Via the Silent Clowns Film Series, Saturday afternoon at the movies featured Hal Roach’s Our Gang in four shorts—Firefighters (1922); Thundering Fleas (1926); Baby Clothes (1926); and Crazy House (1928). With Our Gang spanning from 1922 to 1944, we learned that once a core group was established, different kids were brought into the fold as others outgrew the films. But the Gang had a fairly set cast of characters—a freckle-faced kid, the pretty girl he has a crush on, a good-natured fat boy, and a wiseacre black kid who was usually named after cereal (thank you, Steve Massa, for your fun and informative Program Notes).
I was really surprised by the number of costumed animals in Firefighters. There was a pair of geese, several chickens, and a dog, as well as an un-costumed mule, cat, pony, and dog. And at one point toward the end of the film, all of the animals were drunk, since the fire wagon pumper that the Gang commandeered was actually a moonshine still. When attempting to put out a “fire” (really just some steam from Ma’s cook stove), the pumper was hauled by the pony, the ladder truck was pushed by the mule, and a sled was pulled by the dog, with the sled holding the driver and the fire chief (the littlest of the Gang).
Thundering Fleas managed to incorporate live action (the Gang) with animation (the star flea of a flea circus). The star flea flees, and the Gang sets out to find him, amassing many, many fleas along the way. The fleas infest the Gang in one scene and then infest a group of adults at a wedding ceremony. Every time the pastor asks the worried bridegroom whether he takes the woman as his wife, the fleas attack him and all he can do is keep shaking his head, No. Funny situations, leading to funny comedy. Funny how that works.
Baby Clothes involves an adult little person being punished for picking a fight with a kid. He has to wear baby clothes until he sees the error of his ways and he gives up fighting. Well, that’s not going to happen. Another plot twist has a couple bemoaning the fact that the $50 a month they receive from an uncle would be nice if it was more money. Of course, the uncle is sending the money for the care of their two children (which they don’t have). When it’s learned that the uncle will be making a visit, money changes hands with a hotel employee and the Gang gets pressed into service imitating an eight-year-old girl and a two-year-old baby. Well the girl is a Gang guy in drag and the baby is one of the other Gang members. Uncle arrives, different situations lead to multiple babies, including the black Gang player at the time, Farina (Allen) Hoskins, playing the baby. Uncle hauled out Farina as his surprise for the scheming couple. I don’t really remember how the zaniness ended, but there were laughs a-plenty.
Crazy House has a plot device where the adults are planning an April Fool’s Day party, so everything in a local mansion has been altered—air jets coming up from the floor, electric shocks from the piano bench, all of the food made from rubber and/or cotton wool, etc. Somehow, when the adults leave for a bit the Gang gets in and all of the craziness affects them, too. Eventually the adults come back, mayhem ensues, and at the end there is a massive balloon drop. While the police try to make some sense of the scene, the Gang manages to crawl through the adults’ legs, and get balloons attached to them, so the last sight we see is the new Balloon Gang running away down the street.
Even though for me and most of my generation, Our Gang equates to The Little Rascals television revival of the talkies Our Gang films from the end of their movie run, I was surprised at how many title cards all of the films I saw had, and how briefly each was on display. It makes me think that the original silents were geared more toward adults than to children, who probably wouldn’t be able to read the words that quickly. Then again, maybe the sight gags alone were enough to thrill the children.
As always, Ben Model did a bang-up job as the afternoon’s accompanist on the grand piano, Bruce Lawton provided the commentary at the beginning of the afternoon, and the aforementioned Mr. Massa joined them on the stage after the screenings to take questions from the enthusiastic crowd. The hall was filled almost to capacity, and this on a spring day that could have kept lots of people outdoors. The only thing missing was the popcorn (no food is allowed in the Bruno Walter Auditorium).
ConcertMeister
Wednesday, May 18, 2016
Saturday, May 14, 2016
Jane’s Walks (5/7–8/16)
I discovered Jane’s Walks (named for activist/author Jane Jacobs, who would have turned 100 this year) last May, when I went on a tour of outdoor murals in East Harlem. So I was really glad to see/hear about them again this year. I had a very ambitious list for myself, and while I didn’t do them all, the ones I actually did were tons of fun.
The first was Saturday morning at 10:30 called Mansions, Money, and Scandal: Gilded Age Splendor on the Upper East Side. The tour guide,
Alan Engler, was superb! He brought wit and humor to the plate, as well as lots of knowledge. I had a noon walk on my schedule, in case I wanted to leave the first tour early. As they say in Hawai’i, “No-a way-a!” In a concentrated area (East 70th Street/Fifth Avenue/East 72nd Street/Madison Avenue, down to East 66th Street), he packed in a ton of very interesting tidbits, even pointing out something that most New Yorkers and tourists alike had not seen in a long time—the sun! I highly recommend this tour. In fact, I did recommend it to other Jane’s Walkers I met on Saturday, since he repeated it on Sunday morning. Interestingly, one of the first stories he recounted was about himself. He’s given this tour before as Gilded Age Splendor on the Upper East Side. He got double the attendees after he added the Mansions, Money, and Scandal part. I even jotted down other buildings to visit and the titles of a couple of books to possibly explore.
Walk number two, at 2:00 in the afternoon, also had a catchy title. Home on the Grange chronicled the history and moving of Alexander Hamilton’s home that he had built in Harlem in 1802. Although there is a Hamilton Heights Historic District, Hamilton always referred to his neighborhood as Harlem. According to the Park Ranger leading the tour, Hamilton Heights, as a neighborhood, came into being in the 1970s as a term coined by the real estate industry. The house was first moved in 1889, by horse-drawn wagons. In 2008, it was moved to its current home in
St. Nicholas Park. For that move, it had to be hydraulically lifted 30 feet in the air in order to clear a tower structure of the church it sat next to. Once again, a great tour. I have only the highest regard for the Park Rangers I’ve dealt with. They’ve all been very knowledgeable and very helpful.
The third walk on my abbreviated Saturday schedule was a bit of a bust. I was at
St. James Church on Madison Avenue at the appointed time, and was joined by a few other walkers. Alas, no tour guide ever arrived—or at least not during the thirty minutes I waited.
Sunday morning’s tour was a little on the strange side. I met the tour guide,
Cynthia Ladopoulos, and her assistant, and then we were met by one more walker. The tour guide wanted to wait a few minutes, in case others showed up a little late, since Sunday morning transit had had some rerouting going on. The second walker seemed antsy to get walking. In fact, due to transit changes, he bailed after only about ten minutes of walking so that he could get to the Bronx for another walk. So I had a private tour of my old stomping grounds in the East 70s. The tour guide was once again very informative about different buildings in the neighborhood, some of which I knew and others I didn’t. Highlights included the Apple store, Madison Avenue Presbyterian Church (I worked there for a while and sang in the professional choir there for a time), the Bohemian National Hall, and the Cherokee Apartments (we even got a tenant to let us into the locked courtyard, where we saw the Guastavino-tiled arches). I then quickly made my way to 53rd Street and Park Avenue for a noon tour. But I got there at about five minutes past noon and didn’t see a soul. Bummer. While trying to salvage my schedule I glanced at my printout and realized that I wasn’t late—I was really early for the 1:00 tour.
This tour was run by two bona fide architects, so architectural features were heavily commented upon. Highlights there included the Seagram’s building, Casa Lever, St. Bartholomew’s Church’s Hildreth Meièr mosaic tiles (I once sang an afternoon of Gilbert & Sullivan music at St. Bart’s as part of a quartet), and Grand Central Terminal, including the upside down olive tree in the food market (I’m not making this up, you know!). Not new to me were the plaques along Library Way, though Architects’ Walk a little to the east was new to me. All of the plaques are the work of artist Gregg LeFevre. I also jotted down another book title to follow up with. I could have rushed to a 3:00 tour, but I was pretty pooped by then, so I went home and got to see the Mets win on TV. Not a bad day.
Here’s what was on my list that I didn’t get to: Harlem Noshwalk, Abraham Lincoln on Broadway, Gay Bars that Are Gone, and Madison Square Park. Maybe they’ll be prime contenders for next May.
ConcertMeister
The first was Saturday morning at 10:30 called Mansions, Money, and Scandal: Gilded Age Splendor on the Upper East Side. The tour guide,
Alan Engler, was superb! He brought wit and humor to the plate, as well as lots of knowledge. I had a noon walk on my schedule, in case I wanted to leave the first tour early. As they say in Hawai’i, “No-a way-a!” In a concentrated area (East 70th Street/Fifth Avenue/East 72nd Street/Madison Avenue, down to East 66th Street), he packed in a ton of very interesting tidbits, even pointing out something that most New Yorkers and tourists alike had not seen in a long time—the sun! I highly recommend this tour. In fact, I did recommend it to other Jane’s Walkers I met on Saturday, since he repeated it on Sunday morning. Interestingly, one of the first stories he recounted was about himself. He’s given this tour before as Gilded Age Splendor on the Upper East Side. He got double the attendees after he added the Mansions, Money, and Scandal part. I even jotted down other buildings to visit and the titles of a couple of books to possibly explore.
Walk number two, at 2:00 in the afternoon, also had a catchy title. Home on the Grange chronicled the history and moving of Alexander Hamilton’s home that he had built in Harlem in 1802. Although there is a Hamilton Heights Historic District, Hamilton always referred to his neighborhood as Harlem. According to the Park Ranger leading the tour, Hamilton Heights, as a neighborhood, came into being in the 1970s as a term coined by the real estate industry. The house was first moved in 1889, by horse-drawn wagons. In 2008, it was moved to its current home in
St. Nicholas Park. For that move, it had to be hydraulically lifted 30 feet in the air in order to clear a tower structure of the church it sat next to. Once again, a great tour. I have only the highest regard for the Park Rangers I’ve dealt with. They’ve all been very knowledgeable and very helpful.
The third walk on my abbreviated Saturday schedule was a bit of a bust. I was at
St. James Church on Madison Avenue at the appointed time, and was joined by a few other walkers. Alas, no tour guide ever arrived—or at least not during the thirty minutes I waited.
Sunday morning’s tour was a little on the strange side. I met the tour guide,
Cynthia Ladopoulos, and her assistant, and then we were met by one more walker. The tour guide wanted to wait a few minutes, in case others showed up a little late, since Sunday morning transit had had some rerouting going on. The second walker seemed antsy to get walking. In fact, due to transit changes, he bailed after only about ten minutes of walking so that he could get to the Bronx for another walk. So I had a private tour of my old stomping grounds in the East 70s. The tour guide was once again very informative about different buildings in the neighborhood, some of which I knew and others I didn’t. Highlights included the Apple store, Madison Avenue Presbyterian Church (I worked there for a while and sang in the professional choir there for a time), the Bohemian National Hall, and the Cherokee Apartments (we even got a tenant to let us into the locked courtyard, where we saw the Guastavino-tiled arches). I then quickly made my way to 53rd Street and Park Avenue for a noon tour. But I got there at about five minutes past noon and didn’t see a soul. Bummer. While trying to salvage my schedule I glanced at my printout and realized that I wasn’t late—I was really early for the 1:00 tour.
This tour was run by two bona fide architects, so architectural features were heavily commented upon. Highlights there included the Seagram’s building, Casa Lever, St. Bartholomew’s Church’s Hildreth Meièr mosaic tiles (I once sang an afternoon of Gilbert & Sullivan music at St. Bart’s as part of a quartet), and Grand Central Terminal, including the upside down olive tree in the food market (I’m not making this up, you know!). Not new to me were the plaques along Library Way, though Architects’ Walk a little to the east was new to me. All of the plaques are the work of artist Gregg LeFevre. I also jotted down another book title to follow up with. I could have rushed to a 3:00 tour, but I was pretty pooped by then, so I went home and got to see the Mets win on TV. Not a bad day.
Here’s what was on my list that I didn’t get to: Harlem Noshwalk, Abraham Lincoln on Broadway, Gay Bars that Are Gone, and Madison Square Park. Maybe they’ll be prime contenders for next May.
ConcertMeister
Monday, May 9, 2016
The Soap Myth (5/2/16)
What is truth? What is memory? What is real?
Those questions go largely unanswered in Jeff Cohen’s The Soap Myth which I saw in a semi-staged reading a week ago. The very talented and excellent cast was Ed Asner, Jayne Atkinson, Donald Corren, Blair Baker, and an uncredited stage manager-cum-cue person.
Staged in commemoration of Holocaust Remembrance Day, this thought-provoking play was really enjoyable and, oddly, sometimes humorous. Bureaucrats, a holocaust survivor, and a magazine writer wrangle about whether or not the Nazis really made soap out of the remains of concentration camp prisoners. Grim stuff.
That said, this was a very touching performance. Some of the actors portrayed more than one character, and did so very well. Mr. Asner was the holocaust survivor who was trying to get information about the soap making added to a Holocaust Museum. The bureaucrats, who had previously included the information, were essentially saying that the hard evidence no longer existed and that history evolves and changes. The magazine writer was pretty much torn both ways and was stuck in the middle, trying to broker a compromise.
I’m not an automatic standing ovation person, but at the end of the performance I was up on my feet with the rest of the audience immediately. I’m very grateful to the Library for the Performing Arts for presenting this and other programming. And it’s always a thrill for me to see a living legend (at least in my mind) perform on stage. The co-producer was the National Jewish Theater Foundation – Holocaust Theater International Initiative. Kudos all the way around!
ConcertMeister
Those questions go largely unanswered in Jeff Cohen’s The Soap Myth which I saw in a semi-staged reading a week ago. The very talented and excellent cast was Ed Asner, Jayne Atkinson, Donald Corren, Blair Baker, and an uncredited stage manager-cum-cue person.
Staged in commemoration of Holocaust Remembrance Day, this thought-provoking play was really enjoyable and, oddly, sometimes humorous. Bureaucrats, a holocaust survivor, and a magazine writer wrangle about whether or not the Nazis really made soap out of the remains of concentration camp prisoners. Grim stuff.
That said, this was a very touching performance. Some of the actors portrayed more than one character, and did so very well. Mr. Asner was the holocaust survivor who was trying to get information about the soap making added to a Holocaust Museum. The bureaucrats, who had previously included the information, were essentially saying that the hard evidence no longer existed and that history evolves and changes. The magazine writer was pretty much torn both ways and was stuck in the middle, trying to broker a compromise.
I’m not an automatic standing ovation person, but at the end of the performance I was up on my feet with the rest of the audience immediately. I’m very grateful to the Library for the Performing Arts for presenting this and other programming. And it’s always a thrill for me to see a living legend (at least in my mind) perform on stage. The co-producer was the National Jewish Theater Foundation – Holocaust Theater International Initiative. Kudos all the way around!
ConcertMeister
Monday, May 2, 2016
April Songbook (4/25/16)
David Reiser
This was the penultimate Songbook for this season. David Reiser’s music (composer and lyricist) has an awful lot of energy. Many of the performers on Monday evening rocked back and forth, stomped their feet, and were very, very energetic. Maybe a bit too much, as it made the lyrics difficult to hear and understand.
Two of the fifteen songs presented were from Any Other Way, two were from Abey Baby, five were from Joni, one was from Dude, and two were from Static Electro. The other three were stand-alone songs.
Hey Rebecca (Any Other Way) had an interesting twist in that it was a duet by the same character at different ages in her life, and they were able to converse with each other. Kacie Sheik and Alison Luff did a good job with just the right amount of country twang.
I Got a Son (Abey Baby) was a cute, very high energy number performed by
Mr. Reiser. (As corrected from the stage, his name is pronounced “Reezer” and not “Riser”—I just thought you should know.)
Different (Joni) was performed by Karen Mason and may have been my favorite of the evening. In it, she’s providing advice to her son about how to provide advice to her granddaughter. Part of the reason I liked it is that it used piano only, instead of the guitars/electric guitars/drums that provided so much energy to the other songs. This one was the most straightforward at getting the message through, and Ms. Mason’s performance also played a very strong part of that. Along the same line, The Way We’ve Always Been (Joni) was a very nice father/daughter duet performed by Laura Dreyfuss and Dana Haynes (who was also the excellent pianist for the entire evening) that had some pleasant harmonies.
A stand-alone song followed. You Are Everything (Mom and Dad’s Song) was an unabashed love fest from Mr. Reiser to his parents, who were in attendance. Bobby Cronin gave a heartfelt performance.
Both songs from Static Electro, a techno musical that was far too techno for my taste, were once again so energetic that the songs themselves got lost, as far as I was concerned. And that pretty much sums up my feeling about most of the evening. Mr. Reiser is talented, but maybe with a little more fine tuning, the message will get across better.
On another note, I was joined for the concert by a friend of mine that I hadn’t seen for a very long time. I’m not sure that I made a Songbook convert out of him, but it was good to see him and then get a bite to eat afterwards. I’ll definitely attend the closing Songbook later this May.
ConcertMeister
This was the penultimate Songbook for this season. David Reiser’s music (composer and lyricist) has an awful lot of energy. Many of the performers on Monday evening rocked back and forth, stomped their feet, and were very, very energetic. Maybe a bit too much, as it made the lyrics difficult to hear and understand.
Two of the fifteen songs presented were from Any Other Way, two were from Abey Baby, five were from Joni, one was from Dude, and two were from Static Electro. The other three were stand-alone songs.
Hey Rebecca (Any Other Way) had an interesting twist in that it was a duet by the same character at different ages in her life, and they were able to converse with each other. Kacie Sheik and Alison Luff did a good job with just the right amount of country twang.
I Got a Son (Abey Baby) was a cute, very high energy number performed by
Mr. Reiser. (As corrected from the stage, his name is pronounced “Reezer” and not “Riser”—I just thought you should know.)
Different (Joni) was performed by Karen Mason and may have been my favorite of the evening. In it, she’s providing advice to her son about how to provide advice to her granddaughter. Part of the reason I liked it is that it used piano only, instead of the guitars/electric guitars/drums that provided so much energy to the other songs. This one was the most straightforward at getting the message through, and Ms. Mason’s performance also played a very strong part of that. Along the same line, The Way We’ve Always Been (Joni) was a very nice father/daughter duet performed by Laura Dreyfuss and Dana Haynes (who was also the excellent pianist for the entire evening) that had some pleasant harmonies.
A stand-alone song followed. You Are Everything (Mom and Dad’s Song) was an unabashed love fest from Mr. Reiser to his parents, who were in attendance. Bobby Cronin gave a heartfelt performance.
Both songs from Static Electro, a techno musical that was far too techno for my taste, were once again so energetic that the songs themselves got lost, as far as I was concerned. And that pretty much sums up my feeling about most of the evening. Mr. Reiser is talented, but maybe with a little more fine tuning, the message will get across better.
On another note, I was joined for the concert by a friend of mine that I hadn’t seen for a very long time. I’m not sure that I made a Songbook convert out of him, but it was good to see him and then get a bite to eat afterwards. I’ll definitely attend the closing Songbook later this May.
ConcertMeister
Friday, April 29, 2016
400! Well, Shakespeare's Death ...
... or birth ... or ... whatever. The Lincoln Center Library for the Performing Arts is celebrating with an exhibition and special programming. Part of the special programming includes the LPA Cinema Series: BBC Shakespeare. I decided to take some 'me' time and attend a couple of comedies.
On Tues., April 5, I saw "As You Like It" from 1963, with a breakout performance (per many critics) by Vanessa Redgrave. She was wonderful, as was the entire production. It was adapted, I believe, for BBC Television broadcast, so it was most likely Shakespeare Lite. (Yes, I have a Complete Shakespeare here in the apartment – no, I have not read it cover to cover and certainly have not memorized it all.) Suffice it to say that this comedy hit many of the high points, in a nicely conceived teleplay.
I skipped "King Lear" with Ian Holm, though now I think I might have enjoyed the experience. Anyway, on April 26, I saw "Taming of the Shrew," part of a Shakespeare Retold series. Starring Shirley Henderson (a feisty, sprightly actress in this role), it was a delightful 2005 comedy. You know what? It's nice to laugh out loud in a movie screening, even if you miss a bit of the dialogue that follows. And here, you could actually hear others laughing—and you had a feeling of community.
Yes, this is the same place I see/hear silent comedies with piano accompaniment. It's nice seeing/hearing talkies, too. I imagine that both the 1963 "As You Like It" and the 2005 "Taming of the Shrew" are available online? streaming? Netflix? public library (gasp!)? I say, take a look if it sounds like they interest you.
And Happy Deathday (yikes!), Will!
On Tues., April 5, I saw "As You Like It" from 1963, with a breakout performance (per many critics) by Vanessa Redgrave. She was wonderful, as was the entire production. It was adapted, I believe, for BBC Television broadcast, so it was most likely Shakespeare Lite. (Yes, I have a Complete Shakespeare here in the apartment – no, I have not read it cover to cover and certainly have not memorized it all.) Suffice it to say that this comedy hit many of the high points, in a nicely conceived teleplay.
I skipped "King Lear" with Ian Holm, though now I think I might have enjoyed the experience. Anyway, on April 26, I saw "Taming of the Shrew," part of a Shakespeare Retold series. Starring Shirley Henderson (a feisty, sprightly actress in this role), it was a delightful 2005 comedy. You know what? It's nice to laugh out loud in a movie screening, even if you miss a bit of the dialogue that follows. And here, you could actually hear others laughing—and you had a feeling of community.
Yes, this is the same place I see/hear silent comedies with piano accompaniment. It's nice seeing/hearing talkies, too. I imagine that both the 1963 "As You Like It" and the 2005 "Taming of the Shrew" are available online? streaming? Netflix? public library (gasp!)? I say, take a look if it sounds like they interest you.
And Happy Deathday (yikes!), Will!
Thursday, April 7, 2016
Highlights from The Magic Flute (4/2/16)
Highlights from The Magic Flute
And other Mozart arias
All right, I sort of broadened my horizons and had an OK time. Opera is not always my favorite, and Mozart is not always my favorite, but the vocalists from the Juilliard School’s Marcus Institute for Vocal Arts did put on a good show.
The afternoon started off with three arias from Le nozze di Figaro. An aria from
Die Entführung aus dem Serail was scratched (the soprano was suffering from a cold, though we didn’t get that information until much later in the concert, a bit of bad form on the library’s management front). Two arias from Don Giovanni followed.
Se vuol ballare, from Figaro, was sung by bass-baritone Cody Quattlebaum, who sang with a good, natural, deep sound. He sang well but his stage comportment was slightly lacking. Amanda Lynn Bottoms, mezzo-soprano, sang Voi che sapete. In introducing her character from the opera, she described a “crazy little teenager.” Some of that came through while, vocally, she seemed to be hiding behind the mask of her sound. I’ve been guilty of that myself in the past; you’re so concerned about producing a good, focused sound that you end up not singing freely. But these are students, and I think that they’ll continue to grow into themselves as performers. Deh vieni non tardar, also from Figaro, was sung by soprano Angela Vallone, who had a better connection with her vocal sound, and had pretty good to very good vocal control.
Deh, vieni alla finestra, from Don Giovanni, was sung by baritone Xiaomeng Zhang who sang nicely but seemed once again to be trying to be an opera singer rather than trying to be a singer. I almost got the feeling that he was auditioning, not performing. Mind you, these are really tiny quibbles—all of the singing was of a really high quality. Rebecca Farley, soprano, sang Batti batti o bel Masetto, also from Don Giovanni. I enjoyed it even though the accompaniment essentially doubling the vocal line was a little disconcerting. Oh, and a phone went off during the aria. Can I get a “sheesh?”
At this point there was a brief interval—not really an intermission, and not really explained to us. What followed were highlights from Die Zauberflöte, with a narration of the plot delivered by Evan Leslie, of the Library for the Performing Arts. And the vocals were also sung against a backdrop of slides depicting costume and stage designs for various productions of Magic Flute, taken from the recently opened exhibit at the Library. The narration went very nicely, with a few bobbles, and the slides were interesting although, for the most part, the large screen they were projected on was mostly blank—slightly odd, in that the slides only took up about one-third of the screen.
Baritone Dimitri Katotakis sang selections from the role of Papageno. The semi-staging and mime were done well, and he sang with a good, natural sound. He was joined by Pamina (Ms. Farley) in a cute duet, Bei Männern, welche Lieben fühlen. It was at this point, where the famous Queen of the Night aria was supposed to be performed, that we finally learned of the reason we hadn’t heard from the soprano who had been scheduled to sing two earlier arias. Ms. Farley then acquitted herself nicely with Ach, ich fühl’s, which was pleasant, though there were a few vocal technical glitches.
Mr. Katotakis then returned with Ein Mädchen oder Weibchen, a sort of male version of a spinning song (miming a music box?) that was more like an art song than an aria. I liked it. Papageno’s suicide aria, Papagena…Papagena, followed, in a nice, straightforward performance. Mr. Katotakis was joined by Ms. Vallone in the duet, Pa-pa-pa, which was enjoyable, and a great way to cap off the end of the afternoon. A shout out is welcome at this time for Valeriya Polunina, who was the able accompanist/collaborator with all of the afternoon’s vocalists.
So, did the afternoon inspire me to rush out and find a performance of the full Zauberflöte? It did not. Nor, for that matter, Figaro or Don Giovanni. But I did enjoy hearing these young singers in a well-thought-out afternoon of arias and duets.
ConcertMeister
And other Mozart arias
All right, I sort of broadened my horizons and had an OK time. Opera is not always my favorite, and Mozart is not always my favorite, but the vocalists from the Juilliard School’s Marcus Institute for Vocal Arts did put on a good show.
The afternoon started off with three arias from Le nozze di Figaro. An aria from
Die Entführung aus dem Serail was scratched (the soprano was suffering from a cold, though we didn’t get that information until much later in the concert, a bit of bad form on the library’s management front). Two arias from Don Giovanni followed.
Se vuol ballare, from Figaro, was sung by bass-baritone Cody Quattlebaum, who sang with a good, natural, deep sound. He sang well but his stage comportment was slightly lacking. Amanda Lynn Bottoms, mezzo-soprano, sang Voi che sapete. In introducing her character from the opera, she described a “crazy little teenager.” Some of that came through while, vocally, she seemed to be hiding behind the mask of her sound. I’ve been guilty of that myself in the past; you’re so concerned about producing a good, focused sound that you end up not singing freely. But these are students, and I think that they’ll continue to grow into themselves as performers. Deh vieni non tardar, also from Figaro, was sung by soprano Angela Vallone, who had a better connection with her vocal sound, and had pretty good to very good vocal control.
Deh, vieni alla finestra, from Don Giovanni, was sung by baritone Xiaomeng Zhang who sang nicely but seemed once again to be trying to be an opera singer rather than trying to be a singer. I almost got the feeling that he was auditioning, not performing. Mind you, these are really tiny quibbles—all of the singing was of a really high quality. Rebecca Farley, soprano, sang Batti batti o bel Masetto, also from Don Giovanni. I enjoyed it even though the accompaniment essentially doubling the vocal line was a little disconcerting. Oh, and a phone went off during the aria. Can I get a “sheesh?”
At this point there was a brief interval—not really an intermission, and not really explained to us. What followed were highlights from Die Zauberflöte, with a narration of the plot delivered by Evan Leslie, of the Library for the Performing Arts. And the vocals were also sung against a backdrop of slides depicting costume and stage designs for various productions of Magic Flute, taken from the recently opened exhibit at the Library. The narration went very nicely, with a few bobbles, and the slides were interesting although, for the most part, the large screen they were projected on was mostly blank—slightly odd, in that the slides only took up about one-third of the screen.
Baritone Dimitri Katotakis sang selections from the role of Papageno. The semi-staging and mime were done well, and he sang with a good, natural sound. He was joined by Pamina (Ms. Farley) in a cute duet, Bei Männern, welche Lieben fühlen. It was at this point, where the famous Queen of the Night aria was supposed to be performed, that we finally learned of the reason we hadn’t heard from the soprano who had been scheduled to sing two earlier arias. Ms. Farley then acquitted herself nicely with Ach, ich fühl’s, which was pleasant, though there were a few vocal technical glitches.
Mr. Katotakis then returned with Ein Mädchen oder Weibchen, a sort of male version of a spinning song (miming a music box?) that was more like an art song than an aria. I liked it. Papageno’s suicide aria, Papagena…Papagena, followed, in a nice, straightforward performance. Mr. Katotakis was joined by Ms. Vallone in the duet, Pa-pa-pa, which was enjoyable, and a great way to cap off the end of the afternoon. A shout out is welcome at this time for Valeriya Polunina, who was the able accompanist/collaborator with all of the afternoon’s vocalists.
So, did the afternoon inspire me to rush out and find a performance of the full Zauberflöte? It did not. Nor, for that matter, Figaro or Don Giovanni. But I did enjoy hearing these young singers in a well-thought-out afternoon of arias and duets.
ConcertMeister
Friday, April 1, 2016
Songbook – March 2016 (3/28/16)
Featuring Lyricist Jill Abramovitz
First off, all of the performers were great: Jill Abramovitz, Joy Son (piano), Arielle Jacobs, Jessica Vosk, F. Michael Haynie, Michael Winther, Barbara Anselmi (piano), Alex Gemignani, Lisa Howard, Kevin Pariseau, Dana Steingold, Kate Wetherhead, Aron Accurso (piano), Mairi Dorman-Phaneuf (cello), and Andrew Potenz (cajon).
As I’ve mentioned in the past, a Songbook that focuses on lyrics is somewhat difficult to comment on—the lyrics sometimes get overshadowed by the music. Here, they were on equal footing for the most part. Ms. Abramovitz’ collaborators included Ms. Son, Brad Alexander, Mr. Accurso, and Ms. Anselmi.
Ms. Abramovitz kicked things off wither own rendition of Happy, a somewhat manic treatment of a wedding called off because the groom-to-be is gay. It was fun, and she gave off a little bit of a Carol Burnett vibe, to me.
Three songs from Bread and Roses followed. Put Me to Work had nice driving rhythms and a good approach to storytelling. Listen Please was powerful, if a bit stereotypical. And Building 646 had similar driving rhythms heard in Put Me to Work. I must say that I am not familiar with the movie Bread and Roses, but these songs seemed interesting.
A stand-alone song, Turning the Corner, was next, that had an inherent
sadness, yet with a nice feeling. Mr. Winther did a great job of getting this brand new song across. Brand new as in only completed on the day of the performance! Ms. Abramovitz scored big with What They Never Tell You from It Shoulda Been You. It must be a thrill to sing your own song from a Broadway show—
especially one that was Tyne Daly’s in the show.
Four songs from The Dogs of Pripyat followed, based on a true story of the lives of dogs surviving the Chernobyl atrocity. Join the Pack was a real treat—I even managed to jot down some lyrics: “Feel the lurking of the wolf within.” I especially liked the madrigal section that then morphed into an up tempo, power ballad feel. An ensemble of five singers provided excellent backup and collaboration with
Mr. Gemignani. The Little Guy had the high energy of yappers, while Almost Autumn featured a beagle, a mutt, and a human, and, after a lovely quiet opening, had interweaving stories and lines that worked really well, creating some beautiful harmonies. I Was Better Off Without You closed out the Dogs set, and was the tale of a cat and a dog on a quest for a catfish. I’m not making this up, you know.
Another stand-alone song, Gene Rosen, was inspired by and written for
Gene Rosen, who was a true hero in the aftermath of the Sandy Hook shootings.
Mr. Winther gave a very moving performance, and it turns out that Mr. Rosen was at the concert. It’s not every day one gets to hear about a true hero in song, while the hero is there in the room. The repeating sentiment throughout the song was “’Cause your heart’s too big for your house.”
Written as a micro-musical, 11:07 was a nifty take on the “dreams really can come true” theme when the guy of a couple, singing with his wife, has his dream come true—to sing a song with Ann Harada, of Avenue Q fame. Ta-dah! Ms. Harada made an appearance, and much humor ensued.
The final song of the evening was Kind of Crazy, and if I got my notes written correctly it will be the final song of the final episode of this season of Submissions Only (which I had to look up online—yeah, I’m that much out of touch). The lyric that stuck with me was, “Your kind of crazy goes just perfectly with mine.” Ms. Vosk did a fine job, and was joined by some of the others from the evening’s performances, truly turning it into a full-blown finale. The variety of Ms. Abramovitz’ lyrics spread out between four different composers made for a compelling evening of new theater (and stand-alone) songs. There are two more Songbooks in this year’s series. I plan on being there!
ConcertMeister
First off, all of the performers were great: Jill Abramovitz, Joy Son (piano), Arielle Jacobs, Jessica Vosk, F. Michael Haynie, Michael Winther, Barbara Anselmi (piano), Alex Gemignani, Lisa Howard, Kevin Pariseau, Dana Steingold, Kate Wetherhead, Aron Accurso (piano), Mairi Dorman-Phaneuf (cello), and Andrew Potenz (cajon).
As I’ve mentioned in the past, a Songbook that focuses on lyrics is somewhat difficult to comment on—the lyrics sometimes get overshadowed by the music. Here, they were on equal footing for the most part. Ms. Abramovitz’ collaborators included Ms. Son, Brad Alexander, Mr. Accurso, and Ms. Anselmi.
Ms. Abramovitz kicked things off wither own rendition of Happy, a somewhat manic treatment of a wedding called off because the groom-to-be is gay. It was fun, and she gave off a little bit of a Carol Burnett vibe, to me.
Three songs from Bread and Roses followed. Put Me to Work had nice driving rhythms and a good approach to storytelling. Listen Please was powerful, if a bit stereotypical. And Building 646 had similar driving rhythms heard in Put Me to Work. I must say that I am not familiar with the movie Bread and Roses, but these songs seemed interesting.
A stand-alone song, Turning the Corner, was next, that had an inherent
sadness, yet with a nice feeling. Mr. Winther did a great job of getting this brand new song across. Brand new as in only completed on the day of the performance! Ms. Abramovitz scored big with What They Never Tell You from It Shoulda Been You. It must be a thrill to sing your own song from a Broadway show—
especially one that was Tyne Daly’s in the show.
Four songs from The Dogs of Pripyat followed, based on a true story of the lives of dogs surviving the Chernobyl atrocity. Join the Pack was a real treat—I even managed to jot down some lyrics: “Feel the lurking of the wolf within.” I especially liked the madrigal section that then morphed into an up tempo, power ballad feel. An ensemble of five singers provided excellent backup and collaboration with
Mr. Gemignani. The Little Guy had the high energy of yappers, while Almost Autumn featured a beagle, a mutt, and a human, and, after a lovely quiet opening, had interweaving stories and lines that worked really well, creating some beautiful harmonies. I Was Better Off Without You closed out the Dogs set, and was the tale of a cat and a dog on a quest for a catfish. I’m not making this up, you know.
Another stand-alone song, Gene Rosen, was inspired by and written for
Gene Rosen, who was a true hero in the aftermath of the Sandy Hook shootings.
Mr. Winther gave a very moving performance, and it turns out that Mr. Rosen was at the concert. It’s not every day one gets to hear about a true hero in song, while the hero is there in the room. The repeating sentiment throughout the song was “’Cause your heart’s too big for your house.”
Written as a micro-musical, 11:07 was a nifty take on the “dreams really can come true” theme when the guy of a couple, singing with his wife, has his dream come true—to sing a song with Ann Harada, of Avenue Q fame. Ta-dah! Ms. Harada made an appearance, and much humor ensued.
The final song of the evening was Kind of Crazy, and if I got my notes written correctly it will be the final song of the final episode of this season of Submissions Only (which I had to look up online—yeah, I’m that much out of touch). The lyric that stuck with me was, “Your kind of crazy goes just perfectly with mine.” Ms. Vosk did a fine job, and was joined by some of the others from the evening’s performances, truly turning it into a full-blown finale. The variety of Ms. Abramovitz’ lyrics spread out between four different composers made for a compelling evening of new theater (and stand-alone) songs. There are two more Songbooks in this year’s series. I plan on being there!
ConcertMeister
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