Saint Andrew Chorale (4/19/26)

Mystical Voices
Works by Kodály, Price & Vasks
David Enlow, organ; Andrew Henderson, conductor

Laudate Dominum (2016) – Peteris Vasks (b. 1946)
Resignation (1932) – Florence Price (1887–1953)
Communion Service in F (1936) – Price
Missa Brevis (1945) – Zoltán Kodály (1882–1967)

Vasks' Laudate Dominum opened with an organ prelude (and there were also organ interludes) that preceded the chorus singing "Laudate Dominum" in a rather subdued setting. I found the organ a bit overwhelming as set against the relatively calm choral singing. Perhaps that was the intent. That said, I liked the organ accompanying the beginning of the choral "Alleluia".

You must read up on Florence Price. There were very few American female composers with works being performed in the 1930s. Especially black female composers. Do yourself a favor and explore her. Indeed, some of her scores weren't even discovered until after her death. Intrigued?

Resignation was a solid choral composition written in the style of an African-American spiritual. Strophic (Ms. Price wrote both music and text), it was done quite well, including a soprano line backed by a humming chorus. This might have been my favorite piece on the program. It really touched me.

Ms. Price's Service in F—Kyrie Eleison, Credo, Sanctus, Benedictus, Agnus Dei, Gloria—was very interesting. The Credo had a straightforward, declarative setting of the text that worked very well. The Benedictus was sweet, with a nicely rousing Hosanna section.

Kodály's mass was a traditional setting of the mass text bookended by an organ Introitus and an Ite, Missa Est. Once again, the organ movements were rather jarring to me. Taken as a whole, this was a rather grand and muscular setting of the mass.

The Saint Andrew Chorale sang very well throughout, and I'm glad I was introduced to live performances of Vasks and Kodály. Interestingly, I first heard Ms. Price's music live on April 13, 2026, so I'm glad I was able to hear her live again just six days later. I'm a lucky fellow.

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Orchestra of St. Luke's Mentoring Program (4/13/26)

The Cerrone Quartet – Mannes School of Music students – Violin, Violin, Viola, Cello

Maurice Ravel
Allegro moderato from String Quartet in F Major, M. 35

Florence Price
Juba from String Quartet No. 2 in A minor   
***

The Cutwater Quintet – Mannes School of Music students – Trumpet, Trumpet, Horn, Trombone, Tuba

Ivan Jevtić
Quintette Victoria

Reena Esmail
Khirkiyaan – Jōg; Tuttarana   
***

Quintal Harmony – Manhattan School of Music students – Flute, Oboe, Clarinet, Horn, Bassoon

Leonard Bernstein
Overture to Candide (arr. Cliff Townsend)

Valerie Coleman
Tzigane 
***

Members of the Orchestra of St. Luke's mentored graduate students of two of New York's prestigious music schools. This concert was the result.

As announced from the stage, Ravel based his composition on the works of Claude Debussy. The piece was lyrical and modern but not at all atonal. There were rich sonorities, almost bordering on Impressionism, with a touch of Asian influences (to my ear). There was also nice pizzicato (plucked strings) playing at the end. 

The Price was rhythmic and energetic with a very positive vibe. Juba is a dance-like frame of mind that this composer returned to frequently, though this movement of her string quartet had a relaxing ending. 

The Jevtić had a fanfare-esque beginning and was much more modern than the earlier pieces. Mutes were used for the trombone and both trumpets (and both trumpeters dropped theirs at two different points). A mute was also used for the horn, which I thought was slightly odd since the horn is played with the fist of the player in the bell of the horn. The piece was harsh at times and a bit too modern and disjointed for me. 

As sometimes happens with violins in string quartets, the first and second trumpets reversed parts in the Esmail. The first movement was energetic and interesting, but it didn’t really hold my interest throughout. That may just be a “me” thing, though. I liked the opening of the second movement better. The rest of it was OK, too, but not great. 

The Bernstein was very familiar to me, and it was a lot of fun. While interesting to hear it scaled down to a quintet, it lost a bit of clout but still worked. The flutist doubled on piccolo for a few phrases in the middle of the work. Kudos to this quintet for taking a bow after the first of their two pieces. The other two groups did not.

The Coleman was modern but easily listenable. Did I see a mute for the bassoon? I never knew such a thing existed. There were a lot of Easten European influences (am I allowed to say gypsy?). The clarinet had a long, involved improvised cadenza leading to the end of the work. The entire piece had a real klezmer feel to it. Fun fact—though she wasn’t there at this performance, Ms. Coleman is one of the mentors for this woodwind group. 

This was my first time hearing Ms. Price’s work live. Ditto for Ms. Esmail. In fact, this was the first time I’d even heard of her. That, and learning about a bassoon mute, made for a very interesting evening. 

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Music of the Regiment (4/2/26)

From the Parade Ground to Paris ~ A Portrait of Bernhard Crusell 
Dominic Giardino ~ classical clarinet, Shelby Yamin ~ violin, Stephen Goist ~ viola, Matt Zucker ~ cello 

Quartet in B-flat Major – Franz Tausch (1762–1817)
Allegro molto

Quartet No. 4 in C minor – Jean-Xavier Lefèvre (1763–1829)
Allegro moderato
Adagio
Rondo: Poco allegretto 

Quartet No. 2 in C minor, Op. 4 – Bernhard Henrik Crusell (1775–1838)
Allegro: Molto agitato
Menuetto–Trio
Pastorale: Un poco allegretto
Rondo: Allegro 

A part of the Gotham Early Music Scene series, this was an interesting program that included three composers who were new to me—Bernhard Henrik Crusell, Franz Tausch and Jean-Xavier Lefèvre. Tausch, based in Berlin, was one of Crusell’s first teachers. Lefèvre took up that mantle in Paris. Crusell was Finnish. Geography lesson over. A word about the clarinet. When it is played in brisk, scale-like passages, it sounds bubbly. There were a lot of bubbly phrases on display. That is the last time you will read the word bubbly in this post. Now to the next minor concern. Since all three works were for clarinet quartet, they were fairly similar even though they came from slightly different eras. On to the music. 

The Tausch had a unison opening—all four instruments playing the same notes though in different octaves. It was jaunty and pleasant. The unison theme was repeated, while the clarinet was definitely featured. 

The Lefèvre, being three movements instead of one, was a bit longer. The first movement was slightly dark but not somber. In fact, it was pretty energetic. It pitted a string trio against the clarinet quartet. This compositional technique was repeated a few times. In fact, the second movement opened with the string trio that was then joined by the clarinet in a gentle adagio. There was still energy—just a gentler energy. A small, bright burst of energy led to a subdued ending. The third movement had a much brisker tempo that almost made it to fun while the minor key seemed to be holding it back. If it wasn’t quite fun, it was interesting in a good way. Then the tempo picked up and it finally made it to fun. 

After the strings retuned, the Crusell had a strong opening that then softened just a bit. Overall, the movement had a solid quality. The second movement was definitely dance-like—a nice, gentle dance, though it was also spirited at times. The third movement was gentle and lovely, opening with a string trio before being joined by the clarinet. This phrasing was repeated several times. Crusell had certainly learned from his teachers. The final movement was energetic with fleet fingering from the clarinet. It was pretty bub... oops, not going there. 

I’m glad I attended but the similarities of the three works made me rethink the concert that followed on April 9th. It was for solo flute. Literally. No piano or harpsichord or other instrument involved. Just a flute. I decided to pass on that one. 

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Across a Crowded Room (3/28/26)

A few words about this New York Public Library program. A group of writers and composers get together, meet and greet, and then determine who they’d like to work with. The goal is to create a 20-minute musical. This could be a standalone or something they would like to expand further after presenting their short works. Saturday was the first public performance of five of these from this season. There are also two industry people giving feedback after each performance. On to the shows! 

Man of My Dreams had three actors and a pianist (who, in this case was also the composer). The score was vaguely pop rock, and our protagonist was a gal who was meeting with her boyfriend who happened to be a blue haired girl—actually a character from a video game. The gal and the ‘boyfriend’ go on actual dates that are both contracted and scripted. Oh, the gal also has a husband. A real-life flesh and blood husband. The romantic triangle that ensues is pretty much left hanging at the end of the 20 minutes. The score and lyrics were pretty good, the performances were good, and the plot was relatively easy to follow. 

Elizabeth & Essex had four actors, a fifth person off to one side reading the stage directions, and a pianist/music director (who was not the composer this time). The score, at least parts of it, had a ’20s vibe. The plot was somewhat convoluted and involved a piece of missing mail, a Postal Warden condemning the mailboxes in the lobby of an apartment building, an underground pneumatic tube system for delivering mail from condemned mailboxes, and a Postal Pigeon. I’m not making this up, you know. Oh, the portal to enter the underground place was supposed to be at the corner of Elizabeth and Essex Streets in NYC, which run parallel to each other. (Did I mention a convoluted plot?) The Postal Worker’s song was swell. The title song slightly missed the mark. The Postal Pigeon’s song was hilarious. The minimal staging was witty. All in all, this was my favorite of the five. 

Up next was Joybot, the story of an Artificial Intelligence superintendent of a building on the Upper West Side of Manhattan. The five actors did a very good job of fleshing out the story, which revolved around getting some of the neighbors out of their insular, me-machine lives, and leading to them being real people relating with other as real people again. The music was pleasant enough, though one number dragged on a bit, and there was some nice harmony singing. A pleasant show with pleasant characters and pleasant music. 

The Atomic Age – A New Musical followed. The score was vaguely 1950s with some angular harmonies thrown in. The plot involved women in the workplace (punch card operators), two of whom end up hinting at a lesbian friendship/relationship that pretty much destroys the first woman’s marriage. There were references to the beginning of coding and a new, changing world. As one of the panelists noted, the piece sort of couldn’t make up its mind as to whether it had a ’50s vibe or a ’70s vibe. 

Dynamo was set in 1929 and dealt with creating new type of energy—hydropower—and the inevitable progress involved. The music wasn’t tremendously of the period, but the plot was interesting and the staging was very interesting. I wasn’t blown away by the music though I wasn’t turned off by it either. And all three actors did very good jobs. 

In fact, all of the performers in all five pieces were very good. From a musical standpoint, I found that some of the vocal writing, especially in the high ranges (both female and male) was a bit difficult and made the lyrics a little hard to understand. All told, it was a very enjoyable day letting me experience new theater. Will any of these shows have legs? Only time will tell. There is one more group of plays to be presented toward the end of May. I will be there. 

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Brooklyn Wind Symphony (3/14/26)

Saxophone Spring Showcase 

Danse Macabre – Camille Saint Saëns, arr. Dannel Espinoza 
Comets – Jun Nagao 
The Planets, Op. 32: Jupiter – Gustav Holst, arr. Jared Waters 
Give Me Hunger – Stacy Garrop 
Serenade No. 2 Op. 44 – Antonin Dvorak, arr. Frederick R. Heyburn 

I. Moderato quasi marcia; II. Minuetto; III. Andante con moto; IV. Finale 

First, the players. Eleven saxophonists – three soprano, three alto, two tenor, two baritone, one bass. The first piece was played by all eleven. All the pieces except the second included all eleven, making an interesting, imposing sound. This was a fun piece with the melody tossed around to the different ranges of the saxophones. There was also the same melody slightly altered in a middle section before returning to the original and ending the piece. 

The second was a quartet. If memory serves, it was soprano, two altos, and a tenor. The music was relatively modern but still fairly melodic, though it was also a little harsh at times. 

The Holst was very familiar to me and probably would be to you, too. It was nicely jolly (its subtitle is the Bringer of Jollity). It also had tricky rhythms that were executed very well. 

The fourth work was originally written for the all-male vocal group Chanticleer. As a vocal piece, it had text from a Carl Sandburg poem that dealt with angst tempered with joy and tenderness, and the poem was read onstage before we got into the saxophone version. It was modern—a few more dissonances than the Nagao, above. A tender section followed that began very sweetly while still including the dissonances. Parts of the chordal section (I could easily envision this part being sung) were quite pretty, bordering on the majestic. 

The Serenade was also familiar to me; it’s nice greeting old friends again. The first movement was solid and straightforward with a gentle second section. Then it built in volume and intensity before returning to the opening march but ending quietly. The second had a pleasant dance-like feel that then turned into a more energetic dance. It was rather long, but it held my interest just fine. The third movement had pretty themes and was lovely to listen to. It started out with nice rhythms and tunes—quite soothing even though the sound was full. The intensity was upped before being drawn back just a bit, ending quietly. The final movement had an energetic opening, then became pretty rollicking before calming down. This was followed by a return to the opening theme of the movement and building to a bang-up ending. 

It took a little getting used to the idea of a saxophone ensemble, but if you ever get the chance to hear one, grab on to it! 

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The Orchestra Now (3/8/26)

William Tell Overture – Gioachino Rossini (1792–1868)

Faust Ballet Music – Charles Gounod (1818–1893)
The Nubian Women; Adagio; Antique Dance; Cleopatra Variations; The Trojan Women; Mirror Variations; Dance of Phryné

Symphony in D Minor – César Franck (1822–1890)
Lento–Allegro non troppo; Allegretto; Allegro non troppo

(N.B. Fewer observations than usual because the house was so dark that I couldn't scribble notes. Not that there's anything wrong with that. Also, it's rare to hear a live, full orchestra concert for free in NYC. I'm a lucky fellow.)

This was a first for me, hearing the William Tell Overture live. There are several distinct sections to the overture, but almost everyone is familiar with the last one. I was surprised, in a sense, that I was so much more aware of the different sections. And I think that’s because I’m used to hearing engineered recordings—no real breaks, no hearing pages being turned, no chairs/feet scraping, etc. So, while the work seemed a bit choppy to me, I guess hearing the real deal is worth it, giving me a little more insight to both the music and my listening habits. 

The Gounod Faust Ballet Music was also familiar to me, though I’m not sure I’ve heard all seven sections at one time. It was fittingly Romantic (of that compositional era) and brought to mind swirling movements and pretty stage pictures. The seven sections worked well for me, whereas the Rossini didn’t quite flow as a through composed piece. It was lovely all around. 

The Franck symphony was also very enjoyable with broad grand themes and a sense of urgency at times. 

And we were treated to an encore (the first time I’ve heard this orchestra play one)—Dance of the Hours, from La Giocanda by Amilcare Ponchielli. Believe me, you’d recognize it. Probably as “Hello, Muddah, hello Faddah!”  

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Gotham Early Music Scene (2/26/26)

Lazzuli Baroque – New York Début
Viaggio d’Amore 

Luce Burrell ~ lute & theorbo; Rocky Duval ~ mezzo-soprano; Roseline Lambert ~ soprano; Caroline Nicolas ~ viola da gamba   

Hope 
Io son pur vezzosetta – Claudio Monteverdi (1567−1643) 
Soccorretemi per pietà – Giovanni Felice Sances (1600−1679)  

Infatuation
Godere e tacere – Barbara Strozzi (1619−1677)
Non è di gentil core – Claudio Monteverdi (1567−1643)  

Fighting 
Mentita – Barbara Strozzi (1619−1677)
Dialogo in Partenza – Strozzi   

Breakup
Che si può fare – Strozzi
La vita solitaria – Nicolò Fontei (?−1647)
Ohimè dovè il mio ben – Claudio Monteverdi (1567−1643)  

Happy ending 
Bella mia questo core ~ Amante – Felice Giovanni Stefani (17th century) 
Su su prendi la cetra o pastore – Sigismondo D’India (1582−1629)  

The first work was a vocal duet accompanied by viola da gamba and theorbo. (Do we all remember the theorbo—the lute on steroids?) The piece was fairly lively, with a slower section followed by back to jolly. The second was similar if a little more subdued. There were lots of runs up and down and quite a few melismas—one syllable sung to many, many notes. The piece ended with a slower section. 

The third work was, once again, very similar, which was a bit of a problem. I found myself not quite figuring out where one song ended and the next began, though I did manage to figure out where the fourth started. I lost track of the fifth song altogether. 

The sixth had a short theorbo solo that led into a lament performed by all four.  The seventh was for soprano accompanied by the gamba and theorbo, with the gamba featured quite prominently. 

Beginning with the eighth piece, the lute replaced the theorbo. Oddly, it seemed to have more of a presence than the larger instrument. This work was also a bit of a lament that was both sadder and more subdued. The ninth had a few dissonances that brought to mind some of the music of Carlo Gesualdo, a composer who stretched the ideas of harmony a little. And it captured the sadness quite well. 

The tenth had a lute opening that was a bright beginning to the “Happy ending” section of the program. It featured the mezzo along with the lute and gamba. A repeated rhythm from the lute added, and in fact caused, the drive of the piece. 

The final work brought back the theorbo, and it continued the rhythm driving the vocal duet. The gamba didn’t enter until after the extended opening and then it was time for it to shine. There was a nice build in volume and tempo to bring it to its conclusion. 

I liked the way the program was laid out—on paper. The execution did not quite work as planned, though. At first, I thought that the audience would hold applause until the end of each of the five sections, but that didn’t happen. As a result, each section did not seem to achieve its goal in the arc that looked so nice on paper. And I think that also contributed to not quite knowing where one song/section ended and the next began. Just a minor quibble, though. It was a nice program and exposed me to four composers I’d never heard of—Sances, Fontei, Stefani and D’India. I’m glad I went.

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