Yo-Yo Ma
WXQR and other online venues
OK, the playing was absolutely wonderful. The lack of information ahead of time and during the performance was woefully sad. I understand that I’m going to need to do more exploring in this ‘new normal’ world. Still.
I’m guessing that Mr. Ma played the six J. S. Bach suites in numerical order, but I never really found that out. I’m guessing that each suite had several movements, but I never really found that out. While listening to the two-and-a-half-hour concert, I was never quite sure when one suite ended and another began. Maybe that’s on me; I have n0t studied the intricacies of the solo cello suites. A little guidance would have gone a long, long way.
I knew about the performance because it was announced ahead of time on WQXR (and BabyBro alerted me). I guessed that the live performance was not happening in NYC (and I was right), otherwise WQXR would have been promoting the venue much more strongly. It took place in Boston, not that there’s anything wrong with that.
After all was said and done (though little was said), I enjoyed the performance. The suites themselves are a little too similar for my taste, and they leave a little to be desired, for me, in terms of specific interest. One of the most interesting things to me was when Mr. Ma (after the fourth suite?) explained that he needed to reset the pin on his cello after the workout the instrument had been given.
Teaching moment: the pin is the metal piece at the bottom of the cello that links it to the floor. Some cellists will use a strap of some sort to connect to the leg of the cellist’s chair and has a hole that the pin can poke into for stability. Most cellists do not use one. I’m guessing that Mr. Ma did not. Since it was radio, I’ll never know unless I do a lot more online exploring, which I am not inclined to do.
Overall, it was a once in a lifetime listening experience. And though I’m glad I experienced it, I was not bowled over. I really would have appreciated an online program—order of suites, movements of each suite, etc. Yes, the music is aural. Knowing what to expect is visual. I like to experience both.
ConcertMeister
Tuesday, May 26, 2020
Tuesday, April 28, 2020
Serenade to Music (4/28/20)
Ralph Vaughan Williams (1872–1958)
WQXR (4/23/20)
Ralph (pronounced “Rafe”) Vaughan Williams wrote this work in 1938 for orchestra and sixteen vocal soloists. He later created versions for orchestra and chorus as well as for orchestra only, with solo violin. I was fortunate many moons ago to perform the orchestra-chorus version. The text is taken from portions of Shakespeare’s Merchant of Venice. Here’s the deal, though. I almost always hear the orchestra-only version on WQXR (New York City’s classical music station). Imagine my surprise and delight when I heard the orchestra-chorus version recently. I was moved to email the station:
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
This past Thursday was the first time I have heard the vocal version of RVW’s Serenade to Music on WQXR in a long, long time. I really appreciate it. I sang it years ago with an amateur choral society. Every time I see it on a WQXR playlist, I hope that it will be the vocal version.
This is a real pleasure.
David Mallard
DuckDeadeye
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
After a couple of misfires (OK, I’m not the most tech-savvy ’Meister), I got this response:
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Thanks for this note, Mr. Mallard.
You and a couple of others are among the fierce listeners who want the full vocal version every time, and while I don't blame you a bit, I like the other version, too.
And if you haven't heard the “original cast” recording of the work, please enjoy it here:
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tq8sczVU5o8
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Now, for the record, I don’t really want the vocal version every time. Once in a while would be nice though. Which is why I was so moved to email them in the first place.
Anyhoo, the piece is about fourteen minutes long, in case you’re inclined to listen. And also for the record, the on-air talent often says (of the orchestral version) that listeners respond with, “What is that? I love that; I want that.” And I agree. However, I also think that it’s important to hear the work as it was originally created as well as in other versions created by the composer himself.
ConcertMeister (aka RadioMeister)
WQXR (4/23/20)
Ralph (pronounced “Rafe”) Vaughan Williams wrote this work in 1938 for orchestra and sixteen vocal soloists. He later created versions for orchestra and chorus as well as for orchestra only, with solo violin. I was fortunate many moons ago to perform the orchestra-chorus version. The text is taken from portions of Shakespeare’s Merchant of Venice. Here’s the deal, though. I almost always hear the orchestra-only version on WQXR (New York City’s classical music station). Imagine my surprise and delight when I heard the orchestra-chorus version recently. I was moved to email the station:
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
This past Thursday was the first time I have heard the vocal version of RVW’s Serenade to Music on WQXR in a long, long time. I really appreciate it. I sang it years ago with an amateur choral society. Every time I see it on a WQXR playlist, I hope that it will be the vocal version.
This is a real pleasure.
David Mallard
DuckDeadeye
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
After a couple of misfires (OK, I’m not the most tech-savvy ’Meister), I got this response:
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Thanks for this note, Mr. Mallard.
You and a couple of others are among the fierce listeners who want the full vocal version every time, and while I don't blame you a bit, I like the other version, too.
And if you haven't heard the “original cast” recording of the work, please enjoy it here:
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tq8sczVU5o8
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Now, for the record, I don’t really want the vocal version every time. Once in a while would be nice though. Which is why I was so moved to email them in the first place.
Anyhoo, the piece is about fourteen minutes long, in case you’re inclined to listen. And also for the record, the on-air talent often says (of the orchestral version) that listeners respond with, “What is that? I love that; I want that.” And I agree. However, I also think that it’s important to hear the work as it was originally created as well as in other versions created by the composer himself.
ConcertMeister (aka RadioMeister)
Saturday, April 11, 2020
America the Beautiful (4/11/20)
Hello, all. In this strange new world we're living in, I'm sending a link to a virtual performance. I may try to do a few more. (And a shout out to my cousin Lee.)
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=drAwiNNG3Fk&feature=youtu.be&fbclid=IwAR2GunKF26E2mkG4kOm8DEMlcbebYFNgDJEmSWDjsEeXemjku1KVSwZfRAo
You may have to copy the link into your browser. Sorry, I'm new at this.
Stay safe and sane.
ConcertMeister
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=drAwiNNG3Fk&feature=youtu.be&fbclid=IwAR2GunKF26E2mkG4kOm8DEMlcbebYFNgDJEmSWDjsEeXemjku1KVSwZfRAo
You may have to copy the link into your browser. Sorry, I'm new at this.
Stay safe and sane.
ConcertMeister
Sunday, February 16, 2020
Songbook (1/27/20)
Featuring the music of Ben Caplan
Apparently Mr. Caplan is a composer/lyricist, since I saw no other names mentioned. And he was the musical director/pianist, backed by guitar, bass (electric), drums, reeds, strings and clarinet (if I recall, the clarinetist played in only one piece, hence was not part of reeds, above—why, yes, I am temping at a law firm).
Interestingly, five of the twelve pieces performed were from Mr. Caplan’s I Don’t Want to Talk About It. Wisely, they were dispersed throughout the concert.
The first piece was the name of the show, and it was described as ‘An Adult Schoolhouse Rock’—as a result, it was a little too ‘rock’ for my taste. Alas, I think this is where musical theater is headed. That said, it had clear lyrics and a nice orchestration. The second piece (also from the show named above) was I’m Afraid of Everything, which included planes, heights, really long words and love. Thunk! There it is. Aren’t we all really afraid of love?
The ninth song (also from I Don’t Want to Talk About It) was quite dark. It was performed very well, and dealt in a straightforward way with PTSD, which is at the heart of the musical. That said, the Act II opener of the show was one of my favorites of the evening. Called The Pill Song, it dealt with stimulants, mood levelers, anti-psychotics and caffeine. More to the point, it featured four guys singing in harmony—including a brief, a cappella barbershop segment. The final song of the performance was also from this show. It deserves, and will get, its due later.
There were two epic numbers in the evening, as far as I was concerned. The first dealt with a pair of guys who performed The Ballad of the Cheesecake Factory. These two set a goal for themselves to eat everything on the menu of the chain restaurant. When they realized that it was a 30-page! menu, they still decided to go for it. In a new experience for me, one of the guys went face-first down into a slice of cheesecake to finish the number. Funny, funny stuff. This was a stand-alone song.
The other epic song was also a stand-alone song. One Night in Tel Aviv recounts, vividly, a young man’s trip to Israel. He goes via Birthright, a legit free trip to Israel for young(!) people to tap into their Jewish heritage (I’m not making this up, you know). He not only learns about his heritage, he loses his virginity. Also, funny, funny stuff.
The final song of the evening was also from I Don’t Want to Talk About It. Days I Can had a gentle opening and then dealt, introspectively, with trying to explain the inexplicable about PTSD. Very moving. Maybe it could be a very moving musical?
I must give a shout out to John Znidarsic and his co-producer, Jen Sandler. These folks get all of the performers to volunteer their time for these performances. As an audience member, you never know who you’re going to see—an up-and-coming Broadway performer? A current Broadway performer? In this case, I saw a Fiero (current or former, I don’t remember which) from Wicked, and Tony Award winner James Monroe Iglehart (Aladdin, Genie). And all for free! (I generally put a few bucks in the contribution box from time to time at the Library for the Performing Arts.)
ConcertMeister
Apparently Mr. Caplan is a composer/lyricist, since I saw no other names mentioned. And he was the musical director/pianist, backed by guitar, bass (electric), drums, reeds, strings and clarinet (if I recall, the clarinetist played in only one piece, hence was not part of reeds, above—why, yes, I am temping at a law firm).
Interestingly, five of the twelve pieces performed were from Mr. Caplan’s I Don’t Want to Talk About It. Wisely, they were dispersed throughout the concert.
The first piece was the name of the show, and it was described as ‘An Adult Schoolhouse Rock’—as a result, it was a little too ‘rock’ for my taste. Alas, I think this is where musical theater is headed. That said, it had clear lyrics and a nice orchestration. The second piece (also from the show named above) was I’m Afraid of Everything, which included planes, heights, really long words and love. Thunk! There it is. Aren’t we all really afraid of love?
The ninth song (also from I Don’t Want to Talk About It) was quite dark. It was performed very well, and dealt in a straightforward way with PTSD, which is at the heart of the musical. That said, the Act II opener of the show was one of my favorites of the evening. Called The Pill Song, it dealt with stimulants, mood levelers, anti-psychotics and caffeine. More to the point, it featured four guys singing in harmony—including a brief, a cappella barbershop segment. The final song of the performance was also from this show. It deserves, and will get, its due later.
There were two epic numbers in the evening, as far as I was concerned. The first dealt with a pair of guys who performed The Ballad of the Cheesecake Factory. These two set a goal for themselves to eat everything on the menu of the chain restaurant. When they realized that it was a 30-page! menu, they still decided to go for it. In a new experience for me, one of the guys went face-first down into a slice of cheesecake to finish the number. Funny, funny stuff. This was a stand-alone song.
The other epic song was also a stand-alone song. One Night in Tel Aviv recounts, vividly, a young man’s trip to Israel. He goes via Birthright, a legit free trip to Israel for young(!) people to tap into their Jewish heritage (I’m not making this up, you know). He not only learns about his heritage, he loses his virginity. Also, funny, funny stuff.
The final song of the evening was also from I Don’t Want to Talk About It. Days I Can had a gentle opening and then dealt, introspectively, with trying to explain the inexplicable about PTSD. Very moving. Maybe it could be a very moving musical?
I must give a shout out to John Znidarsic and his co-producer, Jen Sandler. These folks get all of the performers to volunteer their time for these performances. As an audience member, you never know who you’re going to see—an up-and-coming Broadway performer? A current Broadway performer? In this case, I saw a Fiero (current or former, I don’t remember which) from Wicked, and Tony Award winner James Monroe Iglehart (Aladdin, Genie). And all for free! (I generally put a few bucks in the contribution box from time to time at the Library for the Performing Arts.)
ConcertMeister
Sunday, February 9, 2020
A Tale of Two Quartets (1/25/20 and 2/1/20)
The Manhattan Saxophone Quartet played seven pieces on Saturday, 1/25. All seven were played by all four members. Here’s the thing about a saxophone quartet—it’s interesting. At first. All seven of the pieces had a connection with French music. A lot of the composers set out to (or so it seemed to me) be as quirky as possible. As a result, there was not a huge variety in the afternoon.
All but one of the composers were new to me. I enjoyed the opening piece, the fourth movement of Jérôme Savari’s Quatuor pour saxophones – Allegro moderato (1861 or 1862). It was jaunty and, oddly, slightly jazzy, though that could have been the newness of hearing four saxophones all at once. The second piece, by Gabriel Pierné (the only composer I recognized) was Introduction et variations sur une ronde populaire (1934). It was slightly dark and somber. The variations began with a sprightly phrase and then were varied in tempo—slow/fast/slow and lilting/faster/really fast, and included modern harmonies that were not too jarring. Nuages (literally, clouds, in French) put me in the mood of a swirling snowstorm. The other multi-movement works didn’t quite do it for me.
The final work, Cache-cache (roughly translated as ‘Hide and Seek’ and written in 1930) was a fun, playful piece, and a very good way to end the concert.
On, now, to 1893.
The New York Classical Players – New Worlds; Dvorak and Debussy String Quartets.
Well, sort of. As it turned out, the program was:
Sonata for Violin and Cello (1922) – (dedicated to Claude Debussy) – Maurice Ravel (1835–1937)
String Quartet in F Major, Op. 96 No. 12, “American” (1893) – Antonin Dvorak (1841–1904)
String Quartet in G minor, Op.10 (1893) – Claude Debussy (1862–1918)
Why in the world Ravel dedicated a work to a dead man is beyond me, but c’est la vie. “La vie.” (Always go for the cheap laugh, taught Mikey.)
There were four movements of the Ravel. The second was my favorite. There were pizzicato sections for both violin and cello, then a very dramatic section followed by a very lyrical section. The entire work was good. But that second movement was my favorite.
The Dvorak quartet was a joy. The first movement had a lovely motif to open with—very tonal and lightly joyful and lush, at times. It was charming and captivating. The second movement was a gently rocking accompaniment to a solo violin line. The solo violin line was then thrown to the cello in an absolutely lovely and poignant way. The third movement brought back one of the themes from the first movement but expanded on it—a perfect blend of charm, poignancy, drama, and fun. The final movement was almost, but not quite, off to the races. It was energetic and effervescent, even though there were contrasting slower sections. But it finished with energy and charm.
As a plus, these four performers knew how to take a bow—often, performers seem hesitant about how to acknowledge and thank their audience. Four people taking their cue from one, bowing together, and deciding whether to take a second bow; it’s not rocket science but it’s also messed up from time to time. These four knew what they were doing.
After intermission, they played the Debussy quartet from the same year—1893. It was pleasant and very different in terms of style. My notes for the fourth movement sort of summarize my feelings about the entire work. It was charming, in a slightly dark way, and it perked up, energetically and dramatically, in an interesting but not really compelling way. It’s not that it was bad; it’s just that it paled when paired with the Dvorak quartet. As always, your mileage may vary.
All but one of the composers were new to me. I enjoyed the opening piece, the fourth movement of Jérôme Savari’s Quatuor pour saxophones – Allegro moderato (1861 or 1862). It was jaunty and, oddly, slightly jazzy, though that could have been the newness of hearing four saxophones all at once. The second piece, by Gabriel Pierné (the only composer I recognized) was Introduction et variations sur une ronde populaire (1934). It was slightly dark and somber. The variations began with a sprightly phrase and then were varied in tempo—slow/fast/slow and lilting/faster/really fast, and included modern harmonies that were not too jarring. Nuages (literally, clouds, in French) put me in the mood of a swirling snowstorm. The other multi-movement works didn’t quite do it for me.
The final work, Cache-cache (roughly translated as ‘Hide and Seek’ and written in 1930) was a fun, playful piece, and a very good way to end the concert.
On, now, to 1893.
The New York Classical Players – New Worlds; Dvorak and Debussy String Quartets.
Well, sort of. As it turned out, the program was:
Sonata for Violin and Cello (1922) – (dedicated to Claude Debussy) – Maurice Ravel (1835–1937)
String Quartet in F Major, Op. 96 No. 12, “American” (1893) – Antonin Dvorak (1841–1904)
String Quartet in G minor, Op.10 (1893) – Claude Debussy (1862–1918)
Why in the world Ravel dedicated a work to a dead man is beyond me, but c’est la vie. “La vie.” (Always go for the cheap laugh, taught Mikey.)
There were four movements of the Ravel. The second was my favorite. There were pizzicato sections for both violin and cello, then a very dramatic section followed by a very lyrical section. The entire work was good. But that second movement was my favorite.
The Dvorak quartet was a joy. The first movement had a lovely motif to open with—very tonal and lightly joyful and lush, at times. It was charming and captivating. The second movement was a gently rocking accompaniment to a solo violin line. The solo violin line was then thrown to the cello in an absolutely lovely and poignant way. The third movement brought back one of the themes from the first movement but expanded on it—a perfect blend of charm, poignancy, drama, and fun. The final movement was almost, but not quite, off to the races. It was energetic and effervescent, even though there were contrasting slower sections. But it finished with energy and charm.
As a plus, these four performers knew how to take a bow—often, performers seem hesitant about how to acknowledge and thank their audience. Four people taking their cue from one, bowing together, and deciding whether to take a second bow; it’s not rocket science but it’s also messed up from time to time. These four knew what they were doing.
After intermission, they played the Debussy quartet from the same year—1893. It was pleasant and very different in terms of style. My notes for the fourth movement sort of summarize my feelings about the entire work. It was charming, in a slightly dark way, and it perked up, energetically and dramatically, in an interesting but not really compelling way. It’s not that it was bad; it’s just that it paled when paired with the Dvorak quartet. As always, your mileage may vary.
Sunday, January 26, 2020
An Afternoon of Opera and Song—Sort of (1/18/20)
Manhattan Opera Association
There were five vocalists: Soprano; Mezzo-soprano; Contralto; Tenor; and Bass-baritone; plus Eric Sedgwick, pianist
My favorite of the afternoon was the pianist, and that says a lot. I will not list all of the pieces I heard in the first half of the concert but they were mostly unsuccessful to my ear, though there were “brava”s and “bravi”s from the audience. Sort of what you call papering the house. Asked and answered here: Bravo for a man, brava for a woman, and bravi for two or more people.
Offenbach’s Barcarolle (a lovely piece) from Tales of Hoffman opened the concert. It was not lovely. Two selections from Mozart’s Don Giovanni followed. One was really OK. One was not. Full disclosure, I’m not a huge Mozart fan and I’m not a huge opera fan. When amateur opera is on tap, I should have been (and was) prepared to bail. I did, after intermission.
I am a former vocalist. My pipes are not what they used to be. I would not attempt to perform works like these in public at my age unless I had very, very good feedback that my performances would be OK. I believe that two of these five were either convinced that they were still in the groove of their glory days or were being misled somehow. One was just squeaking through. (All of this is my opinion only.)
After hearing eight selections in the first half, including a disappointing The Sound of Music, I was convinced that I didn’t need to hear the eight in the second half.
At this particular venue, there is another amateur opera company that I have avoided after a couple of non-enjoyable programs. This company now joins that one, for me; your mileage may vary. If you enjoy all things opera, no matter what, this may fit your bill.
I’ll not be back.
ConcertMeister
There were five vocalists: Soprano; Mezzo-soprano; Contralto; Tenor; and Bass-baritone; plus Eric Sedgwick, pianist
My favorite of the afternoon was the pianist, and that says a lot. I will not list all of the pieces I heard in the first half of the concert but they were mostly unsuccessful to my ear, though there were “brava”s and “bravi”s from the audience. Sort of what you call papering the house. Asked and answered here: Bravo for a man, brava for a woman, and bravi for two or more people.
Offenbach’s Barcarolle (a lovely piece) from Tales of Hoffman opened the concert. It was not lovely. Two selections from Mozart’s Don Giovanni followed. One was really OK. One was not. Full disclosure, I’m not a huge Mozart fan and I’m not a huge opera fan. When amateur opera is on tap, I should have been (and was) prepared to bail. I did, after intermission.
I am a former vocalist. My pipes are not what they used to be. I would not attempt to perform works like these in public at my age unless I had very, very good feedback that my performances would be OK. I believe that two of these five were either convinced that they were still in the groove of their glory days or were being misled somehow. One was just squeaking through. (All of this is my opinion only.)
After hearing eight selections in the first half, including a disappointing The Sound of Music, I was convinced that I didn’t need to hear the eight in the second half.
At this particular venue, there is another amateur opera company that I have avoided after a couple of non-enjoyable programs. This company now joins that one, for me; your mileage may vary. If you enjoy all things opera, no matter what, this may fit your bill.
I’ll not be back.
ConcertMeister
Friday, January 17, 2020
Midday Masterpieces (1/8/2020)
Sorry, WQXR did not provide names of the Kila Quartet performers and my quick online search does not match what I saw onstage. That said, the quartet comported themselves very well—often, onstage bows are awkward; these were not.
Where do the years go? 2020.
String Quartet No. 19 in C Major (“Dissonance”) K. 465 – W. A. Mozart
String Quartet No. 3 – Bela Bartok
Oddly, when the quartet set up for the Mozart, they were not in ‘usual’ formation. From the house (left to right) we had violin, violin, viola, cello. More on that later.
The ‘Dissonance’ was a bit of a misnomer. Yes, the beginning of the piece had slow, rising and falling lines, creating dissonance (but in an enjoyable way). Then it turned into a regular, bubbly Mozart string quartet. The first movement, after the strange opening, was bubbly and very lengthy, leading to a quiet ending. The second movement was slow and slightly stately, though not somber. It picked up in energy, just barely. The third seemed to be a scherzo (which means joke). It was perky, with interruptions of louder and fuller phrases. The final movement was also fairly brisk and had interruptions that seemed a little more serious.
When setting up for the one-movement Bartok piece, the first and second violinists switched places. This is fairly common in quartets. In this case, though, the violist and cellist also switched places, giving a more standard quartet placement on stage. Why? I do not know.
As announced from the stage, this is/was the shortest of the six string quartets Bartok wrote. Interestingly, all four players re-tuned—I’m thinking maybe Bartok had specific tuning in mind? This is merely speculation on my part.
The piece was mysterious, with modern sounds, and dissonance (for real, this time).
Overall, I appreciate the difficulty and different techniques. I can’t say, however, that I really enjoyed it. I’m learning a lot here.
ConcertMeister
Where do the years go? 2020.
String Quartet No. 19 in C Major (“Dissonance”) K. 465 – W. A. Mozart
String Quartet No. 3 – Bela Bartok
Oddly, when the quartet set up for the Mozart, they were not in ‘usual’ formation. From the house (left to right) we had violin, violin, viola, cello. More on that later.
The ‘Dissonance’ was a bit of a misnomer. Yes, the beginning of the piece had slow, rising and falling lines, creating dissonance (but in an enjoyable way). Then it turned into a regular, bubbly Mozart string quartet. The first movement, after the strange opening, was bubbly and very lengthy, leading to a quiet ending. The second movement was slow and slightly stately, though not somber. It picked up in energy, just barely. The third seemed to be a scherzo (which means joke). It was perky, with interruptions of louder and fuller phrases. The final movement was also fairly brisk and had interruptions that seemed a little more serious.
When setting up for the one-movement Bartok piece, the first and second violinists switched places. This is fairly common in quartets. In this case, though, the violist and cellist also switched places, giving a more standard quartet placement on stage. Why? I do not know.
As announced from the stage, this is/was the shortest of the six string quartets Bartok wrote. Interestingly, all four players re-tuned—I’m thinking maybe Bartok had specific tuning in mind? This is merely speculation on my part.
The piece was mysterious, with modern sounds, and dissonance (for real, this time).
Overall, I appreciate the difficulty and different techniques. I can’t say, however, that I really enjoyed it. I’m learning a lot here.
ConcertMeister
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