This was a Mozart-heavy program, but it started with Stravinsky—the Suite from L’Histoire du Soldat (arranged by the composer) for violin (Lauren Macbeth), clarinet (Grover Edwards), and piano (John McCauley). Mr. McCauley was also the conductor for the rest of the program. The Stravinsky had very good playing throughout, in general. The first movement was rhythmic and quirky, followed by a second movement that finished with a violin flourish. The third movement was a full-bodied, solid composition, followed by three dances (Tango-Valse-Rag) that were varied and pleasant. The suite finished with La Danse du Diable—devilishly vivace, almost frantic.
After intermission, we had J.S. Bach’s third Brandenburg Concerto (strings only); Exultate [sic*] Jubilate (Mozart) with soprano Ann Hoyt Wazelle; the Overture to Cosi fan Tutte (Mozart); an aria from Cosi; and the final movement of Mozart’s “Prague” symphony.
The Bach had a rather pedestrian tempo, with a few intonation problems—nothing major, just a bit of school orchestra sound. Sorry folks, I calls ’em like I hears ’em.
Exultate Jubilate was sung and played quite well. Ms. Wazelle’s sound was nicely projected into the hall, and her runs and coloratura were quite nice. The Cosi overture was one reason why I’m not a big Mozart fan. I’m not seeing the brilliance/genius there. Ms. Wazelle’s aria played nicely, until she botched the high note toward the end. She actually mimed “I’m sorry” to the audience and then sounded out the misfire during the applause for her rendition. Interesting and a bit amusing, but I say don’t be apologetic.
The Presto movement of the “Prague” symphony was really enjoyable, with some nifty woodwind playing. The first two movements of the “Prague” were omitted due to lack of rehearsal time. From the program notes: “All of the players in COSM are professionally trained, most of them playing professionally.” I found that the ensemble playing was a bit lacking, and that there seemed to be a wide range in professional ability.
Since there was extra time in the concert, the Cosi overture was repeated. I opted out—I’d had more than my fill of Mozart by that time.
ConcertMeister
*Most sources have Exsultate—your Latin, and mileage, may vary
Monday, March 26, 2012
Monday, March 19, 2012
Friday, Bloody Friday
BabyBro and his beau were in town, and Friday night brought us to Carrie. My take? Enjoyable but not writing-home-about-able. First off Marin Mazzie (the mother) was not in the show, but her standby, Anne Tolpegin, did a great job. (I got to explain standby vs. understudy; hmmm, maybe I am a teacher.)
It was a musical. I found the music to be the same, the same, and the same. With a bit of difference, then more of the same. [Caveat—I also have a problem with the requisite microphone nubby-thingy and its attendant wire up the back of the head of a really, really short-haired ensemble player. If you’re gonna use the tech, hide the hardware—make it work seamlessly. There, off my soapbox, now.]
The performers were uniformly good, with Carrie, Molly Ranson, as a standout. It was a small-cast version of what had been a HUGE fiasco, so there were a few things in its favor. A few. I felt that they tried to cram too much story into the book (as opposed to really adapting it as a musical). But they were also saddled with the original production and many parts of the original score. Good concept—didn’t quite work. Major foreshadowing of pig-blood bucket (oh, hell—major shadow!). I don’t envy the wardrobe crew (this, coming from a Sweeney Todd alum). Still, enjoyable.
Sunday matinee brought a straight play—Other Desert Cities. Once again, a major player, Stockard Channing, was replaced by a very-well-played understudy, Lauren Klein. Our little joke (totally a joke!!!) was that Slacker Channing would be her new name (totally a joke!!!).
The cast comprised Lauren Klein, Elizabeth Marvel, Stacy Keach, Justin Kirk, and Judith Light. Great cast! It’s nice to see working legends, and I hope to see a living legend, Angela Lansbury, later in the season.
What a thought-provoking play. Very well composed (why, yes, plays can be composed as well as musicals). As a drama, there were quite a few twists and turns. At times, we all thought that there were just a few too many “blow up” moments.
Thought-provoking drama + splashy (even blood-splashy) musical = fun weekend. True, I did spend more $$ than a usual ConcertMeister weekend. Splurges (and family) are good reasons.
ConcertMeister
It was a musical. I found the music to be the same, the same, and the same. With a bit of difference, then more of the same. [Caveat—I also have a problem with the requisite microphone nubby-thingy and its attendant wire up the back of the head of a really, really short-haired ensemble player. If you’re gonna use the tech, hide the hardware—make it work seamlessly. There, off my soapbox, now.]
The performers were uniformly good, with Carrie, Molly Ranson, as a standout. It was a small-cast version of what had been a HUGE fiasco, so there were a few things in its favor. A few. I felt that they tried to cram too much story into the book (as opposed to really adapting it as a musical). But they were also saddled with the original production and many parts of the original score. Good concept—didn’t quite work. Major foreshadowing of pig-blood bucket (oh, hell—major shadow!). I don’t envy the wardrobe crew (this, coming from a Sweeney Todd alum). Still, enjoyable.
Sunday matinee brought a straight play—Other Desert Cities. Once again, a major player, Stockard Channing, was replaced by a very-well-played understudy, Lauren Klein. Our little joke (totally a joke!!!) was that Slacker Channing would be her new name (totally a joke!!!).
The cast comprised Lauren Klein, Elizabeth Marvel, Stacy Keach, Justin Kirk, and Judith Light. Great cast! It’s nice to see working legends, and I hope to see a living legend, Angela Lansbury, later in the season.
What a thought-provoking play. Very well composed (why, yes, plays can be composed as well as musicals). As a drama, there were quite a few twists and turns. At times, we all thought that there were just a few too many “blow up” moments.
Thought-provoking drama + splashy (even blood-splashy) musical = fun weekend. True, I did spend more $$ than a usual ConcertMeister weekend. Splurges (and family) are good reasons.
ConcertMeister
Sunday, March 11, 2012
Shhh!—The Silent Clowns
A bit of a misnomer, as these two were Westerns with comedy (or perceived comedy) actors in lead roles. Way Out West (1920), starring Hank Mann and The Round-Up (1920), starring Roscoe “Fatty” Arbuckle.
Both films were part of the Library of Congress 35mm restoration process, so the prints were in very good shape. “Way Out West” was a two-reeler with a bit of slapstick involving a crooked sheriff, robbing a stagecoach, and gunpowder sowed instead of onion seeds. Did I mention slapstick?
“The Round-Up” vaulted Roscoe Arbuckle into a starring role, though not in a comedy (where he had built his history). So while it was “dramatic,” he also inserted comedy bits throughout. A lovey-dovey couple, the beau going away to prospect, double-dealing by the best friend, robbery/murder, half-breed Indians, death, all accompanied with live piano playing!
A mild rebuke. The feature was originally a seven-reeler (turned into three, via the LoC); as a result there were two mini-intermissions with slides shown saying “The film will resume in a few moments,” etc., but every time that happened the auditorium lit up blue from folks checking email/Facebook/texting. Really? You can’t place yourself back into an earlier era and enjoy the show? You’re watching silent films in a reproduction of the silent film era. Embrace the experience!
Kudos, as always, to Bruce Lawson and Steve Massa, and especially Ben Model for the live accompaniment.
I'm probably going to look into a biography of Arbuckle now to explore the “scandal.”
ConcertMeister
Both films were part of the Library of Congress 35mm restoration process, so the prints were in very good shape. “Way Out West” was a two-reeler with a bit of slapstick involving a crooked sheriff, robbing a stagecoach, and gunpowder sowed instead of onion seeds. Did I mention slapstick?
“The Round-Up” vaulted Roscoe Arbuckle into a starring role, though not in a comedy (where he had built his history). So while it was “dramatic,” he also inserted comedy bits throughout. A lovey-dovey couple, the beau going away to prospect, double-dealing by the best friend, robbery/murder, half-breed Indians, death, all accompanied with live piano playing!
A mild rebuke. The feature was originally a seven-reeler (turned into three, via the LoC); as a result there were two mini-intermissions with slides shown saying “The film will resume in a few moments,” etc., but every time that happened the auditorium lit up blue from folks checking email/Facebook/texting. Really? You can’t place yourself back into an earlier era and enjoy the show? You’re watching silent films in a reproduction of the silent film era. Embrace the experience!
Kudos, as always, to Bruce Lawson and Steve Massa, and especially Ben Model for the live accompaniment.
I'm probably going to look into a biography of Arbuckle now to explore the “scandal.”
ConcertMeister
Saturday, March 10, 2012
Violin and Piano—Classic
And Classical. On Sunday afternoon, 3/4/12, Yeou-Cheng Ma (violin) and Lisa Weiss (piano) performed a Chaconne (Tommaso Vitali, a composer new to me) and three Sonatas: Mozart, Sonata No. 4 in B-flat Major KV 317d(378); Beethoven, Sonata No. 6 on A Major, Op. 30 No. 1; and Schumann, Sonata in A minor, Op. 105.
The chaconne was a single-movement piece that was bright and energetic—just right for opening the concert. Of the sonatas, the Beethoven was my favorite, followed in order by the Schumann and the Mozart. I guess I should get this out in the open and let the haters take their best shots—I’m not a big Mozart fan. I think part of it is that while I agree that he’s a genius, I start feeling almost defensive when people (broadcasters, online commenters, etc.) venerate every note as genius. Maybe I’m letting the hype trump the music—or letting it trump letting the music speak for itself. Whew! sorry about that.
Anyhoo, while the Mozart was okay, I felt that the Beethoven had more heft to its three movements, ending with an Allegretto con Variazioni whose variations meandered just a wee bit before finishing up. There were a few minor intonation problems in the slower second movement. The Schumann opened with a slightly dark and dramatic feel to it, followed by a song-like and (briefly) dance-like Allegretto. The last movement was marked Lebhaft. I had to look it up, so you get an added bonus in this post:
Origin of LEBHAFT
G, lively, fr. MHG lebehaft alive, fr. leben to live (fr. OHG lebēn) + -haft (adj. suffix).
Interestingly, all three sonatas had a movement that ended with pizzicato playing by the violinist. That’s plucked or strummed strings as opposed to bowed. Throughout, the playing was enjoyable, with a (very) few intonation problems. A shout out to the page turner, who made things run very smoothly for the entire concert (and helped to avoid an almost-train wreck in the Schumann). It was great to see the pianist thank her after the last work. Can you tell I enjoyed this concert better than Tuesday’s?
ConcertMeister
The chaconne was a single-movement piece that was bright and energetic—just right for opening the concert. Of the sonatas, the Beethoven was my favorite, followed in order by the Schumann and the Mozart. I guess I should get this out in the open and let the haters take their best shots—I’m not a big Mozart fan. I think part of it is that while I agree that he’s a genius, I start feeling almost defensive when people (broadcasters, online commenters, etc.) venerate every note as genius. Maybe I’m letting the hype trump the music—or letting it trump letting the music speak for itself. Whew! sorry about that.
Anyhoo, while the Mozart was okay, I felt that the Beethoven had more heft to its three movements, ending with an Allegretto con Variazioni whose variations meandered just a wee bit before finishing up. There were a few minor intonation problems in the slower second movement. The Schumann opened with a slightly dark and dramatic feel to it, followed by a song-like and (briefly) dance-like Allegretto. The last movement was marked Lebhaft. I had to look it up, so you get an added bonus in this post:
Origin of LEBHAFT
G, lively, fr. MHG lebehaft alive, fr. leben to live (fr. OHG lebēn) + -haft (adj. suffix).
Interestingly, all three sonatas had a movement that ended with pizzicato playing by the violinist. That’s plucked or strummed strings as opposed to bowed. Throughout, the playing was enjoyable, with a (very) few intonation problems. A shout out to the page turner, who made things run very smoothly for the entire concert (and helped to avoid an almost-train wreck in the Schumann). It was great to see the pianist thank her after the last work. Can you tell I enjoyed this concert better than Tuesday’s?
ConcertMeister
Thursday, March 8, 2012
No, YOU Are Out of Order
Actually, this post is out of order—it’s from Tuesday evening and I still want to post about a Sunday afternoon concert. But this will be relatively brief.
I was at the Austrian Cultural Foundation of New York, which is celebrating its 10th anniversary (of the new building) this year. The concert was performed by the redundantly named ICE (International Contemporary Ensemble) Ensemble. Avant-garde classical music.* We were asked to hold our applause until the end of the first half.
Program:
praeludium I, for solo piano; origami, for flute, cello and accordion (New York premiere); praeludium II, for solo piano; weiße aepfel, for violin, viola, cello; praeludium III, for solo piano.
My take. praeludium I – a, very slow, scale, from the, lowest, keys, to the, upper-most, keys; origami – repeating intervals (mostly major seconds), sometimes moving up or down in pitch, repeated and repeated and repeated; praeludium II – a, very slow, scale, from the, lowest, keys, to the, upper-most, keys (with a few seemingly random right-hand notes thrown in for good measure); weiße aepfel – white sound (I did not know that was possible with bowed string instruments) giving way to a “scree” sound with pitches going somewhere, though I don’t know where that somewhere was; praeludium III – (ready for this?) a, very slow, scale, from the, lowest, keys, to the, upper-most, keys with, some, large interval, pitches, the other, way, from, top to bottom.
At the end of praeludium III, somebody had to start the applause, so I did. Then I left.
It is possible that I missed a lively, well-balanced second half of the concert, but I, don’t, think, so.
ConcertMeister
*Composer and instrumentalists’ names upon request.
I was at the Austrian Cultural Foundation of New York, which is celebrating its 10th anniversary (of the new building) this year. The concert was performed by the redundantly named ICE (International Contemporary Ensemble) Ensemble. Avant-garde classical music.* We were asked to hold our applause until the end of the first half.
Program:
praeludium I, for solo piano; origami, for flute, cello and accordion (New York premiere); praeludium II, for solo piano; weiße aepfel, for violin, viola, cello; praeludium III, for solo piano.
My take. praeludium I – a, very slow, scale, from the, lowest, keys, to the, upper-most, keys; origami – repeating intervals (mostly major seconds), sometimes moving up or down in pitch, repeated and repeated and repeated; praeludium II – a, very slow, scale, from the, lowest, keys, to the, upper-most, keys (with a few seemingly random right-hand notes thrown in for good measure); weiße aepfel – white sound (I did not know that was possible with bowed string instruments) giving way to a “scree” sound with pitches going somewhere, though I don’t know where that somewhere was; praeludium III – (ready for this?) a, very slow, scale, from the, lowest, keys, to the, upper-most, keys with, some, large interval, pitches, the other, way, from, top to bottom.
At the end of praeludium III, somebody had to start the applause, so I did. Then I left.
It is possible that I missed a lively, well-balanced second half of the concert, but I, don’t, think, so.
ConcertMeister
*Composer and instrumentalists’ names upon request.
Tuesday, February 28, 2012
Celebration!
Sunday, the 26th, brought a Casavant Organ 50th Birthday celebration. Madison Avenue Presbyterian Church’s organ was dedicated on March 4, 1962.
Sunday’s concert was part celebration on its own and part homage to the original concert. The concert included the Suite in G major for Strings & Organ (1905), Ottorino Respighi, (1879–1936); Concerto for Organ, Strings & Timpani, Francis Poulenc (1899–1963)*; “A Mighty Fortress Is Our God”*; How Lovely Is Thy Dwelling Place, Johannes Brahms (1833–1897)*; Worship the Lord, Op. 59, No. 2 (1959), Seth Bingham (1882–1972); and Three Canticles of Isaiah (2011), John Weaver (b. 1937).
*Pieces performed on the 1962 concert.
The principals included Andrew Henderson, Mary Huff, and John Weaver (organists and conductors). As a disclosure, I point out that I am personally acquainted with all three principals (indeed, I sang in Dr. Weaver’s choir for a brief spell in the late 1980s), and I accepted a comp ticket to the concert.
That said, I had a wonderful time. The Respighi (Ms. Huff at the organ, Dr. Henderson conducting) was a four-movement work that nicely balanced the organ and the strings. I was aware, as I would be throughout the afternoon, that the organ really can be a team player.
The Poulenc. I’ve heard snippets of recordings–I may have heard full recordings–but I’d never heard it live, until Sunday (Dr. Henderson at the organ, with Ms. Huff conducting; why yes! it was musical benches and podiums). The piece opens with alternating organ phrases and string/timpani phrases–not always equal or related, but building to something new. There were a few instances of what a friend of mine has called “creepy-crawly–French chords,” and there were many instances of the organ being allowed to shine, before once again joining the team. Many dance-like rhythms in a thoroughly exciting piece.
After intermission, we added the choral mix (inside joke), with Dr. Weaver conducting. The Brahms “How Lovely” from Ein Deutsches Requiem was, in a word, lovely. A straightforward performance with the added bonus of a flute added into the mix, played by Marianne Weaver. The Bingham anthem was a reference to a different Bingham anthem performed at the 1962 concert (Mr. Bingham was organist at MAPC until 1951). This work was being given (we think) its NY premiere, thanks to parts being copied out from the NY Public library (it’s a great city I live in!). I liked the work–it laid out the text and tune, then spun out a few variants on that.
In the same vein, Dr. Weaver’s composition (world premiere) mirrored having a new piece on the concert composed by a Music Director Emeritus. His three-movement work opened joyfully (but included contrasting sections), with call-and-response sections reminiscent of African-American spirituals, then morphing into a truly American spiritual. Very effective. All of these once again reinforced the organ (which would normally be the only accompaniment to these works) as a team player. I can’t stress that enough.
The very well-written notes on the organ and its restoration included a great deal of information on how the restoring process works and why. One point of interest for me was information about the cleaning and re-leathering of the pipes in order to prevent ciphers. Ciphers occur when the organist stops playing but the organ doesn’t. (The mechanism does not close properly, so the sound continues.) Sometimes the cipher can be “knocked” out by manipulating the key on the keyboard; sometimes the organ must be powered down and/or someone (usually the assistant organist) has to climb into the works and make a physical adjustment. The last time I heard the MAPC Casavant Frères organ, in 2008, it did cipher. In 2012, it did not.
Happy birthday; here’s to another 50 years.
Another note of interest: Dr. Henderson at one point asked if there was anyone at the concert who had been at the 1962 concert. There were several. I spoke with one after the concert (a church member I also know) who said not only was she there, she sang in the original concert. Only in New York, kids! (With a shout-out to Cindy Adams.)
ConcertMeister
p.s. This is the first time I've ever used a "Doodle Pad for Young Presbyterians" to take notes. I hope God doesn't mind that I'm neither young nor Presbyterian. I don't think I broke a commandment.
Sunday’s concert was part celebration on its own and part homage to the original concert. The concert included the Suite in G major for Strings & Organ (1905), Ottorino Respighi, (1879–1936); Concerto for Organ, Strings & Timpani, Francis Poulenc (1899–1963)*; “A Mighty Fortress Is Our God”*; How Lovely Is Thy Dwelling Place, Johannes Brahms (1833–1897)*; Worship the Lord, Op. 59, No. 2 (1959), Seth Bingham (1882–1972); and Three Canticles of Isaiah (2011), John Weaver (b. 1937).
*Pieces performed on the 1962 concert.
The principals included Andrew Henderson, Mary Huff, and John Weaver (organists and conductors). As a disclosure, I point out that I am personally acquainted with all three principals (indeed, I sang in Dr. Weaver’s choir for a brief spell in the late 1980s), and I accepted a comp ticket to the concert.
That said, I had a wonderful time. The Respighi (Ms. Huff at the organ, Dr. Henderson conducting) was a four-movement work that nicely balanced the organ and the strings. I was aware, as I would be throughout the afternoon, that the organ really can be a team player.
The Poulenc. I’ve heard snippets of recordings–I may have heard full recordings–but I’d never heard it live, until Sunday (Dr. Henderson at the organ, with Ms. Huff conducting; why yes! it was musical benches and podiums). The piece opens with alternating organ phrases and string/timpani phrases–not always equal or related, but building to something new. There were a few instances of what a friend of mine has called “creepy-crawly–French chords,” and there were many instances of the organ being allowed to shine, before once again joining the team. Many dance-like rhythms in a thoroughly exciting piece.
After intermission, we added the choral mix (inside joke), with Dr. Weaver conducting. The Brahms “How Lovely” from Ein Deutsches Requiem was, in a word, lovely. A straightforward performance with the added bonus of a flute added into the mix, played by Marianne Weaver. The Bingham anthem was a reference to a different Bingham anthem performed at the 1962 concert (Mr. Bingham was organist at MAPC until 1951). This work was being given (we think) its NY premiere, thanks to parts being copied out from the NY Public library (it’s a great city I live in!). I liked the work–it laid out the text and tune, then spun out a few variants on that.
In the same vein, Dr. Weaver’s composition (world premiere) mirrored having a new piece on the concert composed by a Music Director Emeritus. His three-movement work opened joyfully (but included contrasting sections), with call-and-response sections reminiscent of African-American spirituals, then morphing into a truly American spiritual. Very effective. All of these once again reinforced the organ (which would normally be the only accompaniment to these works) as a team player. I can’t stress that enough.
The very well-written notes on the organ and its restoration included a great deal of information on how the restoring process works and why. One point of interest for me was information about the cleaning and re-leathering of the pipes in order to prevent ciphers. Ciphers occur when the organist stops playing but the organ doesn’t. (The mechanism does not close properly, so the sound continues.) Sometimes the cipher can be “knocked” out by manipulating the key on the keyboard; sometimes the organ must be powered down and/or someone (usually the assistant organist) has to climb into the works and make a physical adjustment. The last time I heard the MAPC Casavant Frères organ, in 2008, it did cipher. In 2012, it did not.
Happy birthday; here’s to another 50 years.
Another note of interest: Dr. Henderson at one point asked if there was anyone at the concert who had been at the 1962 concert. There were several. I spoke with one after the concert (a church member I also know) who said not only was she there, she sang in the original concert. Only in New York, kids! (With a shout-out to Cindy Adams.)
ConcertMeister
p.s. This is the first time I've ever used a "Doodle Pad for Young Presbyterians" to take notes. I hope God doesn't mind that I'm neither young nor Presbyterian. I don't think I broke a commandment.
Monday, February 20, 2012
Music Ed
Sunday’s concert featured the Con Brio Ensemble—Paul Roczek, violin; Hamilton Berry, cello; and Diana Mittler-Battipaglia, piano.
There were three works on the program—Sonata in D Major, Op. 94 for Violin and Piano, Sergei Prokofiev (1891–1953); Sonata in E minor, Op. 38 for Cello and Piano, Johannes Brahms (1833–1897); and Trio in E minor “Dumky” Op. 90, Antonin Dvořák (1841–1904). And no, there will not be a test.
First off, kudos to Mr. Berry for filling in for the scheduled cellist, who had to withdraw due to an injury. I’m unsure whether that affected rehearsal time, but his playing was great throughout. Ms. Mittler-Battipaglia and Mr. Rozcek were also in fine form.
The Prokofiev Sonata (Moderato, Allegretto scherzando, Andante, Allegro con brio) had shifting moods in the first movement, shifting rhythms in the second, in the third, a sort of wandering of the piano/violin lines—seemingly away from each other yet ending together, with a real feeling of continuity in the con brio. But CM, what is con brio? It’s literally, from the Italian, with vigor. So, it’s not frantic or overboard on anything—it’s vigorous, bracing playing. And this was. Also of interest, the piece was written as a flute sonata in 1943, and then was retooled as a violin sonata in 1944. According to the program notes, it has stayed in the repertory for both instruments. And no, there will not be a test.
The Brahms Sonata (Allegro non troppo, Allegretto quasi Menuetto, Allegro) had a soulful quality in both the composition and the execution. It didn’t cross the line into mournfulness or sadness/angst, just soulful. The end of the second movement has the cellist strumming the strings á la a guitar. Again, from the program notes, “Brahms first wrote three movements of the Op. 38 sonata in 1862, but omitted a finale. In June 1865 he composed a new concluding movement and dropped the second, an Adagio, producing the present three-movement work.” And no...well, you get my drift.
Hmm, two works, so far, that ended up not quite as they set out to be.
The Dvořák Trio has six movements listed, many of which have multiple tempi, so they will not all be spelled out here. Of note, a “Dumka” (“Dumky” is the plural) is “a Slavic folk song with a pervasive melancholy or pensive quality that is relieved by sharply contrasting interludes, which range from serene to exuberant.” Indeed, this says it all, and Con Brio played the trio exactly as those program notes describe it. Con brio with a dash of melancholy and exuberance thrown into the mix. Bravo!
Have we all learned something here today?
ConcertMeister
There were three works on the program—Sonata in D Major, Op. 94 for Violin and Piano, Sergei Prokofiev (1891–1953); Sonata in E minor, Op. 38 for Cello and Piano, Johannes Brahms (1833–1897); and Trio in E minor “Dumky” Op. 90, Antonin Dvořák (1841–1904). And no, there will not be a test.
First off, kudos to Mr. Berry for filling in for the scheduled cellist, who had to withdraw due to an injury. I’m unsure whether that affected rehearsal time, but his playing was great throughout. Ms. Mittler-Battipaglia and Mr. Rozcek were also in fine form.
The Prokofiev Sonata (Moderato, Allegretto scherzando, Andante, Allegro con brio) had shifting moods in the first movement, shifting rhythms in the second, in the third, a sort of wandering of the piano/violin lines—seemingly away from each other yet ending together, with a real feeling of continuity in the con brio. But CM, what is con brio? It’s literally, from the Italian, with vigor. So, it’s not frantic or overboard on anything—it’s vigorous, bracing playing. And this was. Also of interest, the piece was written as a flute sonata in 1943, and then was retooled as a violin sonata in 1944. According to the program notes, it has stayed in the repertory for both instruments. And no, there will not be a test.
The Brahms Sonata (Allegro non troppo, Allegretto quasi Menuetto, Allegro) had a soulful quality in both the composition and the execution. It didn’t cross the line into mournfulness or sadness/angst, just soulful. The end of the second movement has the cellist strumming the strings á la a guitar. Again, from the program notes, “Brahms first wrote three movements of the Op. 38 sonata in 1862, but omitted a finale. In June 1865 he composed a new concluding movement and dropped the second, an Adagio, producing the present three-movement work.” And no...well, you get my drift.
Hmm, two works, so far, that ended up not quite as they set out to be.
The Dvořák Trio has six movements listed, many of which have multiple tempi, so they will not all be spelled out here. Of note, a “Dumka” (“Dumky” is the plural) is “a Slavic folk song with a pervasive melancholy or pensive quality that is relieved by sharply contrasting interludes, which range from serene to exuberant.” Indeed, this says it all, and Con Brio played the trio exactly as those program notes describe it. Con brio with a dash of melancholy and exuberance thrown into the mix. Bravo!
Have we all learned something here today?
ConcertMeister
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