t think so. Maybe a mild recommendation.
MuseumMeister
I went there on Smithsonian Magazine’s Free Museum Day. While I enjoyed it, I was a little surprised at its modest size. It’s on the ground floor of a building on West 129th Street and was like a regular apartment gussied up as a museum. On exhibition was a nice grouping of items and interactive stations all dealing with Duke Ellington. His white baby grand was there (no touching allowed) and there was also a pianola—player piano—on display (no touching). One wall had big blowups of some of his sheet music.
One case had tickets to a rent party, something that was very popular in the 1920s, ’30s, and beyond. They were usually referred to as Social Parties or Whist Parties, but the funds generated helped folks make their rent. There were also printed programs from select concerts, a trumpet (I forget whose) and a tenor saxophone (I forget whose, but he was known for playing with a really big, powerful sound). I especially liked the group photo of fifty-plus jazz musicians, taken outside of a building on West 126th Street. It was mostly men, but Mary Lou Williams and Marian McPartland were included; I have, and enjoy, CDs by both of these pianistic ladies. In doing some online research for this post, I learned that there was a documentary film made—A Great Day in Harlem—based on this photo.
As far as interactive went, there were headphones available to watch and listen to videos as well as a test version of a keyboard that you could play, as if you were sitting in on a jam session. There were three choices: easy, medium, and hard. I have a strong feeling that even easy would be beyond my skill set, so I didn’t even bother trying.
All of it was interesting, but I ended up spending only a little more than thirty minutes there. I heard someone ask what museum admission is on a non-free day. A suggested $10.00 donation. I’m glad I went when I did. I wanted something slightly off the beaten track and I got just that. Would I heartily recommend it? I don’t think so. Maybe a mild recommendation.
MuseumMeister
Sunday, September 22, 2019
Wonder Women of the Silents (9/14/19)
This was the opening salvo for this season’s The Silent Clowns Film Series. The features were 1920’s Cinderella Cinders and 1927’s It. Cinderella Cinders starred Alice Howell while It starred the It Girl, Clara Bow. I liked Alice Howell better.
With her mop of wiry hair and her quirky (not-quite-Chaplin-esque) walk, Alice presents as a very funny comedienne. As a cook in a diner, she had really funny bits serving soup assembly line style. When one diner’s beard slopped into the soup, she pulled it out. The next time it did, she cut it off. Funny stuff. And her flipping of flapjacks also made for some zany visuals.
After being fired, however, she found herself in the union hall when a request came in for one cook at a fancy mansion—cue the requisite chase scene. Cindy got the job and then had to assume the role of bunco artist Countess de Bunco. After much (hic!) tippling and the arrival of the real, faux Countess de Bunco, all worked out well for Cindy in the end. Funny, funny stuff.
It, starring Clara Bow, is a classic example of a lower class shop girl setting her sights on her upper class boss. Bolts of cloth wend their way through the department store where she works and he is the boss. Identities are flipped among the shop girls for comic purposes from time to time. Throughout it all, there was heavy emphasis on the It factor—who has It and who doesn’t. Apparently the Clara Bow character (and Clara, herself) had It. I didn’t see It. Perhaps the ‘perfect flapper’ has lost some appeal some 90+ years later?
In the end, Clara got her beau, after slapstick comedy involving yachting and people falling overboard. It didn’t do It for me. For the record, It was based on a story by Elinor Glyn who had such a following in the late 1920s that she made an appearance in the film, as herself. This also didn’t do It for me.
ConcertMeister
With her mop of wiry hair and her quirky (not-quite-Chaplin-esque) walk, Alice presents as a very funny comedienne. As a cook in a diner, she had really funny bits serving soup assembly line style. When one diner’s beard slopped into the soup, she pulled it out. The next time it did, she cut it off. Funny stuff. And her flipping of flapjacks also made for some zany visuals.
After being fired, however, she found herself in the union hall when a request came in for one cook at a fancy mansion—cue the requisite chase scene. Cindy got the job and then had to assume the role of bunco artist Countess de Bunco. After much (hic!) tippling and the arrival of the real, faux Countess de Bunco, all worked out well for Cindy in the end. Funny, funny stuff.
It, starring Clara Bow, is a classic example of a lower class shop girl setting her sights on her upper class boss. Bolts of cloth wend their way through the department store where she works and he is the boss. Identities are flipped among the shop girls for comic purposes from time to time. Throughout it all, there was heavy emphasis on the It factor—who has It and who doesn’t. Apparently the Clara Bow character (and Clara, herself) had It. I didn’t see It. Perhaps the ‘perfect flapper’ has lost some appeal some 90+ years later?
In the end, Clara got her beau, after slapstick comedy involving yachting and people falling overboard. It didn’t do It for me. For the record, It was based on a story by Elinor Glyn who had such a following in the late 1920s that she made an appearance in the film, as herself. This also didn’t do It for me.
ConcertMeister
Saturday, September 14, 2019
Sirius Quartet (9/7/19)
Beside the Point – Fung Chern Hwei
Knives Out – Radiohead (arr. – Gregor Huebner)
Cavatina – Stanley Myers (arr. – F. C. Hwei)
New World, Nov. 9, 2016 – G. Huebner
#STILL – G. Huebner
To A New Day – F. C. Hwei
More Than We Are – Jeremy Harman
This was the season finale of the Rite of Summer Music Festival, held on Governors Island each summer. The quartet consisted of Fung Chern Hwei, violin; Gregor Huebner, violin; ___, viola; and Jeremy Harman, cello. That’s right, the violist’s name appears nowhere in the printed program. OK, back from an internet search—Ron Lawrence, viola. One of the things I learned about the quartet is that they have a bit of an in-your-face political agenda to their programming. More about that later.
Beside the Point was OK, if a little bit avant-garde. The backstory is that the violinist had cut his finger and couldn’t play his instrument for a while. Instead, he set out to compose a piece that, for him, dealt with many other things that are essentially beside the point. At least that’s my understanding of his explanation.
Knives Out had many repetitive phrases with an almost country twang. Not being a Radiohead fan, I did not recognize the tune. Cavatina began with solo viola that was backed up by the other three players. With the melody shifting to first violin and then second violin, the piece was gentle and moving. This was easily my favorite piece on the program. The song/tune was also used in (or written for?) the film The Deer Hunter. I did not recognize it, either. Thanks again, internet. The song was written for a different movie, The Walking Stick. I had no idea.
New World, Nov. 9, 2016 was overtly political. The piece references a well-known theme from DvoÅ™ak’s New World Symphony. You might recognize it if I called it Goin’ Home. Mr. Huebner’s work was filled with political anger as a response to the results of the 2016 election. While interesting enough, for me it went on far too long. But it did win a composition contest sponsored by the New York Philharmonic.
#STILL was a meandering New-Age-y piece that was inspired by the poem and song Strange Fruit. To A New Day was written to honor the new Malaysian government that many worked hard to get voted in. It was modern but pretty listenable and sounded as though it might have incorporated folk tunes.
More Than We Are closed out the concert with lots of bold, full-sounding phrases that were sort of like blocks of sound. Once again, interesting if a little too long.
One thing about the Rite of Summer concerts is that the 1:00pm performance is repeated at 3:00pm. So far, I haven’t felt compelled to attend any of the second performances.
I wore my Rite of Summer t-shirt to all four concerts this season, and I’ll most likely be going back next year for their 10th season.
ConcertMeister
Knives Out – Radiohead (arr. – Gregor Huebner)
Cavatina – Stanley Myers (arr. – F. C. Hwei)
New World, Nov. 9, 2016 – G. Huebner
#STILL – G. Huebner
To A New Day – F. C. Hwei
More Than We Are – Jeremy Harman
This was the season finale of the Rite of Summer Music Festival, held on Governors Island each summer. The quartet consisted of Fung Chern Hwei, violin; Gregor Huebner, violin; ___, viola; and Jeremy Harman, cello. That’s right, the violist’s name appears nowhere in the printed program. OK, back from an internet search—Ron Lawrence, viola. One of the things I learned about the quartet is that they have a bit of an in-your-face political agenda to their programming. More about that later.
Beside the Point was OK, if a little bit avant-garde. The backstory is that the violinist had cut his finger and couldn’t play his instrument for a while. Instead, he set out to compose a piece that, for him, dealt with many other things that are essentially beside the point. At least that’s my understanding of his explanation.
Knives Out had many repetitive phrases with an almost country twang. Not being a Radiohead fan, I did not recognize the tune. Cavatina began with solo viola that was backed up by the other three players. With the melody shifting to first violin and then second violin, the piece was gentle and moving. This was easily my favorite piece on the program. The song/tune was also used in (or written for?) the film The Deer Hunter. I did not recognize it, either. Thanks again, internet. The song was written for a different movie, The Walking Stick. I had no idea.
New World, Nov. 9, 2016 was overtly political. The piece references a well-known theme from DvoÅ™ak’s New World Symphony. You might recognize it if I called it Goin’ Home. Mr. Huebner’s work was filled with political anger as a response to the results of the 2016 election. While interesting enough, for me it went on far too long. But it did win a composition contest sponsored by the New York Philharmonic.
#STILL was a meandering New-Age-y piece that was inspired by the poem and song Strange Fruit. To A New Day was written to honor the new Malaysian government that many worked hard to get voted in. It was modern but pretty listenable and sounded as though it might have incorporated folk tunes.
More Than We Are closed out the concert with lots of bold, full-sounding phrases that were sort of like blocks of sound. Once again, interesting if a little too long.
One thing about the Rite of Summer concerts is that the 1:00pm performance is repeated at 3:00pm. So far, I haven’t felt compelled to attend any of the second performances.
I wore my Rite of Summer t-shirt to all four concerts this season, and I’ll most likely be going back next year for their 10th season.
ConcertMeister
Tuesday, September 3, 2019
remembrance (8/31/19)
This was presented/performed by Linked Dance Theatre as an interactive theatre presentation. Not my favorite but, hey, it was free. Since it’s interactive, I don’t want to give too much away, in case you want to go to Governors Island later in September, which I highly recommend.
Margaret: Cindy Rosenthal, Maya Gonzalez, Rita McCann; Frances, Florence, Carolyn: Kellyn Thornburg; Tyler, Young Tyler, Paul: Jordan Chlackpecka. Friends & Family: The Audience (aye, there’s the rub)—yes, we were part of the performance.
Yep, Margaret (whose birthday we were ostensibly celebrating) couldn’t remember who we were. Bless our hearts, we played along—posed for a photo, applauded a birthday cake, signed a card, blew up balloons, read from a kiddie Peter Pan book (me), and interacted a lot—‘only go through the open door’ …
It was interesting, and I played along. I wish I could tell you how it ended. I was asked to gather my things and exit at one point. (I’m not quite sure why—I was not drunk at the party.) Another person came out after I did. She was also not convinced as to why. No one else came out for at least 20 minutes more.
I wish I knew how it ended. But I will not be going back to find out. I could be thrown out earlier!
ConcertMeister
Margaret: Cindy Rosenthal, Maya Gonzalez, Rita McCann; Frances, Florence, Carolyn: Kellyn Thornburg; Tyler, Young Tyler, Paul: Jordan Chlackpecka. Friends & Family: The Audience (aye, there’s the rub)—yes, we were part of the performance.
Yep, Margaret (whose birthday we were ostensibly celebrating) couldn’t remember who we were. Bless our hearts, we played along—posed for a photo, applauded a birthday cake, signed a card, blew up balloons, read from a kiddie Peter Pan book (me), and interacted a lot—‘only go through the open door’ …
It was interesting, and I played along. I wish I could tell you how it ended. I was asked to gather my things and exit at one point. (I’m not quite sure why—I was not drunk at the party.) Another person came out after I did. She was also not convinced as to why. No one else came out for at least 20 minutes more.
I wish I knew how it ended. But I will not be going back to find out. I could be thrown out earlier!
ConcertMeister
Saturday, August 24, 2019
Orpheus Chamber Orchestra (8/6/19)
Pasión; A Concert of Spanish and South American Music
La Oración del torero, for string orchestra, Op. 34 (1925) –
Joaquin Turina (1882–1949)
Zarabanda lejana y villancio (1930) – Joaquin Rodrigo (1901–1999)
Tangodromo 1 for bandoneon and strings (2016) – Juan Pablo Jofre –
(b. 1983)
Adiós Nonino, for bandoneon and strings (1959) – Astor Piazzolla
(1921–1992)
Bachianas Brasilieras No. 9 for string orchestra (1945) – Heitor Villa-Lobos (1887–1959)
Chasqui and Coqueteos from Leyendas: An Andean Walkabout (2001) – Gabriela Lena Frank – (b. 1972)
Estampas Nocturnas (1923) – La Noche; En tiempo del rey sol; Arrulladora; Scherzo de Puck – Manuel Ponce (1882–1948)
JP Jofre, bandoneon
The first piece was sort of a mood piece, that was reflective and sweepingly Romantic, though modern in style, in a pleasant way.
The Zarabanda opened with viola and cello that were then joined by all of the strings. This was also in a relatively gentle mood. It was pretty, but I didn’t get a feeling that a statement was being made—unless that was the statement. The second part of the piece was more like a dance, though still rather subdued. It had nice contrasting sections via volume changes (both louder and fuller) and overall, it reminded me of a folk tune, in its style.
The third piece was much more modern, with driving rhythms that also included a sweeping feeling at times. It had quite an abrupt ending. For those of you wondering, a bandoneon is a cousin to the accordion. Señor Jofre played it well here, as in the next piece, too. The fourth piece began with solo violin, then solo viola. It was subdued but quickly became much louder, fuller, and rhythmic, leading into a bandoneon solo. Señor Jofre made his instrument sound almost like a small theater organ. A bandoneon, cello, and plucked bass trio followed before all of the strings joined in for the finish. In an odd twist, an encore, Universe (by Señor Jofre), was played. It was slightly New-Age-y—not quite Philip Glass but almost. I say odd twist because I’m not used to an encore in the middle of a concert. It made sense, though, since the bandoneon was not used at all in the second half.
The Villa-Lobos also started in a subdued manner and then moved into a Bach-like fugal section that used Latin rhythms. It seemed as though there were separate movements, but they were not quite clearly defined.
The sixth piece was very modern, rhythmically, but had throwbacks to less modern techniques. It was somewhat playful and relatively easy to listen to.
The first movement of the final piece began in the lower strings, quickly joined by all of the others. It reminded me of a sultry night, but only slightly. It had rich, full harmonies and then a certain gentleness. It did go on a bit long, though. The second was a bit more upbeat and playful, with a few swooping phrases. The third movement was gentle and sedate, almost sad—actually more of a sense of sweet yearning. The final movement had a bright tempo and a real sense of fun without going overboard. It was a really pleasant ride.
A note about the bandoneon pieces. Señor Jofre composed the first and arranged the Piazzolla piece. He also composed the encore. Alas, this was the last concert of the season for the Naumburg Orchestral Concerts. I haven’t checked out Central Park lately, but perhaps next season’s concerts will be outdoors at the bandshell. Time will tell.
ConcertMeister
La Oración del torero, for string orchestra, Op. 34 (1925) –
Joaquin Turina (1882–1949)
Zarabanda lejana y villancio (1930) – Joaquin Rodrigo (1901–1999)
Tangodromo 1 for bandoneon and strings (2016) – Juan Pablo Jofre –
(b. 1983)
Adiós Nonino, for bandoneon and strings (1959) – Astor Piazzolla
(1921–1992)
Bachianas Brasilieras No. 9 for string orchestra (1945) – Heitor Villa-Lobos (1887–1959)
Chasqui and Coqueteos from Leyendas: An Andean Walkabout (2001) – Gabriela Lena Frank – (b. 1972)
Estampas Nocturnas (1923) – La Noche; En tiempo del rey sol; Arrulladora; Scherzo de Puck – Manuel Ponce (1882–1948)
JP Jofre, bandoneon
The first piece was sort of a mood piece, that was reflective and sweepingly Romantic, though modern in style, in a pleasant way.
The Zarabanda opened with viola and cello that were then joined by all of the strings. This was also in a relatively gentle mood. It was pretty, but I didn’t get a feeling that a statement was being made—unless that was the statement. The second part of the piece was more like a dance, though still rather subdued. It had nice contrasting sections via volume changes (both louder and fuller) and overall, it reminded me of a folk tune, in its style.
The third piece was much more modern, with driving rhythms that also included a sweeping feeling at times. It had quite an abrupt ending. For those of you wondering, a bandoneon is a cousin to the accordion. Señor Jofre played it well here, as in the next piece, too. The fourth piece began with solo violin, then solo viola. It was subdued but quickly became much louder, fuller, and rhythmic, leading into a bandoneon solo. Señor Jofre made his instrument sound almost like a small theater organ. A bandoneon, cello, and plucked bass trio followed before all of the strings joined in for the finish. In an odd twist, an encore, Universe (by Señor Jofre), was played. It was slightly New-Age-y—not quite Philip Glass but almost. I say odd twist because I’m not used to an encore in the middle of a concert. It made sense, though, since the bandoneon was not used at all in the second half.
The Villa-Lobos also started in a subdued manner and then moved into a Bach-like fugal section that used Latin rhythms. It seemed as though there were separate movements, but they were not quite clearly defined.
The sixth piece was very modern, rhythmically, but had throwbacks to less modern techniques. It was somewhat playful and relatively easy to listen to.
The first movement of the final piece began in the lower strings, quickly joined by all of the others. It reminded me of a sultry night, but only slightly. It had rich, full harmonies and then a certain gentleness. It did go on a bit long, though. The second was a bit more upbeat and playful, with a few swooping phrases. The third movement was gentle and sedate, almost sad—actually more of a sense of sweet yearning. The final movement had a bright tempo and a real sense of fun without going overboard. It was a really pleasant ride.
A note about the bandoneon pieces. Señor Jofre composed the first and arranged the Piazzolla piece. He also composed the encore. Alas, this was the last concert of the season for the Naumburg Orchestral Concerts. I haven’t checked out Central Park lately, but perhaps next season’s concerts will be outdoors at the bandshell. Time will tell.
ConcertMeister
Wednesday, August 21, 2019
Orchestra of St. Luke’s (7/30/19)
Tito Muñoz, Conductor
Prince of Clouds (2012) – Jesse Mills and Krista Bannion, violins –
Anna Clyne (1980–)
Songs (1930s and ’40s) – Jasmine Muhammad, soprano – Florence Price (1887–1953)
Adagio for Strings (1936) – Samuel Barber (1910–1981)
Appalachian Spring (1933–34) – Aaron Copland (1900–1990)
The first piece was strings only, with two violin soloists. It started with the soloists, with music that was atonal but gentle and not particularly harsh. When the other strings joined in, it was rapid and louder, though there were balancing legato sections. The piece held my interest well enough though it didn’t really wow me. At one point the string players used extreme pizzicato that resulted in a ‘thwack’ sound. I have no idea what that might look like in the score.
The three Price songs were titled (I think—they weren’t listed in the program) Hold Fast to Dreams, Sympathy, and My Soul Is Anchored to the Lord. The first was in a through-composed art song style and was enjoyable. The second was traditionally classical, with a straightforward setting of the text. There were contrasting verses that then ended with a return to the original setting. The third, a spiritual, had strong Latin-style rhythms. Throughout, Ms. Muhammad sang with very clear diction and a strong sense of style for all three songs.
The Barber (a middle movement of one of his string quartets) is a piece that you most likely know. Do a quick online search and you’ll know exactly what I mean. It was lush but in a simple way. I think that’s all that needs to be said.
Copland’s Appalachian Spring did not start out as Appalachian Spring. When first composed, it was simply called Ballet for Martha. Here, flute, clarinet, bassoon, and piano were added to the strings. With its almost mystical opening, it then morphed into a more energetic section, followed by a mix of boisterous and lyrical, and then, of course, Simple Gifts put in a guest appearance, as it does in so many of Copland’s pieces (’Tis the gift to be simple / ’Tis the gift to be free / ’Tis the gift to come down / Where you ought be). But the words were not in the ballet score, just inside my head.
As one more in the Naumburg Orchestral Concerts series, this was another winner. World-class orchestras in NYC for free. I’m one lucky ’Meister.
ConcertMeister
Prince of Clouds (2012) – Jesse Mills and Krista Bannion, violins –
Anna Clyne (1980–)
Songs (1930s and ’40s) – Jasmine Muhammad, soprano – Florence Price (1887–1953)
Adagio for Strings (1936) – Samuel Barber (1910–1981)
Appalachian Spring (1933–34) – Aaron Copland (1900–1990)
The first piece was strings only, with two violin soloists. It started with the soloists, with music that was atonal but gentle and not particularly harsh. When the other strings joined in, it was rapid and louder, though there were balancing legato sections. The piece held my interest well enough though it didn’t really wow me. At one point the string players used extreme pizzicato that resulted in a ‘thwack’ sound. I have no idea what that might look like in the score.
The three Price songs were titled (I think—they weren’t listed in the program) Hold Fast to Dreams, Sympathy, and My Soul Is Anchored to the Lord. The first was in a through-composed art song style and was enjoyable. The second was traditionally classical, with a straightforward setting of the text. There were contrasting verses that then ended with a return to the original setting. The third, a spiritual, had strong Latin-style rhythms. Throughout, Ms. Muhammad sang with very clear diction and a strong sense of style for all three songs.
The Barber (a middle movement of one of his string quartets) is a piece that you most likely know. Do a quick online search and you’ll know exactly what I mean. It was lush but in a simple way. I think that’s all that needs to be said.
Copland’s Appalachian Spring did not start out as Appalachian Spring. When first composed, it was simply called Ballet for Martha. Here, flute, clarinet, bassoon, and piano were added to the strings. With its almost mystical opening, it then morphed into a more energetic section, followed by a mix of boisterous and lyrical, and then, of course, Simple Gifts put in a guest appearance, as it does in so many of Copland’s pieces (’Tis the gift to be simple / ’Tis the gift to be free / ’Tis the gift to come down / Where you ought be). But the words were not in the ballet score, just inside my head.
As one more in the Naumburg Orchestral Concerts series, this was another winner. World-class orchestras in NYC for free. I’m one lucky ’Meister.
ConcertMeister
Tuesday, August 6, 2019
The Venice Baroque Orchestra (7/10/19)
Yes, I’m appallingly late. (I recently lost my job. You’d think that means lots more time to post, right? You didn’t figure in depression, eh?)
Sinfonia in C Major for strings and basso continuo, from “L’Olimpiade”, RV 725 [I’m not making this up, you know] – Allegro, Andante, Allegro – Antonio Vivaldi (1678–1741)
Concerto grosso in G major, Op. 6 n.1, HWV 319 – A tempo giusto, Allegro, Adagio, Allegro, Allegro – George Frideric Handel – (1685–1759)
Concerto in G major for strings and basso continuo, Op. VII, No. 4 – Allegro, Largo, Allegro – Tomaso Albinoni (1671–1751)
… and so on, and so on, and so on, I could list them all but it wouldn’t mean a thing to most (or all) of you.
Suffice it to say that this was very well played baroque music ^^^see dates, above, by a world-class musical group. For free. In NYC. Am I lucky, or what?
In addition to the pieces listed above, there was music by Benedetto Marcello (1686–1739) and Francesco Geminiani (1687–1762).
In the first piece, all of the players were standing (except the cellists and harpsichordist). It sounded very similar to the other 500+ Vivaldi compositions I’ve heard. The second, Handel, was fuller and more refined. There was a very familiar (to me) movement followed by an attacca into an impressive finale.
The third work, by Tomaso Albinoni, was bright and pleasant, followed by a calmer section with some nice filigree from both the violin and continuo (in this case, harpsichord doubled by the cello). It then went back to brisk, but not quite off to the races.
The fourth piece, Vivaldi again, had a second movement that had an interesting opening featuring the lute and then unison/octave strings, a plaintive violin solo with a mini-cadenza, finishing with a dancelike movement in a full but almost sedate way. Even with all of that going on, it was not one of my favorites of the evening.
The first movement of the Marcello was very similar to the Vivaldi pieces, though the second movement was rather lightweight by comparison. The next real Vivaldi piece had an interesting second movement, spearheaded by solo cello. This was followed by a cello solo with lute accompaniment that was rather lengthy. The third movement also featured solo cello in a rondo style. [Strange note here; I was admonished by a concertgoer to not start my applause so quickly at the end of a work. Um, this is not my first time at the rodeo. If the audience needs a bit of prompting, I’m going to applaud. There was no conductor here, who might have given a visual cue.]
The seventh work, by Gemignani, had twelve movements. I will not even begin to name all twelve. Suffice it to say that there were interesting and varied techniques (within the constraints of the baroque era), many based on themes and variations.
The final Vivaldi piece had virtuosic soprano recorder playing, though in a very unorthodox style. The soloist was bent over; she was upright; she was playing from side to side; it was very distracting. I normally don’t critique or comment on physical performances, but this went beyond what I’ve normally seen. Am I limited in my viewing? I don’t think so. She was also a member of the string section (second violin) when she was not the soprano recorder soloist, so she was obviously a very talented musician on more than one front. Which does not surprise me.
All in all, a very interesting and successful concert performed by a world-renowned group. For free. In NYC. I’m a lucky (unemployed) guy. Let’s hope part of that changes.
ConcertMeister
Sinfonia in C Major for strings and basso continuo, from “L’Olimpiade”, RV 725 [I’m not making this up, you know] – Allegro, Andante, Allegro – Antonio Vivaldi (1678–1741)
Concerto grosso in G major, Op. 6 n.1, HWV 319 – A tempo giusto, Allegro, Adagio, Allegro, Allegro – George Frideric Handel – (1685–1759)
Concerto in G major for strings and basso continuo, Op. VII, No. 4 – Allegro, Largo, Allegro – Tomaso Albinoni (1671–1751)
… and so on, and so on, and so on, I could list them all but it wouldn’t mean a thing to most (or all) of you.
Suffice it to say that this was very well played baroque music ^^^see dates, above, by a world-class musical group. For free. In NYC. Am I lucky, or what?
In addition to the pieces listed above, there was music by Benedetto Marcello (1686–1739) and Francesco Geminiani (1687–1762).
In the first piece, all of the players were standing (except the cellists and harpsichordist). It sounded very similar to the other 500+ Vivaldi compositions I’ve heard. The second, Handel, was fuller and more refined. There was a very familiar (to me) movement followed by an attacca into an impressive finale.
The third work, by Tomaso Albinoni, was bright and pleasant, followed by a calmer section with some nice filigree from both the violin and continuo (in this case, harpsichord doubled by the cello). It then went back to brisk, but not quite off to the races.
The fourth piece, Vivaldi again, had a second movement that had an interesting opening featuring the lute and then unison/octave strings, a plaintive violin solo with a mini-cadenza, finishing with a dancelike movement in a full but almost sedate way. Even with all of that going on, it was not one of my favorites of the evening.
The first movement of the Marcello was very similar to the Vivaldi pieces, though the second movement was rather lightweight by comparison. The next real Vivaldi piece had an interesting second movement, spearheaded by solo cello. This was followed by a cello solo with lute accompaniment that was rather lengthy. The third movement also featured solo cello in a rondo style. [Strange note here; I was admonished by a concertgoer to not start my applause so quickly at the end of a work. Um, this is not my first time at the rodeo. If the audience needs a bit of prompting, I’m going to applaud. There was no conductor here, who might have given a visual cue.]
The seventh work, by Gemignani, had twelve movements. I will not even begin to name all twelve. Suffice it to say that there were interesting and varied techniques (within the constraints of the baroque era), many based on themes and variations.
The final Vivaldi piece had virtuosic soprano recorder playing, though in a very unorthodox style. The soloist was bent over; she was upright; she was playing from side to side; it was very distracting. I normally don’t critique or comment on physical performances, but this went beyond what I’ve normally seen. Am I limited in my viewing? I don’t think so. She was also a member of the string section (second violin) when she was not the soprano recorder soloist, so she was obviously a very talented musician on more than one front. Which does not surprise me.
All in all, a very interesting and successful concert performed by a world-renowned group. For free. In NYC. I’m a lucky (unemployed) guy. Let’s hope part of that changes.
ConcertMeister
Saturday, July 20, 2019
Rite of Summer (7/7/19)
Sandbox Percussion
Jonny Allen, Victor Caccese, Ian Rosenbaum, Terry Sweeney,
Haiku 2 – Andy Akiho
Interdependence (world premiere) – Brendon Randall-Myers
Dark Full Ride – Julia Wolfe
Bell Patterns – Victor Caccese
Postlude 6 – Elliot Cole
Sonata – Jonny Allen
Drumming Part 1 – Steve Reich
This is an outdoor series that takes place on Governors Island. Originally scheduled for Saturday, this concert was postponed to Sunday (oddly, as announced from the stage, their inaugural concert was totally rained out both days last year (or two ago?)). It was a concert that, alas, looked better on paper than it turned out in the ear. Don’t get me wrong, the physical artistry on display was phenomenal. The overall result, not so much.
First, all four percussionists played many instruments, sometimes within the same piece, so concrete details will be distinctly lacking. Haiku 2 featured two metallophones and a marimba. And drumstick on metal disk, wine bottle, metal coffee(?) pot, and wooden block (not claves). There was also minimal choreography, where eventually all four players circled, counterclockwise, before ending at the front of the stage with their drumsticks and bangee of choice.
Interdependence featured a singing bowl (think a larger version of running your dampened finger around the rim of your wine glass). There was also bowed metal (I think it was a cello or double bass bow scraped along a bar of the metallophone—too technical?). The piece was really New-Age-y and really, really long. The composer was in the house (actually, on the lawn), so we had had to be polite. I would have been anyway. [Note: The percussion quartet turned into a quintet with the addition of an overhead helicopter. That counts, right?]
Dark Full Ride featured a quartet of high-hat cymbals (part of a drum set). It was repetitive and redundant. Apparently Ms. Wolfe won a Pulitzer Prize for a different composition. This one was also turned into a quintet by the addition of a ferry horn.
Bell Patterns, Postlude 6, and Sonata were played as a continuous set. I think the first was played with a recorded score, but I couldn’t be sure. At any rate, I’d rate it as choreographed cacophony. Postlude 6 (as well as some of the others) had bowed vibraphone bars. If you’ve ever seen someone playing a musical saw, it’s like that but with a fixed pitch. Sonata had a tom-tom drum added and what seemed to be a guiro (a fish-shaped hollow gourd with a grooved exterior that you can scrape, as a percussion instrument). A standing cymbal was featured in Sonata.
Steve Reich. Definitely not my favorite. Original input unchanged. This piece, as described from the stage, featured phasing—drumming in unison, then one of the two drummers changing the rhythm slightly. I never heard it. There were two drummers at once (though not always the same two) – then three – then four. The piece was slightly mesmerizing (though not in a good way) and really, really long.
Will I go back to Rite of Summer? Probably. I still need to expand my horizons.
ConcertMeister
Jonny Allen, Victor Caccese, Ian Rosenbaum, Terry Sweeney,
Haiku 2 – Andy Akiho
Interdependence (world premiere) – Brendon Randall-Myers
Dark Full Ride – Julia Wolfe
Bell Patterns – Victor Caccese
Postlude 6 – Elliot Cole
Sonata – Jonny Allen
Drumming Part 1 – Steve Reich
This is an outdoor series that takes place on Governors Island. Originally scheduled for Saturday, this concert was postponed to Sunday (oddly, as announced from the stage, their inaugural concert was totally rained out both days last year (or two ago?)). It was a concert that, alas, looked better on paper than it turned out in the ear. Don’t get me wrong, the physical artistry on display was phenomenal. The overall result, not so much.
First, all four percussionists played many instruments, sometimes within the same piece, so concrete details will be distinctly lacking. Haiku 2 featured two metallophones and a marimba. And drumstick on metal disk, wine bottle, metal coffee(?) pot, and wooden block (not claves). There was also minimal choreography, where eventually all four players circled, counterclockwise, before ending at the front of the stage with their drumsticks and bangee of choice.
Interdependence featured a singing bowl (think a larger version of running your dampened finger around the rim of your wine glass). There was also bowed metal (I think it was a cello or double bass bow scraped along a bar of the metallophone—too technical?). The piece was really New-Age-y and really, really long. The composer was in the house (actually, on the lawn), so we had had to be polite. I would have been anyway. [Note: The percussion quartet turned into a quintet with the addition of an overhead helicopter. That counts, right?]
Dark Full Ride featured a quartet of high-hat cymbals (part of a drum set). It was repetitive and redundant. Apparently Ms. Wolfe won a Pulitzer Prize for a different composition. This one was also turned into a quintet by the addition of a ferry horn.
Bell Patterns, Postlude 6, and Sonata were played as a continuous set. I think the first was played with a recorded score, but I couldn’t be sure. At any rate, I’d rate it as choreographed cacophony. Postlude 6 (as well as some of the others) had bowed vibraphone bars. If you’ve ever seen someone playing a musical saw, it’s like that but with a fixed pitch. Sonata had a tom-tom drum added and what seemed to be a guiro (a fish-shaped hollow gourd with a grooved exterior that you can scrape, as a percussion instrument). A standing cymbal was featured in Sonata.
Steve Reich. Definitely not my favorite. Original input unchanged. This piece, as described from the stage, featured phasing—drumming in unison, then one of the two drummers changing the rhythm slightly. I never heard it. There were two drummers at once (though not always the same two) – then three – then four. The piece was slightly mesmerizing (though not in a good way) and really, really long.
Will I go back to Rite of Summer? Probably. I still need to expand my horizons.
ConcertMeister
Friday, July 5, 2019
Fifty Shades of Jonée (6/24/19)
If the cover of the program can be believed, this was the farewell Gay Pride performance of drag queen pianist extraordinaire, Jacqueline Jonée. She was joined by the JouJou Jacquettes Philharmonic Orchestra—Violin, Viola, Cello, Flutes, Clarinet, and French Horn—as well as two backup singers. There was no printed program of what we would hear, so my notes are just my best guesses.
As has often happened in past performances, Ms. Jonée made her entrance from the back of the house, this year carrying a huge bouquet of balloons, including a gold ‘5’ and a gold ‘0’, in honor of the 50th anniversary of the Stonewall uprising. The performance kicked off with A Little Mozart (Mostly), Rondo alla Turca, which is actually the third and final movement of Mozart’s Piano Sonata No. 11. In Ms. Jonée’s nimble fingers, it was also alla Jazz, alla Honky-Tonk, and alla Boogie-Woogie, with a little bit of Für Elise thrown in for good measure. A most pleasant way to start off.
Along the way, there were costume changes and wig changes all of which were quite stunning. Other compositions announced from the stage included Duke Ellington’s Jubilee Stomp, When You Wish upon a Star, and Bei Mir Bist du Schön, with those backup boys.
The next set featured individual Jacquettes with Ms. Jonée in several songs. Clair de Lune had violin and piano while a very dramatic version of What Makes a Man a Man? featured viola and piano. Piano and flute gave us a Gymnopédie, and the backup boys were back for Your Buddy Misses You (one of Ms. Jonée’s hallmark pieces that I’ve heard, and enjoyed, several times).
Another set piece that I’ve heard before is the medley/mashup of America/Not While I’m Around/There’s a Place for Us/Somewhere, which was as effective as always. A Gershwin medley included The Man I Love, Rhapsody in Blue, Fascinatin’ Rhythm, S’Wonderful, and Strike Up the Band. Rousing stuff.
While not really a downer, the evening ended with strong performances of I Did It My Way, Non, Je Ne Regrette Rien, and I’ll Be Seeing You. Alas, we may not be seeing Ms. Jonée next year (???) at Pride Week but she most certainly did this one her way!
A lovely Nocturne was a quite fitting encore.
ConcertMeister
As has often happened in past performances, Ms. Jonée made her entrance from the back of the house, this year carrying a huge bouquet of balloons, including a gold ‘5’ and a gold ‘0’, in honor of the 50th anniversary of the Stonewall uprising. The performance kicked off with A Little Mozart (Mostly), Rondo alla Turca, which is actually the third and final movement of Mozart’s Piano Sonata No. 11. In Ms. Jonée’s nimble fingers, it was also alla Jazz, alla Honky-Tonk, and alla Boogie-Woogie, with a little bit of Für Elise thrown in for good measure. A most pleasant way to start off.
Along the way, there were costume changes and wig changes all of which were quite stunning. Other compositions announced from the stage included Duke Ellington’s Jubilee Stomp, When You Wish upon a Star, and Bei Mir Bist du Schön, with those backup boys.
The next set featured individual Jacquettes with Ms. Jonée in several songs. Clair de Lune had violin and piano while a very dramatic version of What Makes a Man a Man? featured viola and piano. Piano and flute gave us a Gymnopédie, and the backup boys were back for Your Buddy Misses You (one of Ms. Jonée’s hallmark pieces that I’ve heard, and enjoyed, several times).
Another set piece that I’ve heard before is the medley/mashup of America/Not While I’m Around/There’s a Place for Us/Somewhere, which was as effective as always. A Gershwin medley included The Man I Love, Rhapsody in Blue, Fascinatin’ Rhythm, S’Wonderful, and Strike Up the Band. Rousing stuff.
While not really a downer, the evening ended with strong performances of I Did It My Way, Non, Je Ne Regrette Rien, and I’ll Be Seeing You. Alas, we may not be seeing Ms. Jonée next year (???) at Pride Week but she most certainly did this one her way!
A lovely Nocturne was a quite fitting encore.
ConcertMeister
Friday, June 28, 2019
Naumburg Orchestral Concerts (6/18/19)
The Knights – Colin & Eric Jacobsen, Artistic Directors; Eric Jacobsen, Conductor
What is the Grass? – Colin Jacobsen (1978–); Kristina Nicole Miller, Narrator
Lachrymae, Op. 48a (1950, orch. 1976) – Benjamin Britten (1913–1976); Nicholas Cords, Viola
Letters from God – Eric Jacobsen (1982–), arr. Kyle Sanna/C. Jacobsen; Ms. Miller, Narrator
Immense have been the Preparations – Kyle Sanna (1975–), arr. C. Jacobsen; Ms. Miller, Narrator
Fictional Migration (Solo Flute and Horn with strings) – Lisa Bielawa (1968–), (World Premiere Arr.); Alex Sopp, Flute; Michael Atkinson, Horn
String Octet, Op. 20 (1825) – I. Allegro moderato ma con fuoco (E-flat major); II. Andante (C minor); III. Scherzo: Allegro leggierissimo (G minor); IV. Presto (E-flat major) – Felix Mendelssohn (1809–1847)
New season (114th!), different venue. The Naumburg Bandshell is undergoing renovations this summer, so the concert series is being performed indoors at Temple Emanu-El. The good news is that there will be no rainouts this season. The not-so-good news is that the spirit and camaraderie (and eating & drinking!) that takes place in the outdoor venue cannot really be re-created indoors.
As can be seen from the birth dates of the composers, the first half of the concert was more modern than the second. What is Grass? had the aforementioned narration with interesting music as a background. The spare, open scoring reminded me of Copland, and the end of the piece segued directly into Lachrymae, which was richer and fuller. The viola was featured but was not overpowering. A note about the particular viola played by Mr. Cords—it is a 400-year-old Amati instrument on loan to him, and has a beautiful, rich tone. There was a second variation in which the viola sang out a little more followed by a pizzicato variation that also included some smoother, legato lines. The piece had a darker and more dramatic section contrasted with a calmer and almost sweet section, ending with a spikier section that went on a bit too long for me.
Similar to the first two pieces, the three that followed also dovetailed together in one relatively large section. Letters from God had what seemed to be a vamp and repeated rhythmic snippets of phrases, while Immense have been the Preparations had a sung narration and a humming chorus of instrumentalists. It was chant like, but modern chant with hints of modern gospel. Fictional Migration began with solo narration followed by solo piccolo, imitating fictitious bird calls. Then strings were added and finally the horn was added. At one point the piccolo was switched out for the flute, and the piece had slightly chaotic background sounds. I thought the piece was okay but it did not really make a strong statement for me.
After intermission the eight players came out for the Mendelssohn. They played standing (the four violins and two violas), though the two cellists sat. The first movement was gentle and pleasant yet with a slight effervescence thrown into the mix. It was bright and fun while also being a bit serious, too. The second was more sedate, but touches of drama showed up as well. The third movement was brisk, with some typically Mendelssohnian spirit, and it somehow glided right into the final movement, which was also spirited though it seemed to go on a bit too long. I wanted to like the piece a little more than I actually did. But that’s only a minor quibble, and the entire concert was a great kickoff to the 114th season. And the rest of the season looks pretty darn good as well.
ConcertMeister
What is the Grass? – Colin Jacobsen (1978–); Kristina Nicole Miller, Narrator
Lachrymae, Op. 48a (1950, orch. 1976) – Benjamin Britten (1913–1976); Nicholas Cords, Viola
Letters from God – Eric Jacobsen (1982–), arr. Kyle Sanna/C. Jacobsen; Ms. Miller, Narrator
Immense have been the Preparations – Kyle Sanna (1975–), arr. C. Jacobsen; Ms. Miller, Narrator
Fictional Migration (Solo Flute and Horn with strings) – Lisa Bielawa (1968–), (World Premiere Arr.); Alex Sopp, Flute; Michael Atkinson, Horn
String Octet, Op. 20 (1825) – I. Allegro moderato ma con fuoco (E-flat major); II. Andante (C minor); III. Scherzo: Allegro leggierissimo (G minor); IV. Presto (E-flat major) – Felix Mendelssohn (1809–1847)
New season (114th!), different venue. The Naumburg Bandshell is undergoing renovations this summer, so the concert series is being performed indoors at Temple Emanu-El. The good news is that there will be no rainouts this season. The not-so-good news is that the spirit and camaraderie (and eating & drinking!) that takes place in the outdoor venue cannot really be re-created indoors.
As can be seen from the birth dates of the composers, the first half of the concert was more modern than the second. What is Grass? had the aforementioned narration with interesting music as a background. The spare, open scoring reminded me of Copland, and the end of the piece segued directly into Lachrymae, which was richer and fuller. The viola was featured but was not overpowering. A note about the particular viola played by Mr. Cords—it is a 400-year-old Amati instrument on loan to him, and has a beautiful, rich tone. There was a second variation in which the viola sang out a little more followed by a pizzicato variation that also included some smoother, legato lines. The piece had a darker and more dramatic section contrasted with a calmer and almost sweet section, ending with a spikier section that went on a bit too long for me.
Similar to the first two pieces, the three that followed also dovetailed together in one relatively large section. Letters from God had what seemed to be a vamp and repeated rhythmic snippets of phrases, while Immense have been the Preparations had a sung narration and a humming chorus of instrumentalists. It was chant like, but modern chant with hints of modern gospel. Fictional Migration began with solo narration followed by solo piccolo, imitating fictitious bird calls. Then strings were added and finally the horn was added. At one point the piccolo was switched out for the flute, and the piece had slightly chaotic background sounds. I thought the piece was okay but it did not really make a strong statement for me.
After intermission the eight players came out for the Mendelssohn. They played standing (the four violins and two violas), though the two cellists sat. The first movement was gentle and pleasant yet with a slight effervescence thrown into the mix. It was bright and fun while also being a bit serious, too. The second was more sedate, but touches of drama showed up as well. The third movement was brisk, with some typically Mendelssohnian spirit, and it somehow glided right into the final movement, which was also spirited though it seemed to go on a bit too long. I wanted to like the piece a little more than I actually did. But that’s only a minor quibble, and the entire concert was a great kickoff to the 114th season. And the rest of the season looks pretty darn good as well.
ConcertMeister
Tuesday, June 25, 2019
Charles Jones, Piano (6/15/19)
Partita No. 5 in G Major – J.S. Bach (1685–1750)
Sonata No. 1, Op. 22 – Allegro marcato; Presto misterioso; Adagio molto appassianato; Ruvido ed ostinato – Ginastera (1916–1983)
Carnaval, Op. 9 – Schumann (1810–1856)
Mr. Jones played the Bach from the score, assisted by a page turner. If memory serves, I think it’s the only time I’ve seen him play from a score. The piece is a Praembulum followed by six movements named for dances. My free-form notes include: Bright and fun; a dance, but a little subdued; quite brisk, with odd repeats in the middle; another gentle dance; a rather disjointed minuet, also with odd internal repeats; a little more rhythmic and complicated; and sharp and crisp, fully rounding out the piece.
The two pieces that followed were played from memory. The Ginastera (first name, Alberto, in case you’re interested) had a first movement that was brash and rhythmic, rangy on the keyboard, and clangorous at times, though I didn’t mind that. The second was quieter but still with plenty of movement, and very interesting to hear. The third movement opened with only the left hand being used and then an explosion from the right hand, and was quite intriguing. The final movement was very rhythmic and brisk, drawing the listener in by the sheer energy involved. I think it was my favorite piece on the program.
Carnaval. I’ve heard the work once before and didn’t quite understand it. [Note: This, from a 10/3/17 CM post: Carnaval is a collection of 20 small vignettes designed to pay tribute to Schumann’s family and friends. This did not translate too well for me. I don’t know what the movements were named.] This time around, the twenty movements were listed but I will not recount them by name here. Also as a result of the piece being twenty brief movements, my notes are in a free-form style again. Strong chords to open, with a somewhat martial tune; a little dark, mystical; more explosive and brighter [PHONE!]; sweet waltz, though not cloying; calmer; energetic, with a few touches of calmer contrast; brighter and chirpy; a transition piece, shifting the mood; frantic butterflies? (indeed, I was right; in reading about the piece after the fact, I learned that Schumann quoted one of his own works, Papillons); almost frenetic; movements blurring together. A word about that blurring together—since these were brief movements, it was sometimes hard to know whether some of the movements were elided together. Also, Mr. Jones has a sort of quirk where he pauses between movements and blots his face and forehead with a handkerchief. It’s not really annoying, but you never know when it might happen. Adding to some of my confusion is that the nineteenth movement is called Pause, but I didn’t know whether it was an actual movement or a directive to pause (it was an actual movement). From a technique standpoint, the work is challenging and it was very well played (as it was on 10/3/17). But I still don’t quite get it. Maybe someday I will.
ConcertMeister
Sonata No. 1, Op. 22 – Allegro marcato; Presto misterioso; Adagio molto appassianato; Ruvido ed ostinato – Ginastera (1916–1983)
Carnaval, Op. 9 – Schumann (1810–1856)
Mr. Jones played the Bach from the score, assisted by a page turner. If memory serves, I think it’s the only time I’ve seen him play from a score. The piece is a Praembulum followed by six movements named for dances. My free-form notes include: Bright and fun; a dance, but a little subdued; quite brisk, with odd repeats in the middle; another gentle dance; a rather disjointed minuet, also with odd internal repeats; a little more rhythmic and complicated; and sharp and crisp, fully rounding out the piece.
The two pieces that followed were played from memory. The Ginastera (first name, Alberto, in case you’re interested) had a first movement that was brash and rhythmic, rangy on the keyboard, and clangorous at times, though I didn’t mind that. The second was quieter but still with plenty of movement, and very interesting to hear. The third movement opened with only the left hand being used and then an explosion from the right hand, and was quite intriguing. The final movement was very rhythmic and brisk, drawing the listener in by the sheer energy involved. I think it was my favorite piece on the program.
Carnaval. I’ve heard the work once before and didn’t quite understand it. [Note: This, from a 10/3/17 CM post: Carnaval is a collection of 20 small vignettes designed to pay tribute to Schumann’s family and friends. This did not translate too well for me. I don’t know what the movements were named.] This time around, the twenty movements were listed but I will not recount them by name here. Also as a result of the piece being twenty brief movements, my notes are in a free-form style again. Strong chords to open, with a somewhat martial tune; a little dark, mystical; more explosive and brighter [PHONE!]; sweet waltz, though not cloying; calmer; energetic, with a few touches of calmer contrast; brighter and chirpy; a transition piece, shifting the mood; frantic butterflies? (indeed, I was right; in reading about the piece after the fact, I learned that Schumann quoted one of his own works, Papillons); almost frenetic; movements blurring together. A word about that blurring together—since these were brief movements, it was sometimes hard to know whether some of the movements were elided together. Also, Mr. Jones has a sort of quirk where he pauses between movements and blots his face and forehead with a handkerchief. It’s not really annoying, but you never know when it might happen. Adding to some of my confusion is that the nineteenth movement is called Pause, but I didn’t know whether it was an actual movement or a directive to pause (it was an actual movement). From a technique standpoint, the work is challenging and it was very well played (as it was on 10/3/17). But I still don’t quite get it. Maybe someday I will.
ConcertMeister
Friday, June 21, 2019
The American Mime Theatre (6/13/19)
Jean Callovini Barbour, Mario Brufau, Eris Cabello, Zane Garcia, Julia Malinovskaya, Olya Mikhaylova, Ryan Molloy, Michael Whitten
American mime differs from other styles of mime. It is based on certain procedures that are studied in class and then adapted into performance pieces. It is similar to other versions in that there is no dialogue. Sounds, yes; dialogue, no. More about that later.
Music Box had three couples (one on a box) interacting as couples with movements that were similar, though not exact, for all three couples. It was set to music from a traditional music box. We saw the ritualistic offer of flowers, the ritualistic kiss, and the ritualistic rebuff. It was both humorous and fun.
Welcome – Meet the Company, led by Ms. Barbour, who is the director of the company, introduced us to the main players. Demonstration of Selected Training Methods was just that. There were twelve separate Class Procedures listed in the printed program, and this set in the performance that I saw explored Technique, Moving to Words, Characterization, and Interplay. If memory serves, one of the four included a squeak (from a shoe, I believe) and the reaction of company members to the sounds.
Hurly-Burly had three named characters: Compulsive, Boor, and Hypochondriac. Three men, posed together on an open box/cube as a set piece, interacted with each other, incorporating nose grabs, slaps, pushes, and shoves, among others. At one point (or several, actually) a hiccup was involved. They eventually lost their balance and all three were off the box. Realizing that they were sort of like fish out of water, they resumed their positions on the box, and the work concluded.
An excerpt from Dreams was set to an electronic score, and had the Dreamer, his Alter Ego, and five Figments. It was interesting to see a group piece that was not quite as limiting as the first piece with the three couples. And having an Alter Ego allowed for one character to approach the same scene in two different ways.
Six had six Strangers, used eight chairs as a set, and had props that included a paper bag (which was also a sound element) and a cloth held and manipulated by one of the characters. The six seemed to be totally insular until a few interactions began. Sound elements here were a hiccup, a cough, laughter, crying, and speaking (if it can be called that—it was sort of like a nonsense language). There were some humorous touches that included touching, blowing on someone’s hair, reactions to the laughter and the crying, and reactions to the nonsensical language. The eight chairs were needed for the six characters because some of the characters moved about, in order to avoid one another or to try to join one another.
This was totally different from any other program I’ve seen at the Library for the Performing Arts, and I am so lucky to have these varied programs so readily available. It’s fun to go exploring and to have new experiences. This one was particularly enjoyable.
ConcertMeister
American mime differs from other styles of mime. It is based on certain procedures that are studied in class and then adapted into performance pieces. It is similar to other versions in that there is no dialogue. Sounds, yes; dialogue, no. More about that later.
Music Box had three couples (one on a box) interacting as couples with movements that were similar, though not exact, for all three couples. It was set to music from a traditional music box. We saw the ritualistic offer of flowers, the ritualistic kiss, and the ritualistic rebuff. It was both humorous and fun.
Welcome – Meet the Company, led by Ms. Barbour, who is the director of the company, introduced us to the main players. Demonstration of Selected Training Methods was just that. There were twelve separate Class Procedures listed in the printed program, and this set in the performance that I saw explored Technique, Moving to Words, Characterization, and Interplay. If memory serves, one of the four included a squeak (from a shoe, I believe) and the reaction of company members to the sounds.
Hurly-Burly had three named characters: Compulsive, Boor, and Hypochondriac. Three men, posed together on an open box/cube as a set piece, interacted with each other, incorporating nose grabs, slaps, pushes, and shoves, among others. At one point (or several, actually) a hiccup was involved. They eventually lost their balance and all three were off the box. Realizing that they were sort of like fish out of water, they resumed their positions on the box, and the work concluded.
An excerpt from Dreams was set to an electronic score, and had the Dreamer, his Alter Ego, and five Figments. It was interesting to see a group piece that was not quite as limiting as the first piece with the three couples. And having an Alter Ego allowed for one character to approach the same scene in two different ways.
Six had six Strangers, used eight chairs as a set, and had props that included a paper bag (which was also a sound element) and a cloth held and manipulated by one of the characters. The six seemed to be totally insular until a few interactions began. Sound elements here were a hiccup, a cough, laughter, crying, and speaking (if it can be called that—it was sort of like a nonsense language). There were some humorous touches that included touching, blowing on someone’s hair, reactions to the laughter and the crying, and reactions to the nonsensical language. The eight chairs were needed for the six characters because some of the characters moved about, in order to avoid one another or to try to join one another.
This was totally different from any other program I’ve seen at the Library for the Performing Arts, and I am so lucky to have these varied programs so readily available. It’s fun to go exploring and to have new experiences. This one was particularly enjoyable.
ConcertMeister
Friday, June 14, 2019
Odds ’n’ Ends (5/12/19 and 5/30/19)
Sunday, May 12 found me at the Rodeph Sholom Theater Company, seeing their production of As You Like It in a musical adaptation by Shaina Taub. Clocking in with a cast of thirty-eight, the cast will not be listed here (you know who you are!). This was a community theater production like no other that I’ve seen. Minimal, but effective, sets, costumes, props, and lighting, with a quintet heavy on percussion performing the score, and sound design that included body mikes with those annoying (to me) microphones that look like little growths. But I digress. The cast of adults and children all performed well and seemed to be having a really good time to boot. Ms. Taub’s score is quite eclectic and it reminded me a great deal of her adaptation of Twelfth Night that I saw at Shakespeare in the Park last summer. This adaptation was also presented at/for Shakespeare in the Park. Maybe it was the more intimate setting in the basement of Congregation Rodeph Sholom, but I liked Like It better than Twelfth Night. Was I blown away by the performances? No. Did the production have a certain whimsical charm about it? It sure did. I enjoyed myself though I doubt I’d seek out another production of it (nor Twelfth Night for that matter).
Thursday, May 30 found me at my home away from home, Lincoln Center Library for the Performing Arts, for The Heart and Soul of the Piano, Michael Sellers, piano.
Four Sonatas: C minor, L. 352; C major, L. 104; E major, L. 23; A major, L. 395 – Domenico Scarlatti (1685–1757)
Sonata in E-flat major, Op. 81a “Les Adieux” – I. Adagio-Allegro, II. Andante espressivo, III. Vivacissimamente – Ludwig van Beethoven (1770–1827)
Valse oubliee; Funerailles – Franz Liszt (1811–1886)
Clair de lune, from Suite Bergamasque – Claude Debussy (1860–1918)
Pastourelle; Toccata – Francis Poulenc (1899–1963)
Scherzo; Waltz; Polonaise – Frederic Chopin (1810–1849)
In general, I liked the Scarlatti pieces, and one (the E major) was very familiar to me. If you do a search on it, you might find that it’s familiar to you too. Its familiarity also made it a little bit difficult for me to listen to as this performance seemed to lack a certain grace that I associate with the piece.
The Beethoven continued that sort of style of playing that did not seem to make the music come alive to me, and that carried over into the Liszt, as well. As a result, I didn’t stick around for the Debussy, Poulenc, and Chopin. I just didn’t think I’d enjoy those composers played with a lack of grace, and I wasn’t expecting that they would be any different. I’ll never know, but I trust my instinct.
Oh, well—I know going in to all of these that they might not all work out.
Speaking of live and learn, vivacissimamente was new to me. Here’s how it comes about. Vivace – lively and fast (≈140 beats per minute) --> vivacissimo – very fast and lively --> vivacissimamente – adverb of vivacissimo, ‘very quickly and lively’. Now you know!
ConcertMeister
Thursday, May 30 found me at my home away from home, Lincoln Center Library for the Performing Arts, for The Heart and Soul of the Piano, Michael Sellers, piano.
Four Sonatas: C minor, L. 352; C major, L. 104; E major, L. 23; A major, L. 395 – Domenico Scarlatti (1685–1757)
Sonata in E-flat major, Op. 81a “Les Adieux” – I. Adagio-Allegro, II. Andante espressivo, III. Vivacissimamente – Ludwig van Beethoven (1770–1827)
Valse oubliee; Funerailles – Franz Liszt (1811–1886)
Clair de lune, from Suite Bergamasque – Claude Debussy (1860–1918)
Pastourelle; Toccata – Francis Poulenc (1899–1963)
Scherzo; Waltz; Polonaise – Frederic Chopin (1810–1849)
In general, I liked the Scarlatti pieces, and one (the E major) was very familiar to me. If you do a search on it, you might find that it’s familiar to you too. Its familiarity also made it a little bit difficult for me to listen to as this performance seemed to lack a certain grace that I associate with the piece.
The Beethoven continued that sort of style of playing that did not seem to make the music come alive to me, and that carried over into the Liszt, as well. As a result, I didn’t stick around for the Debussy, Poulenc, and Chopin. I just didn’t think I’d enjoy those composers played with a lack of grace, and I wasn’t expecting that they would be any different. I’ll never know, but I trust my instinct.
Oh, well—I know going in to all of these that they might not all work out.
Speaking of live and learn, vivacissimamente was new to me. Here’s how it comes about. Vivace – lively and fast (≈140 beats per minute) --> vivacissimo – very fast and lively --> vivacissimamente – adverb of vivacissimo, ‘very quickly and lively’. Now you know!
ConcertMeister
Wednesday, June 12, 2019
The Silent Clowns Film Series (5/11/19 and 6/8/19)
Buster Keaton in Spite Marriage (1929); Koko’s Conquest (1929) (5/11/19)
Laurel & Hardy in Wrong Again (1929); Big Business (1929); Double Whopper (1929); Bacon Grabbers (1929) (6/8/19)
If you’re seeing a pattern there, you’re on the right track. The Series has a title this time around: 1929 … the Stop of the Silents. Indeed, Spite Marriage was Keaton’s final silent film and Bacon Grabbers was L&H’s final silent.
Interestingly, on the first afternoon, Koko’s Conquest was eight minutes long and Spite Marriage was eighty minutes long. Both were funny and both had the main stars tossed into the ocean—hey, if you find a funny situation, stick with it. The marriage is between Keaton’s character and the leading lady, who he has been mooning after, of a theater company. The spite comes because she is smitten with her onstage leading man and he passes her right on by for a sweeter, younger actress. So the leading lady asks Keaton to marry her. He is thrilled! She soon realizes that she is not. After many situations, trials and tribulations, she eventually realizes that the spite marriage is actually the right marriage. There were lots of funny bits throughout though I can’t remember any specific ones right now. For this particular afternoon, there was a guest pianist, Makia Matsumura, who played very well. Her style was in general smoother and more fluid than what we normally hear on these silent movie afternoons.
Wrong Again was very funny. The premise is that a millionaire has lost Blue Boy. L&H are working at a stable where they are grooming a horse named Blue Boy. When the boys learn of a $5,000 reward, they take it upon themselves to deliver the horse to the millionaire, who speaks to them from an upstairs window (where he cannot see the horse). He tells them to bring it in and put it on the piano. Stan questions this, but Ollie convinces him that the extremely wealthy see things differently than the rest of us do. The hijinks include taking the horse inside, figuring out how to get him up on the grand piano, how to keep him up on the grand piano (even after the front leg breaks off of it), a chase scene where the horse chases Stan and then, later, Ollie, the return of the painting (oh! that Blue Boy!), the millionaire finally realizing the buffoonery of L&H, and the eventual ruining of the painting. Even when you knew what was coming, it was still very funny.
The other three L&H films were also funny, but they didn’t make as strong an impression on me as Blue Boy did. Ben Model supplied the very good (and indefatigable) accompaniments to all four films. Additionally, the afternoon was bookended by Jonathan M. Smith and Bob Greenberg as “Stan and Ollie” and they were also very funny. And to think, I almost didn’t go on June eighth because it was such a nice weather day. I’m glad I did, though. The house was standing room only.
ConcertMeister
Laurel & Hardy in Wrong Again (1929); Big Business (1929); Double Whopper (1929); Bacon Grabbers (1929) (6/8/19)
If you’re seeing a pattern there, you’re on the right track. The Series has a title this time around: 1929 … the Stop of the Silents. Indeed, Spite Marriage was Keaton’s final silent film and Bacon Grabbers was L&H’s final silent.
Interestingly, on the first afternoon, Koko’s Conquest was eight minutes long and Spite Marriage was eighty minutes long. Both were funny and both had the main stars tossed into the ocean—hey, if you find a funny situation, stick with it. The marriage is between Keaton’s character and the leading lady, who he has been mooning after, of a theater company. The spite comes because she is smitten with her onstage leading man and he passes her right on by for a sweeter, younger actress. So the leading lady asks Keaton to marry her. He is thrilled! She soon realizes that she is not. After many situations, trials and tribulations, she eventually realizes that the spite marriage is actually the right marriage. There were lots of funny bits throughout though I can’t remember any specific ones right now. For this particular afternoon, there was a guest pianist, Makia Matsumura, who played very well. Her style was in general smoother and more fluid than what we normally hear on these silent movie afternoons.
Wrong Again was very funny. The premise is that a millionaire has lost Blue Boy. L&H are working at a stable where they are grooming a horse named Blue Boy. When the boys learn of a $5,000 reward, they take it upon themselves to deliver the horse to the millionaire, who speaks to them from an upstairs window (where he cannot see the horse). He tells them to bring it in and put it on the piano. Stan questions this, but Ollie convinces him that the extremely wealthy see things differently than the rest of us do. The hijinks include taking the horse inside, figuring out how to get him up on the grand piano, how to keep him up on the grand piano (even after the front leg breaks off of it), a chase scene where the horse chases Stan and then, later, Ollie, the return of the painting (oh! that Blue Boy!), the millionaire finally realizing the buffoonery of L&H, and the eventual ruining of the painting. Even when you knew what was coming, it was still very funny.
The other three L&H films were also funny, but they didn’t make as strong an impression on me as Blue Boy did. Ben Model supplied the very good (and indefatigable) accompaniments to all four films. Additionally, the afternoon was bookended by Jonathan M. Smith and Bob Greenberg as “Stan and Ollie” and they were also very funny. And to think, I almost didn’t go on June eighth because it was such a nice weather day. I’m glad I did, though. The house was standing room only.
ConcertMeister
Wednesday, June 5, 2019
Songbook (5/20/19)
Featuring the music of Wes Braver and Rachel Dean
The party’s over, it’s time to call it a season. Yes, this was the last Songbook of the current season. If it didn’t exactly go out with a bang, at least it went out with interesting writing and super performances. Don’t get me wrong, though, I thoroughly enjoyed myself. Mr. Braver and Ms. Dean write together, they each write individually, and they each write with other collaborators. Most of what we heard was from them as a duo, specifically from a musical they’re currently concentrating on, Medusa. If memory serves (alas, I can’t put my fingers on my scribbled notes from the evening of the performance), there is either a workshop or a reading or an in-development-performance-with-feedback at some point this summer.
Song titles from Medusa include Don’t Look Away, My Fate, Perseus/I See You, You Walk Woman, Sister I Wish, You Run Woman, and The Sea. The Sea seemed like a strange sort of ending for the show (if that’s what it really is), as it kind of petered out to nothingness.
One of the highlights for me was a song from Mr. Braver’s song cycle Space Cases. Apparently he collected real stories dealing with space exploration themes and then linked them together into a cycle. Laika is about a dog sent into space by the Russians. Mr. Braver caught the essence of doglike behavior in a really funny way, in a really funny song. And the gal who sang it did a bang-up job.
In fact, both writers display—how best to say this?—a good dose of quirkiness. Fortunately, it never goes overboard, however. And both can put over a song by themselves from the keyboard. There was a whole lot of talent on the stage from the two of them as well as from the dozen vocalists who volunteered their time and talents, and the four instrumentalists—piano, guitar, bass, and drums.
This was a funfest and a great way to close the book on Songbook, if only for the season. Because they’re already planning on starting up again in September. A big shout out to John Znidarsic, who is the Producer/Director of Songbook, and another big shout out to Cheryl D. Raymond, Manager Public Programs and Special Events at Lincoln Center Library for the Performing Arts. Sometimes I feel as though LPA is my home away from home—and that’s not a bad thing.
ConcertMeister
The party’s over, it’s time to call it a season. Yes, this was the last Songbook of the current season. If it didn’t exactly go out with a bang, at least it went out with interesting writing and super performances. Don’t get me wrong, though, I thoroughly enjoyed myself. Mr. Braver and Ms. Dean write together, they each write individually, and they each write with other collaborators. Most of what we heard was from them as a duo, specifically from a musical they’re currently concentrating on, Medusa. If memory serves (alas, I can’t put my fingers on my scribbled notes from the evening of the performance), there is either a workshop or a reading or an in-development-performance-with-feedback at some point this summer.
Song titles from Medusa include Don’t Look Away, My Fate, Perseus/I See You, You Walk Woman, Sister I Wish, You Run Woman, and The Sea. The Sea seemed like a strange sort of ending for the show (if that’s what it really is), as it kind of petered out to nothingness.
One of the highlights for me was a song from Mr. Braver’s song cycle Space Cases. Apparently he collected real stories dealing with space exploration themes and then linked them together into a cycle. Laika is about a dog sent into space by the Russians. Mr. Braver caught the essence of doglike behavior in a really funny way, in a really funny song. And the gal who sang it did a bang-up job.
In fact, both writers display—how best to say this?—a good dose of quirkiness. Fortunately, it never goes overboard, however. And both can put over a song by themselves from the keyboard. There was a whole lot of talent on the stage from the two of them as well as from the dozen vocalists who volunteered their time and talents, and the four instrumentalists—piano, guitar, bass, and drums.
This was a funfest and a great way to close the book on Songbook, if only for the season. Because they’re already planning on starting up again in September. A big shout out to John Znidarsic, who is the Producer/Director of Songbook, and another big shout out to Cheryl D. Raymond, Manager Public Programs and Special Events at Lincoln Center Library for the Performing Arts. Sometimes I feel as though LPA is my home away from home—and that’s not a bad thing.
ConcertMeister
Saturday, May 18, 2019
Jane’s Walks (May 4 and 5, 2019)
Saturday, May 4
9:00am – Riverside Park – 72nd Street and Riverside Drive, by the Eleanor Roosevelt statue
The tour guide for this walk was very knowledgeable, and mostly easy to hear and understand. She did use one of those personal microphones and speaker, and used it to good effect. One interesting fact right from the start was that the Eleanor Roosevelt statue was sculpted by a woman, Penelope Jenks, and that Eleanor’s sensible shoes should always be able to be seen (no plantings near or around them). When we got to the spot in the park where the West Side Highway becomes the Henry Hudson Parkway, she explained how Robert Moses used legalities and semantics to get funding (railroad tracks were covered, river access, park—all different sources of funding, and he knew how to work the system). He even managed to get funding for a boat basin during the Depression! Apparently our guide had led this tour at least once on Friday and learned the name of one of the flowers along the way, Lily of the Nile. She told us that she’s always in teacher mode, so she figured she had to share that with us on Saturday. This was a great way to start Jane’s Walks weekend for me, even if there was a bit of drizzle. Our tour group was a shade under twenty people. One of the stops along her tour was the starting point for the next walk on my schedule, so with her blessing (she told us from the start that we could leave at any time and she would not take it as an affront), I stayed at 93rd and RSD while she and the group continued uptown through the park.
11:00am – UWS Monuments and Mansions – West 93rd Street and Riverside Drive, at the Joan of Arc statue
The guide for this walk was pretty good, just not as smooth and polished as the previous one. His walk had about forty to fifty participants, which made it a little unwieldy. His comments were interesting, especially that the sculptor of Joan was a woman, Anna Vaughn Hyatt Huntington. Two female sculptors of two female subjects in one park in one day. Not too shabby. We saw a couple more statues, one freestanding mansion, and several nice examples of Art Deco architecture. Toward the end of the tour, we saw Riverside Church and the General Grant National Memorial (aka Grant’s Tomb). I’d seen and been in Grant’s Tomb, well, the building, not the tomb, before since it was my assigned volunteering station one year for Open House New York (another fun weekend that occurs in October, if I’m remembering correctly), but I realized that I’d never been inside Riverside Church before. So after the tour concluded, I took a stroll inside. It’s massive and very impressive.
2:00pm – Radical Village – Sheridan Square
This one was not on my original agenda. I decided to tweak it because the walk I’d planned ended on the Upper East Side at 3:00pm and I knew that if I was that close to home at that part of the day, it was very unlikely that I’d travel down to Chelsea for a 6:00pm walk. The guide for this walk was extremely knowledgeable and spouted out names and facts at a rather rapid pace and, at times, nonstop for a good ten to fifteen minutes. A lot of the people we heard about from him were associated with the Little Red School House at Sixth and Bleecker. Oddly, we never actually saw that site during the walk. And he breezed through so many names and the relationships that their children had with the children of other people that he had mentioned that it was almost sensory overload. The size of this walking group was more reasonable, however, at about fifteen to twenty again.
6:00pm – Gay Bars Gone – Limelight, 6th Avenue and 20th Street
OK, I’m not a club/dance bar kind of guy but I did go (at least once) to the Limelight. For my non-New York readers, this was an Episcopal church that changed hands quite a few times and at one point was a gay disco (though I’m sure straight people went as well). This was the kickoff point for a walk highlighting gay bars that are no longer in existence. There was a tag team of walk leaders and their shtick was amusing, up to a point. Oh, and the crowd for this one was huge—I’d estimate seventy to eighty. We went to a second bar site that was totally unknown to me. The third stop was Splash, which I had been to at least once, as well. Along the way, we were encouraged to contribute personal recollections. Outside of Splash, one young lady said that she and her mother had gone to Splash with her brother (moral support maybe?); she and her mother had gotten up on one of the boxes and danced together and then were asked if they were lesbian lovers (they were not, but it was a fun story). I went to one more site, but as we were leaving Chelsea and entering the Village, the narrower streets were getting harder to navigate because if the size of the group, so I bailed. But the other cool thing about the walk was that the leaders brought a stencil, and walker volunteers chalked up the sidewalk in front of each building we stopped at with Gay Bar Was Here. It made me chuckle.
Sunday, May 5
10:00am – rainout
The walk I was going to do was scheduled to meet at Columbus Circle. As I started to wend my way there, the rain was spitting just enough to make me turn around and go right back home. At least I got chores done.
1:00pm – Tour of City Center, West 55th Street
Ding-ding! This was the winner of the weekend as far as I was concerned. The walk/tour met in the lobby of City Center. Again, for my non-NY readers, do a search—the building is gorgeous inside and out. The lobby is very ornate, as is the inside of the theater. Fun fact: built in 1923, it was originally called the Mecca Temple, by the Ancient Arabic Order of the Nobles of the Mystic Shrine. Yep, it was the meeting hall of the Shriners! When we went in to the theater, we were on the mezzanine level, which gave us a good view of the orchestra level as well as the balcony level. Most of my experiences as an audience member have been from the balcony level, so I was unaware that the audience sections below are relatively shallow. That really came to the fore when we went onstage. Yes, I have now trod the boards at City Center. In fact, we saw the set of High Button Shoes close up, as its Encores production was starting the next week. The guide for the walk/tour was a City Center employee who had also been a performer there with various dance companies. As he explained it to us, for a theater that seats so many people, it was really a somewhat intimate feeling for performers because of the relative proximity of the audience, especially in the orchestra and mezzanine. We also went up to one of the dance studios that had an art installation in it. And the back wall of that studio still has the imprint of where the original throne was for the Shriners. All in all, a great tour with a leader who knew a lot and added personal touches without it being all about him.
3:00pm – Tour of Rockefeller Center – 30 Rockefeller Center, on the Plaza or indoors
Well, we met indoors because the weather was still iffy. The sound level inside 30 Rock was not very conducive to hearing a tour guide. It seemed like she had interesting things to say, if only we could hear them. Remember the first Saturday walk and the microphone that was used? That would have been helpful here. We did venture outside for a few minutes. The guide actually leaned against an outdoor sculpture on display and had to be admonished by a security guard. It was actually a little easier to hear her outside as opposed to inside. But inside we did go again, where she promptly led us to an area that was for residents only, and was admonished again. I promptly left the walk and went home.
Would I do Jane’s Walks again? Definitely. It’s always hit or miss but when you get one like the City Center tour, you know you’ve hit the jackpot. If you pair that with last year’s hands-down winner, the uptown Audubon Mural Project walk, next year, you’re guaranteed a good time, my NY peeps (weather permitting, of course). And my non-NY peeps, check out janeswalk.org; there may be walks near you next year, too.
ConcertMeister (WalkMeister, here)
9:00am – Riverside Park – 72nd Street and Riverside Drive, by the Eleanor Roosevelt statue
The tour guide for this walk was very knowledgeable, and mostly easy to hear and understand. She did use one of those personal microphones and speaker, and used it to good effect. One interesting fact right from the start was that the Eleanor Roosevelt statue was sculpted by a woman, Penelope Jenks, and that Eleanor’s sensible shoes should always be able to be seen (no plantings near or around them). When we got to the spot in the park where the West Side Highway becomes the Henry Hudson Parkway, she explained how Robert Moses used legalities and semantics to get funding (railroad tracks were covered, river access, park—all different sources of funding, and he knew how to work the system). He even managed to get funding for a boat basin during the Depression! Apparently our guide had led this tour at least once on Friday and learned the name of one of the flowers along the way, Lily of the Nile. She told us that she’s always in teacher mode, so she figured she had to share that with us on Saturday. This was a great way to start Jane’s Walks weekend for me, even if there was a bit of drizzle. Our tour group was a shade under twenty people. One of the stops along her tour was the starting point for the next walk on my schedule, so with her blessing (she told us from the start that we could leave at any time and she would not take it as an affront), I stayed at 93rd and RSD while she and the group continued uptown through the park.
11:00am – UWS Monuments and Mansions – West 93rd Street and Riverside Drive, at the Joan of Arc statue
The guide for this walk was pretty good, just not as smooth and polished as the previous one. His walk had about forty to fifty participants, which made it a little unwieldy. His comments were interesting, especially that the sculptor of Joan was a woman, Anna Vaughn Hyatt Huntington. Two female sculptors of two female subjects in one park in one day. Not too shabby. We saw a couple more statues, one freestanding mansion, and several nice examples of Art Deco architecture. Toward the end of the tour, we saw Riverside Church and the General Grant National Memorial (aka Grant’s Tomb). I’d seen and been in Grant’s Tomb, well, the building, not the tomb, before since it was my assigned volunteering station one year for Open House New York (another fun weekend that occurs in October, if I’m remembering correctly), but I realized that I’d never been inside Riverside Church before. So after the tour concluded, I took a stroll inside. It’s massive and very impressive.
2:00pm – Radical Village – Sheridan Square
This one was not on my original agenda. I decided to tweak it because the walk I’d planned ended on the Upper East Side at 3:00pm and I knew that if I was that close to home at that part of the day, it was very unlikely that I’d travel down to Chelsea for a 6:00pm walk. The guide for this walk was extremely knowledgeable and spouted out names and facts at a rather rapid pace and, at times, nonstop for a good ten to fifteen minutes. A lot of the people we heard about from him were associated with the Little Red School House at Sixth and Bleecker. Oddly, we never actually saw that site during the walk. And he breezed through so many names and the relationships that their children had with the children of other people that he had mentioned that it was almost sensory overload. The size of this walking group was more reasonable, however, at about fifteen to twenty again.
6:00pm – Gay Bars Gone – Limelight, 6th Avenue and 20th Street
OK, I’m not a club/dance bar kind of guy but I did go (at least once) to the Limelight. For my non-New York readers, this was an Episcopal church that changed hands quite a few times and at one point was a gay disco (though I’m sure straight people went as well). This was the kickoff point for a walk highlighting gay bars that are no longer in existence. There was a tag team of walk leaders and their shtick was amusing, up to a point. Oh, and the crowd for this one was huge—I’d estimate seventy to eighty. We went to a second bar site that was totally unknown to me. The third stop was Splash, which I had been to at least once, as well. Along the way, we were encouraged to contribute personal recollections. Outside of Splash, one young lady said that she and her mother had gone to Splash with her brother (moral support maybe?); she and her mother had gotten up on one of the boxes and danced together and then were asked if they were lesbian lovers (they were not, but it was a fun story). I went to one more site, but as we were leaving Chelsea and entering the Village, the narrower streets were getting harder to navigate because if the size of the group, so I bailed. But the other cool thing about the walk was that the leaders brought a stencil, and walker volunteers chalked up the sidewalk in front of each building we stopped at with Gay Bar Was Here. It made me chuckle.
Sunday, May 5
10:00am – rainout
The walk I was going to do was scheduled to meet at Columbus Circle. As I started to wend my way there, the rain was spitting just enough to make me turn around and go right back home. At least I got chores done.
1:00pm – Tour of City Center, West 55th Street
Ding-ding! This was the winner of the weekend as far as I was concerned. The walk/tour met in the lobby of City Center. Again, for my non-NY readers, do a search—the building is gorgeous inside and out. The lobby is very ornate, as is the inside of the theater. Fun fact: built in 1923, it was originally called the Mecca Temple, by the Ancient Arabic Order of the Nobles of the Mystic Shrine. Yep, it was the meeting hall of the Shriners! When we went in to the theater, we were on the mezzanine level, which gave us a good view of the orchestra level as well as the balcony level. Most of my experiences as an audience member have been from the balcony level, so I was unaware that the audience sections below are relatively shallow. That really came to the fore when we went onstage. Yes, I have now trod the boards at City Center. In fact, we saw the set of High Button Shoes close up, as its Encores production was starting the next week. The guide for the walk/tour was a City Center employee who had also been a performer there with various dance companies. As he explained it to us, for a theater that seats so many people, it was really a somewhat intimate feeling for performers because of the relative proximity of the audience, especially in the orchestra and mezzanine. We also went up to one of the dance studios that had an art installation in it. And the back wall of that studio still has the imprint of where the original throne was for the Shriners. All in all, a great tour with a leader who knew a lot and added personal touches without it being all about him.
3:00pm – Tour of Rockefeller Center – 30 Rockefeller Center, on the Plaza or indoors
Well, we met indoors because the weather was still iffy. The sound level inside 30 Rock was not very conducive to hearing a tour guide. It seemed like she had interesting things to say, if only we could hear them. Remember the first Saturday walk and the microphone that was used? That would have been helpful here. We did venture outside for a few minutes. The guide actually leaned against an outdoor sculpture on display and had to be admonished by a security guard. It was actually a little easier to hear her outside as opposed to inside. But inside we did go again, where she promptly led us to an area that was for residents only, and was admonished again. I promptly left the walk and went home.
Would I do Jane’s Walks again? Definitely. It’s always hit or miss but when you get one like the City Center tour, you know you’ve hit the jackpot. If you pair that with last year’s hands-down winner, the uptown Audubon Mural Project walk, next year, you’re guaranteed a good time, my NY peeps (weather permitting, of course). And my non-NY peeps, check out janeswalk.org; there may be walks near you next year, too.
ConcertMeister (WalkMeister, here)
Monday, May 13, 2019
Rothschild & Sons (5/2/19)
This was a concert reading of the one-act musical, presented as a commemoration of Holocaust Remembrance Day (Yom HaShoa). The show was written by Jerry Bock (composer), Sheldon Harnick (lyrics), and Sherman Yellen (book). In addition to the performance, Mr. Bock was presented with the 2019 National Jewish Theater Foundation/Holocaust Theater International Initiative Lifetime Achievement Award.
The musical has a bit of a backstory; The Rothschilds, was on Broadway in 1970 and had an Off-Broadway revival in 1990. The piece I heard was a reworking of the original, compressing it into a one-act show.
The show is essentially the story of the Rothschild banking family, and its trials and tribulations of being Jews in the traditionally non-Jewish world of high finance. The head of the family sires five sons and he educates all of them to become wheelers and dealers in the banking world. Of course, he is headstrong and some of the boys are headstrong as well, which leads to familial fireworks.
I enjoyed all of the performances in this well-presented concert version. A fully staged production of this one-act version had a recent run at the York Theatre (my old stomping grounds) and a recent run in London. This performance was directed by the director of those productions, and some of the cast were repeating their roles, too. Interestingly, the actor playing Mayer Rothschild here played the most headstrong of the five sons, Nathan, in the Off-Broadway revival. What goes around comes around sometimes. The music and lyrics were good but inevitably have to be compared to Bock and Harnick’s Fiddler on the Roof—Jewish themes, headstrong father, sort of long-suffering wife, and five children (sons here, instead of daughters). But the vocal writing in this score is also a bit more intricate. All in all, it was an enjoyable evening.
Mr. Yellen was in attendance and spoke very movingly in a tribute to Mr. Bock. And another speaker that evening had very nice things to say about Mr. Yellen. Jessica Hillman-McCord, author of Echoes of the Holocaust on the American Musical Stage, spoke briefly about the show, and had read the revised libretto. She said, “The Rothschilds intensifies its portrayal of anti-Semitism by entering into the endlessly complicated arena of insidious stereotypes regarding Jews and money. In the face of the stereotypes’ strength, the creators of The Rothschilds fought valiantly to clarify how money functions in this musical: not for greed, but for a purpose, as a weapon against oppression and hatred and a means to fight for equality. Our revered guest tonight Sherman Yellen’s updated and tightened version of his libretto makes this point strongly and movingly. I’m thrilled to have read this new version and to witness this show taking on new life. The Rothschilds’ (now Rothschild & Sons) examination of hatred and oppression is sadly all too significant today—we may only passionately hope there will come a time when Anti-Semitism and hatred of the Other will not be so immediately relevant. Until that day we promise to never forget.”
A moving evening of discussion and theater. I’m very glad to say that I am a friend of Mr. Yellen, all because of reading a book one day while I was on my way to the Library for the Performing Arts (where this concert reading took place). What goes around comes around, indeed.
ConcertMeister
The musical has a bit of a backstory; The Rothschilds, was on Broadway in 1970 and had an Off-Broadway revival in 1990. The piece I heard was a reworking of the original, compressing it into a one-act show.
The show is essentially the story of the Rothschild banking family, and its trials and tribulations of being Jews in the traditionally non-Jewish world of high finance. The head of the family sires five sons and he educates all of them to become wheelers and dealers in the banking world. Of course, he is headstrong and some of the boys are headstrong as well, which leads to familial fireworks.
I enjoyed all of the performances in this well-presented concert version. A fully staged production of this one-act version had a recent run at the York Theatre (my old stomping grounds) and a recent run in London. This performance was directed by the director of those productions, and some of the cast were repeating their roles, too. Interestingly, the actor playing Mayer Rothschild here played the most headstrong of the five sons, Nathan, in the Off-Broadway revival. What goes around comes around sometimes. The music and lyrics were good but inevitably have to be compared to Bock and Harnick’s Fiddler on the Roof—Jewish themes, headstrong father, sort of long-suffering wife, and five children (sons here, instead of daughters). But the vocal writing in this score is also a bit more intricate. All in all, it was an enjoyable evening.
Mr. Yellen was in attendance and spoke very movingly in a tribute to Mr. Bock. And another speaker that evening had very nice things to say about Mr. Yellen. Jessica Hillman-McCord, author of Echoes of the Holocaust on the American Musical Stage, spoke briefly about the show, and had read the revised libretto. She said, “The Rothschilds intensifies its portrayal of anti-Semitism by entering into the endlessly complicated arena of insidious stereotypes regarding Jews and money. In the face of the stereotypes’ strength, the creators of The Rothschilds fought valiantly to clarify how money functions in this musical: not for greed, but for a purpose, as a weapon against oppression and hatred and a means to fight for equality. Our revered guest tonight Sherman Yellen’s updated and tightened version of his libretto makes this point strongly and movingly. I’m thrilled to have read this new version and to witness this show taking on new life. The Rothschilds’ (now Rothschild & Sons) examination of hatred and oppression is sadly all too significant today—we may only passionately hope there will come a time when Anti-Semitism and hatred of the Other will not be so immediately relevant. Until that day we promise to never forget.”
A moving evening of discussion and theater. I’m very glad to say that I am a friend of Mr. Yellen, all because of reading a book one day while I was on my way to the Library for the Performing Arts (where this concert reading took place). What goes around comes around, indeed.
ConcertMeister
Wednesday, May 8, 2019
Midday Masterpieces (5/1/19)
SOOM Quintet
Wind Quintet – Paul Taffanel
Wind Quintet – John Harbison
SOOM is a quintet (flute, clarinet, bassoon, French horn, and oboe) of Juilliard students who took their name from a Korean word that, appropriately, means breath. The two pieces they played were vastly different from each other. I guessed at movements when taking my notes, as no printed program was available.
The first movement of the Taffanel was a fun march (though not really martial). It was very pleasant, with a nice mix and range of dynamics. The second was gentler and had an extended horn solo tune accompanied by the others. It reminded me of an aria. The full group then played together, though at times the clarinet and oboe had their individual moments to shine. Once again, it was pleasant without being too sweet. The third movement was brisk and had touches of playfulness, almost as if they were chasing each other or running around, just for the fun of it. There was a false ending, and then the real one with a button to cap the piece off. Written in 1878, it was the only wind quintet that Taffanel composed. Those last tidbits were announced from the stage after the piece was over.
We also heard that Harbison wrote his quintet with the express intention of exploring new techniques for the wind instruments. He succeeded. It had lots of dissonances right from the start, with disjointed phrases. It was somewhat interesting but a little hard to listen to. And it had a slightly strange ending. The movement that followed was gentler and easier to listen to though still with a lot of dissonances. And another strange ending. The third was slow and rich—I got a feeling of water though I don’t exactly know why—followed by a section that was quite harsh. The fourth movement was quick with a lot of forward motion that didn’t really hold my attention while the fifth was calmer to begin with and then forged ahead with more rhythmic quickness. Overall, I did not find the piece particularly enjoyable. The players, however, gave it their all and seemed to enjoy it. And played both quintets very well.
ConcertMeister
Wind Quintet – Paul Taffanel
Wind Quintet – John Harbison
SOOM is a quintet (flute, clarinet, bassoon, French horn, and oboe) of Juilliard students who took their name from a Korean word that, appropriately, means breath. The two pieces they played were vastly different from each other. I guessed at movements when taking my notes, as no printed program was available.
The first movement of the Taffanel was a fun march (though not really martial). It was very pleasant, with a nice mix and range of dynamics. The second was gentler and had an extended horn solo tune accompanied by the others. It reminded me of an aria. The full group then played together, though at times the clarinet and oboe had their individual moments to shine. Once again, it was pleasant without being too sweet. The third movement was brisk and had touches of playfulness, almost as if they were chasing each other or running around, just for the fun of it. There was a false ending, and then the real one with a button to cap the piece off. Written in 1878, it was the only wind quintet that Taffanel composed. Those last tidbits were announced from the stage after the piece was over.
We also heard that Harbison wrote his quintet with the express intention of exploring new techniques for the wind instruments. He succeeded. It had lots of dissonances right from the start, with disjointed phrases. It was somewhat interesting but a little hard to listen to. And it had a slightly strange ending. The movement that followed was gentler and easier to listen to though still with a lot of dissonances. And another strange ending. The third was slow and rich—I got a feeling of water though I don’t exactly know why—followed by a section that was quite harsh. The fourth movement was quick with a lot of forward motion that didn’t really hold my attention while the fifth was calmer to begin with and then forged ahead with more rhythmic quickness. Overall, I did not find the piece particularly enjoyable. The players, however, gave it their all and seemed to enjoy it. And played both quintets very well.
ConcertMeister
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