Kelly Hall-Tompkins in concert
With Joshua Camp, Stephen Benson, and Michael Blanco
First off, a little backstory. Ms. Hall-Tompkins was concertmaster of the 2015 production of Fiddler on the Roof, directed by Bartlett Sher, so she was essentially the Fiddler, and it had a profound effect on her. What we saw Thursday night was a performance of a concert piece developed by Ms. Hall-Tompkins, Oran Eldor (arranger) and Ted Sperling (conductor/orchestrator). This particular performance also made use of some archival artifacts from the Lincoln Center Library for the Performing Arts’ extensive collections.
The music: Fiddler Rhapsody; Matchmaker; Miracle of Miracles; The Dream; Wedding Dance; Do You Love Me?; If I Were a Rich Man; Sabbath Prayer; Chavaleh; Anatevka; Mordcha’s Dance
The Rhapsody began with solo violin (Ms. Hall-Tompkins), joined in order by accordion (Mr. Camp), bass (Mr. Blanco), and guitar (Mr. Benson). Specifically, for the violin, it was a virtuosic rendition of some of the themes/songs from the show, akin to an overture but with more pizazz.
From the stage, Matchmaker was described as, “Fritz Kreisler meets Gene Kelly,” and that pretty much summed it up. (Fritz Kreisler was a violin virtuoso known for his explosive bursts of technique.) Miracle of Miracles was very energetic, but stylized, almost as if it were part of a nightclub or cabaret act.
The Dream captured the humor of the piece as well as a mix of a variety of voices, and it ended softly. Wedding Dance started out with an up tempo klezmer feel (Mr. Benson switched to mandolin here, for a newer, brighter color). The middle section was (as described from the stage) a slow-jam arrangement of the bottle dance segment. This was followed by a return to up tempo, almost bordering on frantic, that finished with a button ending.
There was a solo guitar introduction to Do You Love Me? before the bass entered, as Tevye, answered by the violin, as Golde. The arrangement truly captured the love, in a jazz-ballad style, and was absolutely poignant.
After listening to an audio clip from the Library’s archive (Jerry Bock riffing on the If I Were a Rich Man tune, with just nonsense syllables), Ms. Hall-Tompkins’ introduction stated that this was a concert piece, not really a song. And it was true. It was just the violinist and more Fritz Kreisler–style touches.
The Sabbath Prayer arrangement included themes from other prayer settings, in order to create a fuller piece that also incorporated the Fiddler themes. Chavaleh was both dramatic and incredibly sad, rendered beautifully here. Anatevka also captured the gravity of the situation, and also was extremely beautiful.
If I’m remembering this correctly, Mordcha’s Dance was composed by Mr. Eldor either for the 2015/2016 run of Fiddler, or for this Expanding Tradition project. Whichever is correct, it was brisk, bright, and had a feeling of hope, while also incorporating some of the other Fiddler themes. It was an apt ending to the project and this concert because, really, you can’t end with Chavaleh and Anatevka, even as beautiful as they are.
I had a terrific time hearing this wonderful work while listening to heartfelt memories from Ms. Hall Tompkins. It wasn’t exactly a sing-along, but I’m sure that a lot of folks were singing along in their heads.
ConcertMeister
Monday, April 29, 2019
Thursday, April 25, 2019
Nordic Reflections (4/20/19)
Sarah E. Geller, violin; Wenhan Anderson, piano
Sonata in A Major, K. 305 – Allegro di molto; Tema con variazioni – Andante grazioso – W. A. Mozart (1756–1791)
Romance, Op. 23 – Karol Szymanowski (1882–1937)
Sonata in G Major, Op. 13 – Lento doloroso – Allegro vivace; Allegretto tranquillo; Allegro animato – Edvard Grieg (1843–1907)
Mazurka – Commodo e con gracia (from Five Pieces, Op. 81, No. 1); Romance – Andante (from Four Pieces, Op. 78, No. 2) – Jean Sibelius (1865–1957)
Sonata in a minor, Op. 105 – Mit leidenschaftlichem Ausdruck; Allegretto; Lebhaft – Robert Schumann (1810–1856)
Introduction and Rondo Capriccioso – Camille Saint-Saëns (1835–1921)
The first movement of the Mozart had a strong opening, including nice interplay, varied volume and intensity, and more interesting ideas than I usually encounter with Mozart. Maybe I like his chamber music better than his orchestral works? The second movement was gentler, yet still full and had an extended solo piano section. To me, it was almost Bach-like in form, though still more Classical than Baroque. Some of the variations veered almost into the ‘too precious’ Mozart territory for me. And perhaps less would have been better.
The Szymanowsky was interesting, if a little offbeat. I liked it even though it didn’t quite fit into any neat category or niche. It was oddly fascinating.
The first movement of the Grieg was dramatic but not overly flashy. There were varied moods shifting back and forth, though it was hard to figure out how they worked together. It was interesting, if a little strange. The second movement began with a solo piano opening that was then followed by the violin repeating the theme and other motifs. And there were strong and effective phrases followed by shifting moods that worked pretty well together followed by a bit of a strange ending. The final movement was dance like and fun—a welcoming, weird waltz that also had a few slightly darker sections before returning to its bright and sunny ending.
The first Sibelius piece was slightly on the dark side and included some virtuosic touches, as well as some strange twists and turns that I liked. The second was like a song and was very pretty to listen to even with its lightly melancholic feel.
The beginning of the Schumann was a bit (though barely) dark yet also a bit fiery. And there were touches of sweetness, too. As I was writing that it ran a bit too long for me, it abruptly ended. The second movement was absolutely lovely from the very beginning. The middle section was energetic—almost too much so—and though it was a little disjointed, I kept liking it, especially its lovely arpeggiated ending. The last movement was very brisk, even from section to section. Even though the sections seemed not to mesh well, I nevertheless liked the music.
The Saint-Saëns began very sweetly, in an almost sad way, though also with some complexity. Next, it launched into a bravura section that started out fairly simply and then kept building. I just sat back and enjoyed it. It’s a showoff piece that, in this case, also showed the techniques that are very difficult to bring off. I think I would have liked not seeing the techniques as much as I did. But it still was a fun piece to end the concert with.
When I began writing this post, I added a note to myself to check whether I'd seen these artists before. Indeed I have, at least once. I wrote a blog post about the two of them performing together on October 31, 2015. My memory is still (somewhat) functional.
ConcertMeister
Sonata in A Major, K. 305 – Allegro di molto; Tema con variazioni – Andante grazioso – W. A. Mozart (1756–1791)
Romance, Op. 23 – Karol Szymanowski (1882–1937)
Sonata in G Major, Op. 13 – Lento doloroso – Allegro vivace; Allegretto tranquillo; Allegro animato – Edvard Grieg (1843–1907)
Mazurka – Commodo e con gracia (from Five Pieces, Op. 81, No. 1); Romance – Andante (from Four Pieces, Op. 78, No. 2) – Jean Sibelius (1865–1957)
Sonata in a minor, Op. 105 – Mit leidenschaftlichem Ausdruck; Allegretto; Lebhaft – Robert Schumann (1810–1856)
Introduction and Rondo Capriccioso – Camille Saint-Saëns (1835–1921)
The first movement of the Mozart had a strong opening, including nice interplay, varied volume and intensity, and more interesting ideas than I usually encounter with Mozart. Maybe I like his chamber music better than his orchestral works? The second movement was gentler, yet still full and had an extended solo piano section. To me, it was almost Bach-like in form, though still more Classical than Baroque. Some of the variations veered almost into the ‘too precious’ Mozart territory for me. And perhaps less would have been better.
The Szymanowsky was interesting, if a little offbeat. I liked it even though it didn’t quite fit into any neat category or niche. It was oddly fascinating.
The first movement of the Grieg was dramatic but not overly flashy. There were varied moods shifting back and forth, though it was hard to figure out how they worked together. It was interesting, if a little strange. The second movement began with a solo piano opening that was then followed by the violin repeating the theme and other motifs. And there were strong and effective phrases followed by shifting moods that worked pretty well together followed by a bit of a strange ending. The final movement was dance like and fun—a welcoming, weird waltz that also had a few slightly darker sections before returning to its bright and sunny ending.
The first Sibelius piece was slightly on the dark side and included some virtuosic touches, as well as some strange twists and turns that I liked. The second was like a song and was very pretty to listen to even with its lightly melancholic feel.
The beginning of the Schumann was a bit (though barely) dark yet also a bit fiery. And there were touches of sweetness, too. As I was writing that it ran a bit too long for me, it abruptly ended. The second movement was absolutely lovely from the very beginning. The middle section was energetic—almost too much so—and though it was a little disjointed, I kept liking it, especially its lovely arpeggiated ending. The last movement was very brisk, even from section to section. Even though the sections seemed not to mesh well, I nevertheless liked the music.
The Saint-Saëns began very sweetly, in an almost sad way, though also with some complexity. Next, it launched into a bravura section that started out fairly simply and then kept building. I just sat back and enjoyed it. It’s a showoff piece that, in this case, also showed the techniques that are very difficult to bring off. I think I would have liked not seeing the techniques as much as I did. But it still was a fun piece to end the concert with.
When I began writing this post, I added a note to myself to check whether I'd seen these artists before. Indeed I have, at least once. I wrote a blog post about the two of them performing together on October 31, 2015. My memory is still (somewhat) functional.
ConcertMeister
Tuesday, April 16, 2019
Hit or Miss Weekend (4/6–7/19)
Accordion Mixology Sing-Along (4/6/19); Devony Smith, soprano; Nikolay Verevkin, piano (4/6/19); Tartan Week Finale (4/7/19)
You know me, I enjoy a good sing-along. Saturday’s was a little on the strange side, and not just because of the accordions involved. Apparently the sing-along was the final event in a weeklong deep dive into the accordion and its history (I’m just guessing—some of that was hinted at, but I did not follow the deep dive at all). First off, the sing-along had no lyrics sheet. Part of that was likely because there was no set song list; a lot of it was sort of off the cuff. That said, not all of the songs were that familiar in terms of really knowing (as opposed to sort of knowing) the lyrics. Such was the case with Oh How I Hate to Get Up in the Morning. Shine on Harvest Moon fared a little bit better. I was more familiar with Up, Up with People, but then I was also older than many of the other audience members/singers. Some were easier to follow along with because the refrains were simple and repetitive. Not so much with Kill for Peace, however (a protest song), or We All Live in a Yellow Submarine.
There were many more songs on the table. My favorites included Bicycle Built for Two and Pop! Goes the Weasel. An interesting story accompanied Home on the Range. The song leader recounted that when he taught chorus, he had a gang that were not very good singers. He finally got them to master singing the song in unison. Determining that he needed something a little more to show for the work of his group, he had them sing it through once and then hum it while one volunteer gave a dramatic recitation of the text during the hummed version. In performance, the gal ended up giggling through her recitation—it turns out that a faculty member was making funny faces at her (they were seeing each other romantically, but the chorus teacher didn’t know that). He gave her a grade of C+ but then the other faculty member spoke with him to see whether the grade could be changed. After learning the entire story, he agreed to change the grade. He gave her an F! Be careful what you wish for. At any rate, while the sing-along had some interesting things going on, I’d give it a grade of C+.
Later that afternoon, I attended the vocal recital by Devony Smith, soprano and Nikolay Verevkin, piano
Ravel, Shéhérazade; Korngold, Drei Lieder, Op. 22; Prokofiev, Five Poems of Anna Akhmatova, Op. 27; John Harbison, Simple Daylight
While the music making was well done, there was a certain sameness to the overall selection of works, in that there were a lot of dark settings of brooding texts. Snippets of my notes include: touches of sorrow … a sense of angst … a sense of longing … a little feeling of hope, though we never quite made it to cheery. Those were followed by: almost somber … a feeling of forlorn sadness. An encore (that I’m not quite convinced was warranted) was a cabaret-style blues song. Strange choice, to my ears.
On Sunday, I decided to give a selection of Scottish music a try at an outdoor concert held at Bryant Park. I got there just as it was starting, grabbed a falafel sandwich (not Scottish, of course, but a little treat for myself once in a while) and gave a listen. Names were announced from the stage, but they meant nothing to me, and they weren’t written down, so will not be included here. The first performers were a gal playing bagpipes accompanied by a guy playing guitar. I’d never heard that combination before but it actually worked pretty well. She then sang a song accompanied by the guitar and added a flute verse as well. Quite pleasant.
Less pleasant was a Scottish guitarist who now lives in North Carolina. He sang a sort of growling, rock version of Scots Wha Hae (lyrics by Robert Burns). It was, um, growly. And rock. A second Burns song followed, called A Man’s a Man for A’ That. It sounded like a harsh rock protest song, though I don’t think it really was. The set concluded with a growly, rock version of Loch Lomond.
Next up was a group called Whiskey Kiss composed of a bagpiper, a fiddle player (I did not quite recognize the instrument), an accordionist, and a percussion box player, all accompanied by a pre-recorded back beat. While they performed their first number, a crew of Scottish(?) cheerleaders strutted their stuff.
As the performance was out of doors and the weather was not quite as warm nor pleasant as expected, I called it a day after about an hour and fifteen minutes. I’d heard enough and figured that the rest would have been very similar (although a pipe band may have been scheduled—no printed materials meant no way of knowing what was next).
Hit or miss? Alas, the weekend was more of a miss than a hit. But as always, the price was right.
ConcertMeister
Accordion Mixology Sing-Along (4/6/19); Devony Smith, soprano; Nikolay Verevkin, piano (4/6/19); Tartan Week Finale (4/7/19)
You know me, I enjoy a good sing-along. Saturday’s was a little on the strange side, and not just because of the accordions involved. Apparently the sing-along was the final event in a weeklong deep dive into the accordion and its history (I’m just guessing—some of that was hinted at, but I did not follow the deep dive at all). First off, the sing-along had no lyrics sheet. Part of that was likely because there was no set song list; a lot of it was sort of off the cuff. That said, not all of the songs were that familiar in terms of really knowing (as opposed to sort of knowing) the lyrics. Such was the case with Oh How I Hate to Get Up in the Morning. Shine on Harvest Moon fared a little bit better. I was more familiar with Up, Up with People, but then I was also older than many of the other audience members/singers. Some were easier to follow along with because the refrains were simple and repetitive. Not so much with Kill for Peace, however (a protest song), or We All Live in a Yellow Submarine.
There were many more songs on the table. My favorites included Bicycle Built for Two and Pop! Goes the Weasel. An interesting story accompanied Home on the Range. The song leader recounted that when he taught chorus, he had a gang that were not very good singers. He finally got them to master singing the song in unison. Determining that he needed something a little more to show for the work of his group, he had them sing it through once and then hum it while one volunteer gave a dramatic recitation of the text during the hummed version. In performance, the gal ended up giggling through her recitation—it turns out that a faculty member was making funny faces at her (they were seeing each other romantically, but the chorus teacher didn’t know that). He gave her a grade of C+ but then the other faculty member spoke with him to see whether the grade could be changed. After learning the entire story, he agreed to change the grade. He gave her an F! Be careful what you wish for. At any rate, while the sing-along had some interesting things going on, I’d give it a grade of C+.
Later that afternoon, I attended the vocal recital by Devony Smith, soprano and Nikolay Verevkin, piano
Ravel, Shéhérazade; Korngold, Drei Lieder, Op. 22; Prokofiev, Five Poems of Anna Akhmatova, Op. 27; John Harbison, Simple Daylight
While the music making was well done, there was a certain sameness to the overall selection of works, in that there were a lot of dark settings of brooding texts. Snippets of my notes include: touches of sorrow … a sense of angst … a sense of longing … a little feeling of hope, though we never quite made it to cheery. Those were followed by: almost somber … a feeling of forlorn sadness. An encore (that I’m not quite convinced was warranted) was a cabaret-style blues song. Strange choice, to my ears.
On Sunday, I decided to give a selection of Scottish music a try at an outdoor concert held at Bryant Park. I got there just as it was starting, grabbed a falafel sandwich (not Scottish, of course, but a little treat for myself once in a while) and gave a listen. Names were announced from the stage, but they meant nothing to me, and they weren’t written down, so will not be included here. The first performers were a gal playing bagpipes accompanied by a guy playing guitar. I’d never heard that combination before but it actually worked pretty well. She then sang a song accompanied by the guitar and added a flute verse as well. Quite pleasant.
Less pleasant was a Scottish guitarist who now lives in North Carolina. He sang a sort of growling, rock version of Scots Wha Hae (lyrics by Robert Burns). It was, um, growly. And rock. A second Burns song followed, called A Man’s a Man for A’ That. It sounded like a harsh rock protest song, though I don’t think it really was. The set concluded with a growly, rock version of Loch Lomond.
Next up was a group called Whiskey Kiss composed of a bagpiper, a fiddle player (I did not quite recognize the instrument), an accordionist, and a percussion box player, all accompanied by a pre-recorded back beat. While they performed their first number, a crew of Scottish(?) cheerleaders strutted their stuff.
As the performance was out of doors and the weather was not quite as warm nor pleasant as expected, I called it a day after about an hour and fifteen minutes. I’d heard enough and figured that the rest would have been very similar (although a pipe band may have been scheduled—no printed materials meant no way of knowing what was next).
Hit or miss? Alas, the weekend was more of a miss than a hit. But as always, the price was right.
ConcertMeister
Saturday, April 6, 2019
Juilliard School Trombone Choir (4/3/19)
Declamation – James Kazik; Parade of the Charioteers – Miklós Rózsa, arr. James Nova; Sonata Pian’ e Forte – Giovanni Gabrieli; The River Bells – Steven Verhelst; Capriol Suite – Peter Warlock; Seven Bagatelles – Frigyes Hidas; Egmont Overture – Ludwig van Beethoven
This was a blast. The trombone choir is twelve Juilliard students who study with, and are directed by, Joseph Alessi who is also principal trombonist of the New York Philharmonic. All twelve players performed in all seven pieces on the program. It’s the first concert I’ve ever gone to where they handed out earplugs in the lobby beforehand. (For the record, I did not use them though I saw others who did.)
Declamation was exactly that, and it was a thrilling, if brief, introduction to the amassed brass sound. The Parade that followed was a march that I noted was almost regal. I also wrote that it had a John Williams quality, but there I was wrong. The piece was written as part of the score for the movie Ben Hur, so I guess the Williams connotation should have been the other way around—Williams was perhaps Rózsa-esque.
Hello, Gabrieli. This was easily my favorite work of the afternoon. Gabrieli is known for his antiphonal church writing, where one choir (voices or instruments) would be in one part of the church while a second would answer from another area. There was no real space for separation on Wednesday afternoon, but the delineation of two four-voice ensembles was crystal clear. And the Forte portion of Pian’ e Forte was effected by both playing together, joined by the other four players, too. The piece made a great impact on me via its clearly defined compositional techniques.
The River Bells was very rhythmic and percolated along, with some solo callouts along the way, as well. It was energetic, in a contained way, and then switched to a calm interlude that reminded me of a folk song that was just plain beautiful before returning to the high energy feel (that went on a bit too long for me).
The six-movement Capriol Suite was familiar to me from its orchestral version, though it started life as a piano duet. The first movement had a nice Renaissance feel with antiphonal writing, while the second seemed almost like a hymn tune set against muted accompaniment (the mutes created a quasi-buzzy sound at times). The third movement was dance like both in sound and in terms of the choreography of the mutes. The fourth had a perpetual motion feel that increased in speed and then increased in speed again. The fifth was gentler—I found myself wondering if it was rooted in an actual lullaby—sweet, and even poignant, including its brief coda. The final movement was brisk and energetic and, even in its ending, almost harsh.
The Seven Bagatelles began with a fanfare and then sort of morphed through a quick movement, a gentle movement, a muted movement with slightly dissonant chords, and then a return to the rocking feel. A brisk, full movement followed that seemed to have a modern feel, or a film score feeling. A ponderous section followed that gave me the feeling of the composer saying, “Look what I can do,” though not in an entirely pleasing way. A fun waltz followed that included a few slides for an almost comic effect before returning to another fanfare to close the piece out.
The Beethoven, also familiar to me, had dramatic unison/octave writing for its beginning. Dark chords followed and then the music fully unfolded. It was a fairly effective adaptation of major orchestral writing, though at times I felt there was almost a touch of overkill. Still it allowed for the full amassed sound of twelve trombones—and they definitely made a statement. But I liked the statement of the Gabrieli better. I’m glad I got to hear it and all of the other pieces in this intriguing concert.
ConcertMeister
This was a blast. The trombone choir is twelve Juilliard students who study with, and are directed by, Joseph Alessi who is also principal trombonist of the New York Philharmonic. All twelve players performed in all seven pieces on the program. It’s the first concert I’ve ever gone to where they handed out earplugs in the lobby beforehand. (For the record, I did not use them though I saw others who did.)
Declamation was exactly that, and it was a thrilling, if brief, introduction to the amassed brass sound. The Parade that followed was a march that I noted was almost regal. I also wrote that it had a John Williams quality, but there I was wrong. The piece was written as part of the score for the movie Ben Hur, so I guess the Williams connotation should have been the other way around—Williams was perhaps Rózsa-esque.
Hello, Gabrieli. This was easily my favorite work of the afternoon. Gabrieli is known for his antiphonal church writing, where one choir (voices or instruments) would be in one part of the church while a second would answer from another area. There was no real space for separation on Wednesday afternoon, but the delineation of two four-voice ensembles was crystal clear. And the Forte portion of Pian’ e Forte was effected by both playing together, joined by the other four players, too. The piece made a great impact on me via its clearly defined compositional techniques.
The River Bells was very rhythmic and percolated along, with some solo callouts along the way, as well. It was energetic, in a contained way, and then switched to a calm interlude that reminded me of a folk song that was just plain beautiful before returning to the high energy feel (that went on a bit too long for me).
The six-movement Capriol Suite was familiar to me from its orchestral version, though it started life as a piano duet. The first movement had a nice Renaissance feel with antiphonal writing, while the second seemed almost like a hymn tune set against muted accompaniment (the mutes created a quasi-buzzy sound at times). The third movement was dance like both in sound and in terms of the choreography of the mutes. The fourth had a perpetual motion feel that increased in speed and then increased in speed again. The fifth was gentler—I found myself wondering if it was rooted in an actual lullaby—sweet, and even poignant, including its brief coda. The final movement was brisk and energetic and, even in its ending, almost harsh.
The Seven Bagatelles began with a fanfare and then sort of morphed through a quick movement, a gentle movement, a muted movement with slightly dissonant chords, and then a return to the rocking feel. A brisk, full movement followed that seemed to have a modern feel, or a film score feeling. A ponderous section followed that gave me the feeling of the composer saying, “Look what I can do,” though not in an entirely pleasing way. A fun waltz followed that included a few slides for an almost comic effect before returning to another fanfare to close the piece out.
The Beethoven, also familiar to me, had dramatic unison/octave writing for its beginning. Dark chords followed and then the music fully unfolded. It was a fairly effective adaptation of major orchestral writing, though at times I felt there was almost a touch of overkill. Still it allowed for the full amassed sound of twelve trombones—and they definitely made a statement. But I liked the statement of the Gabrieli better. I’m glad I got to hear it and all of the other pieces in this intriguing concert.
ConcertMeister
Thursday, April 4, 2019
Duos and Trios for Violin, Soprano, Clarinet and Piano (3/30/19)
Alexander Meshibovsky, violin; Osceola Davis, soprano; Gary Dranch, clarinet; Diana Mittler-Battipaglia, piano
Meine Seele hort im Sehen; In den angenehmen Buschen; Flammende Rose, Zierde der Erden – Handel (1685–1759)
Sonata in G Major, Opus 78 for Violin and Piano – 1. Vivace ma non troppo, 2. Adagio, 3. Allegro molto moderato; Scherzo from FAE Sonata for Violin and Piano – Brahms (1833–1897)
The Shepherd on the Rock (Der Hirt auf dem Felsen) for Soprano, Clarinet and Piano – Schubert (1797–1828)
Five Pieces for Violin, Clarinet and Piano – 1. Prelude, 2. Gavotte, 3. Elegy, 4. Waltz, 5. Polka – Shostakovich (1906–1975)
Paganiana for Violin and Piano – Paganini-Meshibovsky
The first of the three arias for soprano, violin and piano was bright and pleasant, with some vocal embellishments in the repeat of the main themes. The second was also brisk, though it included some tempo variations—my notes say OK, but with a lack of a chamber music vibe. It had a really fun ending, though. The third was also up tempo and had a better chamber music feel, possibly just from the actual composition style. It was the best of the three for me.
The first movement of the Brahms had a staid intro, with touches of slightly florid writing. It was rather gentle and pretty, but also playful, with some drama (sort of a kitchen sink approach, I felt). The second had an introduction that was piano only, and somewhat somber. The violin joined in with some lovely phrases that were poignant without being maudlin. More touches of drama were added here, as well, but I felt that the musical ideas wandered a bit. The final movement got off to a subdued, though fun, start. Somehow I wanted it to be more fun than it was. The ending was rather quiet. The violinist played the second Brahms piece from memory, and it was a lot more fun. There was a much better interplay among the two musicians, and more cohesive musical ideas that were more fully realized. There was a nice song-like tune in the middle section before returning right back to the energy of the beginning. I liked this piece better than the first sonata.
The Schubert had a lovely piano and clarinet opening, and when the soprano joined in I noticed that this piece was much better suited to her voice and sound (possibly because she was more familiar with it?). It was fun to listen to and had great writing, nice interplay between all three, and a clear setting of the text. The clarinet seemed somehow to add a lot to the setting of the text, too. This was pure fun for me to listen to.
My notes for the Shostakovich are slightly cryptic and stream of consciousness, so here goes. The Prelude was fairly gentle but substantial and slightly dark, even with a bit of a dance thrown in. The Gavotte was perky without being too cute. It had an A-B-A form (first section-contrasting second section-return to the form and notes (mostly) of the first section) and a cute ending. The Elegy was calmer but still full bodied, with the clarinet featured, then the violin, then both. It was also in A-B-A form with a brief coda at the end. The Waltz was energetic but not too much so; it also had a touch of a folk song feeling. The Polka was, a-one, a-two, and off we go! It was tons of fun from start to finish.
Paganiana was a reworking of Paganini phrases for violin and piano that were interesting and hinted at virtuosic but I wasn’t blown away. For me, Schubert and Shostakovich were the pieces that were my favorites of the afternoon.
ConcertMeister
Meine Seele hort im Sehen; In den angenehmen Buschen; Flammende Rose, Zierde der Erden – Handel (1685–1759)
Sonata in G Major, Opus 78 for Violin and Piano – 1. Vivace ma non troppo, 2. Adagio, 3. Allegro molto moderato; Scherzo from FAE Sonata for Violin and Piano – Brahms (1833–1897)
The Shepherd on the Rock (Der Hirt auf dem Felsen) for Soprano, Clarinet and Piano – Schubert (1797–1828)
Five Pieces for Violin, Clarinet and Piano – 1. Prelude, 2. Gavotte, 3. Elegy, 4. Waltz, 5. Polka – Shostakovich (1906–1975)
Paganiana for Violin and Piano – Paganini-Meshibovsky
The first of the three arias for soprano, violin and piano was bright and pleasant, with some vocal embellishments in the repeat of the main themes. The second was also brisk, though it included some tempo variations—my notes say OK, but with a lack of a chamber music vibe. It had a really fun ending, though. The third was also up tempo and had a better chamber music feel, possibly just from the actual composition style. It was the best of the three for me.
The first movement of the Brahms had a staid intro, with touches of slightly florid writing. It was rather gentle and pretty, but also playful, with some drama (sort of a kitchen sink approach, I felt). The second had an introduction that was piano only, and somewhat somber. The violin joined in with some lovely phrases that were poignant without being maudlin. More touches of drama were added here, as well, but I felt that the musical ideas wandered a bit. The final movement got off to a subdued, though fun, start. Somehow I wanted it to be more fun than it was. The ending was rather quiet. The violinist played the second Brahms piece from memory, and it was a lot more fun. There was a much better interplay among the two musicians, and more cohesive musical ideas that were more fully realized. There was a nice song-like tune in the middle section before returning right back to the energy of the beginning. I liked this piece better than the first sonata.
The Schubert had a lovely piano and clarinet opening, and when the soprano joined in I noticed that this piece was much better suited to her voice and sound (possibly because she was more familiar with it?). It was fun to listen to and had great writing, nice interplay between all three, and a clear setting of the text. The clarinet seemed somehow to add a lot to the setting of the text, too. This was pure fun for me to listen to.
My notes for the Shostakovich are slightly cryptic and stream of consciousness, so here goes. The Prelude was fairly gentle but substantial and slightly dark, even with a bit of a dance thrown in. The Gavotte was perky without being too cute. It had an A-B-A form (first section-contrasting second section-return to the form and notes (mostly) of the first section) and a cute ending. The Elegy was calmer but still full bodied, with the clarinet featured, then the violin, then both. It was also in A-B-A form with a brief coda at the end. The Waltz was energetic but not too much so; it also had a touch of a folk song feeling. The Polka was, a-one, a-two, and off we go! It was tons of fun from start to finish.
Paganiana was a reworking of Paganini phrases for violin and piano that were interesting and hinted at virtuosic but I wasn’t blown away. For me, Schubert and Shostakovich were the pieces that were my favorites of the afternoon.
ConcertMeister
Tuesday, April 2, 2019
Songbook (3/25/19)
Songbook is a program that presents up and coming theater composers and librettists. Usually several different songs from several different artists from several different shows are presented. March’s was different in that we heard a staged reading of a work-in-progress musical. Beau had a concept, book and lyrics by Douglas Lyons, with music by Ethan D. Pakchar and Douglas Lyons. The interesting concept for the show is that all of the actors also play instruments ranging from piano to guitar to electric bass to mandolin to violin to percussion. Set in Memphis and Nashville, I was a little concerned that it would be too ‘twangy’ for me but that turned out not to be a problem. I didn’t take notes, so I’ll be flying by the seat of my pants.
Pop Pop Beau laid out the premise that young 12-year-old Ace Barker became aware that his grandfather, Beau, was not actually dead—he’d just been estranged from Ace’s mother, Raven. As a solo opening number (though there may have been backup harmonies) it was pretty effective.
One of the songs, Shut Up, was pretty darn funny. And Beau had one song that was more honky-tonk than country. Other songs along the way were So Better, Crush, and my favorite, Thursday in July, where Ace reminisces about his grandfather dying so soon after Ace just got to know him and learned to play the guitar from him. It was quite poignant. I found the final song, Runnin’, to be a little strange (somewhat addressed below).
Some of the songs seemed to just peter out instead of having real endings but that may just have been a byproduct of the staged reading aspect of the evening. And some of the plot points might have been realized better in an actual staging of the full musical. The good news is that a full staging is planned for this summer at the Adirondack Theatre Festival.
One of the best things about the evening for me though, was the fact that BrotherMeister and his husband were in attendance with me and they both seemed to like the evening a lot. In some sense, I wish that they had seen a more typical Songbook, but I’m glad they got this experience—and I always tell them that it’s a crap shoot. It can sometimes be hit or miss but this one was one of the hits. I’m already planning on attending the April Songbook later this month.
BrotherMeister, feel free to chime in with your reactions if you’d like to.
ConcerMeister
Pop Pop Beau laid out the premise that young 12-year-old Ace Barker became aware that his grandfather, Beau, was not actually dead—he’d just been estranged from Ace’s mother, Raven. As a solo opening number (though there may have been backup harmonies) it was pretty effective.
One of the songs, Shut Up, was pretty darn funny. And Beau had one song that was more honky-tonk than country. Other songs along the way were So Better, Crush, and my favorite, Thursday in July, where Ace reminisces about his grandfather dying so soon after Ace just got to know him and learned to play the guitar from him. It was quite poignant. I found the final song, Runnin’, to be a little strange (somewhat addressed below).
Some of the songs seemed to just peter out instead of having real endings but that may just have been a byproduct of the staged reading aspect of the evening. And some of the plot points might have been realized better in an actual staging of the full musical. The good news is that a full staging is planned for this summer at the Adirondack Theatre Festival.
One of the best things about the evening for me though, was the fact that BrotherMeister and his husband were in attendance with me and they both seemed to like the evening a lot. In some sense, I wish that they had seen a more typical Songbook, but I’m glad they got this experience—and I always tell them that it’s a crap shoot. It can sometimes be hit or miss but this one was one of the hits. I’m already planning on attending the April Songbook later this month.
BrotherMeister, feel free to chime in with your reactions if you’d like to.
ConcerMeister
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