Ah, a story near and dear to my heart. I love the musical (and have performed in it many times). The silent film (1927) is based on the 1926 play (Maurine Watkins (Maurine Dallas Watkins for the musical)).
Where to begin? The silent film focuses on Roxie Hart (Phyllis Haver) and Billy Flynn (Robert Edeson), but gives a much larger role to Amos Hart (Victor Varconi).
Matron is there, as is an abbreviated Velma Kelly (all based on real people but with different names).
Roxie shoots and kills her lover. Amos stands by her, even offering to take the blame. Billy Flynn gets an acquittal. Roxie is eclipsed by "Two Gun Rosie" (a "Go-to-Hell Kitty" prototype?). But in this version (and the play, too?) Roxie ends up walking down the street, in the rain, seeing her headlines in the papers trampled and washed down the drain. Literally. Amos, who has stood by her throughout the trial, has had enough and throws her out into the street. Not nearly the "ha-cha" of the musical.
It was fascinating to see a property I knew on one level in the guise of its earlier state. I'd love to read the 1926 play. Apparently it was a major breakthrough for George Abbott, as a director. Who knew?
Interestingly, in preview remarks and a few of the post-viewing remarks I heard, Bruce Lawton kept referencing the 2002 film (makes sense, he's a film guy). But that version, even though I know and respect the director, is not my favorite; I vastly prefer the 1975 stage musical. Though, who knows? I might really prefer the 1926 play.
As usual, Ben Model provided a spot-on pianistic soundtrack and Steve Massa's program notes were interesting, as always. Also interesting was the "short." When films were sent to the local distributors, the local censors had thumbs-up/thumbs-down power, and there were snippets of film cut, from place to place. The "short" on the bill was a compilation of those snippets, so you got lots of flappers, some belly dancers, falls that tended to showed too much leg, and lots of stockings being unrolled (shocking, I tell you, shocking!). It was interesting though a little too much same-same. Still, it pointed us at censorship in all of its glories (hah!).
ConcertMeister
Saturday, November 19, 2016
Thursday, November 10, 2016
Juilliard 415 (11/2/16)
Courtesy of WQXR
This is part of a continuing series of highlighting Juilliard students in one-hour concerts at the Jerome L. Greene space. I'm such a fan that I've taken off the last two first Wednesdays of the month (and Dec. 7) to attend. These are free concerts, though an RSVP is required.
OK, I'm not going to copy 'n' paste every description/title/date, etc. I'll just hit the highlights and my reaction to those highlights.
Dario Castello's sonata (Venice, 1629), was a sextet, though I didn't scribble down all of the instruments. Described as a "madrigal without words," the solo violin was joined by a second violin, then the other four players joined in. One of which was a harpsichord. This is important, as harpsichords in the early baroque era were tuned to A 415 (as opposed to the more modern A 440–442), hence the moniker Juilliard 415. (You now have a trivia/Jeopardy answer/question in your back pocket. You're welcome.)
After a regrouping, we heard a piece by Giovanni Legrenzi (Venice, 1673) that was calm and almost somber after an opening of tutti performers (sorry, no printed program).
After another regrouping (I don't think any of the students played in more than one ensemble), we heard Alessandro Stradella's Trio in D minor (violin, cello, harpsichord). This was in a very different style—more disjointed—seemingly more modern/experimental. And here's something to cogitate on. We think of old/baroque/early music as, well, old/baroque/early. But some of it was truly experimental in its day. That said, some people may have been disappointed in it as much as I am disappointed listening to Philip Glass, but I digress. A fugal movement followed, swiftly followed by a dance-like third movement that was almost a sonata in itself.
Fourth on the program was another Castello piece from 1629, with two violins, viola da gamba, dulcian (new to me, I had to do an internet search), and theorbo (not new to me). A theorbo is like a lute on steroids—regular strings (I didn't count how many) and really, really long strings (six, seven feet long?). So you get two instruments in one. The piece started with a kitchen-sink style—everything thrown into the mix. That was followed by a duo (sort of, violins and theorbo) that was quite playful at times. The piece closed out with the full ensemble in a very rich, solid style. Oh, and the dulcian is a precursor to the bassoon.
A Tomaso Albinoni Trio in D minor followed (Venice, 1694) for baroque flute, violin, cello, and theorbo (maybe the same instrument? definitely different player). Here, the theorbo was used more rhythmically, including knocking on the wooden frame for percussion sounds.
The one-hour concert closed out with Antonio Vivaldi's Chamber Concerto in
G minor "La Notte" for baroque flute, bassoon, two violins, string bass and harpsichord. The harpsichord had more of a presence in this work, and there was plenty of layering of strings and other instruments to create forward energy, which one associates with Vivaldi (think Four Seasons). I mentioned to my seat mates that it would have been pretty cool to have all of the players come out for a brief orchestral work, as a grand finale. Alas, that did not happen.
Throughout the afternoon, different students gave us brief introductions to the pieces and all acquitted themselves quite well (with a few microphone malfunctions). All in all, a wonderful one-hour concert with erudite, well seasoned young performers. Thank you WQXR and Juilliard!
This is part of a continuing series of highlighting Juilliard students in one-hour concerts at the Jerome L. Greene space. I'm such a fan that I've taken off the last two first Wednesdays of the month (and Dec. 7) to attend. These are free concerts, though an RSVP is required.
OK, I'm not going to copy 'n' paste every description/title/date, etc. I'll just hit the highlights and my reaction to those highlights.
Dario Castello's sonata (Venice, 1629), was a sextet, though I didn't scribble down all of the instruments. Described as a "madrigal without words," the solo violin was joined by a second violin, then the other four players joined in. One of which was a harpsichord. This is important, as harpsichords in the early baroque era were tuned to A 415 (as opposed to the more modern A 440–442), hence the moniker Juilliard 415. (You now have a trivia/Jeopardy answer/question in your back pocket. You're welcome.)
After a regrouping, we heard a piece by Giovanni Legrenzi (Venice, 1673) that was calm and almost somber after an opening of tutti performers (sorry, no printed program).
After another regrouping (I don't think any of the students played in more than one ensemble), we heard Alessandro Stradella's Trio in D minor (violin, cello, harpsichord). This was in a very different style—more disjointed—seemingly more modern/experimental. And here's something to cogitate on. We think of old/baroque/early music as, well, old/baroque/early. But some of it was truly experimental in its day. That said, some people may have been disappointed in it as much as I am disappointed listening to Philip Glass, but I digress. A fugal movement followed, swiftly followed by a dance-like third movement that was almost a sonata in itself.
Fourth on the program was another Castello piece from 1629, with two violins, viola da gamba, dulcian (new to me, I had to do an internet search), and theorbo (not new to me). A theorbo is like a lute on steroids—regular strings (I didn't count how many) and really, really long strings (six, seven feet long?). So you get two instruments in one. The piece started with a kitchen-sink style—everything thrown into the mix. That was followed by a duo (sort of, violins and theorbo) that was quite playful at times. The piece closed out with the full ensemble in a very rich, solid style. Oh, and the dulcian is a precursor to the bassoon.
A Tomaso Albinoni Trio in D minor followed (Venice, 1694) for baroque flute, violin, cello, and theorbo (maybe the same instrument? definitely different player). Here, the theorbo was used more rhythmically, including knocking on the wooden frame for percussion sounds.
The one-hour concert closed out with Antonio Vivaldi's Chamber Concerto in
G minor "La Notte" for baroque flute, bassoon, two violins, string bass and harpsichord. The harpsichord had more of a presence in this work, and there was plenty of layering of strings and other instruments to create forward energy, which one associates with Vivaldi (think Four Seasons). I mentioned to my seat mates that it would have been pretty cool to have all of the players come out for a brief orchestral work, as a grand finale. Alas, that did not happen.
Throughout the afternoon, different students gave us brief introductions to the pieces and all acquitted themselves quite well (with a few microphone malfunctions). All in all, a wonderful one-hour concert with erudite, well seasoned young performers. Thank you WQXR and Juilliard!
Monday, November 7, 2016
Arts and Artists of Tomorr … ah the heck with it Songbook (10/31/16)
Looked great on paper. Songs from one show, Perfect Picture. Book and Lyrics: Ellen Bluestone Sherman; Music: Gail C. Sherman.
Good cast, including Mark Jacoby (Norman Rockwell), Lillias White (Actor A) [uh-oh!], Angel Desai (Actor B), and Crista Moore (Actor C). Actors A, B, and C [uh-oh!] were called upon to play wives, lovers, bosses, government employees, second wives, etc., which got a bit muddy, though the performances were all very good, in this concert version.
I hesitate to single out performances, but Mr. Jacoby projected just the right qualities of nebbish and newly conceived personality pretty well. Ms. White scored best in the somewhat recurring role of blues-y, jazz-y outside commentator.
The story arc followed Norman Rockwell through the rejection of his Four Freedoms project through to its successful completion. The road traveled didn’t quite do it for me. The sister team of composer/lyricist has a good feel and a good vibe. For me, though, there were too many songs that made me go, “Oh, that sounds like … and that’s like … .” They weren’t bad, for songs that were like other show-biz songs. I could walk you through each one, except for the fact that some of them blended into each other. Were they a medley? A montage? Two, three, or four mini songs that sounded similar?
Apparently Perfect Picture has had a few iterations, and this was one that the writing team chose for a distinct distillation. I’m not quite sure it works in this format, though they may be very happy with it. It wasn’t bad, and the music was interesting (if a little derivative). I wouldn’t mind seeing a fully fleshed out production of the piece—it might make more sense to me then.
That said, the sisters know their craft, and they seem to be really in tune with each other on many levels. I could listen to more of their songs.
ConcertMeister
Good cast, including Mark Jacoby (Norman Rockwell), Lillias White (Actor A) [uh-oh!], Angel Desai (Actor B), and Crista Moore (Actor C). Actors A, B, and C [uh-oh!] were called upon to play wives, lovers, bosses, government employees, second wives, etc., which got a bit muddy, though the performances were all very good, in this concert version.
I hesitate to single out performances, but Mr. Jacoby projected just the right qualities of nebbish and newly conceived personality pretty well. Ms. White scored best in the somewhat recurring role of blues-y, jazz-y outside commentator.
The story arc followed Norman Rockwell through the rejection of his Four Freedoms project through to its successful completion. The road traveled didn’t quite do it for me. The sister team of composer/lyricist has a good feel and a good vibe. For me, though, there were too many songs that made me go, “Oh, that sounds like … and that’s like … .” They weren’t bad, for songs that were like other show-biz songs. I could walk you through each one, except for the fact that some of them blended into each other. Were they a medley? A montage? Two, three, or four mini songs that sounded similar?
Apparently Perfect Picture has had a few iterations, and this was one that the writing team chose for a distinct distillation. I’m not quite sure it works in this format, though they may be very happy with it. It wasn’t bad, and the music was interesting (if a little derivative). I wouldn’t mind seeing a fully fleshed out production of the piece—it might make more sense to me then.
That said, the sisters know their craft, and they seem to be really in tune with each other on many levels. I could listen to more of their songs.
ConcertMeister
Thursday, November 3, 2016
Two Minis (10/24/16, 10/29/16)
Lyrics by Lee – A Celebration of Broadway Lyricist Lee Adams/
The Emily Dickinson Suite–A Chamber Recital in Words and Music
Cabaret artists Steve Ross and Maximilian St. James presented a wonderful evening of the lyrics of Lee Adams. The good news is that lyrics are a great thing to be celebrated. The bad news is that their presentation is linked to composers and performers. The composer for all was Charles Strouse, who made a (late) appearance. The performers were a mixed bag. Lyrics from:
A Broadway Musical (1978)
Applause (1970)
Bye, Bye Birdie (1963)
All American (1962)
I and Albert (1972)
It’s a Bird … It’s a Plane … It’s Superman (1966)
Golden Boy (1964)
Marty (2002; unproduced on Broadway)
Interspersed with musical numbers, there were readings from tribute letters, from (big breath) Chita Rivera, Anita Gillette, Tony Bennett, Hal Prince, Sheldon Harnick, Donald Pippin, and Charles Strouse (who later spoke, in person).
The music (and hence lyrics) was mostly great. I enjoyed hearing cabaret artists like Marilyn Sokol and Penny Fuller, and Mr. Ross was the consummate accompanist/partner. Len Cariou was effective, if not in fine voice. I’m sad to report that Carleton Carpenter did a disservice to “Kids” from Bye, Bye Birdie. Maybe it’s a built-in problem? I did a production with a well-known comedic actor as Mr. McAfee, and he had problems, too.
Still, the lyrics (and music) shone. After Mr. Strouse spoke, he was goaded into sitting at the keyboard and playing the theme to All in the Family—“Gee, our old LaSalle ran great!” Those were the days. Most of the kids in the audience were clueless.
Emily Dickinson was a different kettle of fish. This is at least the second Lincoln Center Library for the Performing Arts tribute to Miss Dickinson that I’ve seen.
The performers included Alison Looman, actress; Elmira Darvarova, violin; Mélanie Genin, harp; John Sorensen, director (for Emily Dickinson: Portrait of a Poet; Robert Herridge, script; Tom Scott, music); Ms. Darvarova, violin; Na Sun, violin; Ronald Carbone, viola; Samuel Magill, cello (for Three Pieces After Emily Dickinson; Mary Howe); Nicole Brancato (piano); Sarah Dutcher (piano); Jai Jeffries (piano) (for What of That; George Boziwick); and Katharine Whyte (soprano) with Matthew Odell (piano) (for 12 Poems of Emily Dickinson; Aaron Copland).
Well, lots of stuff happening, so I’ll just hit the highlights. The violin/harp interludes between the spoken words in the first piece were my favorite parts. They ranged from introductory interludes to dance-like, mournful, slightly modern (surreal and short), again dance-like, music-box theme, dramatic and fuller, slightly subdued, to slightly dark yet with a touch of hope. They were interspersed with introductions (by the director) and snippets of poetry by the actress. Relatively effective, but as I said, the music spoke more to me than the texts.
What of That was … just bizarre. Set for piano, six hands (I’ve never seen that before), the pianists also intoned the poem (sometimes unintelligibly) as they were playing the piece. Per the composer’s introduction, the three players represented Doubt, Certainty, and Belief. It didn’t ring true to me. And the bang-bang-bang rhythm signifying What. Of. That. was overkill.
Copland’s 12-song cycle was nicely performed. Ms. Whyte’s English diction was a big plus, and she handled Copland’s sometimes awkward vocal writing as best she could. It was interesting to hear a bit of redux from the poetry that was used in Portrait of a Poet, at the beginning of the afternoon. Definitely a learning experience. There’s a lot of stuff out there, folks.
ConcertMeister
The Emily Dickinson Suite–A Chamber Recital in Words and Music
Cabaret artists Steve Ross and Maximilian St. James presented a wonderful evening of the lyrics of Lee Adams. The good news is that lyrics are a great thing to be celebrated. The bad news is that their presentation is linked to composers and performers. The composer for all was Charles Strouse, who made a (late) appearance. The performers were a mixed bag. Lyrics from:
A Broadway Musical (1978)
Applause (1970)
Bye, Bye Birdie (1963)
All American (1962)
I and Albert (1972)
It’s a Bird … It’s a Plane … It’s Superman (1966)
Golden Boy (1964)
Marty (2002; unproduced on Broadway)
Interspersed with musical numbers, there were readings from tribute letters, from (big breath) Chita Rivera, Anita Gillette, Tony Bennett, Hal Prince, Sheldon Harnick, Donald Pippin, and Charles Strouse (who later spoke, in person).
The music (and hence lyrics) was mostly great. I enjoyed hearing cabaret artists like Marilyn Sokol and Penny Fuller, and Mr. Ross was the consummate accompanist/partner. Len Cariou was effective, if not in fine voice. I’m sad to report that Carleton Carpenter did a disservice to “Kids” from Bye, Bye Birdie. Maybe it’s a built-in problem? I did a production with a well-known comedic actor as Mr. McAfee, and he had problems, too.
Still, the lyrics (and music) shone. After Mr. Strouse spoke, he was goaded into sitting at the keyboard and playing the theme to All in the Family—“Gee, our old LaSalle ran great!” Those were the days. Most of the kids in the audience were clueless.
Emily Dickinson was a different kettle of fish. This is at least the second Lincoln Center Library for the Performing Arts tribute to Miss Dickinson that I’ve seen.
The performers included Alison Looman, actress; Elmira Darvarova, violin; Mélanie Genin, harp; John Sorensen, director (for Emily Dickinson: Portrait of a Poet; Robert Herridge, script; Tom Scott, music); Ms. Darvarova, violin; Na Sun, violin; Ronald Carbone, viola; Samuel Magill, cello (for Three Pieces After Emily Dickinson; Mary Howe); Nicole Brancato (piano); Sarah Dutcher (piano); Jai Jeffries (piano) (for What of That; George Boziwick); and Katharine Whyte (soprano) with Matthew Odell (piano) (for 12 Poems of Emily Dickinson; Aaron Copland).
Well, lots of stuff happening, so I’ll just hit the highlights. The violin/harp interludes between the spoken words in the first piece were my favorite parts. They ranged from introductory interludes to dance-like, mournful, slightly modern (surreal and short), again dance-like, music-box theme, dramatic and fuller, slightly subdued, to slightly dark yet with a touch of hope. They were interspersed with introductions (by the director) and snippets of poetry by the actress. Relatively effective, but as I said, the music spoke more to me than the texts.
What of That was … just bizarre. Set for piano, six hands (I’ve never seen that before), the pianists also intoned the poem (sometimes unintelligibly) as they were playing the piece. Per the composer’s introduction, the three players represented Doubt, Certainty, and Belief. It didn’t ring true to me. And the bang-bang-bang rhythm signifying What. Of. That. was overkill.
Copland’s 12-song cycle was nicely performed. Ms. Whyte’s English diction was a big plus, and she handled Copland’s sometimes awkward vocal writing as best she could. It was interesting to hear a bit of redux from the poetry that was used in Portrait of a Poet, at the beginning of the afternoon. Definitely a learning experience. There’s a lot of stuff out there, folks.
ConcertMeister
Thursday, October 27, 2016
Open House New York (10/15–16/16)
Okay, posting from the website (not my fave). Any bizarre things, I have very little control over.
Open House New York is, ostensibly, an architectural extravaganza. In reality, for me, it's a really cool way to see things I'd never otherwise get a chance to see in NYC.
As usual, I set an over-achievable agenda for myself. But here’s what I did accomplish.
Saturday, 10am – Brooklyn Academy of Music (1908 construction). A wonderful tour with a very knowledgeable guide. It was a little heavy on the ‘new music’ aspect of the resurgence of the hall, but it covered the basics as well as the more modern aspects. A+ in my book.
After a mad dash to the B38 bus (said dash shared with a couple from San Francisco who come back to NYC every year for OHNY!), we made our way to the Kings County Brewers Collective (381 Troutman Street, Bushwick, Brooklyn – highly recommended). The brewery is visible from the Tap Room. The Tap Room is visible from the street. They have $2.00, 5 oz. tasting glasses available. They have 12 brews available. Hello! They’ve only been in existence for three months. Go there, my NYC peeps.
But I digress. Also on Troutman Street (225) was a design firm which used its own building as an advertising work space. They converted a slim building into a showcase work space cum duplex living space cum apartment building cum green roof— quite a feat. The floors were generic poured concrete (not my favorite, though the designers said they really didn’t mind the cracks). The wood accents were really cool. They bought (cheaply) planks from the Coney Island boardwalk. They shaved off the wear and tear, then split the boards, and then oiled the Brazilian hardwood. Absolutely gorgeous. A little overdone but very effective.
Lift/Next Level was a bit of a bust—sensory deprivation pods making a comeback from the ’70s and ’80s. Not for me. I then went to the Black Lady Theater on Nostrand Avenue, which is being renovated and had some very interesting murals on display. Still, the very loud reggae music was so off-putting that I quickly left.
Sunday at noon found me in the Bronx, at CUNY Bronx Community College. Originally part of NYU, it transformed to BCC. However, one of the crown jewels of the campus—the Gould Library—dates from the early 1900s and is a stunning example of a Stanford White building. I believe that the campus was overwhelmed with the amount of visitors they received, and I’m certainly glad I got there early. The Gould Library tour was stunning. While I did not visit it this time around, I will go back to see the Hall of Fame of Great Americans (check times and availability, but it’s always free).
My next stop on the campus was a set of Marcel Breuer buildings, including (I kid you not!) Meister Hall, Begrisch Hall, and Polowyczk Hall. Very modern, very brash. The docent was extremely knowledgeable and extremely approachable. I followed this with a tour of the new library, built as part of a refurbishment of the quad on campus. It fits in perfectly.
I then went all the way back to Flatbush Avenue to see the newly renovated Kings Theatre—one of the huge movie palaces of the late 1920s. This $95 million restoration was phenomenal. In the lobby is the restored original theater organ console (alas, the pipework and organ itself are lost forever).
A year ago, I volunteered for OHNY, and it was a less-than-enjoyable experience. After seeing and chatting with this year’s volunteers, I may reconsider for October 2017.
Open House New York is, ostensibly, an architectural extravaganza. In reality, for me, it's a really cool way to see things I'd never otherwise get a chance to see in NYC.
As usual, I set an over-achievable agenda for myself. But here’s what I did accomplish.
Saturday, 10am – Brooklyn Academy of Music (1908 construction). A wonderful tour with a very knowledgeable guide. It was a little heavy on the ‘new music’ aspect of the resurgence of the hall, but it covered the basics as well as the more modern aspects. A+ in my book.
After a mad dash to the B38 bus (said dash shared with a couple from San Francisco who come back to NYC every year for OHNY!), we made our way to the Kings County Brewers Collective (381 Troutman Street, Bushwick, Brooklyn – highly recommended). The brewery is visible from the Tap Room. The Tap Room is visible from the street. They have $2.00, 5 oz. tasting glasses available. They have 12 brews available. Hello! They’ve only been in existence for three months. Go there, my NYC peeps.
But I digress. Also on Troutman Street (225) was a design firm which used its own building as an advertising work space. They converted a slim building into a showcase work space cum duplex living space cum apartment building cum green roof— quite a feat. The floors were generic poured concrete (not my favorite, though the designers said they really didn’t mind the cracks). The wood accents were really cool. They bought (cheaply) planks from the Coney Island boardwalk. They shaved off the wear and tear, then split the boards, and then oiled the Brazilian hardwood. Absolutely gorgeous. A little overdone but very effective.
Lift/Next Level was a bit of a bust—sensory deprivation pods making a comeback from the ’70s and ’80s. Not for me. I then went to the Black Lady Theater on Nostrand Avenue, which is being renovated and had some very interesting murals on display. Still, the very loud reggae music was so off-putting that I quickly left.
Sunday at noon found me in the Bronx, at CUNY Bronx Community College. Originally part of NYU, it transformed to BCC. However, one of the crown jewels of the campus—the Gould Library—dates from the early 1900s and is a stunning example of a Stanford White building. I believe that the campus was overwhelmed with the amount of visitors they received, and I’m certainly glad I got there early. The Gould Library tour was stunning. While I did not visit it this time around, I will go back to see the Hall of Fame of Great Americans (check times and availability, but it’s always free).
My next stop on the campus was a set of Marcel Breuer buildings, including (I kid you not!) Meister Hall, Begrisch Hall, and Polowyczk Hall. Very modern, very brash. The docent was extremely knowledgeable and extremely approachable. I followed this with a tour of the new library, built as part of a refurbishment of the quad on campus. It fits in perfectly.
I then went all the way back to Flatbush Avenue to see the newly renovated Kings Theatre—one of the huge movie palaces of the late 1920s. This $95 million restoration was phenomenal. In the lobby is the restored original theater organ console (alas, the pipework and organ itself are lost forever).
A year ago, I volunteered for OHNY, and it was a less-than-enjoyable experience. After seeing and chatting with this year’s volunteers, I may reconsider for October 2017.
Saturday, October 15, 2016
Another Openin' (10/8/16)
My first concert of the season of the Carnegie Neighborhood Concerts (all five boroughs, some tailored to all age groups). Saturday found me at a vocal recital by Ryan Thorn, baritone, assisted by Andrew Sun, piano. I'll start out by saying that these two were collaborators, in the truest sense of the word, throughout the recital.
Selections from Gedichte von Eduard Mörike – Auf einer Wanderung, In der Frühe, Abschied – Hugo Wolf (1860–1903)
The Dream, Op. 8, No. 5; She is as lovely as midday, Op. 14, No. 9; I was with Her [their capitalization, not mine], Op. 14, No. 4 – Sergei Rachmaninoff
(1873–1943)
Lieder eines fahrended Gesellen [German's capitalization, not mine!] – Wenn mein Schatz Hochzeit macht; Ging heut' morgens über Feld; Ich hab' ein glühend Messer; Die zwei blauen Augen [at last! one I can decipher] – Gustav Mahler (1860–1911)
Songs of Travel – Ralph Vaughan Williams – (1872–1958)
The first piece (Wolf) was an up tempo, bright song, with a contrasting second verse. The second was darker in tone. The third was pretty much a dramatic patter song that seemed to remind me of the darkness of Kurt Weill. Not a bad way to start a recital.
After a pause, the first Rachmaninoff song was very poignant. The second was calm, with a feeling of yearning, while the third, with a faster tempo, was a hymn to love. I'm not sure whether the four Mahler songs were were from the same work, performed in order, but thy certainly worked well together. The first projected a real feeling of loss. His love is lost – to another. The second was bright and patter-like, as in, all's right with the world. Until it's not. The third was dramatic and dark, even with the rushing tempo. The second verse was calmer, but just as dark; coming to terms with grief. The fourth projected, to me, that life is sometimes sad and unfair. It was straightforward though not maudlin. My take was that it was learning to come to terms with unhappiness.
These vocal recitals are a part of the Marilyn Horne legacy at Carnegie Hall, and in fact, Ms. Horne was there and briefly spoke after the intermission. It was sometimes hard to hear her, but you do not (as one woman behind me did), call out, "Louder!" to a well-established diva. Bad. Form. Anyhoo, the gist of
Ms. Horne's remarks were that recitals, as such, are falling out of favor. And that they should fall more in favor. I agree 100%.
The second half of the program was given over the Vaughan Williams' ten song cycle, and Mr. Thorn and Mr. Sun acquitted themselves quite well, as they had all afternoon/evening (5:00pm on a Saturday is an odd time for a concert/recital to my thinking).
I'm not sure I got a feel for the overarching tone of the song cycle (both performers are young, and will probably grow into various interpretations through the years), but the individual songs came off quite well. From the martial (but not quite military) opening to songs with harp-like accompaniment, from strophic with perpetual motion feelings to calmer, from splashy to then settling down, this was a nice rendition of a song cycle—and cycles aren't heard in their entirety very often (see Ms. Horne and recitals, above).
Both performers received very warm applause and some standing from the audience. In a first for me, the collaborators shook hands and then did a man-bro hug. Not a problem for me; I'd just never seen it before.
Carnegie Hall Neighborhood Concerts. Check them out, my NYC peeps.
ConcertMeister
Selections from Gedichte von Eduard Mörike – Auf einer Wanderung, In der Frühe, Abschied – Hugo Wolf (1860–1903)
The Dream, Op. 8, No. 5; She is as lovely as midday, Op. 14, No. 9; I was with Her [their capitalization, not mine], Op. 14, No. 4 – Sergei Rachmaninoff
(1873–1943)
Lieder eines fahrended Gesellen [German's capitalization, not mine!] – Wenn mein Schatz Hochzeit macht; Ging heut' morgens über Feld; Ich hab' ein glühend Messer; Die zwei blauen Augen [at last! one I can decipher] – Gustav Mahler (1860–1911)
Songs of Travel – Ralph Vaughan Williams – (1872–1958)
The first piece (Wolf) was an up tempo, bright song, with a contrasting second verse. The second was darker in tone. The third was pretty much a dramatic patter song that seemed to remind me of the darkness of Kurt Weill. Not a bad way to start a recital.
After a pause, the first Rachmaninoff song was very poignant. The second was calm, with a feeling of yearning, while the third, with a faster tempo, was a hymn to love. I'm not sure whether the four Mahler songs were were from the same work, performed in order, but thy certainly worked well together. The first projected a real feeling of loss. His love is lost – to another. The second was bright and patter-like, as in, all's right with the world. Until it's not. The third was dramatic and dark, even with the rushing tempo. The second verse was calmer, but just as dark; coming to terms with grief. The fourth projected, to me, that life is sometimes sad and unfair. It was straightforward though not maudlin. My take was that it was learning to come to terms with unhappiness.
These vocal recitals are a part of the Marilyn Horne legacy at Carnegie Hall, and in fact, Ms. Horne was there and briefly spoke after the intermission. It was sometimes hard to hear her, but you do not (as one woman behind me did), call out, "Louder!" to a well-established diva. Bad. Form. Anyhoo, the gist of
Ms. Horne's remarks were that recitals, as such, are falling out of favor. And that they should fall more in favor. I agree 100%.
The second half of the program was given over the Vaughan Williams' ten song cycle, and Mr. Thorn and Mr. Sun acquitted themselves quite well, as they had all afternoon/evening (5:00pm on a Saturday is an odd time for a concert/recital to my thinking).
I'm not sure I got a feel for the overarching tone of the song cycle (both performers are young, and will probably grow into various interpretations through the years), but the individual songs came off quite well. From the martial (but not quite military) opening to songs with harp-like accompaniment, from strophic with perpetual motion feelings to calmer, from splashy to then settling down, this was a nice rendition of a song cycle—and cycles aren't heard in their entirety very often (see Ms. Horne and recitals, above).
Both performers received very warm applause and some standing from the audience. In a first for me, the collaborators shook hands and then did a man-bro hug. Not a problem for me; I'd just never seen it before.
Carnegie Hall Neighborhood Concerts. Check them out, my NYC peeps.
ConcertMeister
Sunday, October 9, 2016
Fall for Dance (9/29/16 & 10/6/16)
First off, not a freebie, but quite the bargain. Fall for Dance presents mixed bill performances at City Center (gorgeous theater with nice leg room in the mezzanine and balcony) with all seats priced at $15.00. You can buy tix in person at the box office or on line. As it turns out, tix went on sale at 11:00am on Sat., 9/10, and I was volunteering in Central Park on Sat., 9/10 from 6:00am(!) to 9:00am, so I decided to take a bus down Fifth Avenue and scope out the in-person situation. Well! When I got there at approximately 9:30am there was already a line. I figured that I was already there, so what they hey!
Unfortunately, it was a very hot morning. Fortunately, I had nice line mates who let me leave the line periodically to go across 55th Street to get out of the sun. One gal was there with her hubby (from South Africa) and one gal was a former dancer who lives in Manhattan with her Chinese husband. We talked food; we talked tourism; we talked (hello! we were there for more than two hours).
Anyhoo, I saw four dance troupes on the Sept. 29 bill (Richard Alston Dance Company, Aszure Barton & Artists, Wendy Whelan and Edward Watson, and Grupo Corpo). I enjoyed them all, but especially the Alston Company, as they danced Rejoice in the Lamb, performed to live accompaniment by Montclair State Vocal Accord, with Vincent Carr, organist. Rejoice in the Lamb, a setting of poetry by Christopher Smart, a mystical and most likely slightly crazy poet, was set to music by Benjamin Britten. But I really liked all four groups, and seeing powerhouses Wendy Whelan and Edward Watson was also pretty cool.
On Oct. 6, I saw four different troupes (Jessica Lang Dance, Royal Ballet Flanders, Alvin Ailey American Dance Theater, and The Sarasota Ballet). It's hard to pick a favorite, but I think the nod goes to Royal Ballet, whose settings and scenery were the most interesting of the evening. The Ailey, Cry, a re-creation of a ballet from 1971, was certainly interesting, but to me more as a historic rendition. And the Sarasota's Marguerite and Armand was yet another retelling of Dumas' La Dame aux camélias, with the grand ballet tradition of having to suspend disbelief just a bit too much. The score, however, Franz Lizst's Piano Sonata in B Minor, played here by Matei Varga, was a big plus.
OK, I probably saved a few bucks by buying in person, and I was already out and about early that Saturday morning of Sept. 10. That said, if I go for Fall for Dance in the future, I just might bite the bullet and fight with online ordering. And pay more for the same cheap seats.
ConcertMeister
Unfortunately, it was a very hot morning. Fortunately, I had nice line mates who let me leave the line periodically to go across 55th Street to get out of the sun. One gal was there with her hubby (from South Africa) and one gal was a former dancer who lives in Manhattan with her Chinese husband. We talked food; we talked tourism; we talked (hello! we were there for more than two hours).
Anyhoo, I saw four dance troupes on the Sept. 29 bill (Richard Alston Dance Company, Aszure Barton & Artists, Wendy Whelan and Edward Watson, and Grupo Corpo). I enjoyed them all, but especially the Alston Company, as they danced Rejoice in the Lamb, performed to live accompaniment by Montclair State Vocal Accord, with Vincent Carr, organist. Rejoice in the Lamb, a setting of poetry by Christopher Smart, a mystical and most likely slightly crazy poet, was set to music by Benjamin Britten. But I really liked all four groups, and seeing powerhouses Wendy Whelan and Edward Watson was also pretty cool.
On Oct. 6, I saw four different troupes (Jessica Lang Dance, Royal Ballet Flanders, Alvin Ailey American Dance Theater, and The Sarasota Ballet). It's hard to pick a favorite, but I think the nod goes to Royal Ballet, whose settings and scenery were the most interesting of the evening. The Ailey, Cry, a re-creation of a ballet from 1971, was certainly interesting, but to me more as a historic rendition. And the Sarasota's Marguerite and Armand was yet another retelling of Dumas' La Dame aux camélias, with the grand ballet tradition of having to suspend disbelief just a bit too much. The score, however, Franz Lizst's Piano Sonata in B Minor, played here by Matei Varga, was a big plus.
OK, I probably saved a few bucks by buying in person, and I was already out and about early that Saturday morning of Sept. 10. That said, if I go for Fall for Dance in the future, I just might bite the bullet and fight with online ordering. And pay more for the same cheap seats.
ConcertMeister
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