Shakespeare on Stratford (4/24/210)

Brave New World Repertory Theatre

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

ConcertMeister

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

Sort of. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

ConcertMeister

St. Andrew Music Society: Music on Madison (11/1/20)

 Jorge Ávila, violin; Arthur Fiacco, cello; Andrew Henderson, organ

This is going to be slightly weird, because—hey, pandemic! There was no list of pieces and composers that I could find, so I had to scribble things down during the live streaming broadcast. First up were two movements of (I think) a J.S. Bach work for violin, cello, and continuo (organ was continuo throughout the concert). The first movement was gentle while the second was more brisk. As such, I enjoyed it a bit more. It had dance-like rhythms, though to be honest, the slower first movement also seemed dance-like.

The second piece was a solo cello movement, the Sarabande, from a J.S. Bach unaccompanied cello suite. A sarabande is a specific dance form (are we seeing a theme here?). This seemed rather somber to me, possibly because I was sitting in front of my computer on a gray and rainy day. It was mostly a solo line with a few double stops (the cellist playing two strings at one time, creating harmony on a solo instrument) thrown in.

Next was a movement, Andante, from a J.S. Bach Violin Concerto. It began with organ and cello, then the violin entered. A brief sound engineering note here (and I’m not a sound engineer at all), the levels of all three instruments seemed to have been adjusted. Earlier, I didn’t really hear the organ. Now, the balance was much better. Being slow in nature, the Andante was not really a downer though it could have been.

W.A. Mozart’s Adagio in E minor (I think?) followed, beginning with an organ solo followed by the violin. It was pleasant, if a bit subdued, and I liked the slightly more rhythmic touches and the nice violin cadenza.

Left field time. A cello/organ duet by Bourdon (?)—really, it went by too quickly in real time for me to write it down—had a hint of mournful cello sound with a touch of hopefulness as well.

The Meditation from Thaïs by Jules Massenet was next, arranged for violin and organ. It’s a pretty piece, almost approaching warhorse status, but not my cup of tea. Purely personal preference.

I think two movements of a Handel Violin Sonata followed. The first movement was gentle and dance-like (there it is again), and when the tempo picked up, I liked it a little better. The second movement opened slowly but with a little more intensity, in a good way, followed by a joyful section that was bright and chipper, though still somewhat restrained.

Is live streaming the new normal? I’m not quite sure yet. But live music makes me happy.

ConcertMeister

BookDetectiveMeister (10/19/2020)

Hey, it’s pandemic time. Things will be a little different. For the record, I love the New York Public Library. Even when it doesn’t work exactly right.

I give you A Tale of Three Holds.

NYPL allows you to place books on hold and then pick them up a grab-and-go (approx. 50 as of now) location. Great concept. I have three books on hold: Underfoot in Show Business (Helene Hanff); Death in Venice (Thomas Mann, new translation); and Dog on it (Spencer Quinn). I am, respectively, 1 of 1 holds, 2 of 3 holds, and 1 of 1 holds.

Unfortunately, the only copy of Underfoot is at Lincoln Center Library for the Performing Arts. I only learned that by calling NYPL after my book had been on hold for more than a month. LPA is not a grab-and-go location, so they’re not sending books out.

Death in Venice, I’m just holding my breath on. Hopefully not for too much longer. I don’t want someone to have to announce Death in Manhattan.

Here’s why I really love the NYPL. When I returned a book at 96th/Lex. on Friday, I asked the librarian about Dog on it. She told me that NYPL only has two copies. One is listed as ‘Missing’ and one is listed as ‘In Transit’. It has been ‘In Transit’ since Aug. 13 (before I turned 66!). She said that it might be at the Parkchester branch and gave me their phone number. I called Parkchester after work today. No dice.

Parkchester thought that the book might be at the E. 67th St. library (which is a grab-and-go location) or at 40th St/5th Ave. (which has a new name that I will never use; it will be the Midtown Library for me forever). Well I called both. No dice. But here’s the thing. The librarian at Midtown told me she’d check to see if it was on their shelf (this has happened to me once before at this branch in these pandemic times.). Even though I called her at 5:45pm (and the library closes at 6pm), she gave me a return call before she left for the day.

I spoke with three NYPL librarians today and got superb service, even if I didn’t get the result that I was looking for. I am a proud supporter of the New York Public Library. And I can’t wait to get back to live performances at LPA, and writing about them, just as soon as it’s safe to do so.

Concert/BookMeister

Another Try at Live Music (9/19/20)

 The Orchestra Now

Roque Cordero (1917–2008) – Adagio trágico (1955)
Samuel Coleridge-Taylor (1875–1912) – Four Novelettes, Op. 52 (1903) – Allegro moderato; Larghetto; Andante con moto; Allegro molto
Pyotr Ilyich Tchaikovsky (1840–1893) – Serenade for Strings, Op. 48 (1880) – Pezzo in forma di sonatina: Andante non troppo – Allegro moderato; Valse: Moderato – Tempo di Valse; Élégie: Larghetto elegiac; Finale (Tema Russo): Andante – Allegro con spirito

Such a joy. Especially the Tchaikovsky. This was a live onscreen broadcast(?) from the Fisher Center at Bard College. Still too much new-ness for me. No applause at the end of a work?
I must confess that I did not tune in for the entirety of the curtain-raiser. What I heard sounded OK.

Interesting tid-bit about Samuel Coleridge-Taylor. His mother named him after the poet Samuel Taylor Coleridge. He was English, of African descent. The four movements of his work that I heard were quite pleasant though they didn’t blow me away.

The Tchaikovsky Serenade is near and dear to me. As a college student, it was choreographed and set on me (and others). I was quite surprised to realize how short the waltz movement is. All four movements brought back wonderful memories. I also just heard on WQXR today that the waltz movement was fitted out with lyrics that Kathryn Grayson sang in a film. More to explore. It’s always a joy to hear live performances of music that holds a special place in the memory.

Kudos to The Orchestra Now for creating live music that we can experience via computer. Still strange, but better than nothing. I especially enjoyed it when the string players applauded the concertmaster (duh!) for a job well done.

ConcertMeister

Live Music (9/12/2020)

This was a well-thought-out (if flawed) plan.

Ukrainian Institute of America
2 East 79th Street, NYC
Music on the Steps

Serenade for Strings in E Major. Op. 22 – I. Moderato; IV. Larghetto; V. Finale: Allegro vivace – Antonin Dvorak
Four Seasons of Buenos Aires: Inverno Porteno (Winter) – Astor Piazzolla
Melody in A Minor (arranged for solo violin and string orchestra) – Myroslav Skoryk
Concerto for Two Violins – J.S. Bach

The steps alluded to above are the steps of the Ukrainian Institute. Here’s the deal. The musicians (nine string players that I heard) played on the steps of the building (a mansion at Fifth Avenue and Seventy-ninth Street). We, the audience, stood on the sidewalk. The buses and street noise didn’t help, but we all made the most of it.

I adore the Dvorak Serenade. Here, the small ensemble played the first movement with a gentle and lovely style, though it did build nicely. The fourth movement was slow and sweet, poignant at times, with a slightly lively middle section before returning to the slow tempo. The Finale was lively from the get-go. It was a lot of fun, including bringing back themes from the opening movement and then finishing with a flourish.

The Piazzolla was written in a style that I’ve heard referred to as nuevo tango. Yes, there are the traditional tango rhythms, though expanded in style. This one opened with a slightly moody feel. Then the tempo picked up a bit, though still moody, bouncing back and forth.

I did not stay for the rest of the concert. The crowd had grown; there was no way to social distance; and the 100%-masked audience became less than 100%. That was not a risk I was willing to take. Even for live music.

As I said, a good (but flawed) experiment. If they do another one, I’ll watch the live streaming. I won’t like it as much but I’ll feel safer and healthier.

ConcertMeister

Commenting as FilmMeister (8/23/2020)

 The 39 Steps (1935)

Touted as a Hitchcockian masterpiece, this one was tough for me to navigate. I know that I tried to watch it Saturday night and failed miserably. I think I’ve tried watching it in the past but have never made it all the way through.

Huzzah! I finally made it through. I still had to visit my good friends IMDb and Wikipedia in order to wend my way through some of the more intricate plot twists and turns. Part of it, for me at least, is the whipcrack-rapid-fire dialogue so prevalent in ’30s cinema. If I can’t hear and understand you, I can’t get plot twists rushing by me at really, really fast speeds. (Not just with this film—I find that this is the case in other early talkies.)

While I enjoyed the performances (even though I was guessing at how they fit/furthered the plot), I was still behind the eight ball an awful lot of the time.

Once I actually saw the final music hall scene, all was revealed. I’m glad I finally lasted long enough to see it.

FilmMeister