A Sing Along Show & Tell Celebrating City Center Encores!
This was a lot of fun. The host, Evan Leslie, from the Lincoln Center Library for the Performing Arts, put together a mix of sing along songs, as well as a slide show display of artifacts from the library itself. We saw snippets of Harold Prince’s papers and an ooh-inspiring rendition of the set model for the original production of Follies (1971). And then we got to sing Broadway Baby, which was loads of fun, led by Marla Louisaint.
Along the way, we also learned about and celebrated the 75th anniversary of New York’s City Center and the 25th anniversary of its Encores! series. All of the songs included in the afternoon were from shows that have had performances at Encores! The current Encores! music director, Rob Berman, was on hand to shed some light on both anniversaries. A little known song from Fiorello! (1959) followed. Led by Austin Prebula, Joseph Grosso, Hunter Coombs, Andrew O’Brien, Paul Esswein, and Daniel Lawrence, we were asked to join in on the chorus of Politics and Poker (actually, totally unknown by me).
The next couple of sing along songs were a little on the difficult side. Both were ballads and, once again, little known, to me at least. Ari Axelrod gamely led us through I Could Write a Book, from Pal Joey (1940), and Ms. Louisaint did the same for Make Someone Happy, from Do Re Mi (1960). I knew this one better than the Pal Joey song, but the ballad’s tempo made it perhaps not the best sing along song, in my opinion. From the library’s holdings of the papers of George Balanchine, we saw photos of a hand-painted (by Mr. B himself) armoire, one of which also had his cat peeking out from the armoire door. Oohs and aahs again from the appreciative audience. We also saw some slides of the Comden and Green papers from the library’s vaults.
The library also has Charles Strouse’s papers. We saw slides of parts of a script and score before singing Put on a Happy Face, from Bye Bye Birdie (1960), led by Marc Castle. This one was very well known and very popular. Another crowd pleaser was I’ll Never Fall in Love Again, from Promises, Promises (1968), led by Molly Model. Interesting side note—she is the daughter of Ben Model, who supplies the piano scores and plays them for the Silent Clowns Series, also held at LPA.
Before ending with a bang, we saw pieces from the Fred Ebb collection, also housed at the library. Garnering oohs again was a slide showing a Standard Production Contract for Liza Minnelli (Extraordinary Risk), when she replaced Gwen Verdon in Chicago (1975). After someone asked what Extraordinary Risk meant, we got the answer from an audience member. He was a concessionaire at the 46th Street Theatre (now the Richard Rodgers). Ms. Verdon was having vocal problems (possibly from some of the confetti used at the end of the show). With only a week’s rehearsal and no public announcement, Ms. Minnelli replaced her, eventually for five weeks. This guy said that when the announcement was made that first night at the theater, after first grumbling a lot the audience went wild. Thank you, Mr. Audience Member! Apparently the reason for the replacement is what caused the Extraordinary Risk notation. Mr. Cellophane was given terrific song leader support by Andrew Weinstein of the LPA, who was himself a fill-in for an indisposed performer. And we finished with Nowadays, led by all of the song leaders.
The afternoon included goofy games, tons of theater trivia, swag bags (alas, not for me), and a whole lot of fun and positive energy. I had a blast.
ConcertMeister
Monday, February 25, 2019
Tuesday, February 19, 2019
An Evening with Jonathan Dely (2/14/19)
Subtitled ‘A concert of pop, classical, jazz and romantic delights,’ it was an interesting evening. I have heard Mr. Dely, a jazz trumpeter, before and enjoyed listening to him. That was for one or two numbers at a Holiday Songbook. A full evening was a little hard for me to take. He fronted a small band of piano, drums, guitar, bass, and keyboard, and it was sort of a free flowing kind of performance.
He seemed to be grooving with the band in the opening number before even playing a note. And by grooving, I mean sort of dancing, sort of bopping, and sort of being (or trying to be) cool. A little goes a long way. And we saw a lot of it. All evening long. And I can’t tell you what the first song was since there was no printed program—see free flowing, above.
The second piece had a bluesy solo piano opening, followed by the band joining in, in a more up tempo style. In fact, it was at times almost too frantic for me. Then there was a trumpet and piano section followed by the full band and trumpet all together. A guest cellist came onstage for the next two songs. The first was announced as Gabriel’s Fire (and the cellist did not perform in that one) followed by Cinema Paradiso (in which she did play). Gabriel’s Fire was played with a muted trumpet and electric guitar, eventually joined by piano and electronic keyboard. Cinema Paradiso had an interesting effect where the electric guitar sort of mimicked the trumpet sound. Mr. Dely did tell us the cellist’s name but darned if I could make it out from his announcement. This was a problem throughout the performance—even though he was using a microphone, it was still hard to hear/understand him when he was talking while the band was playing.
In a nod to the hearts and flowers date of the gig, a jazzy rendition of My Foolish Heart followed. A guest vocalist (announced from the stage but once again I couldn’t get it) sang along with Mr. Dely’s jazz version of Pure Imagination. We then went back to romance with My Funny Valentine (played with the mute once again) in which the tune was there but he danced around it quite a bit (a fairly usual jazz tool) and then he unmuted his horn for the second go ’round of the tune.
My Favorite Things was next. I recognized the sort of Northern Africa caravan styling from when I heard him perform this piece a couple of years ago, albeit with only piano and percussion accompaniment. The full band version is a lot of fun. The guest vocalist returned for Love Too Hard (I think, once again it was difficult to hear him announce it over the band). It was definitely not my favorite.
After a very warm round of applause, Mr. Dely came back onstage for an encore. I was already at the back of the house, bundling up, but I stopped to find out what it would be. When I heard that it would be Leonard Cohen’s Hallelujah, I kept going out the door.
Having heard him before, I made it a point to attend this concert. But it was just too much for me all at once, so I’ll probably give this type of thing a pass in the future. And don’t get me wrong, he and all of the musicians were very talented and seemed to be loving what they were doing. I just wasn’t loving it as much as they were.
ConcertMeister
He seemed to be grooving with the band in the opening number before even playing a note. And by grooving, I mean sort of dancing, sort of bopping, and sort of being (or trying to be) cool. A little goes a long way. And we saw a lot of it. All evening long. And I can’t tell you what the first song was since there was no printed program—see free flowing, above.
The second piece had a bluesy solo piano opening, followed by the band joining in, in a more up tempo style. In fact, it was at times almost too frantic for me. Then there was a trumpet and piano section followed by the full band and trumpet all together. A guest cellist came onstage for the next two songs. The first was announced as Gabriel’s Fire (and the cellist did not perform in that one) followed by Cinema Paradiso (in which she did play). Gabriel’s Fire was played with a muted trumpet and electric guitar, eventually joined by piano and electronic keyboard. Cinema Paradiso had an interesting effect where the electric guitar sort of mimicked the trumpet sound. Mr. Dely did tell us the cellist’s name but darned if I could make it out from his announcement. This was a problem throughout the performance—even though he was using a microphone, it was still hard to hear/understand him when he was talking while the band was playing.
In a nod to the hearts and flowers date of the gig, a jazzy rendition of My Foolish Heart followed. A guest vocalist (announced from the stage but once again I couldn’t get it) sang along with Mr. Dely’s jazz version of Pure Imagination. We then went back to romance with My Funny Valentine (played with the mute once again) in which the tune was there but he danced around it quite a bit (a fairly usual jazz tool) and then he unmuted his horn for the second go ’round of the tune.
My Favorite Things was next. I recognized the sort of Northern Africa caravan styling from when I heard him perform this piece a couple of years ago, albeit with only piano and percussion accompaniment. The full band version is a lot of fun. The guest vocalist returned for Love Too Hard (I think, once again it was difficult to hear him announce it over the band). It was definitely not my favorite.
After a very warm round of applause, Mr. Dely came back onstage for an encore. I was already at the back of the house, bundling up, but I stopped to find out what it would be. When I heard that it would be Leonard Cohen’s Hallelujah, I kept going out the door.
Having heard him before, I made it a point to attend this concert. But it was just too much for me all at once, so I’ll probably give this type of thing a pass in the future. And don’t get me wrong, he and all of the musicians were very talented and seemed to be loving what they were doing. I just wasn’t loving it as much as they were.
ConcertMeister
Wednesday, February 13, 2019
Midday Masterpieces (2/6/19)
Sonata No. 10 in F major (1682) – Rosenmuller
Trio Sonata in F major, TWV 42:F2 from Sonates corellisantes (1735) – Telemann
Sonata in D minor for violin, viola da gamba, and continuo, Op. 1, No. 6 – Buxtehude
“Paris” Quartet in G major, TWV 43:G4 from Nouveaux quatuors en six suites (1738) – Telemann
These pieces were played by different groups of students who are in the Juilliard Historical Performance program, a two-year program that explores early music up close. One of the harpsichordists is in his second year and one is in his first year, so there’s a good mix of experience and new learning. No names were provided by WQXR (at least not in print), so no names will be included here. Early music is an acquired taste—one I happen to enjoy a great deal. (To be precise, these pieces are technically from the Baroque period.)
The Rosenmuller, a composer new to me, was played by two violins, two violas, cello, and harpsichord. It began with a sort of call and response, with the violins taking the reins, answered by the violas, before all six players joined in the fun. And there was one section where they all joined in one by one. Overall there was a mix of legato (very smooth playing) and bouncy dance-like rhythms.
The Telemann that followed was a trio sonata for baroque flute, cello, violin, and harpsichord. I know, you’re all thinking, “But ’Meister, that’s a quartet.” Yes and no. The cello plays the bass line and the harpsichord supports the bass line as well as adding support for all of the other players. So essentially, the cello and harpsichord make up one voice, the continuo, of the trio. After a calm opening, there were phrases with lots of filigree and embellishments in very quick rhythms. In all of the pieces on the program, there was a real feeling of dance rhythms. There was a more relaxed movement followed by the final movement that began slow and stately but ended up quite perky.
The Buxtehude was played by members of Ensemble 415, a different group from Juilliard, and was scored for violin, theorbo, viola da gamba, and harpsichord. A theorbo is a supersized lute, while the viola da gamba is a cousin of the cello. Both have extra strings that allow for richer sounds. The sonata began with a calm opening with interesting harmonies that then moved into a jaunty section. Both the theorbo and the harpsichord played lots of deep bass notes, seemingly just because they could. The rest of the piece bounced back and forth between very calm and furioso—extremely fast and extremely energetic—before closing out with a simpler dance rhythm.
Telemann’s Paris quartets got that moniker only in the second half of the 20th century, presumably because of Telemann’s visit to Paris in 1737–1738. The one heard here opened with a gentle triple rhythm, and even when there were brisker sections it was very elegant. The second movement was also elegant, a bit more like a dance, and included touches of whimsy. The third was gentle and bucolic, while the fourth had a bright tempo to begin with, with hints of dark drama, and had a graceful dance in the middle. The final movement was brisk and fun, and we all got fooled by a false ending—a grand flourish that then had a quieter section to really finish.
It was a great hour of performances, and the audience greedily ate it up. It was also a lot of fun to see and hear different instruments on display. I’ve already made my reservation for the next Midday Masterpieces concert.
ConcertMeister
Trio Sonata in F major, TWV 42:F2 from Sonates corellisantes (1735) – Telemann
Sonata in D minor for violin, viola da gamba, and continuo, Op. 1, No. 6 – Buxtehude
“Paris” Quartet in G major, TWV 43:G4 from Nouveaux quatuors en six suites (1738) – Telemann
These pieces were played by different groups of students who are in the Juilliard Historical Performance program, a two-year program that explores early music up close. One of the harpsichordists is in his second year and one is in his first year, so there’s a good mix of experience and new learning. No names were provided by WQXR (at least not in print), so no names will be included here. Early music is an acquired taste—one I happen to enjoy a great deal. (To be precise, these pieces are technically from the Baroque period.)
The Rosenmuller, a composer new to me, was played by two violins, two violas, cello, and harpsichord. It began with a sort of call and response, with the violins taking the reins, answered by the violas, before all six players joined in the fun. And there was one section where they all joined in one by one. Overall there was a mix of legato (very smooth playing) and bouncy dance-like rhythms.
The Telemann that followed was a trio sonata for baroque flute, cello, violin, and harpsichord. I know, you’re all thinking, “But ’Meister, that’s a quartet.” Yes and no. The cello plays the bass line and the harpsichord supports the bass line as well as adding support for all of the other players. So essentially, the cello and harpsichord make up one voice, the continuo, of the trio. After a calm opening, there were phrases with lots of filigree and embellishments in very quick rhythms. In all of the pieces on the program, there was a real feeling of dance rhythms. There was a more relaxed movement followed by the final movement that began slow and stately but ended up quite perky.
The Buxtehude was played by members of Ensemble 415, a different group from Juilliard, and was scored for violin, theorbo, viola da gamba, and harpsichord. A theorbo is a supersized lute, while the viola da gamba is a cousin of the cello. Both have extra strings that allow for richer sounds. The sonata began with a calm opening with interesting harmonies that then moved into a jaunty section. Both the theorbo and the harpsichord played lots of deep bass notes, seemingly just because they could. The rest of the piece bounced back and forth between very calm and furioso—extremely fast and extremely energetic—before closing out with a simpler dance rhythm.
Telemann’s Paris quartets got that moniker only in the second half of the 20th century, presumably because of Telemann’s visit to Paris in 1737–1738. The one heard here opened with a gentle triple rhythm, and even when there were brisker sections it was very elegant. The second movement was also elegant, a bit more like a dance, and included touches of whimsy. The third was gentle and bucolic, while the fourth had a bright tempo to begin with, with hints of dark drama, and had a graceful dance in the middle. The final movement was brisk and fun, and we all got fooled by a false ending—a grand flourish that then had a quieter section to really finish.
It was a great hour of performances, and the audience greedily ate it up. It was also a lot of fun to see and hear different instruments on display. I’ve already made my reservation for the next Midday Masterpieces concert.
ConcertMeister
Monday, February 11, 2019
Mendelssohn, with Words and Without: Sonatas and Songs (2/2/19)
Matthew Odell, piano; Patrick Jee, cello; Katherine Whyte, soprano
This was the first in a series of four concerts with this main title to be held this year at the Library for the Performing Arts. The title is a bit of a play on words, as Felix Mendelssohn wrote/published eight volumes of Songs Without Words (solo piano pieces). This concert, however, included songs with words, by Felix and a Song Without Words, by his sister, Fanny. So, a bit of a mix and match.
Auf Flügeln des Gesanges; Wanderlied; Suleika; Schilflied; Neue Liebe – Felix Mendelssohn (1809–1847)
Notturno in G minor; Song Without Words in B minor, Op. 2, No. 2 – Fanny Mendelssohn (1805–1847)
Die Liebende schreibt; Frühlingslied; Romanze; Andres Maienlied – Felix M.
Sonata in D major for cello and piano, Op. 58 – I. Allegro assai vivace; II. Allegretto scherzando; III. Adagio; IV. Molto allegro e vivace – Felix M.
In addition to the music, there were also readings of some of Felix’s letters (the LPA has some of Felix’s 7,000 letters in its archives, as well as several volumes of letters printed in book form).
But, on to the music. The first five songs were sung by Ms. Whyte, with Mr. Odell at the keyboard. The first was gentle and flowing, and strophic (in fact, all of the songs were strophic, with texts by various poets and authors). The second was joyful and brisk, with only two verses. The third, clocking in at five verses, was calmer and more serious. The fourth was a slightly melancholy waltz, with a rocking rhythm, while the fifth was perky, but dramatic, too. Ms. Whyte sang beautifully (in both sets) and Mr. Odell was a more than able supporting artist.
Fanny’s pieces were for solo piano. Notturno was slightly dark but had pretty tunes and phrases. It was mostly gentle, with touches of drama from time to time. It seemed more like parlor music than music for the concert hall. Her Song Without Words was more romantic in tone and featured the tune in the right hand and accompaniment in the left, then a reversal of those roles. The piece had constant movement without being frantic at all. Both pieces were rather lovely.
The four songs in Ms. Whyte’s second set were sweet and sincere, brisk (more so in the accompaniment) with hints of drama, calmer, but with its own drama and including more filigree in the vocal writing—trills, turns and melismas (one syllable sung on many notes), and very brisk, slightly dark and very dramatic.
The first movement of the cello/piano sonata had a big, bold opening with very interesting writing in the lowest range of the cello against a quite rapid piano accompaniment. The second was slightly impish with lots of pizzicato playing from the cello. Even when the cellist was bowing the strings, it was still brisk and fun. After a back and forth song like section and a return to the opening motifs of the movement, it had a very cute ending. The third movement had a lengthy piano solo, eventually joined by a lovely, slightly mournful tune in the cello that also had its own touches of drama before eventually winding down to the end. The final movement was very brisk and bright, though also very serious. It was enjoyable but I found myself wanting to like it just a little better than I did.
If I’m remembering correctly, the next deep dive into Mendelssohn will include a lot more chamber works. I’m glad that this concert had the mix of pieces that it did, and I look forward to the others later in the season.
ConcertMeister
This was the first in a series of four concerts with this main title to be held this year at the Library for the Performing Arts. The title is a bit of a play on words, as Felix Mendelssohn wrote/published eight volumes of Songs Without Words (solo piano pieces). This concert, however, included songs with words, by Felix and a Song Without Words, by his sister, Fanny. So, a bit of a mix and match.
Auf Flügeln des Gesanges; Wanderlied; Suleika; Schilflied; Neue Liebe – Felix Mendelssohn (1809–1847)
Notturno in G minor; Song Without Words in B minor, Op. 2, No. 2 – Fanny Mendelssohn (1805–1847)
Die Liebende schreibt; Frühlingslied; Romanze; Andres Maienlied – Felix M.
Sonata in D major for cello and piano, Op. 58 – I. Allegro assai vivace; II. Allegretto scherzando; III. Adagio; IV. Molto allegro e vivace – Felix M.
In addition to the music, there were also readings of some of Felix’s letters (the LPA has some of Felix’s 7,000 letters in its archives, as well as several volumes of letters printed in book form).
But, on to the music. The first five songs were sung by Ms. Whyte, with Mr. Odell at the keyboard. The first was gentle and flowing, and strophic (in fact, all of the songs were strophic, with texts by various poets and authors). The second was joyful and brisk, with only two verses. The third, clocking in at five verses, was calmer and more serious. The fourth was a slightly melancholy waltz, with a rocking rhythm, while the fifth was perky, but dramatic, too. Ms. Whyte sang beautifully (in both sets) and Mr. Odell was a more than able supporting artist.
Fanny’s pieces were for solo piano. Notturno was slightly dark but had pretty tunes and phrases. It was mostly gentle, with touches of drama from time to time. It seemed more like parlor music than music for the concert hall. Her Song Without Words was more romantic in tone and featured the tune in the right hand and accompaniment in the left, then a reversal of those roles. The piece had constant movement without being frantic at all. Both pieces were rather lovely.
The four songs in Ms. Whyte’s second set were sweet and sincere, brisk (more so in the accompaniment) with hints of drama, calmer, but with its own drama and including more filigree in the vocal writing—trills, turns and melismas (one syllable sung on many notes), and very brisk, slightly dark and very dramatic.
The first movement of the cello/piano sonata had a big, bold opening with very interesting writing in the lowest range of the cello against a quite rapid piano accompaniment. The second was slightly impish with lots of pizzicato playing from the cello. Even when the cellist was bowing the strings, it was still brisk and fun. After a back and forth song like section and a return to the opening motifs of the movement, it had a very cute ending. The third movement had a lengthy piano solo, eventually joined by a lovely, slightly mournful tune in the cello that also had its own touches of drama before eventually winding down to the end. The final movement was very brisk and bright, though also very serious. It was enjoyable but I found myself wanting to like it just a little better than I did.
If I’m remembering correctly, the next deep dive into Mendelssohn will include a lot more chamber works. I’m glad that this concert had the mix of pieces that it did, and I look forward to the others later in the season.
ConcertMeister
Tuesday, February 5, 2019
Songbook – Broadway’s Future (1/28/19)
Katya Stanislavskaya, composer, lyricist
The first song, Coffee Date, was from Women on Love. It was a first date song, a nice fun waltz where the woman wants to skip over the difficult parts of the date, but just can’t really. Both coffee and Women on Love were also featured later in the concert.
Five songs from Resident Alien followed, outlining the inherent problems of Jews relocating to America from Russia. The renaming was just that—dealing with the bureaucracy of name changes for easier assimilation, and the newly named not being too happy about it. A father, mother and daughter go through new changes in the new land and, indeed, the parents end up divorcing. It’s sometimes hard to follow the plot and figure out how the songs really fit in when only hearing a few of the songs. The daughter has a coming of age song, My Body Talks, that was sort of interesting but felt a little out of place to me. Maybe I’m just too far removed from the inner workings of the teenage mind. I liked the songs, though I wasn’t really bowled over.
Six songs from Going South followed, which highlighted the not so great things about North Carolina and some of its laws. Jess’s Proposal deals with the issue of same-sex marriage (two women, in this case) and the somewhat reluctant, or maybe tepid is the right word, acceptance. A pair of songs, Real and Once You’re In, You’re In, dealt with rape and its aftermath, including some very stereotypical male ideas. They were troubling but done very well.
Seven songs from Women on Love followed, including Coffee for Two and Me and My Cup—I told you they’d be making a return. Women on Love is not a musical, per se, it’s more of a catch-all for songs that don’t readily fit into other musicals and then get pulled together for concertizing. Coffee for Two was about having been alone for so long that the singer wasn’t even sure if she remembered how to make that quantity, even if the right situation presented itself. Me and My Cup celebrates the joy and serenity of having coffee alone, after having rushed off in all directions, constantly helping others (kids, husband, etc.). The time for herself, alone, actually helps preserve her love for her husband.
I especially liked Claire/Bear which was an assignment for a writing class run by composer William Finn—write a song about a dog. In this case, a woman gets a pug, Bear, to help prepare for the coming of her child, Claire. As both Bear and Claire grow up through the years, the mom sometimes likes/loves Bear better than Claire. It was pretty darn funny. And I liked the fact that it was performed here by a more mature woman, making it seem more real, for me. To Each Her Own had a pair of sisters showing off their individual skills in a bit of a battle (all in fun, of course). I also liked Morty Morgenstern, the story of a grandma in a Boca Raton nursing home who gets a new boyfriend who’s only a few years older, but they let him drive! In retrospect, maybe they shouldn’t have, but grandma still has some fun with Morty.
All in all, I liked the writing, and the lyrics were okay, even though none really caught my attention or had me jotting them down. There are going to be two workshop performances of Going South in early March that I might make an attempt to see one. We’ll see. If I do, I just might report back.
ConcertMeister
The first song, Coffee Date, was from Women on Love. It was a first date song, a nice fun waltz where the woman wants to skip over the difficult parts of the date, but just can’t really. Both coffee and Women on Love were also featured later in the concert.
Five songs from Resident Alien followed, outlining the inherent problems of Jews relocating to America from Russia. The renaming was just that—dealing with the bureaucracy of name changes for easier assimilation, and the newly named not being too happy about it. A father, mother and daughter go through new changes in the new land and, indeed, the parents end up divorcing. It’s sometimes hard to follow the plot and figure out how the songs really fit in when only hearing a few of the songs. The daughter has a coming of age song, My Body Talks, that was sort of interesting but felt a little out of place to me. Maybe I’m just too far removed from the inner workings of the teenage mind. I liked the songs, though I wasn’t really bowled over.
Six songs from Going South followed, which highlighted the not so great things about North Carolina and some of its laws. Jess’s Proposal deals with the issue of same-sex marriage (two women, in this case) and the somewhat reluctant, or maybe tepid is the right word, acceptance. A pair of songs, Real and Once You’re In, You’re In, dealt with rape and its aftermath, including some very stereotypical male ideas. They were troubling but done very well.
Seven songs from Women on Love followed, including Coffee for Two and Me and My Cup—I told you they’d be making a return. Women on Love is not a musical, per se, it’s more of a catch-all for songs that don’t readily fit into other musicals and then get pulled together for concertizing. Coffee for Two was about having been alone for so long that the singer wasn’t even sure if she remembered how to make that quantity, even if the right situation presented itself. Me and My Cup celebrates the joy and serenity of having coffee alone, after having rushed off in all directions, constantly helping others (kids, husband, etc.). The time for herself, alone, actually helps preserve her love for her husband.
I especially liked Claire/Bear which was an assignment for a writing class run by composer William Finn—write a song about a dog. In this case, a woman gets a pug, Bear, to help prepare for the coming of her child, Claire. As both Bear and Claire grow up through the years, the mom sometimes likes/loves Bear better than Claire. It was pretty darn funny. And I liked the fact that it was performed here by a more mature woman, making it seem more real, for me. To Each Her Own had a pair of sisters showing off their individual skills in a bit of a battle (all in fun, of course). I also liked Morty Morgenstern, the story of a grandma in a Boca Raton nursing home who gets a new boyfriend who’s only a few years older, but they let him drive! In retrospect, maybe they shouldn’t have, but grandma still has some fun with Morty.
All in all, I liked the writing, and the lyrics were okay, even though none really caught my attention or had me jotting them down. There are going to be two workshop performances of Going South in early March that I might make an attempt to see one. We’ll see. If I do, I just might report back.
ConcertMeister
Friday, February 1, 2019
The Orchestra Now (1/27/19)
The Enchanted Lake (1909) – Anatoly Lyadov (1855–1914)
The Firebird Suite (1909–1910; 1945) – Igor Stravinsky (1882–1971)
La Valse (1919–1920) – Maurice Ravel (1875–1937)
Pictures at an Exhibition (1874; 1922) – Modest Mussorgsky (1839–1881);
arr. Ravel
No notes were taken, so all write-ups are from memory. Lyadov is a composer whose name I know and whose music I’ve probably heard (in recordings) but this is the first time I’ve heard his music live (I think). This was a nice curtain raiser, with slightly ethereal writing for the strings. Overall, it was sort of an impressionistic wash of sound, with slight increases and decreases of volume. Very pleasant.
Stravinsky’s Firebird Suite is ten movements taken from the ballet of the same name. Some of the movements are affiliated with certain characters (Firebird, Prince Ivan Tsarevich, Khorovod, and Princesses), but that didn’t mean a lot to me, as I’ve never seen the ballet. Even with the requisite spiky rhythms and dissonances, my favorite movements were Prelude and Dance of the Firebird, Infernal Dance, Lullaby, and the Final Hymn. An interesting fact here is that while the ballet itself premiered in Paris in 1910, the Suite premiered in New York at the Metropolitan Opera House in 1945. That would have been the old Met, a building that, alas, I never had the opportunity to see (it was demolished in 1967, long before my arrival in NYC).
Rounding out the first half of the program was La Valse, which was a nonstop waltz that was at times beautiful, at times eerie, and at times slightly off kilter. As with the previous two pieces, there were lots of splashes of orchestral color. It’s not often I get to hear works that include two harps along with the strings, woodwinds, brass, and percussion. This was a lot of fun.
Pictures at an Exhibition was a delight. The setup is that Mussorgsky wrote tribute pieces based on the artwork of Viktor Hartmann. We begin with a promenade to take us to the first work of art, The Gnome. A second promenade leads us to The Old Castle, while a third promenade takes us to Tuileries and Bydto (Polish Ox-Cart). Fortunately, there was not a promenade to every piece of art. The final promenade led to the final seven pieces of art. Each piece of art had varied moods attached, which gave Ravel a chance to really shine in this orchestral arrangement of what was originally a piece for piano. Favorite movements of mine included Ballet of the Unhatched Chicks, The Marketplace at Limoges, and the finale, The Great Gate of Kiev (which, if you Google/Yahoo! it, you’ll probably recognize). The very appreciative audience applauded loudly and longly.
A word on the orchestra itself; it is described as a training orchestra. The players are all graduate students gaining experience as orchestral players. But it also goes a little further, broadening the horizons of the players and audience alike. For example, program notes for the four pieces were written by four orchestra members (one each) and each piece was introduced from the stage by four different orchestra members (one each). While all four deliveries from the stage were good, a shout out has to be given to the percussionist speaking about the Mussorgsky. He included show and tell by demonstrating the sound effect of a whip (using a slapstick—two pieces of wood that physically get slapped together) and orchestral chimes (in this case one only) used to very good effect in The Great Gate of Kiev. On the minus side, the flutist who introduced the Stravinsky repeatedly referred to it as the Suit. Granted, English was most likely not his first language, but someone should have helped him out to have it rhyme with sweet. But I quibble. Not only did all eight acquit themselves well, the entire orchestra played the heck out of all four pieces, ably conducted by Zachary Schwartzman. Well done, one and all.
ConcertMeister
The Firebird Suite (1909–1910; 1945) – Igor Stravinsky (1882–1971)
La Valse (1919–1920) – Maurice Ravel (1875–1937)
Pictures at an Exhibition (1874; 1922) – Modest Mussorgsky (1839–1881);
arr. Ravel
No notes were taken, so all write-ups are from memory. Lyadov is a composer whose name I know and whose music I’ve probably heard (in recordings) but this is the first time I’ve heard his music live (I think). This was a nice curtain raiser, with slightly ethereal writing for the strings. Overall, it was sort of an impressionistic wash of sound, with slight increases and decreases of volume. Very pleasant.
Stravinsky’s Firebird Suite is ten movements taken from the ballet of the same name. Some of the movements are affiliated with certain characters (Firebird, Prince Ivan Tsarevich, Khorovod, and Princesses), but that didn’t mean a lot to me, as I’ve never seen the ballet. Even with the requisite spiky rhythms and dissonances, my favorite movements were Prelude and Dance of the Firebird, Infernal Dance, Lullaby, and the Final Hymn. An interesting fact here is that while the ballet itself premiered in Paris in 1910, the Suite premiered in New York at the Metropolitan Opera House in 1945. That would have been the old Met, a building that, alas, I never had the opportunity to see (it was demolished in 1967, long before my arrival in NYC).
Rounding out the first half of the program was La Valse, which was a nonstop waltz that was at times beautiful, at times eerie, and at times slightly off kilter. As with the previous two pieces, there were lots of splashes of orchestral color. It’s not often I get to hear works that include two harps along with the strings, woodwinds, brass, and percussion. This was a lot of fun.
Pictures at an Exhibition was a delight. The setup is that Mussorgsky wrote tribute pieces based on the artwork of Viktor Hartmann. We begin with a promenade to take us to the first work of art, The Gnome. A second promenade leads us to The Old Castle, while a third promenade takes us to Tuileries and Bydto (Polish Ox-Cart). Fortunately, there was not a promenade to every piece of art. The final promenade led to the final seven pieces of art. Each piece of art had varied moods attached, which gave Ravel a chance to really shine in this orchestral arrangement of what was originally a piece for piano. Favorite movements of mine included Ballet of the Unhatched Chicks, The Marketplace at Limoges, and the finale, The Great Gate of Kiev (which, if you Google/Yahoo! it, you’ll probably recognize). The very appreciative audience applauded loudly and longly.
A word on the orchestra itself; it is described as a training orchestra. The players are all graduate students gaining experience as orchestral players. But it also goes a little further, broadening the horizons of the players and audience alike. For example, program notes for the four pieces were written by four orchestra members (one each) and each piece was introduced from the stage by four different orchestra members (one each). While all four deliveries from the stage were good, a shout out has to be given to the percussionist speaking about the Mussorgsky. He included show and tell by demonstrating the sound effect of a whip (using a slapstick—two pieces of wood that physically get slapped together) and orchestral chimes (in this case one only) used to very good effect in The Great Gate of Kiev. On the minus side, the flutist who introduced the Stravinsky repeatedly referred to it as the Suit. Granted, English was most likely not his first language, but someone should have helped him out to have it rhyme with sweet. But I quibble. Not only did all eight acquit themselves well, the entire orchestra played the heck out of all four pieces, ably conducted by Zachary Schwartzman. Well done, one and all.
ConcertMeister
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