Naumburg Orchestral Concerts (6/28/22)

The Handel & Haydn Society
Aisslinn Nosky, Director and Violin Soloist

Concerto Grosso in D Major, Op. 6, No. 4, (1712 or before) – Arcangelo Corelli (1653–1713)
Concerto Grosso No. 5 in D Minor, (after Scarlatti), (1758) – Charles Avison (1709–1770)
Violin Concerto in A minor, RV 356, (1711 or before) – Antonio Vivaldi (1678–1741)
Concerto Grosso after Corelli, Op. 5, No. 5 in G Minor, (1727) – Francesco Geminiani (1687–1762)
Concerto Grosso in B-flat Major, Op. 6, No. 11, (1712 or before) – Arcangelo Corelli (1653–1713)
Concerto Grosso in F Major, Op. 6, No. 9, (1741) – George Frideric Handel (1685–1759)
Concerto Grosso in D Minor, La Follia, (1732), (after Corelli, Op. 5, No. 12) – Francesco Geminiani (1687–1762) 

What a historical evening. The Handel & Haydn Society, based in Boston, has been in existence since 1814. And this is the 117th season for the Naumburg Orchestral Concerts. The group played on period instruments, and stood while playing, except for the cellists and the harpsichordist. The printed program did not list individual movements, so any references to them are purely guesswork on my part.

The first movement of the first Corelli piece had a sedate opening, but with a full sound. It then moved on to a quicker tempo, chugging along quite nicely. The second movement was slower and a little sad, while the third was quicker again and very pleasant. The fourth movement was also pleasant and lively before racing off to a very clever ending. 

Charles Avison is a composer I had never heard of before Tuesday night. The first movement, in a minor key, still had an energetic quality, and sounded to me almost as if it was a mixture of themes and variations. The second was slower, still minor, and still interesting. The third was in a triple meter, lending it a dancelike feel. 

The Vivaldi concerto’s first movement had a rapid-fire tempo from the very beginning, and the solo violin part was quite prominent. The second was a lovely slower movement that somehow put the word ‘sincerity’ in my head. The final movement sounded like a dance to me (gigue?) and had the classic rapid string writing I always associate with Vivaldi (it’s slightly trite; think Four Seasons). 

The first Geminiani piece began in a stately but not quite grand way—more like steady. The second movement had a brighter tempo and was a bit playful while staying serious. The third was slower and solid, though not somber. The final movement was brisk but soft, playful again and, with once again, a clever ending. A great way to end the first half of the concert. 

Corelli led off the second half with a minor-key sedate opening movement, while the second had a quickening of both tempo and energy. After a rare false start, the third movement was slower, with a feeling of solidity. The fourth was back to slightly brisk—an exercise in pleasantness. 

Handel’s offering had a slow, almost somber opening followed by a second movement that was brisk, quick, and delightful, with a certain fullness at times. The rest of the movements sort of blended together, so what we got was a slower section with a solid feeling, a section that opened with the violas (which seemed like a slight rarity to me) in a section for the orchestra that was bright without being pushy, and then ending brighter still, though with a subdued sense of fun. 

Geminiani rounded out the second half, just as he had in the first. Once again, movements were hard to figure, so this is a sort of stream of consciousness rambling. After a muscular minor-key opening, there was a shift to a slightly quicker tempo, still with a dense quality to the phrases and sound, and then an even more rapid tempo. There was a fun juxtaposition of tempos—possibly theme and variations again? Whatever it was, it was a heck of a lot of fun, and a wonderful way to end an outdoor concert on a pretty near perfect summer evening. I even saw lightning bugs as I left the park.

ConcertMeister

Gotham Early Music Scene – Midtown Concerts – 6/23/22

 Concordian Dawn – Medieval Song from Aristotle to Opera

Kristina Boerger, soprano; Niccolo Seligmann, vielle; Christopher Preston Thompson, tenor & medieval harp, artistic director

Have I bored you to tears yet? If not …

Phebi claro nondum orto iubare – anonymous – reconstructed by C.P. Thompson
Qui sofrir s’en pogues – Aimeric de Peguilhan (troubadour, fl. 1170–1221)
En greu pantais m’a tengut longamen – Aimeric de Peguilhan
Qui bien aimme a tart oublie (Lay de plour) – Guillaume de Machaut (1300–1377)
Ensement com la panthere – anonymous
Can lo boschatges es floritz – Bernart de Ventadorn (troubadour, fl. 1147–1180)
Nés qu’on porroit les estoilles nombrer (ballade, Le livre du Voir dit) – Guillaume de Machaut

I have actually sung Machaut and anonymous. Have I bored you to tears yet? If not …

Here’s the thing. I like early music, and I understand that not everyone does. The style of music, performance, and interpretation of early music styles is a work in progress. We really don’t know what it sounded like then. We have guidance from the scores—but that’s just what it is, guidance.

This performance was enjoyable for me, even with the compositional styles and performance styles being very similar from piece to piece. I have a page of scribbled descriptions, but they’re not really worth deciphering/transcribing. Both of the vocalists acquitted themselves very well. Both of the instrumentalists acquitted themselves very well.

Would I go again? Yes. 

Alas, next Thursday (6/30/22) is the last Midtown Concert until autumn. Will I go in autumn? Most likely, yes.

For the record, a medieval harp is a small hand-held harp; no pedals involved. I did a quick internet search on ‘vielle’ and got various results. The instrument I saw looked to be an early iteration of what would evolve into the cello. I’m still learning!

ConcertMeister

Make Music NY (6/21/22)

Free music in NYC. What’s not to love? As usual, I set rather lofty goals for myself that I did not actually achieve. My plans for Marcus Garvey Park were thwarted by missed scheduling on my part. My attendance at the Apollo theater worked, but wasn’t all that interesting to me—hip-hop/rap, mostly recordings mixed by DJs. But it was under the iconic marquee of the Apollo! Now I just have to get inside somehow. OK, that’s what didn’t work. Here’s what did.

Carnival of the Animals by Camille Saint-Saëns was the first work I heard, after some speechifying praising MMNY and its predecessor Fête de la Musique, begun 40 years ago in Paris. MMNY is a paltry 16 years old. But oh, the music. I have heard many recordings and iterations/scorings of the Saint-Saëns. This was my first live hearing, and it was scored for two pianos, with a few soloists. Interestingly, each of the miniature 15 movements was preceded with the reading of a poem, some of which were in French. I took notes, and was darned close to nailing the movements. I confirmed that by requesting a printed program after the performance. Jennifer Undercofler and Mina Kim (pianos), Johannes Pfannkuch (tuba), Nicolas Duchamp, (flute), and Yves Dhar (cello).

Here are the 15 movements, in order: Introduction, Roosters, Marche Royale du Lion, Horses, Tortoises (a slo-mo version of Offenbach’s Can-Can), Elephant (with tuba soloist), Kangaroos, Aquarium, Mules (including hee-haw sounds, which make a reappearance in the Finale), Cuckoo (with a two-note motif in the piano), Volière (with solo flutist), Pianistes (slightly at odds with each other (on purpose)), Fossils, The Swan (famous as a cello solo with the duo pianos), and Finale. I thoroughly enjoyed this.

The readers included French Ambassador Philippe Étienne as well as Philippe Petit (of high wire fame—I recognized him but didn’t realize who he actually was until I requested the printed program). How cool was this?

The Saint-Saëns was followed by a three-movement Sonata for Flute and Piano by Francis Poulenc. Both this and Carnival of the Animals suffered slightly because of their outdoors/touristy location in Battery Park—think ship horns and helicopters—but the whole experience was still great.

My last entertainment of the day was Sousapalooza, a fun grouping of pick-up musicians (who had to register in advance) playing Sousa marches. Because it was not a planned group, the balance was not exactly perfect. Four flutes and one piccolo (with one flutist also doubling on piccolo), three (I think) clarinets, two trumpets, two saxophones, two trombones, one tuba, and (oddly) one string bass. But it worked! I realized toward the end of the first march on the program that a bass drum and cymbals would have been perfect additions. Alas, you only get the folks who signed up to play.

Once again, there was no printed program, so I listened as hard as I could as the conductor, Oscar Wiley Thorp (I gleaned this from a website), set up each four-piece set. I did not get all of the names of the pieces. Here’s what I got: 1. [ ], 2. [ ], 3. Hands Across the Sea, 4. Liberty Bell.
5. Washington Post March, 6. Manhattan Beach, 7. Thunderer, 8. [This one was slower, in a minor key, chorale-like, and altogether lovely].
The finale was—and why not?—The Stars and Stripes Forever.

OK, they were Sousa marches, played by well-intentioned amateurs. And that was great. I was reminded of (and heard someone else compare it to) the onstage musicians in The Music Man. Was everything perfectly in tune? No. Was everything perfectly balanced? No. Was everything perfectly fun? A resounding yes!

Because I was so taken with #8 on the program, I asked the conductor about it after the concert. It’s called In Memoriam, and was composed in 1881 to honor the death of President Garfield. I love learning more about, and hearing, new-to-me music. And all of this was for free in NYC.

ConcertMeister

Quartet Salonnières (6/16/22)

 1772: Diversion and Divergence

Aniela Eddy, Natalie Rose Kress, & Rebecca Nelson ~ violin, viola; Cullen O’Neil ~ violoncello

Divertimento in D Major – Allegro, Andante, Presto – W.A. Mozart (1756–1791)
Quartet, Op. 5, No. 5b in G minor – Larghetto, Allegro Spiritoso, Andantino Grazioso, Tempo di Menuetto – F.X. Richter (1709–1789)
Quartet, Op. 20, No. 1 – Allegro moderato, Menuetto un poco allegretto, Affetuoso é sostenuto, Presto – F.J. Haydn (1732–1809

Here’s the theory. All of these works were written/performed in 1772. This is most likely not true. Now, on to the music.

Mozart’s piece was written when he was sixteen years old. Brilliant, but youthful. The first movement was brisk, sunny, and bright. It chugged along nicely. The second was gentle, with individual lines featured here. After a quiet start, the third movement was quick and lively, yet a bit restrained. In an interesting note, it seemed as though the repeated section that ended the piece was a touch faster than its first appearance.

After a shift in personnel (see violin/viola, above) and re-tuning (see violin/viola, above), the first movement of the Richter was effectively haunting—somewhat sad, bordering on melancholy, but in a good way, somehow. A+, in my book. The second movement was quicker in tempo, but still with a weighty feel to it. A repeated unison phrase in the four strings acted as an anchor for the harmonies that followed. And the movement had a very cute ending. The third had an elegant but somber quality, one that I found pleasant despite its length. The dance-like fourth movement menuetto (d’oh!) had a slightly subdued feeling. The middle section in a major key was a lot of fun, while the return to minor was quite effective.

A personnel switch and re-tuning preceded the final work on the program. The first movement of the Haydn was gentle and pleasant, and also made use of unison phrases. Oddly, I wanted to like it better than I did. The second movement was quicker but still had a weighty feel to it. One particular unison phrase acted as an anchor between the intricate harmonies that followed. The third movement had an elegant but somber quality that I liked. A subdued dance-like fourth movement had a middle section in a major key that was a lot of fun. The return to minor, to end the piece, was very effective.

ConcertMeister

The Knights (6/14/22)
Naumburg Bandshell Concert (6/14/22)

Kreutzings (2020) – Colin Jacobsen (1978–)
Violin Sonata No. 9 “Kreutzer Sonata” Op. 47 (1803) – Ludwig van Beethoven, (1770–1827)
Adagio sostenuto – Presto; Andante con variazioni; Finale – Presto
Stride (2020) – Anna Clyne (1980–)
String Quartet No. 1, “Kreutzer Sonata” (1923) – Leoš Janáček (1854–1928); original concept & arr. by Eric Jacobsen, orchestration by Michael P. Atkinson
Adagio – Con moto; Con moto; Con moto – Vivo – Andante; Con moto – Adagio – Più mosso

If you’re noticing Kreutzer popping up, you’re quite right. All four pieces have a link to Kreutzer, a violinist in Beethoven’s time. The first work was a tribute to Kreutzer. The second was an arrangement of Beethoven’s Kreutzer violin/piano sonata but for orchestra (though Kreutzer never played it in public). The third was Ms. Clyne’s allusion to Beethoven’s Pathétique sonata, and the fourth work was Eric Jacobsen’s arrangement of Janáček’s work orchestrated by Michael P. Atkinson. Are you confused yet? So was I, so I concentrated on the glorious music and the glorious setting.

The first piece had a playful opening, with some mystery, then picked up tempo and was just a lot of fun. It was modern and rhythmic, but also very enjoyable to listen to.

In the second piece, after a brief violin solo, the orchestra joined in followed by a little bit of back and forth that was solemn, though not somber. Next the tempo picked up, adding some excitement. There was a bit of a folk/gypsy feel alternating with sections of smoother legato beauty. The movement had plenty of richness and grandeur, as well, and ended with a flourish. The second movement had a brief orchestral opening and then the solo violin joined in, sounding both calm and pretty. A playful section followed (and it was nice of the birds to join in!). The different variations were interesting, even if they sort of went on and on. The final variation effectively tugged at the heartstrings. And then off to the races!—in fact, it sounded as if the third movement could have been a hunting theme. The whole movement was pretty much a romp, with a few breathers thrown in for good measure. After a brief lull, see flourish, above.

This third work was a little more modern sounding than the earlier piece on the program that was also composed in 2020. While interesting, and not off-putting, it didn't actually hold my interest too well. The paraphrases from Beethoven's Pathétique sonata were fun to hear, probably only because they were recognizable to me.

This fourth was Janáček via Tolstoy via Beethoven. I’m not making this up, you know:
(Thank you, Wikipedia.) Beethoven's heroic sonata for violin and piano, Tolstoy's dark and disturbing novella, and Leos Janáček’s intensely descriptive and often frenetic first string quartet are all linked by the same name: the Kreutzer Sonata.

NB. I'm not breaking this one down movement by movement because they all seemed to blur together to me. There were intriguing sounds and interpretations from the get-go, including a lovely tune and journey (and, once again, the birds in the park added great sound to the instrumentalists, especially to the woodwinds). I liked this a lot, as it was dramatic without going overboard, and included a quiet ending. The motion part of each 'con moto' phrase was as a reply to a slower section that preceded it. That is, until it went to all motion all the time. I don't particularly like using this term, but the entire piece really was quite cinematic at times. I thoroughly enjoyed it.

There was a brief encore, actually more of a lagniappe. Since it was announced from the stage, my recollection is a bit sketchy. Brillou? (Not coming up in a rudimentary search) It featured a penny whistle as the solo instrument, and sounded to me like it was perhaps a folk song, or based on one. It was just OK in my book.

ConcertMeister