WQXR's 2021 Classical Countdown

Hey, it's free music on the radio. That counts, right? (Full disclosure, I donate a modest amount each year to WQXR.) OK, the rules are a little weird. Listeners vote for their five favorite compositions. The station counts them down to midnight on Dec. 31. Sort of.

The countdown started at 9am today (12/27) and will go (I think?) to midnight; it will then pick up again at 9am (12/28); lather, rinse, repeat.

They (usually) play entire works, except for operas (selections from Porgy and Bess, selections from La Bohème). Also, they played six Chopin Nocturnes as #101: Chopin: Nocturnes. <<--- see what they did there?

Anyhoo, two of my five choices have already made the list – Ralph Vaughan Williams: Serenade to Music (#107), and Tchaikovsky: Serenade for Strings (#100).

Oh, did I mention that they change the number of pieces for the countdown from year to year? Sometimes it's been 96 (when their signal was 96.3 on the FM dial), or 105 (when their signal (and it's current)) is 105.9. Why it's 125 this year, I have no clue.

Don't ask about the G&S brouhaha. (Unless you really want to know.)

Two more of my five will probably make the cut; one probably never will. ConcertMeister

The Orchestra Now (12/19/2021)

Roman Carnival Overture – Hector Berlioz (1803–1869)
Four Sea Interludes from Peter Grimes – Benjamin Britten (1913–1976)
Symphonic Poem of 3 Notes – Tan Dun (b. 1957)
Symphony No. 5 – Jean Sibelius (1865–1957)

First off, TON, thank you, thank you, thank you for bringing live music back to live audiences (with protections in place).

At nine minutes (thank you for such interesting and helpful notes), the Berlioz was a great curtain raiser (even though there was no curtain). It was bright, and incorporated themes from his opera Benvenuto Cellini. A nice mix of tempos, phrases, and orchestration.

The Britten was adapted from his opera Peter Grimes. The opera premiered on 6/7/1945; the Interludes premiered just six days later. I found some of the writing in the first Interlude rather spare, which is OK, since they were written as pieces to bridge the opera from one scene to the next, while trying to set the scene, as well. The third, Morning, was appropriately brooding, while the fourth, Storm, was appropriately stormy.

The Tan Dun, while it had an interesting back story, didn’t quite work for me. The three notes were “la-si-do”—the top three notes of a major scale—and the piece was written for the 70th birthday of Placido Domingo. Get it? La-si-do? Pla-ci-do? It was cute the first time. Not so much after iteration after reiteration. Again and again. Get it? Yes, the piece worked as a legit composition, but for me, it couldn’t shake its baggage.

Sibelius’ symphony, in three movements, had some interesting background (and baggage) as well. He tinkered with it (specifically regarding pacing) even after it had premiered. Using the full palette of orchestral colors, it was a very effective (if not affecting) work. I liked it well enough—but just.

A note on the orchestra—they are what is known as a training orchestra. They commit to a three-year training program associated with Bard College. They practice and train with world-class professionals, and the training shows up in these performances.

Did I mention that this concert was free? And that all audience members were screened for full vaccination? There are some good things in NYC. Was I concerned? Yes. Did I take maximum precautions? Yes.

ConcertMeister

 

2021 Caroling in Greenwich Village

Unfortunately, caroling was cancelled due to breakthrough Covid cases.
This is what I would have worn if it had actually occurred. I also had a red foam nose and a 'silver' bell.
Alas, they'll have to wait for 2022.

ConcertMeister

Tuba Christmas (12/12/21)

For those of you asking, “What the heck is Tuba Christmas?”, it’s a concert where many (sometimes many, many) tuba players (baritones, Sousaphones, and orchestral tubas) gather together and share Christmas songs with the general public. Concerts take place in several states (and internationally, I believe). Sunday’s NYC performance was a bit different from others I’ve seen. First things first, there was no Rockefeller Center Tuba Christmas performance last December (damn you, Covid!). Also different this year was where the tubists performed. They were still on the plaza, but not on a platform built out over the ice rink. And there were fewer tubists than in years past; still, there were slightly more than two hundred this year. So, the sound wasn’t quite as impressive (though those two hundred gave it their all). When they are on a platform over the ice, the sound really rings out as though it’s coming from a canyon (well, duh, because it is). That said, I really enjoyed it, and the assembled crowd/audience did too.

The old-chestnut songs and hymns were well represented—Adeste Fideles; We Three Kings; Good King Wenceslaus Looked Out; Silent Night; Angels We Have Heard on High; God Rest Ye, Merry Gentlemen, etc. (I’m probably forgetting some; I didn’t take notes.) And while I didn’t stay all the way through, the up tempo Jingle Bells was high on my list of fun favorites. As always, the audience was encouraged to sing along after the brass had played through each song the first time. As always, it was hit or miss. As always, it was still fun.

From some running commentary, we gleaned that this was the 48th NYC Tuba Christmas (not 48th Annual—see “damn you, Covid!” above). The youngest tubist was twelve; the oldest was seventy-four. The one who traveled the farthest came from (I think) Seattle, WA—definitely a west-coaster.

Will I go again? Possibly. At least the weather was very pleasant this year, though my feet did start getting a little chilly. Am I glad I went this year? You bet! Any return to a sense of normalcy after the hell that was 2020 is something to be celebrated. Go, ye, and celebrate too!

ConcertMeister

(p.s. Did I mention the tree?)

Gotham Early Music Series (12/9/2021)

Washington Cornett and Sackbutt Ensemble
Festive Music from the German Kingdoms

OK, this will not be a history lesson, but I do need to lay out a few things first. The ensemble played cornettos and sackbuts, both of which are frequently used in early-music ensembles. I do not know why the group chose alternate spellings. The instruments are precursors to (or earlier variants of) later brass instruments—cornets and trombones, though the cornettos are not brass at all, except for the mouthpieces. End of history lesson (do your own searches if you want more info).

There were twelve pieces on the program (two with multiple movements), so I will not name them all. I will, however, list the composers and their dates, should you wish to explore them more.

Samuel Scheidt (1587–1654); Thomas Stoltzer (1480–1526); Ludwig Senfl (1486–1543); Piae Cantiones (1582), Arr. Michael Holmes; Michael Praetorious (1571–1621); Hans Leo Hassler (1564–1612); Daniel Speer (1636–1701); and Johann Walther (1496–1570). I’ve sung about half of them; the others were new to me.

The cornettos were often bright and brash, while the sackbuts were generally more mellow. Both, however, could be a bit ‘in your face’ from time to time. Listed in the program was a harpsichordist/organist. I really only heard organ as continuo (a sort of underscoring and support for the other instruments).

The individual pieces ranged from dance-like, with interesting phrases and rhythms, to slightly somber from time to time. One of the sackbut players also used a hand drum for one piece as well as a larger over-the-shoulder drum (think 1776 images) for a couple of the pieces. The drum was actually used as a divider/intro for a few of the multiple movement pieces.

The ensemble also had a guest soprano who joined them and sang quite well on a few holiday-themed pieces including “Joseph lieber, Joseph mein” and “Es ist ein Ros entsprungen” (“Joseph dearest, Joseph mine” and “Lo, How a Rose E’er Blooming”).

The concert (brief, at approximately forty-five minutes) concluded with a Samuel Scheidt bright up tempo piece for both cornettos, all three sackbuts, and the continuo player.

I’ll keep my eye out for Gotham Early Music Scene. It may not be everyone’s scene, but it’s one that I enjoy from time to time.

ConcertMeister

Midtown Concerts (11/11/21)

Les Goûts réunis
Virtuoso Works by Italian and French composers

Cléa Galhano, recorder; Peter Sykes, harpsichord

Sonata Prima à solo (1629) – Dario Castello (c.1602–1631)
Sonata Seconda (1641*) – Giovanni B. Fontana (1571–c.1630)
Toccata III in G Major – Johann Jakob Froberger (1616–1667)
Troisième livre de pieces de clavecin – Francois Couperin (1672–1733) – Le Rossignol-en-amour, La Linote-éfarouchée; Les Fauvétes plaintives; Le Rossignol vainqueur, La Julliet; Le Carrillon de Cithére; Le Petit rien
Sonata IV – Francesco Mancini (1672–1737) – Spiritoso; Largo; Allegro; Largo; Allegro Spiccato
*Date the work was published

Recorder/harpsichord music is not everyone’s cup of tea, and while I enjoyed the concert, there was so much sameness that I wish there had been a way to mix it up a bit. But hey, I’m not complaining—I got to hear live music. (They also live stream their concerts to midtownconcerts.org and YouTube.) The series is under the auspices of Gotham Early Music Scene (gemsny.org). Whew! I think I’ve covered all of the techie stuff. Oh, masks were required as well as proof of vaccination. The concerts take place on Thursdays at 1:15pm at Church of the Transfiguration – 1 East 29th Street, New York, NY.

The first piece was a duet that had a subdued harpsichord introduction followed by quick (though not frantic) finger work from the recorder. There was a nice back and forth of slower/quicker tempos and phrases.

The second was also a duet with a quiet opening that also included a few subtle flourishes. It was similar in style to the first piece, though the individual sections were a little longer and they linked together a little more smoothly.

The Froberger Toccata was for solo harpsichord. Speaking from the keyboard, Mr. Sykes explained that Froberger traveled widely and that this piece was in the Italian style. He also informed us to listen for what has been referred to as the Froberger Rocket—a very rapid scale that could be running up or running down, always with a brief pause at the end. There were supposed to be four of them. I only heard the fourth and final one, but it was well worth the wait, almost like a ta-da! at the end of the piece.

Ms. Galhano switched to a soprano recorder for the fourth piece. It was smaller and produced a higher range than the recorders she had used previously. The first and third movements (as their names implied) each had two distinct sections. The first section of the first movement was relatively subdued while the second section was more rapid and included a few solo harpsichord phrases. The second movement was entirely solo harpsichord and was indeed plaintive without being maudlin. The first section of the third movement was a perky duet right out of the gate and actually throughout the entire section. The second section was dancelike in 3/4 time. It was neither waltz nor minuet, though it was very pleasant. The fourth movement (harpsichord solo again) provided requisite bell-like tones and tolls. The final movement was a jaunty duet, with the occasional harpsichord solo here and there.

The first movement of the final piece (another duet) was quick, brief, and fun. The contrasting second movement was slower and also relatively brief. The third movement was in a faster tempo again and seemed to be the centerpiece of the work in terms of complexity and back and forth banter. The slower tempo of the fourth movement was a contrast again and there were longer, less detailed phrases, a few flourishes thrown in for good measure, as well as a feeling of humor. The final movement was brisk (not quite Off to the Races—but close), with lots of fleet, fancy finger work from both players, but mostly from the recordist.

Next week is another duo, but they didn’t post what it’s a duo of. I’ll scope it out and see whether or not I want to attend. Ditto for Dec. 2. But Dec. 9 is definitely on my watchlist—Washington Cornett and Sackbutt Ensemble. Did I mention how great it is to be able to go to free, live concerts here in NYC again? It is!

ConcertMeister

The 5 Browns (9/28/21)

 Deondra (piano), Desirae (piano), Gregory (piano), Melody (piano), Ryan (piano)

Yes, five sibling pianists. Yes, all five attended Juilliard. Yes, all five are Steinway Artists. Yes, the concert was a ton o’ fun. There was a bit of a stage lighting problem at the very beginning. The stage had been bathed in a nice glow. The pianists entered, bowed, and sat at their keyboards. And sat. Finally a techie realized that they needed more light in order the see their keyboards and each other. Quick fix.

Symphony No. 5 in C Minor, Op. 67 – I. Allegro con brio – L. Beethoven/J. Shumway
“Malaguena” from Andalucia Suite – Ernesto Lecuona
Scenes from West Side Story – L. Bernstein/K. D. Briggs
Flight of the Bumblebee – N. Rimsky-Korsakov/Shumway
Star Wars: Suite for Five Pianos – J. Williams/G. Anderson
Rondo alla Turca – W. Mozart/Anderson
“Clair de Lune” from Suite Bergamasque – C. Debussy/Anderson
Rhapsody in Blue – G. Gershwin/Shumway

I had never seen five grand pianos all together on a single stage until this past Tuesday. Lest you think it was five people just banging away on five pianos, it was decidedly not.

Beethoven. Bum-bum-bum-bum! What a great way to start a concert. I was so intrigued, I only took minimal notes, but at one point the lower notes of the piano(s) were effectively used as timpani rolls. After musical chairs (the pianists moved around and played different pianos from time to time), the two brothers played a mood piece that was also spirited at times. At this point, there was a brief radio interview interlude, as this was a live broadcast on WQXR (and they had a backup plan for the outdoor venue, since the weather had been iffy during the afternoon and early evening).

West Side Story had all five players again, and included finger snaps at the beginning of the suite. It was sort of traditional, in a nontraditional way, focusing mostly on the up tempo, crowd scene numbers, though Tonight was included. I found myself wishing that they would have yelled, “Mambo!” at the appropriate times. Flight of the Bumblebee was pretty much five pianists in perpetual motion, not that there’s anything wrong with that.

The Star Wars suite was fun, but some/most of the themes were lost on me. OK, a few were familiar. After another brief radio interview interlude, the Mozart had a slow, gentle opening that then quickly bumped up in tempo. Clair de Lune featured the three sisters all playing one piano. At first, I thought it might be a gimmick, but it was really beautiful, with a more cohesive sound via six hands on one keyboard, as opposed to six hands on three pianos.

Rhapsody in Blue features major piano solos. Here, to me it seemed as though each of the five was the soloist at one time or another.

They had a planned encore in their pocket: Firebird – I. Stravinsky/Shumway. It began with a gentle opening that started to build in intensity, then boom! those driving rhythms that eventually calmed down but led to a strong finish. In an odd twist of events, the lighting went wonky again as the piece wound down, and the five were back into the mood lighting to finish out the piece. Probably not planned—or was it?

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Sugar Hill Music Festival (9/25/21)

 Burnt Sugar the Arkestra Chamber, Duane Eubanks (trumpet), Abiodun Oyewole (poet, author, teacher), Sugar Hill Quartet, Charenee Wade (jazz vocalist)

Sort of. I didn’t hear all of the above-mentioned performers. The entire program was presented by While We Are Still Here, an organization dedicated to preserving Harlem’s history. The afternoon began a little late, as they had some sound system problems. We sang the first verse of Lift Every Voice and Sing, but we really couldn’t hear the song leader, so it didn’t quite kick off the event on the right note. Also, the artists listed above did not perform in the order listed above. So, here’s what I saw/heard.

Mr. Oyewole did an interview session with a professor (I didn’t get the name, as it was not listed in the program). One of his set pieces referred back to a time in his life when he decided not to participate in the Pledge of Allegiance. When asked about it (back then), he decided to create his own pledge, which he explained to us and then had us be the responders in a call-and-response pledge, from years ago. It was an effective set piece. After another brief sound system failure/fix, he also recounted remembrances from his years as one of The Last Poets. They’re worth a rabbit-hole look, if you’re so inclined. We then heard from Gabrielle David, of 2LeafPress – A Black/Brown Female-Led Press, whose new book, Trailblazers, Black Women Who Helped Make America Great, Americans First/American Icons, will be released on October 1, 2021.

Then (after another sound system problem), we got to some music. The Sugar Hill Quartet was a trio (piano, bass, drums) joined by guest saxophonist James Carter. They led off with a swinging rendition of Lester Leaps In, with Mr. Carter on tenor sax. It showed the familiar jazz tinges—all playing together, throwing the spotlight (as it were) to individuals, then rounding out the piece with all players again. Their second piece was mellower, though still powerful (Mr. Carter was on soprano sax for this one). At one point, the sound system crapped out again, but they played gamely on. I actually enjoyed the unamplified sound. Third up was The Minor Mode, an up tempo number with tenor sax. It was playful but almost borderline frantic for me. The fourth and final piece seemed somewhat improvisational. It began with solo sax riffs. As this was an outdoor venue, at one point a car horn honked and Mr. Carter matched it exactly from the stage. After the three others chimed in quietly, the sax stepped to the side and let the other three shine before joining back in and bringing the set to a close.

A bit of fundraising followed: (text ‘xxxxx’ to ‘xxx’, or scan the QR code, or go to various websites to donate) while they reconfigured the stage, and then we got to hear Charenee Wade, with a trio of a different pianist, different bassist, and different drummer. Ms. Wade started out with some light scatting and then eased into a bit of jazz-blues. Up next was Song of the Wind, which opened with a drum solo, added bass, added piano, and then added vocals, all in a slower tempo and with slightly Latin rhythms. Ms. Wade followed that with a version of I’ve Known Rivers (Gary Bartz, music/Langston Hughes/lyrics (poem)). It was a pleasant, straightforward setting of the text. I rather enjoyed it.

By this time, the afternoon had begun to enter early evening, so I withdrew. I was still able to hear the end of Ms. Wade’s set while waiting for my MTA bus. (Note to self—if/when you visit this festival again, plan on staying longer than you thought you would.)

ConcertMeister

Alarm Will Sound (9/18/21)

 Ten Thousand Birds – John Luther Adams (2014)

Thanks to the Rite of Summer concert series on Governors Island, I heard this very interesting concert. A bit of history—the work was premiered by Alarm Will Sound in St. Louis in 2014, if my online search is correct. I only bring this up because there was no printed program. One had to scan a QR code or go to one of several websites Not good for me.

As a result, my writings will be catch-as-catch-can. As explained in the venue (Nolan Park, on Governors Island) the performers would be moving about, sometimes of their own volition, and sometimes as ‘suggested’ in programming notes.

I heard bird sounds presented by: French horn, clarinet, viola, trombone, double bass, flute, violin, cello (who played standing up), trumpet, bassoon, xylophone (on the porch of a building), piccolo, percussion blocks, piano, (somehow I don’t think the helicopters were in the score), some percussion-like bongos, tympani, (at one point, three string players flitted through the performance space, like birds flitting through a meadow), marimbas (plural), metallophone, oboe, piano, electronic keyboard … well ... you get my drift. And their drift. They drifted throughout the performance space and showed up in very strange spaces. As in, in your face spaces. For the record, my guesses were pretty darned good.

As for the music itself, it was repetitive, as would be expected for bird sounds. Toward the end, some new sounds were introduced, and they were a welcome addition. But for the most part, the sounds just washed over the audience, from odd areas, odd distances, and odd places. At one point a violinist was in a tree (I’m not making this up, you know!). Toward the end, a live bird started chirping. There were many smiles. One instrument that I asked about after the performance was called a bullroarer. It’s wooden, on a string, but like that plastic tube thing-y you swung around your head to make a woo-woo-woo sound. This was more refined.

I’m pretty sure I will never hear this piece again. But if I have the chance, I’ll jump at it. If you get the chance, jump!

ConcertMeister

A Celebration of the Life and Work of Harry T. Burleigh (9/12/21)

Deep River – Steven Kirby, baritone; There Is a Balm in Gilead – Melisa Bonetti, Shaina Martinez, Laura Jobin-Acosta; My Lord What a Morning – Calvary-St. George’s Choir
Burleigh at Temple Emanu-El – Dr. Andrew Henderson; Jack Coen
A Jubilee – Kamel Boutrous
You Ask Me If I Love You – Laura Jobin- Acosta; One Year – Steven Kirby; He Sent Me You – Shaina Martinez
Go Tell It on the Mountain – Calvary-St. George’s Choir

A first for me, I attended a co-naming ceremony for a street on Sept. 12, 2021—HARRY T BURLEIGH PL (that’s the way street signs work in NYC).

After the ceremony, there was (gasp!) an indoor concert. Since it was in a church (a new one for me) and since every other pew was roped off (but most people, including me, wore masks), it was pretty safe for an indoor concert.

The first piece was slow and very moving. Stately. This would be a major theme. The second started with ethereal humming (also a recognizable motif).

I should probably do a mini-history lesson here. Burleigh integrated St. George’s choir in the early 1900s and, as a soloist, he also integrated Temple Emanu-El’s choir. Along the way, he arranged many spirituals, introducing them to mainstream America. (Plantation music as well, but that needs more exploration by me.)

Back to the music. My Lord What a Morning was a fairly straightforward setting, with a stronger second section that then scaled back down, ending quietly.

A video from Temple Emanu-El  followed, with a solemn organ meditation by Dr. Andrew Henderson. He also found, buried in the archives, a setting of May the Words (a Jewish/Hebrew text) set to the tune of Deep River, by Harry Burleigh. We heard it on video sung by the Temple Emanu-El choir.

The piano solo, A Jubilee, was composed in the style of a spiritual while incorporating touches of jazz.
Three Art Songs followed, probably trying to set his fate as a legitimate composer (though I don’t think that was necessary). You Ask Me If I Love You, One Year, and He Sent Me You were early–20th-century examples of art songs, no matter the skin color of the composer.

The final piece, sung by the Calvary-St George’s Choir was Go Tell It on the Mountain. While it was spiritual, I wish it had been more boisterous. Maybe I needed a William Dawson arrangement.

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Summer Streets 2021 — Bindlestiff Family Cirkus (8/7/21)

I started my Summer Streets walk at the Brooklyn Bridge (the Manhattan side).

OK, I got caught up in this rather silly, but fun, circus. They bill themselves as the Flatbed Follies, since all of the acts take place on three flatbed trailers (we never saw the tractor part).

There was silliness from clowns (including a somewhat lengthy bit about building a sandwich, with a ‘special’ ingredient—pepper!). A rhythmic trope of “Pepper, pepper pep-PER” was repeated four times. Think conga line. The entire four-time trope was repeated four times. Did I mention that this was geared toward kids? Of course, all that pepper led to a great big Ah-Choo! that dismantled the entire sandwich.

There were also jugglers, a contortionist, a rhythmic gymnast ? (I’m watching too much Olympics on TV), a plate spinner (in a throwback to the Ed Sullivan show), a chair strongman artist, and a wire walker/dancer. Silly? Yes. Fun? Yes. Did I enjoy it? Yes. Did I mention rubber chickens? Did I mention it was free?

That was at Foley Square. I then walked the route up Lafayette Avenue to 14th Street (where I dropped off my composting), and then up Park Avenue to Grand Central. Seeing it up close is a real treat. I continued up to 65th Street. The event ran to 72nd Street, but I ran out of time, and there’s not too much to see up there.

Did I enjoy it? Yes! Will I do it again next Saturday? Doubtful. Do I recommend it to my NYC peeps for 8/14 (7a–1p)? Definitely!

ConcertMeister

Naumburg Orchestral Concerts (8/3/21)

ECCO (East Coast Chamber Orchestra) – ShaiWosner, piano

W.A. Mozart (1756–91) – Piano Concerto No.14 in E-flat major, K449 (1784) – (i) Allegro vivace, (ii) Andantino, (iii) Allegro ma non troppo
Hanna Benn (1988–) – Where Springs Not Fail (2016)
Osvaldo Golijov (1960–) – Last Round (1996) –
W.A. Mozart (1756–91) – Piano Concerto No.12 in A major, K.414 (1782) – (i) Allegro,
(ii) Andante (iii) Rondeau. Allegretto

The first movement of the Mozart had a nice heft at the opening, for a chamber orchestra (six violins, three violas, three cellos, and one double bass), though there was also a gentle feel. After the strings in the opening, we had solo piano (this will be a recurring scene), followed by back and forth string accompaniment. There was a touch of drama before a solo piano cadenza, leading to a bright ending. The second movement was slower and gentle (strings, then piano joining), pretty without being cloying, though a bit long. Of course, the moment I wrote that in my notes, the movement came to an end. The third movement was brighter (strings, then piano). It had a real chamber music feel before a perky section that led to a fun finish.

Ms. Benn’s work, inspired by a Gerard Manley Hopkins poem, had a very calm opening, with a sort of shimmery feel. It was modern without being harsh, with a nice contemplative feel. Though it wandered a bit, it felt to me like brief episodes that were linked together.

Last Round was based on a short story, and it was the composer’s reactions to the illness and death of the great Argentinian composer Astor Piazzolla. With a definite tango feel, it was energetic while being modern but accessible. At one point, the tempo increased to almost frenetic but was then dialed back down. Still, it couldn’t stay serene for too long. Then there was an extended slow section, sounding mournful, that eventually faded away to nothing.

The first movement of the second Mozart piano concerto had a lilting opening for the strings before getting a little fuller; then, as usual, the piano joined the party. This was the more tinkly Mozart style than the previous concerto, though there was some solidity in the strings from time to time. There was also a more extensive piano solo/cadenza toward the end of the movement than in the previous concerto. The second movement had a lovely opening from the strings followed by a sedate solo piano entry [this was probably my favorite movement of the six Mozart movements]. The final movement was jaunty, with a return to tinkly, in a pretty way, followed by a few dark hints of drama.

Here’s a brief note about the cadenzas I mentioned. I certainly didn’t have a score in front of me, but my understanding is that Mozart wrote a piano solo at the end of the movement that allowed some flexibility for the soloist to improvise and add to (in an appropriate manner) before returning to an obvious aural cue for the orchestra to rejoin, in order to finish the movement. How much improvising Mr. Wosner did, I do not know. But his returns with the orchestra were seamless and easy to understand.

Full disclosure: I am not a huge Mozart fan. I enjoyed this concert more than I thought I would, possibly because it was a lighter chamber orchestra feel. I sometimes feel bashed over the head with Mozart played by huge ensembles. Some of the evening’s tinkly stuff grated slightly, but not nearly as much as I expected.

There was a solo piano encore (not announced) which sounded slightly Slavic to me. Maybe a Tchaikovsky piano morsel? It would have been nice to know.

ConcertMeister

Naumburg Orchestral Concerts (7/20/21)

Philharmonia Baroque Orchestra
Richard Egarr, Conductor • Rowan Pierce, Soprano

Christopher Gibbons (1615/20–1676) – Fantasy in A minor
John Blow (1649–1708) – 3 Songs – [Ya know what? I’m not going to name every one; you’ll see why later.]
Matthew Locke (1621/23–1677) – Curtain Tune from The Tempest
Henry Purcell – (1659–1695) – 3 Songs
Purcell – Chaconne from King Arthur
Purcell – 13 selections from Fairy Queen (do you see now why I didn’t name every movement of every work?)
N.B. * = soprano soloist

A slight explanation is needed here. In this case, a baroque orchestra is played by string players using baroque-era instruments—a double bass from 1648 to violins from c. 1800. Could I hear a difference? I could not. Was more tuning necessary? It was. Was a theorbo involved? It was. (For those of you in the know, I have explained theorbos in the past. For the rest of you, Google/Yahoo! is your friend.)

On to the music. The opening work was calm, with increasing volume, though rather staid. The second work added the soprano* soloist. The first movement was jaunty, with florid writing (many notes and runs on a single syllable). After re-tuning the theorbo (^^ see more tuning, above), the second movement was slower and calmer, yet still with energy. The third movement was a sweet waltz, with an emphasis on sweet, and was my favorite of the three.

The third work had a quiet opening, then a quick build-up, then a back-and-forth section, in a changeable way—a real Tempest feel. (This compositional style is representative of the era.)

The first* Henry Purcell song was similar to the John Blow pieces (soloist* and continuo (harpsichord and theorbo/guitar)), with a narrative, story-telling feel that was dramatic at times. The second (also sung) was calmer but still very pretty; the third switched back and forth between calm and more quick sections. The Purcell Chaconne featured the entire ensemble of strings in a pleasant dance form, without being overdone.

After intermission, my notes are a hot mess. Thirteen movements? Fading light? Movements that seemed to change order? Here’s my best take.
Lively opening that was not quite an overture, but close / Pleasant dance / * Waltz song with two verses / Jaunty dance (Fairies) / Rousing dance (Haymakers) / Slightly more relaxed dance (Monkeys, though they then got frisky and cute) / * The Plaint (O Let Me Weep—properly plaintive) / Quite a jaunty dance (Hornpipe) / A gentle dance / * A song not quite as plaintive as The Plaint, but cut from the same cloth / the last three selections sort of blurred together, without quite a big finish, but it was close.

There was a well-deserved * folk song encore.

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Naumburg Orchestral Concerts (7/6/21)

A Far Cry

Edvard Grieg (1843–1907)
Holberg Suite Op. 40 (1884)
Praeludium; Sarabande; Gavotte; Air; Rigaudon
Joseph Bologne, Chevalier de Saint-Georges (I’m not making this up, you know) (1745–1799)
Sinfonia Concertante, Op. 13, No. 1 in E-flat major (1778)
Allegro, Rondeau …

As I was going to the concert site, the wind was whipping. As I left my second bus, the rain was massive. Being the Pollyanna that I am, I said, “This too shall pass.” For a while, it did. The first four (of five) movements of the Grieg were played in drizzle. The first was brisk and energetic, with a very sweet tune in the violin—cheerful and almost muscular at times. The second was calmer … I stopped writing … can’t write while holding an umbrella. The Gavotte was fun. The Air was plaintive but enjoyable. The Rigaudon … was not played.

Weather dictated a break (and the rain never really stopped).
After the weather break, they played the Rigaudon, which was energetic and fun. I packed it in after that. Too wet and dismal for me. I heard portions of the Sinfonia as I left Central Park.

I heard later, on WQXR, that the entire concert was performed, and die-hard fans stayed until the end.

It was raining (with lightning) when I left the concert. It was raining when I got on my first, of two, buses home. It was raining when I got on my second, of two, buses home. It was raining when I got home. I think I made the right choice.

p.s. A Far Cry is a great Boston-based group that I have heard before and commented on before. I urge you to Google/Yahoo! them.
ConcertMeister
(Or should I say WetMeister?)

Naumburg Orchestral Concerts (6/29/21)

 Ulysses and Emerson Quartets

Sort of. It was neither orchestral nor was it double quartets.

Richard Strauss (1864-1949), Sextet from Capriccio, Op. 85, (1942) (performed by the Ulysses Quartet with Lawrence Dutton, viola and Paul Watkins, cello)
Anton Bruckner (1824-1896), String Quintet in F major, WAB 112, (1878-79)III. Adagio, G-flat major, common time (performed by the Emerson String Quartet with Colin Brookes, viola)
Dmitri Shostakovich (1906-1975), Two Pieces for String Octet, Op. 11, (1924-25)
1. Adagio; 2. Allegro molto
(performed with the Ulysses Quartet playing the first parts)
Felix Mendelssohn, (1809-1847), Octet in E-flat major, Op. 20, (1825)
1. Allegro moderato ma con fuoco (E-flat major); 2. Andante (C minor); 3. Scherzo: Allegro leggierissimo (G minor); 4. Presto (E-flat major)

(For the record, I copied the program from their website. The key signatures for the Octet mean very little to me. But I liked the work a lot.)

Here’s the deal. This was a program featuring two string quartets. But we never heard two string quartets. The first work was a sextet—the Ulysses quartet with two guests. To me, it was airy but with a rich sound. It added drama by way of increased energy. It was rather moody, and somewhat subdued as a (metaphorical) curtain raiser.

The second work was one movement of a string quintet, played by the Emerson quartet plus a guest. Seeing a pattern yet? The work was slow and sweet, while also a bit somber. The harmonies were on the dense side, deeper and fuller (though the real-life chirping birds—hey, it was an outdoor concert), were a nice touch. It was pleasant, if somewhat staid.

The first movement of Shostakovich’s first piece for octet had an energetic opening before settling down. There were a few dissonances, but nothing at all harsh, with an interesting mix of slower and faster tempos. The second movement was very energetic, after a brief opening, leaning toward more modern harmonies (though nothing overly dramatic). The movement ended with a nice flourish.

The Mendelssohn octet. Ah! It was written when he was sixteen. (Yes, it was edited later, but the exuberance of a sixteen-year-old fills the piece.) Daylight was fading during this last work of an outdoor concert, so scribblings will ensue.

(i) Bubbly, youthful exuberance, while also being nuanced. There were several returns to the opening motifs, which were developed along the way.
(ii) (After a quick re-tuning) A lovely and slightly tugging-at-the-heartstrings (in a good way) feeling, plus some drama involved, as well, and hope, too, was followed by a subtle ending.
(iii) Lots of energy! Even though it was in a minor key, the feeling of hope just can’t be tamped down, especially including the clever ending to the movement.
(iv) Even more energetic, with a brisk cello opening; then everyone is pretty much off to the races. They were having a great time of it—oh, sure, they took the occasional breather—but the energy never flagged.

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The Knights (6/19/21)

Antonio Vivaldi: Il Gardellino, Flute Concerto in D – flute, strings; Heitor Villa-Lobos: Song of the Black Swan – cello, harp; Joaquin Rodrigo, arr. Bridget Kibbey and The Knights: De los álamos vengo, madre – full ensemble; João Gilberto, arr. C. Jacobsen: Undiu – flute/voice, clarinet, harp, strings; Jessie Montgomery: Source Code – strings; Maurice Ravel: Introduction and Allegro – full ensemble; Paco De Lucía, arr. C. Jacobsen: Zyryab – flute, clarinet, harp, strings; Lili Boulanger: Nocturne – flute, harp; Tommy Potts, arr. C. Jacobsen: The Butterfly – full ensemble; American Traditional, arr. Jacobsen: Little Birdie – flute/vocals, clarinet, harp, strings

Yes, this was my second hearing of The Knights in less than a week. Even though they’re primarily a chamber orchestra, this (only seven players) was more of a chamber ensemble than an orchestra. I know that looks like a daunting program, but some of the pieces were fairly short (some, though, I wish had been shorter than they were). This was an outdoor concert at Governors Island under the aegis of the Rite of Summer Music Series. I’m a fan. I even wore my Rite of Summer t-shirt today and was recognized by the two founders.

Enough about me—on to the music. The first piece, in three movements, was scored here for two violins, viola, cello, and flute. The first movement was slightly jaunty, and it was perfect music for an outdoor setting, sounding sort of airy (discounting the annoying helicopters). The second was slower, featuring flute, pizzicato (plucked) violin strings, and cello. The final movement was brisk and cheerful.

The second work was cello and harp, a lovely combination to my mind. It was slow and gentle—sort of mournful without being maudlin.

The third had a gentle opening followed by a quicker, dance-like section, with shifting moods, all of which were fun. If you’re sensing a gentle/quicker theme here, the program was focused on birds and other fauna. Also, it was supposed to be played last year at this time, so …

Next up was not really a lullaby, just a gentle interlude, then a lush middle section, with vocals, cello, and harp to round it out.

Fifth was a string quartet as a Juneteenth tribute. Described in the composer’s words as a single-movement dirge based on themes from American spirituals, that pretty much summed it up.

The Ravel is a somewhat famous work, and I was glad to be hearing it in person for my first time ever. It had a calm opening and lovely tunes that were tossed about from instrument to instrument. Even when the tempo was brisker, it still had a calm feeling. Maybe the harp just does that.

The seventh work was dance-like, based on flamenco rhythms. Nice enough, it seemed to ramble on a bit. A little more on that later.

Maybe you know the name Nadia Boulanger? (No, she was not a French baker.) She was a formidable (and please pronounce that with a French accent) composer and teacher in Paris. As it turns out, her sister was also a composer. This Nocturne was almost a lullaby, although it had a few bursts of energy.

The ninth and tenth pieces were fairly similar—one with an Irish lilt and one with an American folk tune feel. The repetitive quality of both reminded me of the rambling, as I mentioned above. Repetitive can work, with enough variation. Without variation, I tend to zone out.

That said, I loved hearing The Knights again; I loved hearing live music with an audience again; and I will return for Rite of Summer’s next (and, unfortunately, final for the season) concert in September.

ConcertMeister

We're Back! – The Knights (6/15/21)

 Lyric for Strings, (1946) – George T. Walker (1922–2018)
America, Come featuring (and composed by) Aoife O’Donovan (1982–), vocals (New York Premiere)
Violin Concerto in D Major, Op. 61, (1806), Ludwig van Beethoven (1770–1827), arr. Michael P. Atkinson (b. 1978), featuring Gil Shaham, violin
1. Allegro ma non troppo; 2. Larghetto; 3. Rondo: Allegro

George T. Walker is a composer who is new to me. He was American and Black, and (apparently) this piece was a favorite of his mother and/or grandmother (it was announced from the stage but I didn’t write it down—it’s rough getting back in the groove of taking notes at concerts!).

Oh, but first the orchestra played a little hors d’oeuvre titled Ascending Bird. It was rhythmic, with a hint of New Age music, and it sounded as though it could (maybe will?) be used in a film score. An unexpected treat.

Back to Lyric for Strings. It was slow, with a feeling of serenity, though it did pick up the tempo a bit. It was interesting, pleasant and moody.

America, Come was written in the spirit of celebrating the support of women’s suffrage. Using the words of suffragettes and also elected officials of the era (1914–1920), it had an appropriate folk music feel—Ms. O’Donovan played guitar and sang, ably accompanied by an electric bass and the orchestra. An interesting take on a real American style, if slightly rambling.

Leaving America behind (and performing without intermission, probably COVID related), we moved on to the Beethoven. An odd program listing was (arr. Michael P. Atkinson). Once again, announced from the stage, was the information that The Knights have recorded this piece with Gil Shaham. My guess is that this arrangement scales it down to chamber orchestra size. Mr. Shaham seemed to be delighted to be there, and he interacted with the orchestra throughout, even when he wasn’t playing. On to the music.

The first movement had a fun introduction by the orchestra that was a bit playful before adding some real drama. When the solo violin entered, it was also playful yet dramatic. There was a nice interplay back and forth between soloist and orchestra. During the first-movement cadenza, the violinist was sharing the outdoors aural world with a helicopter. Hey, that’s a part of free outdoor concerts.

The second movement had a short orchestral intro followed by a poignant theme from the solo violin, which was also energetic in its way. Then there was a very delicate section that also provided quiet drama, leading to a short violin cadenza that led right into …

The third movement. You’d recognize the theme. The orchestra and soloist threw it back and forth. They varied it—major/minor, soft/loud—they took it and ran. The third-movement violin cadenza included a whole bunch of double stops (where the violinist plays on more than one string at a time) and very fleet finger work that led to a bang-up finish. Why, yes, there was a standing ovation. Very well deserved. But at the first Naumburg concert in more than a year, it was a gimme. I’m so glad live concerts are back!

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Ballerina Boys – 6/4/21

OK, it wasn’t live; it was an American Masters presentation on PBS. Les Ballets Trockadero de Monte Carlo. They're a male ballet company. All of the ballerinas are male. Well worth the watch. It will most likely make the rounds of your various PBS stations during gay pride June. And, OK, I’ve never seen a full-length Trocks (as they’re affectionately known) presentation, but I did see them perform at at City Center during one of their Fall for Dance programs (not free, but definitely worth the splurge).

Anyhoo, the documentary touched on their formation, their response to the Stonewall riots, their dealing with the 1980s AIDS crisis, and their terrific tribute to real ballet, although with a wicked nod to humor. It touched on learning how to perform in drag (something with which I’m pretty familiar) while remaining true to the art of classical ballet.

If you get a chance to see Ballerina Boys in a rebroadcast, I highly recommend it. If you get a chance to the Trocks live – jump on it!

Concert, er, DanceMeister

Yo! Brooklyn!

WQXR did a tribute to Brooklyn Saturday evening. I tuned in, even though I’m a Manhattanite. But I have been to Brooklyn. The WQXR program referenced Bargemusic—I’ve been there, I’ve rocked and rolled, and I’ve written about it.

I’ve heard Brooklynite Simone Dinnerstein in person (Columbia campus). WQXR referenced Brooklyn Rider and The Knights. I have definitely heard The Knights, but only in Manhattan—Naumburg concerts in Central Park. I’ve also attended Concerts on the Slope in Brooklyn, (I hope they survive the pandemic).

Anyhoo, WQXR had a broadcast that included re-broadcasts of live recordings. I even attended some of them. It was a real treat to hear live performances with a live audience, applauding live.

When we’re back to normal, I highly recommend weekend Bargemusic concerts and Naumburg concerts. And any other live music you can hear.

ConcertMeister

Shakespeare on Stratford (4/24/210)

Brave New World Repertory Theatre

Not quite Shakespeare’s (supposed) birthday, but close. The Stratford mentioned in the title is Stratford Street in Brooklyn, NY. I have attended and enjoyed this event in years past. Obviously, pandemic restrictions led to a rethinking of the event. And lots of it was good.

Nine Shakespeare sonnets were recited—well, one was sung. They were performed on the front porches of one block of Stratford Street, which was a plus and a minus. There were four timed showings, where six pods of listeners moved from point to point. So far, so good—but the pods were so close to each other that hearing the one you were in front of was intruded upon (no way to avoid it, unless they could have commandeered two blocks of Shakespeare Street) by others around you. My pod leader suggested that we snap our fingers instead of applauding, so as to not intrude on other pods. I opted for soft applause (it’s a real thing!).

All of the staged sonnets were performed well. I, of course, was partial to the sung sonnet. In addition to the sonnets there was folk music (vocalists, guitars, fiddle, banjo—more about that later), madrigals, and traditional Afro-Haitian dance. Yo! It’s Brooklyn!

Focusing on the music, “The Cuckoo” was performed by the above-mentioned musicians. I liked it a lot. “Summer-Is-A-Coming-In” was also nicely sung by some of the sonneteers and others. I was really impressed by “One Minute Madrigal”, written by Donald Moore. I couldn’t find out much about when it was composed, but the composer was/is on staff at Kent State University, where my brother-in-law was/is on staff. The madrigal itself is terrifically clever—I suggest that you do an internet search for it.

The Afro-Haitian dances pulled us back into the ‘street performer’ situation that may very well have been prevalent in Shakespeare’s day. Can we really know?

I stuck around for “The Cuckoo” redux at the end of my timed entry, only because I wanted to ask one of the musicians what he was playing. The answer was a gourd banjo—five strings (that looked like plastic to me) above a fretless neck, with a belly that was crafted from a hollowed out, hardened squash shell. It’s great to learn new things while experiencing old things.

Kudos to the organizers. Not realizing that I was supposed to have registered ahead of time, I was afforded registration even though I didn’t have the required electronics for going to the website … yada-yada-yada. Old-fashioned client service rules!

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Great Performances – Renée Fleming in Concert (3/19/21)

Sort of. 

This performance was recorded at Dumbarton Oaks in Washington, DC on August 1, 2020. No audience; no applause; no regular concert vibe. First things first, Ms. Fleming sang beautifully and was accompanied on piano, by Robert Ainsley, magnificently. Now a bit of bad news, I did a cursory online search trying to find a printed program. No quick luck, so you’ll have to slog through this rendition of my scribbled notes. The program was broken up into small segments, as a song recital would be. Ms. Fleming spoke and explained a few things as she went along. Ready for the ride?

The concert opened with an a cappella version of ‘And the People Stayed Home’ by John Corigliano (poem by Kitty O’Meara). It was modern but not harsh, and haunting yet hopeful. Next was a recitative and aria by Handel ‘Calm thou my soul … Convey me.’ (This is my best guess—see ‘scribbled notes’ above.) It was also in a solemn mood. Ms. Fleming noted that these two songs, written 300 years apart, felt quite similar.

Staying with Handel, an aria from Samson was in a brisker tempo and much more florid, as was an aria from Semele, though this one had a few more vocal pyrotechnics. A Reynaldo Hahn song followed which was calmer but not somber.

Two songs by Joseph Canteloube were next (from Songs of the Auvergne perhaps?). The first was up tempo and had a nice piano interlude between the two verses. The second slowed things down a little, and was more familiar to me. It was a lovely rendition with a true vocal/piano collaboration. We next went into full-fledged aria mode, with a piece from Massenet’s Manon. It had varied intensity and vocal contrasts.

Switching gears, we heard the ‘Letter Aria’ from Erich Korngold’s opera Die Kathrin. It was a song of lost love. The Marschallin’s monologue from Richard Strauss’ Der Rosenkavalier followed, and it was clear to me that this holds a special place in Ms. Fleming’s heart—and voice.

An aria from La Bohème sounded to me almost like operetta (in style) but with major operatic sound. Oh, it was written by Leoncavallo. A classical classic followed—‘O mio babbino caro’ from Puccini’s Gianni Schicchi. What can I say? It was a classical classic.

Sort of classical classic, an arrangement of Harold Arlen’s ‘Over the Rainbow’ was next. To my ear, it was a hit and miss arrangement, with both tune and lyrics altered a bit too much for my taste.

The concert closed with ‘Wiegenlied’ by Brahms. Lullaby. And good night.

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