Boston Symphony Chamber Players
Quartet in F for oboe, violin, viola, and cello, K.370 (1781) – I. Allegro,
II. Adagio, III Rondeau. Allegro – W. A. Mozart (1756–1791)
John Ferrillo, oboe; Malcolm Lowe, violin; Steven Ansell, viola; Jules Eskin, cello
Quintet for Winds, Op. 43 (1922) – Allegro ben moderato, II. Menuet,
III. Praeludium (Adagio)—Tema con variazioni – Carl Nielsen (1865–1931)
Elizabeth Rowe, flute; Ferrillo, oboe; William R. Hudgins, clarinet; Richard Svoboda, bassoon; James Sommerville, horn
Serenade No. 1 in D, Op. 11 (1857–58), arranged for chamber ensemble by
Alan Boustead – I. Allegro molto, II. Scherzo: Allegro non troppo; Trio: Poco piú mosso, III. Adagio non troppo, IV. Menuetto I; Menuetto II, V. Scherzo: Allegro,
VI. Rondo: Allegro – Johannes Brahms (1833–1897)
Rowe, flute; Hudgins, clarinet; Michael Wayne, clarinet; Svoboda, bassoon; Sommerville, horn; Lowe, violin; Ansell, viola; Eskin, cello; Edwin Barker, double bass
First things first, there was no rain! Tuesday evening also saw the debut of the Boston Symphony Chamber Players at the Naumburg Orchestral Concerts. In general, the balance and mixing of the amplified sound was good—a bumpy start but it smoothed out quickly enough. Unfortunately, there was some static, or other white noise, during the Brahms Serenade that marred the sound a little bit. And that’s it for any quibbling.
The Mozart started out jaunty, in a reserved way; it sounded exactly like the evening, pleasant and enjoyable. After some retuning (hey, no rain but still plenty of humidity), the second movement started in a slower tempo with the three string players as a sort of background chorus for the oboe, although there was a feeling of more equality as the movement progressed. The third movement was in a bright tempo and allowed more of a chance for the oboe to shine. There was enough of a distinct character to the entire work to make it enjoyable for me (I'm not a huge Mozart fan).
Nielsen’s Quintet, described in the program notes as a serenade, had a slightly airy quality at the beginning, with some added oomph from the horn. At times it perked along, with more modern sounding harmonies, yet still was easy to listen to. The second movement opened with a clarinet/flute duet, eventually joined by the horn. A flute/oboe duet with horn added followed, leading to the full quintet bouncing some nice tunes back and forth. The Praeludium followed—a slow staid opening with deeper modern harmonies, and then a chorale-like section laying out the theme. The variations, in a slightly segmented way, were just that—varied in tempo, dynamics, intensity, and more modern harmonies—ending with a return to the chorale. I liked it a lot.
The overall feeling of the Brahms was a hint of Scottish flavor. Originally scored as a nonet, Brahms later reworked it for orchestra. This arrangement was a return to a nonet. The first movement had a bit of a folk dance flavor, and the nonet had enough heft to seem like a small orchestra. As a side note, it was lovely to hear a serenade in an outdoor setting while watching fireflies flitting by. The second movement was darker in tone but still pretty, while the third had a quiet opening that was gentle, even as more instruments joined in. The two menuets did not seem all that distinct to me; the scherzo that followed was much fuller. The rondo at the end was not quite a romp but it did end the piece, and the concert, with a nice flourish. I had a wonderful evening, especially as my umbrella was not involved! Kudos to the Boston Symphony Chamber Players for providing such a treat—and thanks, as always, to the Naumburg organization.
ConcertMeister
Thursday, July 16, 2015
Monday, July 13, 2015
Roach All-Star Rareties [sic] (7/11/15)
Saturday found me at the movies—the silent movies, that is. I saw five silents from the Hal Roach studio, starring Toto (not the one you’re thinking of), Will Rogers, Charles Murray, Lucien Littlefield, Arthur Stone, and Clyde Cook. Not exactly household names, but they made some very funny movies.
Do Husbands Deceive? (1918) was essentially a vehicle for Toto, as a pint-sized, pseudo-Keystone Kop, who got into all types of shenanigans as he ended up assisting and then thwarting a burglar. The print, from the Library of Congress, as were all five of Saturday’s showings, had some quality issues and ended rather abruptly, but it was very interesting to see Toto. Apparently, in real life he was quite an eccentric—even having a clause in his contract that said, “Toto will not have to jump in the water at any time.” Kudos to Steve Massa for the informative and well-written program notes, and to Ben Model for the superb live piano accompaniments.
Jus’ Passin’ Through (1923) starred Will Rogers as a tramp who arrived via train in a town that prided itself on the fact that no tramps were allowed. It turns out that he arrived on the day before Thanksgiving, and the town was providing a special meal for all of the men in jail. So Will sets out to get himself arrested but that doesn’t work out too well, and he gets on the bad side of the sheriff. Then, as fate would have it, he gets invited to the sheriff's house for Thanksgiving dinner because they had thirteen people at table and that was just too unlucky. The sheriff returns, Will skedaddles with his food, and finally gets to eat it on the next train out of town.
Somewhere in Somewhere (1925) was pretty funny, for a story about two hapless soldiers in the trenches during World War I. The special effects were interesting to see, involving mortar shells, explosions, and dirigibles. At one point, our sad sacks were sitting atop what was left of a brick building. A mortar shell hits the building, and the top shifts to the right. The next shell tilts it back to just about even keel, and then the third destroys the building and sets the soldiers soaring.
Sherlock Sleuth (1925) had Arthur Stone as a house detective in a fancy-schmancy hotel. Unfortunately, there was also a burglar casing the joint, assisted by his moll who worked her charms on our detective hero. A very funny bit involved a dog tearing a hole in the moll’s stocking and stealing a wad of cash, depositing it into our hero's hat (the dog was retrieving the hat—hey, it’s a slapstick comedy!), and returning the hat and the cash to our hero. A masked ball at the hotel creates lots of mayhem, including when our hero, in a lion costume, is confronted by a real live lion. All ends well, as the hero catches the crooks, but only after the lion has driven a paddy wagon through the countryside (hey, it’s a slapstick comedy!).
Starvation Blues (1925) has two itinerant musicians trying to scrape up some dough in the middle of winter. Most of the funny stuff involves the winter weather—massive amounts of snow falling off of roofs and building awnings, one of our musicians becoming a human popsicle, and a fire hydrant gushing water (and a cop) upwards and then freezing solid, with the cop atop the frozen tower.
All in all, a fun and funny afternoon.
ConcertMeister
Do Husbands Deceive? (1918) was essentially a vehicle for Toto, as a pint-sized, pseudo-Keystone Kop, who got into all types of shenanigans as he ended up assisting and then thwarting a burglar. The print, from the Library of Congress, as were all five of Saturday’s showings, had some quality issues and ended rather abruptly, but it was very interesting to see Toto. Apparently, in real life he was quite an eccentric—even having a clause in his contract that said, “Toto will not have to jump in the water at any time.” Kudos to Steve Massa for the informative and well-written program notes, and to Ben Model for the superb live piano accompaniments.
Jus’ Passin’ Through (1923) starred Will Rogers as a tramp who arrived via train in a town that prided itself on the fact that no tramps were allowed. It turns out that he arrived on the day before Thanksgiving, and the town was providing a special meal for all of the men in jail. So Will sets out to get himself arrested but that doesn’t work out too well, and he gets on the bad side of the sheriff. Then, as fate would have it, he gets invited to the sheriff's house for Thanksgiving dinner because they had thirteen people at table and that was just too unlucky. The sheriff returns, Will skedaddles with his food, and finally gets to eat it on the next train out of town.
Somewhere in Somewhere (1925) was pretty funny, for a story about two hapless soldiers in the trenches during World War I. The special effects were interesting to see, involving mortar shells, explosions, and dirigibles. At one point, our sad sacks were sitting atop what was left of a brick building. A mortar shell hits the building, and the top shifts to the right. The next shell tilts it back to just about even keel, and then the third destroys the building and sets the soldiers soaring.
Sherlock Sleuth (1925) had Arthur Stone as a house detective in a fancy-schmancy hotel. Unfortunately, there was also a burglar casing the joint, assisted by his moll who worked her charms on our detective hero. A very funny bit involved a dog tearing a hole in the moll’s stocking and stealing a wad of cash, depositing it into our hero's hat (the dog was retrieving the hat—hey, it’s a slapstick comedy!), and returning the hat and the cash to our hero. A masked ball at the hotel creates lots of mayhem, including when our hero, in a lion costume, is confronted by a real live lion. All ends well, as the hero catches the crooks, but only after the lion has driven a paddy wagon through the countryside (hey, it’s a slapstick comedy!).
Starvation Blues (1925) has two itinerant musicians trying to scrape up some dough in the middle of winter. Most of the funny stuff involves the winter weather—massive amounts of snow falling off of roofs and building awnings, one of our musicians becoming a human popsicle, and a fire hydrant gushing water (and a cop) upwards and then freezing solid, with the cop atop the frozen tower.
All in all, a fun and funny afternoon.
ConcertMeister
Monday, July 6, 2015
A Walking Weekend (7/3–5/15)
For the long holiday weekend, I thought I’d do a couple of things not concert related. On Friday, I caught one of the last days of an exhibit at the American Folk Art Museum, located in the Lincoln Center area. This free museum (donations always gladly accepted) is small and easy to amble through. Many of the interesting works (sorry, the exhibit is now closed) were created by artists who had been in mental or rehabilitation institutions. Quite a few of the works were incredibly detailed, and most, if not all of the artists, as far as I can remember, were self-taught. This is a great place to check out if you have a little bit of time on your hands. I’ve pretty much enjoyed every exhibit I’ve seen there.
On Saturday, I was most definitely not going to brave the long, long hours and huge, huge crowds in order to ooh and ahh for twenty to twenty-five minutes. And I was not going to fire up a grill for a burger or two, so I decided on a walking tour of outdoor art on Randall’s Island. I can easily get there via a bridge that crosses the Harlem River at 103rd Street. FLOW 2015 presented installations by five artists: Rica Takashima(El Barrio Comes in All Colors, Shapes and Sizes), Sharon Ma (hello), Nicholas Fraser (All Consuming), David Wilson (Etherwave Architecture #1), and Rob Swainston (Who Owns the Sky?). I’ve wandered FLOW in the past and found myself somewhat underwhelmed; the 2015 version broke out of that mold. All five pieces were interesting enough to hold my attention.
On Sunday, I went over to the Hudson River at 26th Street for a Waterfront Walking Tour. I missed the very beginning of the tour due to a slow cross-town bus (my brother and sister will be aghast—aghast, I tell you—to know that I was late!), but I easily caught up with the group. This was the first of many iterations of this tour, and you can check on them at the Hudson River Park website. Because it was the first tour of the season, it was slightly disorganized and scattered. As a result, I might give the tour one more try later during the summer—both to catch the entire thing and to see what kinds of improvements will have been made.
All three of my excursions were relatively short in duration, though you can always spend more time if you’d like at the Folk Museum or at FLOW. And both FLOW and the Waterfront Walking Tour can be combined with other outdoor activities since they both take place in parks. Somehow, they turned out to be just the right things for me to do as part of my long weekend.
ConcertMeister
On Saturday, I was most definitely not going to brave the long, long hours and huge, huge crowds in order to ooh and ahh for twenty to twenty-five minutes. And I was not going to fire up a grill for a burger or two, so I decided on a walking tour of outdoor art on Randall’s Island. I can easily get there via a bridge that crosses the Harlem River at 103rd Street. FLOW 2015 presented installations by five artists: Rica Takashima(El Barrio Comes in All Colors, Shapes and Sizes), Sharon Ma (hello), Nicholas Fraser (All Consuming), David Wilson (Etherwave Architecture #1), and Rob Swainston (Who Owns the Sky?). I’ve wandered FLOW in the past and found myself somewhat underwhelmed; the 2015 version broke out of that mold. All five pieces were interesting enough to hold my attention.
On Sunday, I went over to the Hudson River at 26th Street for a Waterfront Walking Tour. I missed the very beginning of the tour due to a slow cross-town bus (my brother and sister will be aghast—aghast, I tell you—to know that I was late!), but I easily caught up with the group. This was the first of many iterations of this tour, and you can check on them at the Hudson River Park website. Because it was the first tour of the season, it was slightly disorganized and scattered. As a result, I might give the tour one more try later during the summer—both to catch the entire thing and to see what kinds of improvements will have been made.
All three of my excursions were relatively short in duration, though you can always spend more time if you’d like at the Folk Museum or at FLOW. And both FLOW and the Waterfront Walking Tour can be combined with other outdoor activities since they both take place in parks. Somehow, they turned out to be just the right things for me to do as part of my long weekend.
ConcertMeister
Thursday, July 2, 2015
Naumburg (No. 2 of 5) (6/30/15)
pre-concert sprinkles
a freshening of the breeze
thunderstorms held off
When the sprinkles started Tuesday evening at the Naumburg Orchestral Concert presentation of Ensemble LPR with Simone Dinnerstein, piano, I was fearful that the weather would be a repeat of last Tuesday. Fortunately, we heard the entire concert, albeit with some slight dampness. Ensemble LPR is an assemblage of musicians associated with the downtown eclectic venue (Le) Poisson Rouge, hence LPR.
Shaker Loops (1983): I. Shaking and Trembling; II. Hymning Slews;
III. Loops and Verses; IV. A Final Shaking – John Adams (1947–)
Piano Concerto No. 23 in A, K. 488 (1786): I Allegro; II. Adagio;
III. Allegro assai – W. A. Mozart (1756–1791)
Verklärte Nacht (Transfigured Night), Op. 4 (1899, revised 1943):
I. Sehr langsam; II. Etwas bewegter; III. Schwer betont; IV. Sehr breit und langsam; V. Sehr ruhig – Arnold Schoenberg (1874–1951)
Solstice (1980) World Premiere – David Handler
As announced from the stage by Elliott Forrest of WQXR (they’re broadcasting all five Naumburg concerts live), Shaker Loops has several meanings and implications—shaker being some of the sounds stringed instruments can make, loops being repetitious sounds, and religious connotations being congregation members being moved to actually physically move/shake. A work for string orchestra played here without a conductor, I started trying to make sense of each individual movement, but they blended together too much for me to be aware of the separation. The sounds were repetitive in a minimalist way, but easy to listen to, with slight variations in musical phrases that also included shaded dynamics. One slow and relaxed section had individual notes coming forward but not quite creating tunes. Overall, I found the work to be more “new age-y” than minimalist, and blurred in terms of effect.
The Mozart was my favorite part of the evening. Scored for piano, strings, flute, clarinets, bassoons, and horns, the piece was also performed without a conductor. Ms. Dinnerstein played very well, though I was slightly surprised that she played from a score. (It may have been for reference only; I didn’t really see her using it all that much.) The first movement was sweet and pleasant, with a good balance between orchestra and soloist. It had a nice heft to it that I really appreciated, including hints at late Classical, early Romantic style. The second movement was solid and signified and quite beautiful, and then segued into the third, which was graceful and fun. There were nicely shaded dynamics and tempos that ended up being closer to the predictable and routine Mozart that is not always my favorite, but the entire work was very, very enjoyable.
While Schoenberg’s composition has five movements listed, I was hard pressed to hear the distinctions. Lo and behold, when I did a quick online search to double check diacritical marks, I saw that the original was a one-movement string sextet—the version we heard was the 1943 revision to Schoenberg’s conversion of it to a piece for string orchestra. It began with a sort of a brooding feel, creating a sense of drama. It was modern sounding without being overbearingly so. A rocking rhythmic section followed, with shifting moods and tempos. Throughout, I was reminded of a noir film score, with the drama heightened and brought to the forefront from time to time. It’s a programmatic score in that it’s based on a poem, though I did not really get the programmatic elements. I enjoyed it but was not really wowed by it.
Mr. Handler’s piece had actual program notes describing the piece as being “scored for a divided or double string orchestra [that] explores the polarity and ultimately the congruity of light and dark, sacred and profane.” I got the divided orchestra part, but that was about it. But hey, I heard a world premiere! (Even if that word was misused in the program, as premier, and the title of the piece was misspelled, as Solstic.) Weather permitting, the next three Naumburg concerts are already on my calendar.
ConcertMeister
a freshening of the breeze
thunderstorms held off
When the sprinkles started Tuesday evening at the Naumburg Orchestral Concert presentation of Ensemble LPR with Simone Dinnerstein, piano, I was fearful that the weather would be a repeat of last Tuesday. Fortunately, we heard the entire concert, albeit with some slight dampness. Ensemble LPR is an assemblage of musicians associated with the downtown eclectic venue (Le) Poisson Rouge, hence LPR.
Shaker Loops (1983): I. Shaking and Trembling; II. Hymning Slews;
III. Loops and Verses; IV. A Final Shaking – John Adams (1947–)
Piano Concerto No. 23 in A, K. 488 (1786): I Allegro; II. Adagio;
III. Allegro assai – W. A. Mozart (1756–1791)
Verklärte Nacht (Transfigured Night), Op. 4 (1899, revised 1943):
I. Sehr langsam; II. Etwas bewegter; III. Schwer betont; IV. Sehr breit und langsam; V. Sehr ruhig – Arnold Schoenberg (1874–1951)
Solstice (1980) World Premiere – David Handler
As announced from the stage by Elliott Forrest of WQXR (they’re broadcasting all five Naumburg concerts live), Shaker Loops has several meanings and implications—shaker being some of the sounds stringed instruments can make, loops being repetitious sounds, and religious connotations being congregation members being moved to actually physically move/shake. A work for string orchestra played here without a conductor, I started trying to make sense of each individual movement, but they blended together too much for me to be aware of the separation. The sounds were repetitive in a minimalist way, but easy to listen to, with slight variations in musical phrases that also included shaded dynamics. One slow and relaxed section had individual notes coming forward but not quite creating tunes. Overall, I found the work to be more “new age-y” than minimalist, and blurred in terms of effect.
The Mozart was my favorite part of the evening. Scored for piano, strings, flute, clarinets, bassoons, and horns, the piece was also performed without a conductor. Ms. Dinnerstein played very well, though I was slightly surprised that she played from a score. (It may have been for reference only; I didn’t really see her using it all that much.) The first movement was sweet and pleasant, with a good balance between orchestra and soloist. It had a nice heft to it that I really appreciated, including hints at late Classical, early Romantic style. The second movement was solid and signified and quite beautiful, and then segued into the third, which was graceful and fun. There were nicely shaded dynamics and tempos that ended up being closer to the predictable and routine Mozart that is not always my favorite, but the entire work was very, very enjoyable.
While Schoenberg’s composition has five movements listed, I was hard pressed to hear the distinctions. Lo and behold, when I did a quick online search to double check diacritical marks, I saw that the original was a one-movement string sextet—the version we heard was the 1943 revision to Schoenberg’s conversion of it to a piece for string orchestra. It began with a sort of a brooding feel, creating a sense of drama. It was modern sounding without being overbearingly so. A rocking rhythmic section followed, with shifting moods and tempos. Throughout, I was reminded of a noir film score, with the drama heightened and brought to the forefront from time to time. It’s a programmatic score in that it’s based on a poem, though I did not really get the programmatic elements. I enjoyed it but was not really wowed by it.
Mr. Handler’s piece had actual program notes describing the piece as being “scored for a divided or double string orchestra [that] explores the polarity and ultimately the congruity of light and dark, sacred and profane.” I got the divided orchestra part, but that was about it. But hey, I heard a world premiere! (Even if that word was misused in the program, as premier, and the title of the piece was misspelled, as Solstic.) Weather permitting, the next three Naumburg concerts are already on my calendar.
ConcertMeister
Monday, June 29, 2015
Naumburg Orchestral Concerts 2015 (6/23/15)
This was the opening concert of their 110th season! And, no, I have not attended all 110 years, but I think I’ve been going for four or five seasons. Because the weather created problems, the first concert of the season was rain shortened. The Knights, a Brooklyn-based orchestral collective (though they are now well established far beyond Brooklyn), presented a varied and interesting program. During the setup, there were showers, bordering on steady rain, but nothing really heavy. Though I didn’t see any lightning, we were asked to take cover under the Bethesda Terrace. In what turned out to be a clever bit of programming, the string quintet that was scheduled for the second half of the program was performed on the covered terrace.
Chinese Folk Songs (1998) – Zhou Long (1953–)
I. Driving the mule team (Shaanxi); II. The flowing stream (Yunnan); III. A single bamboo can easily bend (Hunan); IV. Lan hua-hua (Shaanbei) – Colin Jacobsen & Ariana Kim, violin; Nicholas Cords, viola; Caitlin Sullivan, cello;
Shawn Conley, bass
The first movement had sort of clip-clop sounds, reminiscent of Aaron Copland’s western-themed music, paired with Asian scales and intervals, painting a pretty aural picture. The flowing stream had undulating string writing that also seemed to be creating a real sense of moving water. Movements three and four followed along nicely, though my memory at this time can’t really recall any specifics.
By the time the piece ended, the weather had improved and the show went on, although Tabula Rasa (1977) by Arvo Pärt (1935–) was not performed, and neither were three of the four movements of a Ligeti piece.
Five German Dances, D.90, for String Orchestra (1814) –
Franz Schubert (1797–1828)
Czech Suite, Op.39, B.93 D Major (1879) – Antonin Dvořák (1841–1904)
I. Preludium (Pastorale): Allegro moderato; II. Polka: Allegretto grazioso;
III. Sousedská (Minuetto): Allegro giusto; IV. Romance: Andante con moto;
V. Finále (Furiant): Presto
Concert Romanesc (1951) – Geörgy Ligeti (1923–2006)
IV. Molto Vivace
The Schubert dances were played conductorless, as often happens with The Knights. All of the dances were in the style of a Ländler, a specific style of a waltz-like German dance. They were graceful, and lovely to hear. Dvořák’s suite was also very enjoyable. The Pastorale was in a perfect setting in the middle of Central Park, and it was nice of the tweeting (literally!) birds to join in. The Polka was a bit of a romp, without being too rambunctious. The Sousedská was also a lot of fun, while the Romance was a pleasant, softening change of pace. After some weather-related tuning, the Finále was a rousing romp. The real rambunctiousness, though, took place in the Ligeti Molto vivace, with its wasp-like string sounds and pops of percussion, along with folk song themes.
The Knights, with Eric Jacobsen conducting the Dvořák and Ligeti, made the best of weather-shortened evening, and we were all the better for it. Kudos also to Jeff Spurgeon and the WQXR team (105.9FM) for broadcasting these concerts live.
ConcertMeister
Chinese Folk Songs (1998) – Zhou Long (1953–)
I. Driving the mule team (Shaanxi); II. The flowing stream (Yunnan); III. A single bamboo can easily bend (Hunan); IV. Lan hua-hua (Shaanbei) – Colin Jacobsen & Ariana Kim, violin; Nicholas Cords, viola; Caitlin Sullivan, cello;
Shawn Conley, bass
The first movement had sort of clip-clop sounds, reminiscent of Aaron Copland’s western-themed music, paired with Asian scales and intervals, painting a pretty aural picture. The flowing stream had undulating string writing that also seemed to be creating a real sense of moving water. Movements three and four followed along nicely, though my memory at this time can’t really recall any specifics.
By the time the piece ended, the weather had improved and the show went on, although Tabula Rasa (1977) by Arvo Pärt (1935–) was not performed, and neither were three of the four movements of a Ligeti piece.
Five German Dances, D.90, for String Orchestra (1814) –
Franz Schubert (1797–1828)
Czech Suite, Op.39, B.93 D Major (1879) – Antonin Dvořák (1841–1904)
I. Preludium (Pastorale): Allegro moderato; II. Polka: Allegretto grazioso;
III. Sousedská (Minuetto): Allegro giusto; IV. Romance: Andante con moto;
V. Finále (Furiant): Presto
Concert Romanesc (1951) – Geörgy Ligeti (1923–2006)
IV. Molto Vivace
The Schubert dances were played conductorless, as often happens with The Knights. All of the dances were in the style of a Ländler, a specific style of a waltz-like German dance. They were graceful, and lovely to hear. Dvořák’s suite was also very enjoyable. The Pastorale was in a perfect setting in the middle of Central Park, and it was nice of the tweeting (literally!) birds to join in. The Polka was a bit of a romp, without being too rambunctious. The Sousedská was also a lot of fun, while the Romance was a pleasant, softening change of pace. After some weather-related tuning, the Finále was a rousing romp. The real rambunctiousness, though, took place in the Ligeti Molto vivace, with its wasp-like string sounds and pops of percussion, along with folk song themes.
The Knights, with Eric Jacobsen conducting the Dvořák and Ligeti, made the best of weather-shortened evening, and we were all the better for it. Kudos also to Jeff Spurgeon and the WQXR team (105.9FM) for broadcasting these concerts live.
ConcertMeister
Thursday, June 25, 2015
Capsule Comments (6/22/15)
A blogger with home computer problems is a bit of a bust, and that’s where ConcertMeister finds himself these days. As a result, I’m going to give brief comments on what I’ve been up to, hoping to flesh them out more later.
On June 6, The Silent Clowns Film Series presented a novel program—two silent films and two “talkies.” The first, Duck Soup (1927, silent), and the second, Another Fine Mess (1930, talkie), were the exact same story! Both featured Laurel and Hardy, with Hardy playing a minor role in Duck Soup but graduating to a major role in Another Fine Mess, since L&H were a better established team by 1930. The third film, Chickens Come Home (1931, talkie), and the fourth,
Love ’Em and Weep (1927, silent), were the exact same story! And both featured L&H again. It was a lot of fun seeing the evolution of L&H as a team as well as seeing the evolution of silents into talkies. Ben Model provided excellent accompaniment to the silents, once again.
June 13 found me at a chamber music concert performed by Vista Lirica:
Beth Levin, piano; Samuel Magill, cello; Lucian Rinando, flute; and
Neil Rynston, clarinet.
Sonata for cello and piano (1915) – Claude Debussy
4 Pieces for Clarinet and Piano, Op. 5 (1911) – Alban Berg
Trio da camera for flute, cello and piano, Op. 48 (1926) – Gabriel Pierné
Trio in a-minor for clarinet, cello and piano, Op. 114 – Johannes Brahms
My favorite of the bunch was the Debussy, followed by the last two movements of the Brahms (the first two had disparate sections that didn’t really hang together too well, for me). The Berg pieces were modern and atonal but at least they were brief. My notes for the Pierné ended with: In general, nice enough, if not special. I would probably not seek it out again. (And for the record, this was my very first hearing of Pierné.)
June 20 was a piano recital by Charles Jones, an artist I’ve heard, and enjoyed listening to, before. Saturday’s concert was well played and really enjoyable.
Sonata in D Major, Op. 10, No. 3 – Beethoven (1770–1827)
Etude in C Sharp minor, Op. 42, No. 5 – Scriabin (1872–1915)
Sonata No. 5, Op. 53 – Scriabin
Sonata No. 1, Op. 122 – Ginastera (1916–1983)
Etude in A Flat Major, Op. 25, No. 1; Etude in E Major, Op. 10, No. 3; Scherzo in B Flat minor, Op. 31, No. 2 – Chopin (1810–1849)
The Beethoven was solid; the Scriabin, almost but not quite Impressionistic, with a hint of jazz here and there; the Ginastera, very energetic, with a Latin American flavor; and the Chopin, just plain lovely. The two Etudes were familiar to me, while the Scherzo didn’t ring a bell, though it was also very pleasant. I rather liked the fact that, as a well-deserved encore, Mr. Jones repeated the E Major Etude—it was a lot of fun to hear it twice, especially in such close proximity.
June 21 was Make Music NY, a huge event encompassing more than a thousand free concerts throughout the five boroughs of New York. My ahead-of-time planning was less ambitious than what I set out for last year. Still, I heard youngsters from the Chamber Music Center of New York playing—duh!—chamber music in the Lincoln Center area. When I arrived, the group was eight violins, two violas, one cello, one bass, and one flute, though additional personnel arrived and joined during the time I spent there. Different players switched around for different pieces, and the young lady playing the solo violin in Celtic Roots did a great job. Mannheim, by Peter Martin, saw the addition of more strings, and more were added for Mozart. The conductor and one of the organizers lamented the fact that clarinets and a bassoon were missing. Didn’t matter—the kids did just fine with strings, the one flute, and one oboe.
I then traveled up to the Great Hill in Central Park and heard members of the
New York Late-Starters String Orchestra, a group of beginning or recently returning adult players of stringed instruments. Definitely amateurs, not the best techniques in the world, but they played enthusiastically and definitely made music.
Next on the agenda, in a different part of the Great Hill, I took part in a
Mass Appeal Harmonica event. Yep, we affixed our name to a sign-in sheet and were given our very own Hohner ten-hole harmonica. The basics were explained to us, and we were taught Jingle Bells by the leader. It was just easy enough that everybody pretty much got the hang of it, and at the end, we were an enthusiastic amateur band of about thirty playing Jingle Bells all together. A lot of fun!
I had hoped to take in a few performances at Carl Schurz Park, closer to home, but rain sprinkles arrived as I was leaving Central Park, so I decided to call it a day, go home, and become CocktailMeister instead of ...
ConcertMeister.
On June 6, The Silent Clowns Film Series presented a novel program—two silent films and two “talkies.” The first, Duck Soup (1927, silent), and the second, Another Fine Mess (1930, talkie), were the exact same story! Both featured Laurel and Hardy, with Hardy playing a minor role in Duck Soup but graduating to a major role in Another Fine Mess, since L&H were a better established team by 1930. The third film, Chickens Come Home (1931, talkie), and the fourth,
Love ’Em and Weep (1927, silent), were the exact same story! And both featured L&H again. It was a lot of fun seeing the evolution of L&H as a team as well as seeing the evolution of silents into talkies. Ben Model provided excellent accompaniment to the silents, once again.
June 13 found me at a chamber music concert performed by Vista Lirica:
Beth Levin, piano; Samuel Magill, cello; Lucian Rinando, flute; and
Neil Rynston, clarinet.
Sonata for cello and piano (1915) – Claude Debussy
4 Pieces for Clarinet and Piano, Op. 5 (1911) – Alban Berg
Trio da camera for flute, cello and piano, Op. 48 (1926) – Gabriel Pierné
Trio in a-minor for clarinet, cello and piano, Op. 114 – Johannes Brahms
My favorite of the bunch was the Debussy, followed by the last two movements of the Brahms (the first two had disparate sections that didn’t really hang together too well, for me). The Berg pieces were modern and atonal but at least they were brief. My notes for the Pierné ended with: In general, nice enough, if not special. I would probably not seek it out again. (And for the record, this was my very first hearing of Pierné.)
June 20 was a piano recital by Charles Jones, an artist I’ve heard, and enjoyed listening to, before. Saturday’s concert was well played and really enjoyable.
Sonata in D Major, Op. 10, No. 3 – Beethoven (1770–1827)
Etude in C Sharp minor, Op. 42, No. 5 – Scriabin (1872–1915)
Sonata No. 5, Op. 53 – Scriabin
Sonata No. 1, Op. 122 – Ginastera (1916–1983)
Etude in A Flat Major, Op. 25, No. 1; Etude in E Major, Op. 10, No. 3; Scherzo in B Flat minor, Op. 31, No. 2 – Chopin (1810–1849)
The Beethoven was solid; the Scriabin, almost but not quite Impressionistic, with a hint of jazz here and there; the Ginastera, very energetic, with a Latin American flavor; and the Chopin, just plain lovely. The two Etudes were familiar to me, while the Scherzo didn’t ring a bell, though it was also very pleasant. I rather liked the fact that, as a well-deserved encore, Mr. Jones repeated the E Major Etude—it was a lot of fun to hear it twice, especially in such close proximity.
June 21 was Make Music NY, a huge event encompassing more than a thousand free concerts throughout the five boroughs of New York. My ahead-of-time planning was less ambitious than what I set out for last year. Still, I heard youngsters from the Chamber Music Center of New York playing—duh!—chamber music in the Lincoln Center area. When I arrived, the group was eight violins, two violas, one cello, one bass, and one flute, though additional personnel arrived and joined during the time I spent there. Different players switched around for different pieces, and the young lady playing the solo violin in Celtic Roots did a great job. Mannheim, by Peter Martin, saw the addition of more strings, and more were added for Mozart. The conductor and one of the organizers lamented the fact that clarinets and a bassoon were missing. Didn’t matter—the kids did just fine with strings, the one flute, and one oboe.
I then traveled up to the Great Hill in Central Park and heard members of the
New York Late-Starters String Orchestra, a group of beginning or recently returning adult players of stringed instruments. Definitely amateurs, not the best techniques in the world, but they played enthusiastically and definitely made music.
Next on the agenda, in a different part of the Great Hill, I took part in a
Mass Appeal Harmonica event. Yep, we affixed our name to a sign-in sheet and were given our very own Hohner ten-hole harmonica. The basics were explained to us, and we were taught Jingle Bells by the leader. It was just easy enough that everybody pretty much got the hang of it, and at the end, we were an enthusiastic amateur band of about thirty playing Jingle Bells all together. A lot of fun!
I had hoped to take in a few performances at Carl Schurz Park, closer to home, but rain sprinkles arrived as I was leaving Central Park, so I decided to call it a day, go home, and become CocktailMeister instead of ...
ConcertMeister.
Thursday, June 4, 2015
Marilyn and Me (5/30/15)
Horne, not Monroe. And the connection is pretty tenuous at best, but here goes.
On Saturday I heard two song performances — John Brancy, baritone, with
Peter Dugan, piano; and Julia Bullock, soprano, with Renate Rohlfing, piano. The first was outdoors on Governors Island while the second took place at
St. Michael’s Church on the Upper West Side. Here’s the Marilyn Horne connection:
Mr. Brancy is a winner of the 2013 Marilyn Horne Song Competition and
Ms. Bullock’s concert was part of the Marilyn Horne legacy at Carnegie Hall, presented by Carnegie Hall Neighborhood Concerts. Ms. Horne has attended some of the Carnegie Hall Neighborhood Concerts but was not in able to be there this past Saturday.
Mr. Brancy began with popular music, then went classical on us, finishing with some Broadway fare. Night and Day (Cole Porter) was launched by solo piano to start, and then Mr. Brancy entered on stage and added vocals with a gentle jazz touch. As he went into some patter after the song, I got the feeling that I was seeing a breezy outdoor lounge act. But a somewhat classy one. He sang with a nice easy sound, with a bit of power when needed. The rest of the opening set included Nice Work If You Can Get It (George Gershwin), Fascination (Marchetti), Let Me Sing and I’m Happy (Irving Berlin), Stay in My Arms (Marc Blitzstein), and The Nearness of You (Hoagy Carmichael). His patter before Fascination (which he sang in French) recounted a story that Maurice Ravel had written the tune originally, but I did a little internet searching that points to that probably not being the case.
The classical set included Nachtstuck (Schubert), La Barchetta (Reynaldo Hahn), and Mé srdce často v bolesti (Antonin Dvořák). While all three were nice, the piano accompaniments came across a little less clearly than in the earlier popular songs. My best guess is that Mr. Dugan had more leeway there, and that the classical accompaniments were just more subdued, as written. Mr. Dugan played a solo next, a Chopin Revolutionary Etude mashup with the Beatles’ Yesterday. There seemed to be less mashing and just the two pieces side by side, with little interplay.
The Broadway fare consisted of Some Enchanted Evening (Richard Rodgers), Maria (Leonard Bernstein), and Soliloquy (Richard Rodgers). One of the problems with singing outdoors is that, as a singer, you don’t get any real sense of your sound filling the space. As a consequence, some of the high points (range-wise as well as dramatically) were slightly forced. Still, Mr. Brancy is a singer with a fine voice, and it was a fun concert that was well received by the appreciative audience.
Later in the afternoon, Ms. Bullock, a winner of the 2014 Naumburg International Vocal Competition, gave a very well sung concert. Here’s the bare bones of the program (i.e., not every song title mentioned).
She Is Asleep (1943) – John Cage (1912–1992)
La courte paille (1960) – Francis Poulenc (1899–1963)
Selections from The Nursery (1872) – Modest Mussorgsky (1839–1881)
Three songs dating from 1968–1969, 1947, and 1927 – Samuel Barber (1910–1981)
Drei Lieder der Ophelia (1918) – Richard Strauss (1864–1949)
Deep River, arr. Jeremy Siskind (1917) – Harry T. Burleigh (1866–1949)
I Wish I Knew How It Would Feel to Be Free (1952) – Billy Taylor (1921–2010)
The Cage was a slightly odd choice for an opener, with vocal melismas (basically just vowel sounds—no real words) and the piano strings being brushed (with fingernails? I really couldn’t see), plus the pianist making some kind of knocking sound. Not my cup of tea. The first of the seven short Poulenc songs had simple, clear vocal lines, and the piece was very pretty and soothing. The next six alternated between brisk and lyrical, with three sets of each.
The Mussorgsky had a more dramatic setting of the texts, with phrases that were short and choppy at times. I particularly enjoyed Going to Sleep, a take on a child’s bedtime prayers with an appropriate sing-songy setting.
After intermission came the three Barber songs. The third, The Daisies, was my favorite with its clean, clear, and straightforward setting. With the Strauss songs, it was slightly odd to be hearing German translations of Shakespeare texts. Interesting, but slightly odd. Deep River was a nice setting, including slight variations to the recognizable tune, and I Wish I Knew How It Would Feel to Be Free was a strong example of a Civil Rights era song. Ms. Bullock sang an encore which was (I think—she announced it, but her speaking voice did not carry as well as her singing voice) a Josephine Baker song. Mr. Brancy did not sing an encore, since his entire concert was going to be repeated later in the afternoon.
So, on a busy day, I got to hear songs in English, German, French and Czech. And two different, but interesting, concerts. Most enjoyable!
ConcertMeister
On Saturday I heard two song performances — John Brancy, baritone, with
Peter Dugan, piano; and Julia Bullock, soprano, with Renate Rohlfing, piano. The first was outdoors on Governors Island while the second took place at
St. Michael’s Church on the Upper West Side. Here’s the Marilyn Horne connection:
Mr. Brancy is a winner of the 2013 Marilyn Horne Song Competition and
Ms. Bullock’s concert was part of the Marilyn Horne legacy at Carnegie Hall, presented by Carnegie Hall Neighborhood Concerts. Ms. Horne has attended some of the Carnegie Hall Neighborhood Concerts but was not in able to be there this past Saturday.
Mr. Brancy began with popular music, then went classical on us, finishing with some Broadway fare. Night and Day (Cole Porter) was launched by solo piano to start, and then Mr. Brancy entered on stage and added vocals with a gentle jazz touch. As he went into some patter after the song, I got the feeling that I was seeing a breezy outdoor lounge act. But a somewhat classy one. He sang with a nice easy sound, with a bit of power when needed. The rest of the opening set included Nice Work If You Can Get It (George Gershwin), Fascination (Marchetti), Let Me Sing and I’m Happy (Irving Berlin), Stay in My Arms (Marc Blitzstein), and The Nearness of You (Hoagy Carmichael). His patter before Fascination (which he sang in French) recounted a story that Maurice Ravel had written the tune originally, but I did a little internet searching that points to that probably not being the case.
The classical set included Nachtstuck (Schubert), La Barchetta (Reynaldo Hahn), and Mé srdce často v bolesti (Antonin Dvořák). While all three were nice, the piano accompaniments came across a little less clearly than in the earlier popular songs. My best guess is that Mr. Dugan had more leeway there, and that the classical accompaniments were just more subdued, as written. Mr. Dugan played a solo next, a Chopin Revolutionary Etude mashup with the Beatles’ Yesterday. There seemed to be less mashing and just the two pieces side by side, with little interplay.
The Broadway fare consisted of Some Enchanted Evening (Richard Rodgers), Maria (Leonard Bernstein), and Soliloquy (Richard Rodgers). One of the problems with singing outdoors is that, as a singer, you don’t get any real sense of your sound filling the space. As a consequence, some of the high points (range-wise as well as dramatically) were slightly forced. Still, Mr. Brancy is a singer with a fine voice, and it was a fun concert that was well received by the appreciative audience.
Later in the afternoon, Ms. Bullock, a winner of the 2014 Naumburg International Vocal Competition, gave a very well sung concert. Here’s the bare bones of the program (i.e., not every song title mentioned).
She Is Asleep (1943) – John Cage (1912–1992)
La courte paille (1960) – Francis Poulenc (1899–1963)
Selections from The Nursery (1872) – Modest Mussorgsky (1839–1881)
Three songs dating from 1968–1969, 1947, and 1927 – Samuel Barber (1910–1981)
Drei Lieder der Ophelia (1918) – Richard Strauss (1864–1949)
Deep River, arr. Jeremy Siskind (1917) – Harry T. Burleigh (1866–1949)
I Wish I Knew How It Would Feel to Be Free (1952) – Billy Taylor (1921–2010)
The Cage was a slightly odd choice for an opener, with vocal melismas (basically just vowel sounds—no real words) and the piano strings being brushed (with fingernails? I really couldn’t see), plus the pianist making some kind of knocking sound. Not my cup of tea. The first of the seven short Poulenc songs had simple, clear vocal lines, and the piece was very pretty and soothing. The next six alternated between brisk and lyrical, with three sets of each.
The Mussorgsky had a more dramatic setting of the texts, with phrases that were short and choppy at times. I particularly enjoyed Going to Sleep, a take on a child’s bedtime prayers with an appropriate sing-songy setting.
After intermission came the three Barber songs. The third, The Daisies, was my favorite with its clean, clear, and straightforward setting. With the Strauss songs, it was slightly odd to be hearing German translations of Shakespeare texts. Interesting, but slightly odd. Deep River was a nice setting, including slight variations to the recognizable tune, and I Wish I Knew How It Would Feel to Be Free was a strong example of a Civil Rights era song. Ms. Bullock sang an encore which was (I think—she announced it, but her speaking voice did not carry as well as her singing voice) a Josephine Baker song. Mr. Brancy did not sing an encore, since his entire concert was going to be repeated later in the afternoon.
So, on a busy day, I got to hear songs in English, German, French and Czech. And two different, but interesting, concerts. Most enjoyable!
ConcertMeister
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