Saturday’s chamber music program was titled The Music of the Kennedy White House: 1961–1963 and featured The Serendip Piano Trio – Christiana Liberis, violin; In Hwa Lee, cello; and Alexander Wu, piano, arranger. Par for the course for a concert with Mr. Wu, he had interesting tidbits that he shared with us about the pieces on the program.
I. Felix Mendelssohn (1809–1847), Piano Trio No. 2 in d minor, opus 49, third movement – Scherzo – Leggero e vivace
II. Albert Hay Malotte (arr. by C. Deis), The Lord’s Prayer; George Gershwin (1898–1937), Virtuoso Etudes based on Gershwin (1924) (arr. by Earl Wild), Etude No. 3, The Man I Love, Etude No. 7, Fascinatin’ Rhythm
III. Leonard Bernstein (1918–1990), Somewhere from West Side Story, for violin and piano (arr. by R. Penaforte)
IV. Aaron Copland (1900–1990), Hoe-Down from Rodeo (Ballet Suite) (arr. by A. Wu)
V. Pablo Casals (1876–1973), Cant dell Ocells (Song of the Birds), for cello and piano
VI. Dave Brubeck (1920–2012), Blue Rondo a la Turk
VII. Paquito D’Rivera (b. 1948), Danzón (best guess, as it was announced from the stage)
VIII. Mendelssohn, Piano Trio No. 2 in d minor, opus 49, fourth movement – Finale – Allegro assai appassionato
All of the pieces had links to the Kennedy White House, but I may not have written all of them down. Pablo Casals played the Mendelssohn piano trio there, and he often ended concerts with his own Cant dell Ocells (and did so at the WH). Earl Wild played for the Kennedys and at the WH of five other presidents. Dave Brubeck played for the Kennedys, and saxophonist Paul Winter played the D’Rivera for the Kennedy WH. So, on to the music.
The Mendelssohn Scherzo was a bright and energetic way to open the concert and it had a delightful ending; the Finale was a brisk romp and a great way to close the concert. The famous Malotte “Lord’s Prayer” was played as a tribute to spirituals and the civil rights aspect of the times. Apparently Mahalia Jackson sang it there—this was a piano solo. The Earl Wild etudes are really wonderful pieces (I think I may have commented on them before). “The Man I Love” was a bit tentative, but Mr. Wu tore at the keyboard for a virtuosic performance of “Fascinatin’ Rhythm.” After it was over he said, slightly under his breath, “Too many notes.” I disagree and I’m pleased that I got to hear all of them.
“Somewhere” was a combination of a straightforward rendering with some jazz riffs thrown in for good measure. “Hoe-Down” was full-bodied fun, with a false ending and then an ending that actually topped it. The Casals cello piece had a mournful quality (hello! It’s the cello!) but also somehow a positive spin. Maybe the freedom of the birds? (That’s my spin and I’m sticking with it.)
The Brubeck was bluesy and jazzy—perfect for the Kennedy era. It took a basic 1-2-3-4-5-6-7-8 (or 1-2-3-4-5-6-7-8) rhythm and re-formed it to 1-2-3-1-2-3-1-2. I hope that makes sense. Try tapping the rhythm yourself. (Try it twice.) D’Rivera’s danzón had ballad-like sections contrasted with Latin rhythmic sections in a true mix of classical and jazz techniques.
All three musicians were top-notch players and they performed with that chamber music mentality where at any given time any one of the three is running the show. But really, Mr. Wu ran the show—he’s just a darned good entertainer, and his commentary is clear, easily accessible, and fun.
An Astor Piazzolla tango, “Oblivion,” written as part of a film score or used in a film score, was a well-played encore. It had a calm opening, was tuneful and easy to listen to, and was full and rich. Much like the entire afternoon.
ConcertMeister
Wednesday, November 13, 2013
Saturday, November 9, 2013
Chamber Music (11/5/13)
But with a twist. On Tuesday evening I heard Wolfgang Panhofer, cello, and Alfred Melichar, accordion, in a program of Vivaldi, Gubaidulina, Schubert, Verdi, Bischof, Kohn, and Piazzolla. Eclectic, to say the least. Cello and accordion? It was not quite as out of place as you might think. The accordion acted as an accompanying partner, much as a piano or an organ might.
Antonio Vivaldi (1678–1741) – Sonata in E Minor, RV 40; Largo, Allegro,
Largo, Allegro
Sofia Gubaidulina (1931–) – In Croce
Franz Schubert (1797–1828) –
Die schöne Müllerin, D. 795; Die Liebe Farbe, Trockne Blumen, Der Müller und
der Bach
Winterreise, D. 911; Irrlicht, Der stürmische Morgen, Der Leiermann
Die Forelle, D. 550
Giuseppe Verdi (1813–1902) – Messa da Requiem; Ingemisco
Rainer Bischof (1947–) – Cadenza (World Premiere)
Karl Kohn (1926–) – Canzonetta for accordion (US Premiere)
Astor Piazzolla (1921–1922) – Le Grand Tango
In the Vivaldi, I noticed a very full tone from the cello with a lighter, almost piano—or, more to the point, hurdy-gurdy—accompaniment. The second Largo movement had lyrical phrases (more so than the first Largo) and the final movement was Vivaldi at his jauntiest.
Ms. Gubaidulina’s very modern work reminded me more of cello and organ, with the accordion playing very close dissonant notes, half-step and whole-step juxtapositions, while the cello played mostly short phrases within a very small range with a swooping gesture to end the phrases. A frantic section followed where both instruments essentially shrieked, then the cellist strummed a single string and bounced the bow off of the strings over the equivalent of a pedal point (one sustained pitch for a long period of time) from the accordion.
Schubert’s songs were interesting to hear in this context, though I’m not familiar enough with either of the song cycles to really compare them to the original intent. It was also a little strange to hear them without all of the repeats, but without the strophic texts, it really wasn’t necessary. Of the three Winterreise songs, the first had a very effective diminuendo from the accordion at the end; the second was very brief, with a martial quality; and the third was quite melancholy.
Ingemisco finally gave me what I had been craving all along—a really singing tone from the cello and a more fully supportive sound from the accordion. Part of that was Verdi, I’m sure, but that fullness had been lacking earlier.
Cadenza requires a little bit of explanation. A cadenza is a brief solo at the end of a concerto movement that is sometimes improvised, sometimes hinted at by the composer, and sometimes truly composed. In this case, Mr. Panhofer will be playing a cello concerto by Arthur Honegger in Moscow in the near future. This cadenza (I’m not sure for which movement) was composed by Rainer Bischof for that occasion. Mr. Panhofer wisely chose to premiere the cadenza here rather than waiting for the concerto performance. It was certainly fiery and at several points he snapped the strings so hard that they thwacked against the fingerboard. I’m pretty sure that was the intent.
The Kohn Canzonetta was composed for Mr. Melichar and consisted of short phrases along with some more sustained, almost Romantic-feeling phrases and included “shakes” and “wheezes” as well as other varied accordion techniques.
Piazzolla’s tango was definitely dance-like, exploiting and exploring traditional phrases and then expanding them and expounding on them. This turned them into a very contemporary piece while not losing the tango’s historical feel and flare.
A note on the accordion—the style played was a button accordion, where there are not the usual (to me) piano-style keys.
http://tinyurl.com/owjz4r8
It seems to me that this increased the range of the right hand (melody hand) by quite a bit.
ConcertMeister
Antonio Vivaldi (1678–1741) – Sonata in E Minor, RV 40; Largo, Allegro,
Largo, Allegro
Sofia Gubaidulina (1931–) – In Croce
Franz Schubert (1797–1828) –
Die schöne Müllerin, D. 795; Die Liebe Farbe, Trockne Blumen, Der Müller und
der Bach
Winterreise, D. 911; Irrlicht, Der stürmische Morgen, Der Leiermann
Die Forelle, D. 550
Giuseppe Verdi (1813–1902) – Messa da Requiem; Ingemisco
Rainer Bischof (1947–) – Cadenza (World Premiere)
Karl Kohn (1926–) – Canzonetta for accordion (US Premiere)
Astor Piazzolla (1921–1922) – Le Grand Tango
In the Vivaldi, I noticed a very full tone from the cello with a lighter, almost piano—or, more to the point, hurdy-gurdy—accompaniment. The second Largo movement had lyrical phrases (more so than the first Largo) and the final movement was Vivaldi at his jauntiest.
Ms. Gubaidulina’s very modern work reminded me more of cello and organ, with the accordion playing very close dissonant notes, half-step and whole-step juxtapositions, while the cello played mostly short phrases within a very small range with a swooping gesture to end the phrases. A frantic section followed where both instruments essentially shrieked, then the cellist strummed a single string and bounced the bow off of the strings over the equivalent of a pedal point (one sustained pitch for a long period of time) from the accordion.
Schubert’s songs were interesting to hear in this context, though I’m not familiar enough with either of the song cycles to really compare them to the original intent. It was also a little strange to hear them without all of the repeats, but without the strophic texts, it really wasn’t necessary. Of the three Winterreise songs, the first had a very effective diminuendo from the accordion at the end; the second was very brief, with a martial quality; and the third was quite melancholy.
Ingemisco finally gave me what I had been craving all along—a really singing tone from the cello and a more fully supportive sound from the accordion. Part of that was Verdi, I’m sure, but that fullness had been lacking earlier.
Cadenza requires a little bit of explanation. A cadenza is a brief solo at the end of a concerto movement that is sometimes improvised, sometimes hinted at by the composer, and sometimes truly composed. In this case, Mr. Panhofer will be playing a cello concerto by Arthur Honegger in Moscow in the near future. This cadenza (I’m not sure for which movement) was composed by Rainer Bischof for that occasion. Mr. Panhofer wisely chose to premiere the cadenza here rather than waiting for the concerto performance. It was certainly fiery and at several points he snapped the strings so hard that they thwacked against the fingerboard. I’m pretty sure that was the intent.
The Kohn Canzonetta was composed for Mr. Melichar and consisted of short phrases along with some more sustained, almost Romantic-feeling phrases and included “shakes” and “wheezes” as well as other varied accordion techniques.
Piazzolla’s tango was definitely dance-like, exploiting and exploring traditional phrases and then expanding them and expounding on them. This turned them into a very contemporary piece while not losing the tango’s historical feel and flare.
A note on the accordion—the style played was a button accordion, where there are not the usual (to me) piano-style keys.
http://tinyurl.com/owjz4r8
It seems to me that this increased the range of the right hand (melody hand) by quite a bit.
ConcertMeister
Tuesday, November 5, 2013
Barber and Moore (10/26/13)
Well, the title was certainly misleading—pianist Benjamin Bradham did play a Samuel Barber sonata, as well as works by Mozart, Beethoven Brahms, and Liszt. Maybe Moore was supposed to be More?
W. A. Mozart (1756–1791) – Rondo in D major; K. 485; Rondo in a minor, K. 511
L. van Beethoven (1770–1827) – Sonata in f minor (“Appassionata”), Op. 57, Allegro assai, Andante con moto, Allegro ma non troppo
Johannes Brahms (1833–1897) – Capriccio in f-sharp minor, Op. 76, No. 1; Intermezzo in B-flat Major, Op. 76, No. 4; Capriccio in g minor, Op. 116, No. 3; Intermezzo, Op. 116, No. 6
Franz Liszt (1811–1886) – Valse Oubliée (“Forgotten Waltz”); Transcendental Etude No. 10 in f minor
Samuel Barber (1910–1981) – Sonata in e-flat minor, Op. 26 (1949), Allegro energico, Allegro vivace e leggiero, Adagio mesto, Fugue: Allegro con spirito
The opening Rondo had a lightness, but also some heft, and there was a lot of variation in the piece. The second had a calm beginning that was gentle but not somber; however, it did not hold my interest as well as the first. It did, though, explore depths that I don’t usually associate with Mozart and was less predictable than I expected.
The Beethoven sonata had wide-ranging themes and used various styles of composition including bursts of power. With its chorale-like opening that then expanded, it felt meditative, even in the faster sections. In general, it was well contained, never getting away from the pianist (though I think there were a few fingering flubs).
The first of the Brahms pieces was pleasant, with harmonies that were deeper and steeped in the Romantic era. The second was gentle and fuller while the third had an explosive opening followed by a contrasting section and was grander than the first capriccio. The last reminded me of a song, at least in the opening, and then moved on to different sections that didn’t quite mesh together, for me, finishing with a gentle ending.
The Liszt waltz was playful and segmented, with a very odd ending. I got the feeling of a soirée or parlor piece as opposed to a more formal composition. The etude that followed had more of the pianistic fireworks I associate with Liszt and was much more fully realized than the waltz was.
Finally, the Barber sonata was totally new to me—modern sounding but with a form that I could follow. My notes include: “a bit of bombast, but to what purpose?” The second movement had a light feel, with repeated motifs, almost like a music box gone awry. The third was slow and fairly mesmerizing, and felt slightly adrift with modern, but pleasing, phrases. It built into a louder section then returned to quietude. The fugue opened with an angular, rhythmic theme that then seemed to splinter a bit. I didn’t really sense a lot of fugue-like phrases. All in all, I enjoyed the piece and might even try to seek out a recording in order to give it a second listen.
As an encore, Mr. Bradham played Chopin’s E Minor Prelude, an absolutely haunting way to end the afternoon.
ConcertMeister
W. A. Mozart (1756–1791) – Rondo in D major; K. 485; Rondo in a minor, K. 511
L. van Beethoven (1770–1827) – Sonata in f minor (“Appassionata”), Op. 57, Allegro assai, Andante con moto, Allegro ma non troppo
Johannes Brahms (1833–1897) – Capriccio in f-sharp minor, Op. 76, No. 1; Intermezzo in B-flat Major, Op. 76, No. 4; Capriccio in g minor, Op. 116, No. 3; Intermezzo, Op. 116, No. 6
Franz Liszt (1811–1886) – Valse Oubliée (“Forgotten Waltz”); Transcendental Etude No. 10 in f minor
Samuel Barber (1910–1981) – Sonata in e-flat minor, Op. 26 (1949), Allegro energico, Allegro vivace e leggiero, Adagio mesto, Fugue: Allegro con spirito
The opening Rondo had a lightness, but also some heft, and there was a lot of variation in the piece. The second had a calm beginning that was gentle but not somber; however, it did not hold my interest as well as the first. It did, though, explore depths that I don’t usually associate with Mozart and was less predictable than I expected.
The Beethoven sonata had wide-ranging themes and used various styles of composition including bursts of power. With its chorale-like opening that then expanded, it felt meditative, even in the faster sections. In general, it was well contained, never getting away from the pianist (though I think there were a few fingering flubs).
The first of the Brahms pieces was pleasant, with harmonies that were deeper and steeped in the Romantic era. The second was gentle and fuller while the third had an explosive opening followed by a contrasting section and was grander than the first capriccio. The last reminded me of a song, at least in the opening, and then moved on to different sections that didn’t quite mesh together, for me, finishing with a gentle ending.
The Liszt waltz was playful and segmented, with a very odd ending. I got the feeling of a soirée or parlor piece as opposed to a more formal composition. The etude that followed had more of the pianistic fireworks I associate with Liszt and was much more fully realized than the waltz was.
Finally, the Barber sonata was totally new to me—modern sounding but with a form that I could follow. My notes include: “a bit of bombast, but to what purpose?” The second movement had a light feel, with repeated motifs, almost like a music box gone awry. The third was slow and fairly mesmerizing, and felt slightly adrift with modern, but pleasing, phrases. It built into a louder section then returned to quietude. The fugue opened with an angular, rhythmic theme that then seemed to splinter a bit. I didn’t really sense a lot of fugue-like phrases. All in all, I enjoyed the piece and might even try to seek out a recording in order to give it a second listen.
As an encore, Mr. Bradham played Chopin’s E Minor Prelude, an absolutely haunting way to end the afternoon.
ConcertMeister
Wednesday, October 23, 2013
New York Repertory Orchestra (10/19/13)
As the program notes say, NYRO is NYC’s leading all-volunteer orchestra, made up of professional and amateur musicians. I have always found their playing to be of a very high caliber and Saturday night was no exception. Also of interest to me is the fact that they play repertory that is not so well known. Here’s the program:
Památník Lidicím (Memorial to Lidice) (1943), Bohuslav Martinu
(1890–1959)
Cello Concerto No. 2 in D Major (1783), I. Allegro moderato; II. Adagio;
III. Rondo: Allegro, Franz Joseph Haydn (1732–1809)
Symphony No. 2 in B-flat, Op. 57 (1903), I. Exrêmement lent – Trés vif;
II. Modérément lent; III. Modéré; IV. Lent – Modéré et solennel – Assez vif, Vincent d’Indy (1851–1931)
The backstory on the Martinu is that on a night in 1942, as a result of a Nazi massacre, the village of Lidice, Czechoslovakia, ceased to exist. Appropriately, the music was somber and bleak, yet still pretty. The bass drum and tympani were heard to good effect—not ominous, exactly—quietly commenting on what has passed.
The Haydn was a complete turnaround. The cello soloist, Kasja William-Olsson, played very well throughout. The opening was easygoing and light, but the acoustics in the Church of St. Mary the Virgin reverberate a great deal so as to create balance problems from time to time. I was aware of a couple of very minor intonation mismatches between the soloist and orchestra, which may have been due to the acoustics. The second movement had a gentle tempo and featured the cello front and center very well. Ms. Olsson had a nice way of sending the solo line back into the orchestra—this worked better in the second movement than in the first. While both movements had cadenzas (a showy solo for the featured player toward the end of the movement), I also preferred the second to the first. The closing Rondo was pleasant, though there were still minor balance and tempo issues, once again due to the acoustics.
In general, the d’Indy had a fresh, modern, and full style that seemed to give compositional nods to the music of César Franck and Camille Saint-Saëns. The first movement had an almost cinematic quality, with broad strokes. It meandered a bit, but had a strong finish. The second movement had slightly more open writing, with individual lines featured, still maintaining a feeling of fullness. While pleasant, it was not really compelling. Movement three had a lilting opening yet still failed to draw me in. And the fourth movement was well constructed, technically, unfortunately without a real payoff.
Hearing music of different composers is a good thing, and I’m glad I got to hear d’Indy. I think I’d rather hear something different next time. Some more Martinu would be nice, too. Papa Haydn I’m happy to hear any time. Thank you, NYRO, for broadening my (and NYC’s) horizons.
ConcertMeister
Památník Lidicím (Memorial to Lidice) (1943), Bohuslav Martinu
(1890–1959)
Cello Concerto No. 2 in D Major (1783), I. Allegro moderato; II. Adagio;
III. Rondo: Allegro, Franz Joseph Haydn (1732–1809)
Symphony No. 2 in B-flat, Op. 57 (1903), I. Exrêmement lent – Trés vif;
II. Modérément lent; III. Modéré; IV. Lent – Modéré et solennel – Assez vif, Vincent d’Indy (1851–1931)
The backstory on the Martinu is that on a night in 1942, as a result of a Nazi massacre, the village of Lidice, Czechoslovakia, ceased to exist. Appropriately, the music was somber and bleak, yet still pretty. The bass drum and tympani were heard to good effect—not ominous, exactly—quietly commenting on what has passed.
The Haydn was a complete turnaround. The cello soloist, Kasja William-Olsson, played very well throughout. The opening was easygoing and light, but the acoustics in the Church of St. Mary the Virgin reverberate a great deal so as to create balance problems from time to time. I was aware of a couple of very minor intonation mismatches between the soloist and orchestra, which may have been due to the acoustics. The second movement had a gentle tempo and featured the cello front and center very well. Ms. Olsson had a nice way of sending the solo line back into the orchestra—this worked better in the second movement than in the first. While both movements had cadenzas (a showy solo for the featured player toward the end of the movement), I also preferred the second to the first. The closing Rondo was pleasant, though there were still minor balance and tempo issues, once again due to the acoustics.
In general, the d’Indy had a fresh, modern, and full style that seemed to give compositional nods to the music of César Franck and Camille Saint-Saëns. The first movement had an almost cinematic quality, with broad strokes. It meandered a bit, but had a strong finish. The second movement had slightly more open writing, with individual lines featured, still maintaining a feeling of fullness. While pleasant, it was not really compelling. Movement three had a lilting opening yet still failed to draw me in. And the fourth movement was well constructed, technically, unfortunately without a real payoff.
Hearing music of different composers is a good thing, and I’m glad I got to hear d’Indy. I think I’d rather hear something different next time. Some more Martinu would be nice, too. Papa Haydn I’m happy to hear any time. Thank you, NYRO, for broadening my (and NYC’s) horizons.
ConcertMeister
Friday, October 18, 2013
Brooklyn, the Bronx and, yes, Queens—OHNY
October 12 and 13 were this year’s dates for Open House New York, and I was determined to be less Manhattan-centric. Open House New York is when various architectural gems and historic places are open to the public. Beginning with last year (I think that was the first), some sites required a reservation and a $5.00 fee. I avoided those.
My first site of the weekend was the Edgar Allan Poe Cottage in the Bronx. Built about 1812, Poe lived there from 1846 to 1849, and wrote Annabel Lee, Ulalume, and The Bells there. (Keeping time, time, time in a sort of Runic* rhyme that so musically wells from ... the bells ... .) According to the brief video I saw there, a large bell at what is now known as Fordham University was the inspiration for The Bells.
My next stop was the Fort Tryon Cottage in upper Manhattan. It was the gatekeeper’s cottage for the C.K.G. Billings estate. Billings had a very large stable on the estate, and managed to build a winding trail down to the Hudson River. The trail used bricks with beveled edges on all sides, in order to allow the horses to gain traction on the steep ascent. This cottage dated from 1903. Both cottages are quite small compared to housing in this day and age.
After an architectural respite, where I saw the 1925 version of the silent film The Phantom of the Opera, I zipped down to Greenwich Village to take in the Jefferson Market Library and its winding tower staircase. Alas, when I got there, they had just announced that the people who were already on the line would be the last ones to make the climb. Shoot. Well, maybe – next year!
Sunday’s adventure started in Brooklyn, with the City Reliquary—a small, quirky museum with lots of New York-iana, including different types of granite and schist that form the bedrock of NYC, plus lots of Statue of Liberty items, World’s Fair items, subway items (including a door!), etc. It was an OK experience, but I’m glad I got to see it for free.
A short subway ride took me to mid-Manhattan and a tour of Central Synagogue, at Lexington Avenue and 55th Street. It’s absolutely gorgeous inside—after a fire in 1998, the building was restored to its original 1872 glory, based on plans of Henry Fernbach, the original architect.
After a mini-battle trying to cross Fifth Avenue (yet another parade on Fifth, with limited access to crossing), I spent a few minutes strolling through Fifth Avenue Presbyterian Church. There was conflicting information about when a tour, including the organ, would be occurring, so I just did a cursory walkthrough.
A subway and bus combo (there was no #7 train service on the weekend) got me to the Lewis H. Latimer house in Flushing, Queens. This is an 1880s Queen Anne–style wooden house. Latimer was the son of slaves who fled Virginia (Norfolk, unfortunately) and ended up in the Boston area. Mr. Latimer was a self-taught mechanical draftsman and worked with Alexander Graham Bell and Thomas Edison. He was involved in the development of the telephone and inventing carbon filaments, to extend the useful life of incandescent bulbs. He was a highly celebrated African American electrical pioneer. He lived in the house, that is now an NYC landmark, from 1903 until his death in 1928.
On the way back to the bus, I caught a glimpse of a very nice looking building that turned out to be Flushing Town Hall, which is now a performing arts venue. And I caught the last day of an art exhibit there and saw a collage installation dealing with the life of Louis Armstrong.
So, no concerts, but definitely lots of culture during OHNY weekend.
ConcertMeister
*Info upon request
My first site of the weekend was the Edgar Allan Poe Cottage in the Bronx. Built about 1812, Poe lived there from 1846 to 1849, and wrote Annabel Lee, Ulalume, and The Bells there. (Keeping time, time, time in a sort of Runic* rhyme that so musically wells from ... the bells ... .) According to the brief video I saw there, a large bell at what is now known as Fordham University was the inspiration for The Bells.
My next stop was the Fort Tryon Cottage in upper Manhattan. It was the gatekeeper’s cottage for the C.K.G. Billings estate. Billings had a very large stable on the estate, and managed to build a winding trail down to the Hudson River. The trail used bricks with beveled edges on all sides, in order to allow the horses to gain traction on the steep ascent. This cottage dated from 1903. Both cottages are quite small compared to housing in this day and age.
After an architectural respite, where I saw the 1925 version of the silent film The Phantom of the Opera, I zipped down to Greenwich Village to take in the Jefferson Market Library and its winding tower staircase. Alas, when I got there, they had just announced that the people who were already on the line would be the last ones to make the climb. Shoot. Well, maybe – next year!
Sunday’s adventure started in Brooklyn, with the City Reliquary—a small, quirky museum with lots of New York-iana, including different types of granite and schist that form the bedrock of NYC, plus lots of Statue of Liberty items, World’s Fair items, subway items (including a door!), etc. It was an OK experience, but I’m glad I got to see it for free.
A short subway ride took me to mid-Manhattan and a tour of Central Synagogue, at Lexington Avenue and 55th Street. It’s absolutely gorgeous inside—after a fire in 1998, the building was restored to its original 1872 glory, based on plans of Henry Fernbach, the original architect.
After a mini-battle trying to cross Fifth Avenue (yet another parade on Fifth, with limited access to crossing), I spent a few minutes strolling through Fifth Avenue Presbyterian Church. There was conflicting information about when a tour, including the organ, would be occurring, so I just did a cursory walkthrough.
A subway and bus combo (there was no #7 train service on the weekend) got me to the Lewis H. Latimer house in Flushing, Queens. This is an 1880s Queen Anne–style wooden house. Latimer was the son of slaves who fled Virginia (Norfolk, unfortunately) and ended up in the Boston area. Mr. Latimer was a self-taught mechanical draftsman and worked with Alexander Graham Bell and Thomas Edison. He was involved in the development of the telephone and inventing carbon filaments, to extend the useful life of incandescent bulbs. He was a highly celebrated African American electrical pioneer. He lived in the house, that is now an NYC landmark, from 1903 until his death in 1928.
On the way back to the bus, I caught a glimpse of a very nice looking building that turned out to be Flushing Town Hall, which is now a performing arts venue. And I caught the last day of an art exhibit there and saw a collage installation dealing with the life of Louis Armstrong.
So, no concerts, but definitely lots of culture during OHNY weekend.
ConcertMeister
*Info upon request
Friday, October 11, 2013
Klezmer Quartet (10/6/13)
Golly, how to explain klezmer? It has its roots in Jewish folk music—Russian, Eastern European, etc. Think “Hava Nagila,” working up to a whirling-dervish tempo. This concert was titled David Krakauer’s Acoustic Klezmer Quartet, with David Krakauer, clarinet, Will Holshouser, accordion, Nicki Parrott, bass, and Michael Sarin, drums, and was part of the Carnegie Hall Neighborhood Concert program. The songs were all announced from the stage, so I may not get them exactly right.
The opener was called “The Street Song,” and was a traditional piece. It started with the string bass (amplified) playing what could have seemed like a dirge, but then the piece built in intensity, volume, and complexity, with a structure similar to that in some jazz arrangements. This was followed by a piece that combined old and new—
a traditional tune that was then continued into a newer section composed by
Mr. Krakauer. The clarinet playing was very energetic and the bass player actually danced a bit with her instrument. Once again, similar to jazz, there was an extended bass solo.
“The Dusky Bulgar,” composed by Mr. Holshouer, dealt with identity exploration and was a bit darker and ever so slightly more downbeat, though still very enjoyable. This was followed by “The Gypsy Bulgar,” with a sort of walking ragtime feel, swinging into jazz, a short waltz/dance feel—the rhythms seemed very straightforward, but then you go, “Whoa! There are really intricate things going on here,” with lots of pitch bending, higher-range clarinet playing, and the audience clapping along. Sort of like a Jewish wedding.
While the music was interesting, there was also a sameness to it that didn’t quite appeal to me. “Moldavian Voyage” had the clarinet playing in a lower register that I found very pleasing. Another piece written by Mr. Krakauer was composed for his grandfather from Lemberg (now Lvov, Ukraine). To me, it seemed as though it shifted between a nice sweet situation, to a darker situation, brought on by a remembered history—then shifting to one last high-range shriek of the clarinet before returning to the remembered sweetness. That was the feeling it evoked in me.
Throughout, all four players were just great, and all of them were featured at one time or another, once again hearkening back to jazz traditions. And the audience response was very enthusiastic. An encore (no title announced) showcased a technique called “circular breathing,” where the clarinetist plays a continuous tone by breathing in through his nose while pushing air out through his mouth, using air that is stored in his cheeks. It’s an impressive thing to see and hear and the audience ate it up. I enjoyed the concert a lot, but just wished for a little more variety—maybe that’s just the nature of klezmer.
ConcertMeister
The opener was called “The Street Song,” and was a traditional piece. It started with the string bass (amplified) playing what could have seemed like a dirge, but then the piece built in intensity, volume, and complexity, with a structure similar to that in some jazz arrangements. This was followed by a piece that combined old and new—
a traditional tune that was then continued into a newer section composed by
Mr. Krakauer. The clarinet playing was very energetic and the bass player actually danced a bit with her instrument. Once again, similar to jazz, there was an extended bass solo.
“The Dusky Bulgar,” composed by Mr. Holshouer, dealt with identity exploration and was a bit darker and ever so slightly more downbeat, though still very enjoyable. This was followed by “The Gypsy Bulgar,” with a sort of walking ragtime feel, swinging into jazz, a short waltz/dance feel—the rhythms seemed very straightforward, but then you go, “Whoa! There are really intricate things going on here,” with lots of pitch bending, higher-range clarinet playing, and the audience clapping along. Sort of like a Jewish wedding.
While the music was interesting, there was also a sameness to it that didn’t quite appeal to me. “Moldavian Voyage” had the clarinet playing in a lower register that I found very pleasing. Another piece written by Mr. Krakauer was composed for his grandfather from Lemberg (now Lvov, Ukraine). To me, it seemed as though it shifted between a nice sweet situation, to a darker situation, brought on by a remembered history—then shifting to one last high-range shriek of the clarinet before returning to the remembered sweetness. That was the feeling it evoked in me.
Throughout, all four players were just great, and all of them were featured at one time or another, once again hearkening back to jazz traditions. And the audience response was very enthusiastic. An encore (no title announced) showcased a technique called “circular breathing,” where the clarinetist plays a continuous tone by breathing in through his nose while pushing air out through his mouth, using air that is stored in his cheeks. It’s an impressive thing to see and hear and the audience ate it up. I enjoyed the concert a lot, but just wished for a little more variety—maybe that’s just the nature of klezmer.
ConcertMeister
Thursday, October 3, 2013
Songbook in a New Season (9/30/13)
Songbook, as I need to remind myself to remind you from time to time, is a program that highlights the work of up and coming composers and lyricists or, as in this particular case, new work from already established composers and lyricists. The featured duo on Monday evening was Joshua Salzman and Ryan Cunningham, featuring selections from The Legend of New York. On hand were five principals and an ensemble of ten vocalists, with Mr. Cunningham (I hope I got that right) serving as narrator.
The gist of the plot of the morality play is that Abe, a disillusioned New Yorker, is saddled with the job of finding three worthy souls in order to save New York from destruction (haggling was involved). The Angel of the Waters, a wisecracking guardian angel, is the one who sets him on his quest. So Abe has to present the three worthies at the top of the city within a prescribed time frame. Oh, yeah. There will also be an Act of God thrown in as a monkey wrench. The Act of God turns out to be the 1977 New York City blackout. This is important, as it flavors some of the compositional styles. The opening number had real harmony! from the ensemble members, with the Angel laying out in no uncertain terms “That’s New York.”
We then hear “Heavenly House on a Hill,” sung by Abe (with his wife, Sarah). This was a wishful, seeing-the-positive-side-of-things song, with some nice humor and a good setting of sung speech. “Get Gone” and “Cloud 54” were set clearly in the rock genre, which makes perfect sense, since they’re set in and around Studio 54 in 1977. “Not for You” was a Disco Diva–style number that definitely channeled “I Will Survive.” And—end Act I.
Act II finds Abe trekking with the three worthy souls up to Inwood Park, the top of New York City. Then he learns that the Guardian Angel really meant the top of the World Trade Center. At that point, the blackout hits, and they need to get all the way downtown and to the top of the Towers. A rioter leads the ensemble in “Get a Load of This,” which neatly outlines the fears and unpredictability of the blackout. Between dealing with the rioters and a mysterious man, one of the worthies is shot and killed. With only two worthy souls delivered, the Angel says, “No deal.”
Sarah sings a rather pleasant ballad, “Him,” and Abe’s brother and the Disco Diva (the other two worthies) decide to back out and try their luck with NYC once the deal with the Guardian Angel is off. Abe is offered a chance to be swept up to heaven with Sarah, but he too decides to stick with NYC, in the power ballad “The Sun Rises Again.” And “Heaven Can Wait,” a slightly lightweight duet, in my consideration, has Abe and Sarah committed to New York, come what may.
As mentioned earlier, these writers are seasoned a bit more than some others I’ve seen and heard in this ongoing series. They’ve already had one Off-Broadway show produced, I Love You Because, and another musical, Next Thing You Know, has also been produced elsewhere. The music for The Legend of New York was, for the most part, very well conceived and performed. I can see this show having a future life.
A special shout out goes to John Znidarsic, Producer/Director of the series (Monday evening began the 23rd season) and another shout out to Cheryl D. Raymond, Manager Public Programs and Special Events at the New York Public Library for the Performing Arts.
ConcertMeister
The gist of the plot of the morality play is that Abe, a disillusioned New Yorker, is saddled with the job of finding three worthy souls in order to save New York from destruction (haggling was involved). The Angel of the Waters, a wisecracking guardian angel, is the one who sets him on his quest. So Abe has to present the three worthies at the top of the city within a prescribed time frame. Oh, yeah. There will also be an Act of God thrown in as a monkey wrench. The Act of God turns out to be the 1977 New York City blackout. This is important, as it flavors some of the compositional styles. The opening number had real harmony! from the ensemble members, with the Angel laying out in no uncertain terms “That’s New York.”
We then hear “Heavenly House on a Hill,” sung by Abe (with his wife, Sarah). This was a wishful, seeing-the-positive-side-of-things song, with some nice humor and a good setting of sung speech. “Get Gone” and “Cloud 54” were set clearly in the rock genre, which makes perfect sense, since they’re set in and around Studio 54 in 1977. “Not for You” was a Disco Diva–style number that definitely channeled “I Will Survive.” And—end Act I.
Act II finds Abe trekking with the three worthy souls up to Inwood Park, the top of New York City. Then he learns that the Guardian Angel really meant the top of the World Trade Center. At that point, the blackout hits, and they need to get all the way downtown and to the top of the Towers. A rioter leads the ensemble in “Get a Load of This,” which neatly outlines the fears and unpredictability of the blackout. Between dealing with the rioters and a mysterious man, one of the worthies is shot and killed. With only two worthy souls delivered, the Angel says, “No deal.”
Sarah sings a rather pleasant ballad, “Him,” and Abe’s brother and the Disco Diva (the other two worthies) decide to back out and try their luck with NYC once the deal with the Guardian Angel is off. Abe is offered a chance to be swept up to heaven with Sarah, but he too decides to stick with NYC, in the power ballad “The Sun Rises Again.” And “Heaven Can Wait,” a slightly lightweight duet, in my consideration, has Abe and Sarah committed to New York, come what may.
As mentioned earlier, these writers are seasoned a bit more than some others I’ve seen and heard in this ongoing series. They’ve already had one Off-Broadway show produced, I Love You Because, and another musical, Next Thing You Know, has also been produced elsewhere. The music for The Legend of New York was, for the most part, very well conceived and performed. I can see this show having a future life.
A special shout out goes to John Znidarsic, Producer/Director of the series (Monday evening began the 23rd season) and another shout out to Cheryl D. Raymond, Manager Public Programs and Special Events at the New York Public Library for the Performing Arts.
ConcertMeister
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