Elizabeth de Trejo, soprano; Jennifer Gliere, mezzo; Joan Peitscher, mezzo; David Robinson, baritone; Israel Lozano, tenor; Pablo Zinger, piano; Tarumi Violinists
This was one of those feel-good events that looked really great on paper. An outdoor concert sponsored by the New York Financial District Lions Club, with the Statue of Liberty as the backdrop, and a very nicely printed program that listed Welcome Remarks, Interfaith Invocation, God Bless America, Introduction of VIP, Tarumi Violinists, Musical Program, Intermission, etc. What we got was a late start, microphone problems, the violinists as the first entertainment segment, and then opera arias and duets. After the third or fourth operatic performance, the VIP made a few announcements, the assembled musicians got around to God Bless America (it did say tutti, so a few of us joined in halfheartedly), and then more opera selections followed.
The violinists were a student group with ages ranging from nine or ten to nineteen. No attempt was made to let us know what they were playing. The playing was good, and it’s always nice to see arts education in effect.
Opera outdoors with no type of a sound shell is not easy to pull off. And this was no exception. For the most part, the women fared better than the men. It was a little hard to follow, since the ten selections of Musical Program (Part I) were not sung in order. In fact, four pieces from Musical Program (Part II) were interspersed with the Part I selections. And for good measure, one of the four from the Finale was also included in Part I.
Selections included Habanera (Carmen), Una voce poco fa (Il barbiere di Siviglia), an aria and a duet from La bohème, O mio babbino caro (Gianni Schicchi) and, from the non-operatic world, Memory (Cats), and Granada.
When they announced that they would take a short break to give the pianist and vocalists a little breather, I took a longer break. As in, I left. Getting back to that printed program, there were rather lengthy bios for the vocalists. But only for two of them. Good intention, bad execution all the way around.
ConcertMeister
Sunday, September 24, 2017
Thursday, September 21, 2017
Washington Heights Chamber Orchestra (9/16/17)
Ilana Davidson, Soprano
Chris Whittaker, Music Director
Le Tombeau de Couperin – Maurice Ravel (1875–1937)
Knoxville: Summer of 1915 – Samuel Barber (1910–1981)
Symphony No. 38 in D Major, K. 504, “Prague” – I. Adagio-Allegro;
II. Andante; III. Finale (Presto) – W. A. Mozart (1756–1791)
This was a new venue for me and a first hearing of this group—somewhat appropriate, since it’s only their second season. Oddly, the program was titled “Mozart, Barber & Ravel” probably because Mozart insisted on top billing. I’m kidding. The pieces were performed in the order listed above.
The program notes (that reinforced what I thought I remembered about the work) stated that the piece began as an homage to Couperin but morphed into a set of dances with each movement dedicated to individual friends of Ravel’s who died in World War I. The first movement began in a rippling French manner and had nice sweeping lines and tunes. It was gentle, pleasant, and somewhat wistful, with a nice build and return of dynamics. The second had a dance feel with brief motifs shared back and forth between sections of the orchestra. Full of charm, it was fun to listen to. The third movement’s gentler rhythms and tunes had a touch of a haunting quality, even in the bolder passages. The final movement started with bang up sound right from the start, solid and, once again, lots of fun. A more reflective section followed before closing out with an upbeat feel.
The Barber, for voice and orchestra, was a sort of through composed setting of poetry by James Agee. There was a very spare opening followed by free-form, stream of consciousness vocal writing. The setting was modern yet easy enough to listen to, and Ms. Davidson’s projection of the text was clear. A brisker, perky section followed that, due to increased volume, made the text a little more difficult to understand. When the writing returned to a more subdued style, the remainder of the score was easier to understand, with a more straightforward and logical marriage of music and text. It’s essentially a memory piece of a young man reflecting on the feelings of that certain summer. Commissioned by a soprano, it’s most often sung by a soprano, though it can also be sung by a tenor. Ms. Davidson did a fine job, as did the orchestra.
Mozart’s symphony had a brief, rather forceful opening before turning softer, if not necessarily sweeter. The scoring seemed very solid to me, with hints of drama. The allegro section that followed was also rather solid—the perking right along section had a certain depth to it, though it tended to go on a bit too long. The second movement was slower and sweeter but still had touches of drama and bite as well. It was pleasant enough, though just barely. The finale was brisk yet slightly restrained, with those touches of drama again, a couple of false endings, and then the real one. I enjoyed this symphony more than I thought I was going to.
The orchestra played very well all afternoon. This is a group and venue that I’ll probably be returning to. Their season will include solo recitals, chamber music, and orchestra concerts. What’s not to like?
ConcertMeister
Chris Whittaker, Music Director
Le Tombeau de Couperin – Maurice Ravel (1875–1937)
Knoxville: Summer of 1915 – Samuel Barber (1910–1981)
Symphony No. 38 in D Major, K. 504, “Prague” – I. Adagio-Allegro;
II. Andante; III. Finale (Presto) – W. A. Mozart (1756–1791)
This was a new venue for me and a first hearing of this group—somewhat appropriate, since it’s only their second season. Oddly, the program was titled “Mozart, Barber & Ravel” probably because Mozart insisted on top billing. I’m kidding. The pieces were performed in the order listed above.
The program notes (that reinforced what I thought I remembered about the work) stated that the piece began as an homage to Couperin but morphed into a set of dances with each movement dedicated to individual friends of Ravel’s who died in World War I. The first movement began in a rippling French manner and had nice sweeping lines and tunes. It was gentle, pleasant, and somewhat wistful, with a nice build and return of dynamics. The second had a dance feel with brief motifs shared back and forth between sections of the orchestra. Full of charm, it was fun to listen to. The third movement’s gentler rhythms and tunes had a touch of a haunting quality, even in the bolder passages. The final movement started with bang up sound right from the start, solid and, once again, lots of fun. A more reflective section followed before closing out with an upbeat feel.
The Barber, for voice and orchestra, was a sort of through composed setting of poetry by James Agee. There was a very spare opening followed by free-form, stream of consciousness vocal writing. The setting was modern yet easy enough to listen to, and Ms. Davidson’s projection of the text was clear. A brisker, perky section followed that, due to increased volume, made the text a little more difficult to understand. When the writing returned to a more subdued style, the remainder of the score was easier to understand, with a more straightforward and logical marriage of music and text. It’s essentially a memory piece of a young man reflecting on the feelings of that certain summer. Commissioned by a soprano, it’s most often sung by a soprano, though it can also be sung by a tenor. Ms. Davidson did a fine job, as did the orchestra.
Mozart’s symphony had a brief, rather forceful opening before turning softer, if not necessarily sweeter. The scoring seemed very solid to me, with hints of drama. The allegro section that followed was also rather solid—the perking right along section had a certain depth to it, though it tended to go on a bit too long. The second movement was slower and sweeter but still had touches of drama and bite as well. It was pleasant enough, though just barely. The finale was brisk yet slightly restrained, with those touches of drama again, a couple of false endings, and then the real one. I enjoyed this symphony more than I thought I was going to.
The orchestra played very well all afternoon. This is a group and venue that I’ll probably be returning to. Their season will include solo recitals, chamber music, and orchestra concerts. What’s not to like?
ConcertMeister
Thursday, September 7, 2017
Midday Masterpieces (9/6/17)
The Argus Quartet – Clara Kim, violin; Jason Issokson, violin;
Dana Kelley, viola; Joann Whang, cello
String Quartet in C Major, Opus 74, No. 1 – Franz Joseph Haydn
This Is My Scary Robot Voice – Kerrith Livengood
Satellites – Garth Knox
This was the first concert of Midday Masterpieces’ new season, and quite enjoyable it was. These are free, hour-long concerts sponsored by WQXR, featuring students from The Juilliard School. Without a printed program, I don’t have movement names or composition dates, so my notes are a bit more scattered than usual. The first movement of the Haydn had a brief intro followed by a fun, moderately busy movement with a nice mix of different tempos. The second was slower to begin with but still full of energy. The third was dance-like (minuet?), and also fun, with more of that characteristic energy of the work plus a few touches of drama along the way. The fourth movement continued the energy, this time with fancy finger work thrown in for good measure. I’m not big on the theory of different moods associated with different keys, but the C Major here, along with the energy throughout, made this work seem cheerful and bright. And it was played very well.
Both Scary Robot and Satellites are by living composers, and in brief remarks from the stage, Ms. Kim described a bit of Scary Robot and what the composer was trying to achieve. The piece was very modern, pitting the composer’s normal voice (sort of shy and retiring) with her scary robot voice (more forceful and in your face). A slightly surreal opening had unison string pitches that then went to different players veering away from that unison, sometimes with dissonant notes and sometimes with just microtones creating the dissonances. A louder section reminded me of the adult voices in a Peanuts cartoon special. There was alternation between the two different voices, with slight variations from time to time. Interesting techniques were on display, but musically, it didn’t quite work for me.
Even though Satellites had three movements, the second and third seemed to blend together.
[Okay, I went scurrying to my good friend, the internet. This, from performance notes that I found: “Although Satellites was conceived as an organic whole, the three movements can also be performed separately, or in twos … When all three are performed, it is suggested to link the movements together, by ... holding the last note of the second movement on first violin until the viola enters to begin the last movement.”]
The first movement started out with lots and lots of pizzicato (plucked strings) that then had bowed strings from the violins, as well. The mix of techniques was nice, with the ever-present pizzicato as the glue holding it together. The second movement, Spectral Sunrise, had dramatic, sweeping sounds—a real feeling of something arising out of nothingness. The individual sunrises were pretty easy to detect. The piece then continued with yet again more mixing of techniques that somehow made the piece feel like Gustav Holst’s Planets gone goony. At one point, the players’ bows were used in a whip-like fashion that reminded me of those plastic tubes we used to whirl around over our heads to get weird pseudo-singing sounds. As strange as this piece was, I found that I really enjoyed it.
I’ll be going back for more Midday Masterpieces.
ConcertMeister
Dana Kelley, viola; Joann Whang, cello
String Quartet in C Major, Opus 74, No. 1 – Franz Joseph Haydn
This Is My Scary Robot Voice – Kerrith Livengood
Satellites – Garth Knox
This was the first concert of Midday Masterpieces’ new season, and quite enjoyable it was. These are free, hour-long concerts sponsored by WQXR, featuring students from The Juilliard School. Without a printed program, I don’t have movement names or composition dates, so my notes are a bit more scattered than usual. The first movement of the Haydn had a brief intro followed by a fun, moderately busy movement with a nice mix of different tempos. The second was slower to begin with but still full of energy. The third was dance-like (minuet?), and also fun, with more of that characteristic energy of the work plus a few touches of drama along the way. The fourth movement continued the energy, this time with fancy finger work thrown in for good measure. I’m not big on the theory of different moods associated with different keys, but the C Major here, along with the energy throughout, made this work seem cheerful and bright. And it was played very well.
Both Scary Robot and Satellites are by living composers, and in brief remarks from the stage, Ms. Kim described a bit of Scary Robot and what the composer was trying to achieve. The piece was very modern, pitting the composer’s normal voice (sort of shy and retiring) with her scary robot voice (more forceful and in your face). A slightly surreal opening had unison string pitches that then went to different players veering away from that unison, sometimes with dissonant notes and sometimes with just microtones creating the dissonances. A louder section reminded me of the adult voices in a Peanuts cartoon special. There was alternation between the two different voices, with slight variations from time to time. Interesting techniques were on display, but musically, it didn’t quite work for me.
Even though Satellites had three movements, the second and third seemed to blend together.
[Okay, I went scurrying to my good friend, the internet. This, from performance notes that I found: “Although Satellites was conceived as an organic whole, the three movements can also be performed separately, or in twos … When all three are performed, it is suggested to link the movements together, by ... holding the last note of the second movement on first violin until the viola enters to begin the last movement.”]
The first movement started out with lots and lots of pizzicato (plucked strings) that then had bowed strings from the violins, as well. The mix of techniques was nice, with the ever-present pizzicato as the glue holding it together. The second movement, Spectral Sunrise, had dramatic, sweeping sounds—a real feeling of something arising out of nothingness. The individual sunrises were pretty easy to detect. The piece then continued with yet again more mixing of techniques that somehow made the piece feel like Gustav Holst’s Planets gone goony. At one point, the players’ bows were used in a whip-like fashion that reminded me of those plastic tubes we used to whirl around over our heads to get weird pseudo-singing sounds. As strange as this piece was, I found that I really enjoyed it.
I’ll be going back for more Midday Masterpieces.
ConcertMeister
Monday, September 4, 2017
The Plantation (9/2/17)
If this sounds familiar, it is. I attended a production of this play in August 2015 and posted about it on this blog. I attended a production of it again in 2016 but did not post. It's an adaptation of Chekov's The Cherry Orchard set in Virginia in the post-Reconstruction period. On that level, it works pretty well.
In taking a look at my earlier blog post, I was surprised to see that one of the things I missed in this production was one of the things that I liked (but had a problem with) in 2015. All three performances I've seen have taken place in a lovely, restored building on Governors Island. In 2015, the audience moved from place to place, which I liked, but it also broke up the flow of the four acts. In 2015 and 2016, all of the staging is indoors, but not everyone gets to see all of the staging. It's a bit of a Catch-22.
Some of the performers I saw on Saturday were the same for all three iterations. For the record, the play is produced by Brooklyn's Brave New World Repertory Theatre, which uses a mix of Equity and non-Equity actors. The performers were very good, across the boards. I even saw a couple of them on my return ferry and offered my congratulations. They were surprised that I had seen all three iterations—they don't know ConcertMeister!
That said, there is a musical element—the Fisk Jubilee Singers—that seemed to have a smaller role this time around. They provide atmosphere and bridging of scenes. A banjo was added which was pleasant but not really necessary.
The 'Cherry Orchard/Virginia' link was referenced mainly by the magnolia trees, on the Plantation that was being stripped of its heritage and ownership. In the sound effects department, the chopping down of the trees toward the end of the play sounded more like the clanging of water pipes, to me.
Part of me would really like to see a straightforward production of this play. In version I, we saw the house actually being closed down. That was not visible to most of the audience in versions II and III. And it's a powerful image. And the ending—one former slave left behind—is weak if he has to walk into the scene instead of being discovered there.
There's a lot right about this production. I'd like to see even more right. For those of you interested (and if the search function works for you on the ConcertMeister site) just search on 'plantation' and you'll find my 8/17/15 post.
ConcertMeister (PlayMeister, here.)
In taking a look at my earlier blog post, I was surprised to see that one of the things I missed in this production was one of the things that I liked (but had a problem with) in 2015. All three performances I've seen have taken place in a lovely, restored building on Governors Island. In 2015, the audience moved from place to place, which I liked, but it also broke up the flow of the four acts. In 2015 and 2016, all of the staging is indoors, but not everyone gets to see all of the staging. It's a bit of a Catch-22.
Some of the performers I saw on Saturday were the same for all three iterations. For the record, the play is produced by Brooklyn's Brave New World Repertory Theatre, which uses a mix of Equity and non-Equity actors. The performers were very good, across the boards. I even saw a couple of them on my return ferry and offered my congratulations. They were surprised that I had seen all three iterations—they don't know ConcertMeister!
That said, there is a musical element—the Fisk Jubilee Singers—that seemed to have a smaller role this time around. They provide atmosphere and bridging of scenes. A banjo was added which was pleasant but not really necessary.
The 'Cherry Orchard/Virginia' link was referenced mainly by the magnolia trees, on the Plantation that was being stripped of its heritage and ownership. In the sound effects department, the chopping down of the trees toward the end of the play sounded more like the clanging of water pipes, to me.
Part of me would really like to see a straightforward production of this play. In version I, we saw the house actually being closed down. That was not visible to most of the audience in versions II and III. And it's a powerful image. And the ending—one former slave left behind—is weak if he has to walk into the scene instead of being discovered there.
There's a lot right about this production. I'd like to see even more right. For those of you interested (and if the search function works for you on the ConcertMeister site) just search on 'plantation' and you'll find my 8/17/15 post.
ConcertMeister (PlayMeister, here.)
Saturday, September 2, 2017
Cantata Profana (8/27/17)
Jacob Ashworth, violin; Bixby Kennedy, clarinet; Lee Dionne, piano
Suite for clarinet, violin, and piano, Op. 157b (1936) – I. Overture –
Darius Milhaud (1892–1974)
Duo Concertante for violin and piano (1932) – I. Cantilène; II. Eglogue I;
III. Eglogue II; IV. Gigue; V. Dithyrambe – Igor Stravinsky (1882–1971)
Suite for clarinet, violin, and piano, Op. 157b – II. Divertissement – Milhaud
Sonata in Eb Major for clarinet and piano, Op. 120, No. 2 (1894) –
I. Allegro amabile; II. Allegro appassionato; III. Andante con moto – Allegro – Johannes Brahms (1833–1897)
Suite for clarinet, violin, and piano, Op. 157b – III. Jeu – Milhaud
Suite from L’Histoire du Soldat (The Soldier’s Tale) (1918) – I. Marche du Soldat; II. Le violon du Soldat; III. Pastorale; IV. Marche Royale; V. Petit Concert; VI. Tango—Valse—Rag; VII. Danse du Diable – Stravinsky
’Tis the season! No, not quite that season yet, but Sunday’s concert was the opening of the season for Concerts on the Slope. At first glance, the program looked a little disjointed. That’s because it was—the three movements of the Milhaud were not played together. That made it slightly awkward since audiences usually don’t applaud individual movements and this audience didn’t quite know what to do at the end of the first piece on the program. Eventually we did applaud. I’m going to treat the Milhaud as one entire work and comment on the three movements here. It opened with all three players with a sound that was very full, bright and slightly impressionistic. It was tuneful and fun. The second movement had the violin and clarinet bouncing phrases back and forth before joining together, eventually joined by the piano as well, with all three playing calmly and pleasantly. The third movement was very playful, scored for violin and clarinet only, which seemed odd to me. My notes read (no piano?). Well as it turns out, that was strange because the suite has a Finale for all three instruments that was not included on this concert. So it was odd to have the movements spread out through the concert and to not hear the complete work.
The Stravinsky violin/piano duo had a slightly mysterious opening that was modern but not all that jarring; after a louder section it had a softer ending. The second movement had gentler, smooth violin lines paired with an energetic running accompaniment in the piano, and then turning rather boisterous for the end. The third movement was rather spare for both, to begin with, pretty in its own way even with modern-sounding phrases and intervals. This truly felt like a duo. The fourth was, not surprisingly, a dance-like gigue. It had an energy that was not quite unbridled, and a feeling of perpetual motion. There was a brief, calmer section before the energetic drive returned for what seemed a rather long section that then ended abruptly. The last movement was slightly mysterious again—in fact, it was pretty much a copy of the first movement, in terms of overall feel as opposed to the actual music, including a quiet ending.
The clarinet/piano sonata of Brahms began with a nice, gentle romantic-era feel. Even with its mix of calmer and bolder moments, scattered ideas and meandering paths, it was enjoyable to listen to. (Between the movements, there was some late arrival seating—3:40pm for a 3:00pm concert!) The second movement was richer and fuller, and more focused, compositionally. A contrasting section had a piano solo opening with the clarinet eventually joining. A solid, more tuneful section followed, although it also wandered a little. The final movement had a fairly quiet opening, with a build-up to more substantial writing, though there was also a lot of back and forth with a mixture of tempos and volume, altogether too segmented for my taste. The allegro at the end was exciting in its way but felt as though it was merely tacked on as an afterthought.
A little bit of history about L’Histoire was announced from the stage. It was slightly confusing, so it sent me to my good friend Wikipedia. L’Histoire is a theatrical piece by Stravinsky that was originally scored for a septet. When the suite was created, it included only five of the seven movements. Stravinsky then created the trio version we heard, but Mr. Kennedy reinstated the Pastorale and Marche Royale. Whew!
The piece opened with typical Stravinsky rhythms. Having somewhat of a primitive feel, it was definitely a march that included some strident clarinet writing. The second movement was a piano and violin duo, with the clarinet eventually joining in. The third was much calmer at the beginning, with more dissonances and a few louder outbursts from time to time amid the, overall, calm movement. The very obvious march followed, which was full and rhythmic and sometimes a bit harsh. The fifth movement was brisk with driving rhythms for all three players, chugging along. It had a few relatively quiet interludes but for the most part, the louder sections were almost relentless. For the sixth, the piano and violin tango was more hinted at than real—the waltz that followed had violin and clarinet lines above an oom-pah-pah over and over and over from the piano—then a smooth segue into the rag, which was also more hinted at, in terms of rhythms. The ending movement had a harsh, almost violent opening. The dance seemed tinged with evil, or at least danger, and was quite appropriate for a dance of the devil. All in all, even with its harshness, driving rhythms, and relentless moments, the entire piece worked as a whole for me. All three players performed very well throughout the afternoon, and returned for a well deserved encore.
A note on this ‘free’ concert. As with many others, there is a suggested donation, in this case twenty dollars. While I didn’t put that much into the free-will offering basket at the back of the church, I did contribute. And one of the good things about the Slope concerts is that all of the donations go directly to the performers—there is nothing taken out for expenses, etc.
ConcertMeister
Suite for clarinet, violin, and piano, Op. 157b (1936) – I. Overture –
Darius Milhaud (1892–1974)
Duo Concertante for violin and piano (1932) – I. Cantilène; II. Eglogue I;
III. Eglogue II; IV. Gigue; V. Dithyrambe – Igor Stravinsky (1882–1971)
Suite for clarinet, violin, and piano, Op. 157b – II. Divertissement – Milhaud
Sonata in Eb Major for clarinet and piano, Op. 120, No. 2 (1894) –
I. Allegro amabile; II. Allegro appassionato; III. Andante con moto – Allegro – Johannes Brahms (1833–1897)
Suite for clarinet, violin, and piano, Op. 157b – III. Jeu – Milhaud
Suite from L’Histoire du Soldat (The Soldier’s Tale) (1918) – I. Marche du Soldat; II. Le violon du Soldat; III. Pastorale; IV. Marche Royale; V. Petit Concert; VI. Tango—Valse—Rag; VII. Danse du Diable – Stravinsky
’Tis the season! No, not quite that season yet, but Sunday’s concert was the opening of the season for Concerts on the Slope. At first glance, the program looked a little disjointed. That’s because it was—the three movements of the Milhaud were not played together. That made it slightly awkward since audiences usually don’t applaud individual movements and this audience didn’t quite know what to do at the end of the first piece on the program. Eventually we did applaud. I’m going to treat the Milhaud as one entire work and comment on the three movements here. It opened with all three players with a sound that was very full, bright and slightly impressionistic. It was tuneful and fun. The second movement had the violin and clarinet bouncing phrases back and forth before joining together, eventually joined by the piano as well, with all three playing calmly and pleasantly. The third movement was very playful, scored for violin and clarinet only, which seemed odd to me. My notes read (no piano?). Well as it turns out, that was strange because the suite has a Finale for all three instruments that was not included on this concert. So it was odd to have the movements spread out through the concert and to not hear the complete work.
The Stravinsky violin/piano duo had a slightly mysterious opening that was modern but not all that jarring; after a louder section it had a softer ending. The second movement had gentler, smooth violin lines paired with an energetic running accompaniment in the piano, and then turning rather boisterous for the end. The third movement was rather spare for both, to begin with, pretty in its own way even with modern-sounding phrases and intervals. This truly felt like a duo. The fourth was, not surprisingly, a dance-like gigue. It had an energy that was not quite unbridled, and a feeling of perpetual motion. There was a brief, calmer section before the energetic drive returned for what seemed a rather long section that then ended abruptly. The last movement was slightly mysterious again—in fact, it was pretty much a copy of the first movement, in terms of overall feel as opposed to the actual music, including a quiet ending.
The clarinet/piano sonata of Brahms began with a nice, gentle romantic-era feel. Even with its mix of calmer and bolder moments, scattered ideas and meandering paths, it was enjoyable to listen to. (Between the movements, there was some late arrival seating—3:40pm for a 3:00pm concert!) The second movement was richer and fuller, and more focused, compositionally. A contrasting section had a piano solo opening with the clarinet eventually joining. A solid, more tuneful section followed, although it also wandered a little. The final movement had a fairly quiet opening, with a build-up to more substantial writing, though there was also a lot of back and forth with a mixture of tempos and volume, altogether too segmented for my taste. The allegro at the end was exciting in its way but felt as though it was merely tacked on as an afterthought.
A little bit of history about L’Histoire was announced from the stage. It was slightly confusing, so it sent me to my good friend Wikipedia. L’Histoire is a theatrical piece by Stravinsky that was originally scored for a septet. When the suite was created, it included only five of the seven movements. Stravinsky then created the trio version we heard, but Mr. Kennedy reinstated the Pastorale and Marche Royale. Whew!
The piece opened with typical Stravinsky rhythms. Having somewhat of a primitive feel, it was definitely a march that included some strident clarinet writing. The second movement was a piano and violin duo, with the clarinet eventually joining in. The third was much calmer at the beginning, with more dissonances and a few louder outbursts from time to time amid the, overall, calm movement. The very obvious march followed, which was full and rhythmic and sometimes a bit harsh. The fifth movement was brisk with driving rhythms for all three players, chugging along. It had a few relatively quiet interludes but for the most part, the louder sections were almost relentless. For the sixth, the piano and violin tango was more hinted at than real—the waltz that followed had violin and clarinet lines above an oom-pah-pah over and over and over from the piano—then a smooth segue into the rag, which was also more hinted at, in terms of rhythms. The ending movement had a harsh, almost violent opening. The dance seemed tinged with evil, or at least danger, and was quite appropriate for a dance of the devil. All in all, even with its harshness, driving rhythms, and relentless moments, the entire piece worked as a whole for me. All three players performed very well throughout the afternoon, and returned for a well deserved encore.
A note on this ‘free’ concert. As with many others, there is a suggested donation, in this case twenty dollars. While I didn’t put that much into the free-will offering basket at the back of the church, I did contribute. And one of the good things about the Slope concerts is that all of the donations go directly to the performers—there is nothing taken out for expenses, etc.
ConcertMeister
Wednesday, August 23, 2017
Rite of Summer (8/13/17)
Contemporaneous – “The Two Halves” was the title of the final concert in this summer series.
Contemporaneous is an ensemble whose mission is to bring to life the music of now. Sunday’s concert listing was as follows:
Aphelia (2017) – Ian Gottlieb (b. 1990)
Vertical Fields (2014) – Emma O’Halloran (b. 1985)
The Two Halves (2014) – The Platelayers, The Great Sunstroke, The Exile, The Giant Sleeps, The Two Halves, The Azimuth – Finnegan Shanahan (b. 1992)
Aphelia was scored for piano (four hands), electric guitar, electric bass, and percussion (drum set, marimba, and spun cymbals). It was very New Age-y, with a slight Latin-esque beat, essentially a wash of sound that did not make much of an impression on me. The spun cymbals were interesting—literally cymbals from a drum set that a percussionist spun on their edges while sitting on the stage. Not in a chair, mind you, actually on the stage.
Though I may have mentioned this before, Rite of Summer is an out-of-doors performance series that takes place on Governors Island. Because of that, I found Vertical Fields to be a little out of place, being scored for only piano, violin, and cello. The music itself was not quite Philip Glass but it was darn close. It consisted of very short phrases repeated over and over, with slight variation or expansion from time to time. I understand the concept. It’s not one that I find particularly appealing.
The Two Halves was definitely the main event of the afternoon, scored for a large ensemble that included flute, clarinet, saxophone, voice, horn, trumpet, trombone, guitar, keyboard, and percussion, among others. In fact, Mr. Shanahan played violin, guitar, and keyboard and also contributed vocals. David Bloom, conductor, told us that Contemporaneous has played the piece many times and always looks forward to performing it. I found myself wondering whether Mr. Shanahan would have to be replaced by two or three musicians, if he was not able to be a part of a performance of the work. The six movements all ran together, so it was hard to tell them apart at times. I did, however, get a hint of the titles from the music I was hearing. Sometimes. The sounds were varied in terms of volume and tempo, and the whole thing chugged along in an amiable fashion. I know that I’ve commented before about broadening my horizons, but this is as broad as I think I want to go, for a while at least. I’ll most likely go back for more next summer, though.
ConcertMeister
Contemporaneous is an ensemble whose mission is to bring to life the music of now. Sunday’s concert listing was as follows:
Aphelia (2017) – Ian Gottlieb (b. 1990)
Vertical Fields (2014) – Emma O’Halloran (b. 1985)
The Two Halves (2014) – The Platelayers, The Great Sunstroke, The Exile, The Giant Sleeps, The Two Halves, The Azimuth – Finnegan Shanahan (b. 1992)
Aphelia was scored for piano (four hands), electric guitar, electric bass, and percussion (drum set, marimba, and spun cymbals). It was very New Age-y, with a slight Latin-esque beat, essentially a wash of sound that did not make much of an impression on me. The spun cymbals were interesting—literally cymbals from a drum set that a percussionist spun on their edges while sitting on the stage. Not in a chair, mind you, actually on the stage.
Though I may have mentioned this before, Rite of Summer is an out-of-doors performance series that takes place on Governors Island. Because of that, I found Vertical Fields to be a little out of place, being scored for only piano, violin, and cello. The music itself was not quite Philip Glass but it was darn close. It consisted of very short phrases repeated over and over, with slight variation or expansion from time to time. I understand the concept. It’s not one that I find particularly appealing.
The Two Halves was definitely the main event of the afternoon, scored for a large ensemble that included flute, clarinet, saxophone, voice, horn, trumpet, trombone, guitar, keyboard, and percussion, among others. In fact, Mr. Shanahan played violin, guitar, and keyboard and also contributed vocals. David Bloom, conductor, told us that Contemporaneous has played the piece many times and always looks forward to performing it. I found myself wondering whether Mr. Shanahan would have to be replaced by two or three musicians, if he was not able to be a part of a performance of the work. The six movements all ran together, so it was hard to tell them apart at times. I did, however, get a hint of the titles from the music I was hearing. Sometimes. The sounds were varied in terms of volume and tempo, and the whole thing chugged along in an amiable fashion. I know that I’ve commented before about broadening my horizons, but this is as broad as I think I want to go, for a while at least. I’ll most likely go back for more next summer, though.
ConcertMeister
Thursday, August 10, 2017
Sunday Afternoon Jazz (8/6/17)
Audrey Silver, vocals
Larry Corban, guitar
This was a rather pleasant way to spend an hour at the Lenox Hill Neighborhood House. A small (maybe forty people) audience heard a dozen-plus tunes. There was no printed program, so my notes are a bit haphazard.
Ms. Silver sang with a microphone attached to a small reverb box (it probably has a real name but I’m not going to go searching) and Mr. Corban was appropriately amped up.
The first song was called It’s a Wonderful World but it was not the one I’m used to, and I did not get the composer’s name. Mr. Corban’s tapping/slapping foot was the percussion for most of the afternoon, though not for every song. Ms. Silver’s voice was pretty in a slightly breathy, easygoing jazz way, and she did a mild scat section here and in a couple of other pieces, as well.
Gershwin’s Isn’t It a Pity? followed, with If I Had You (1928) after that. There was a bit of patter between the two performers, but only Ms. Silver had a mic, so it didn’t really work too well. I rather enjoyed Monk’s Dream, by Thelonious Monk, with its up tempo flair.
I had to research the name Antonio Carlos Jobim, who was the composer of the next tune, Meditation, which was fun, after a false start by the guitarist. Which brings up the laid back feel of the afternoon. Apparently there was no written set ahead of time, since Ms. Silver pulled sheets of music (sometimes randomly, it seemed) before briefly working out a tempo with Mr. Corban and then beginning. The whole thing was a little too laid back for my taste. Meditation had a Latin flair while Je t’embrasser, sung in French, was quieter. I found it slightly odd that the tune is known to me as Heart of my Heart. Maybe it’s just a setting of different words to that tune.
Strangely, it was about this time that I noticed patrons leaving early. I’m not sure why, but when all was said and done, about a quarter of the audience had left before the end of the program. The next song was Just a Garden in the Rain, followed by New Year’s Eve, which had a definite NYC vibe and was written by Ms. Silver. Small Day Tomorrow, written by Bob Dorough, was next. Although he’s a fine jazz composer, he’s also known for writing music for Schoolhouse Rock! Who knew? He’s also still performing at age ninety-three.
Right after I Thought about You, a cell phone went off, even though there had been an announcement from the stage to silence all devices before the program began. It was not mine. Another Gershwin tune, But Not for Me, was next. As a bit of a nod to Rosemary Clooney, Ms. Silver followed that with I’ll Be Seeing You.
An Irving Berlin song, How Deep Is the Ocean? was next, and then the afternoon ended with an up tempo version of Exactly Like You. I may check out some future programming at the Neighborhood House as a nice way to spend a brief part of a Sunday afternoon.
ConcertMeister
Larry Corban, guitar
This was a rather pleasant way to spend an hour at the Lenox Hill Neighborhood House. A small (maybe forty people) audience heard a dozen-plus tunes. There was no printed program, so my notes are a bit haphazard.
Ms. Silver sang with a microphone attached to a small reverb box (it probably has a real name but I’m not going to go searching) and Mr. Corban was appropriately amped up.
The first song was called It’s a Wonderful World but it was not the one I’m used to, and I did not get the composer’s name. Mr. Corban’s tapping/slapping foot was the percussion for most of the afternoon, though not for every song. Ms. Silver’s voice was pretty in a slightly breathy, easygoing jazz way, and she did a mild scat section here and in a couple of other pieces, as well.
Gershwin’s Isn’t It a Pity? followed, with If I Had You (1928) after that. There was a bit of patter between the two performers, but only Ms. Silver had a mic, so it didn’t really work too well. I rather enjoyed Monk’s Dream, by Thelonious Monk, with its up tempo flair.
I had to research the name Antonio Carlos Jobim, who was the composer of the next tune, Meditation, which was fun, after a false start by the guitarist. Which brings up the laid back feel of the afternoon. Apparently there was no written set ahead of time, since Ms. Silver pulled sheets of music (sometimes randomly, it seemed) before briefly working out a tempo with Mr. Corban and then beginning. The whole thing was a little too laid back for my taste. Meditation had a Latin flair while Je t’embrasser, sung in French, was quieter. I found it slightly odd that the tune is known to me as Heart of my Heart. Maybe it’s just a setting of different words to that tune.
Strangely, it was about this time that I noticed patrons leaving early. I’m not sure why, but when all was said and done, about a quarter of the audience had left before the end of the program. The next song was Just a Garden in the Rain, followed by New Year’s Eve, which had a definite NYC vibe and was written by Ms. Silver. Small Day Tomorrow, written by Bob Dorough, was next. Although he’s a fine jazz composer, he’s also known for writing music for Schoolhouse Rock! Who knew? He’s also still performing at age ninety-three.
Right after I Thought about You, a cell phone went off, even though there had been an announcement from the stage to silence all devices before the program began. It was not mine. Another Gershwin tune, But Not for Me, was next. As a bit of a nod to Rosemary Clooney, Ms. Silver followed that with I’ll Be Seeing You.
An Irving Berlin song, How Deep Is the Ocean? was next, and then the afternoon ended with an up tempo version of Exactly Like You. I may check out some future programming at the Neighborhood House as a nice way to spend a brief part of a Sunday afternoon.
ConcertMeister
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