Oberon's Grove

Giacinto Prandelli

Giancinto Prandelli - ADRIANA LECOUVREUR - aria + duet w Carla Gavazzi

 

Valentine's Day Concert: NY Philharmonic Ensembles

Above: cellist Eileen Moon of The New York Philharmonic

Sunday February 14th, 2016 - Spending Valentine's Day afternoon at Merkin Hall, where players from The New York Philharmonic took the stage for a program of chamber works. A blast of Arctic-cold air didn't deter music lovers from trekking to this wonderfully intimate concert venue on West 67th Street. We were rewarded with a nicely varied program and five-star playing.

For her Piano Quintet, composed in 2010, Ellen Taafe Zwilich drew inspiration Franz Schubert's famous Trout Quintet. Zwilich's quintet uses the same combination of instruments as Schubert's, and she gives a special nod to the double bass - today played by the phenomenal Timothy Cobb.

It's always nice to have a choreographer as a concert-going companion: choreographers think of music differently that we mere fans do, and so today it was fun comparing notes with my friend Claudia Schreier who managed to squeeze this concert in amidst her preparations for a bunch of upcoming commissions. Claudia and I both loved the first movement of the Zwilich: I could see that she was envisioning steps and structures as the music surged forward. 

Zwilich sends her quintet spinning out to us with a simply gorgeous opening theme. Throughout the first movement there is a wonderful variety of things happening, both rhythmically and thematically. The double bass adds a jazzy flair, whilst at the piano Hélène Jeanney's colorful, zesty playing kept the momentum keenly alert. Violinist Hae-Young Ham, violist Peter Kenote, and cellist Qiang Tu were as fun to watch as to hear as they switched from plucking to bowing and back again. A richly melodic unison theme was particularly pleasing to hear, and the tonal glow of Mr. Kenote's viola fell most agreeably on the ear.

In the second movement, things go very jazzy indeed - and for a while it's entirely enjoyable. Qiang Tu and Timothy Cobb dig in with richness of sound and a sure feel for the style. Meanwhile the violin and viola get to sing the blues, very seductively I might add. At the Steinway, Ms. Jeanney also found this jazziness very congenial. Together the ensemble created an after-hours atmosphere.

But for me, a little jazz goes a long way; during the third movement, with its abundant and lively unison passages, I began to feel my interest waning a bit, despite the excellence of the playing. The composer was not present today, though I believe the roses that were handed out to each of the participating players came from her. What a sweet gesture!

Much more to my liking overall was the performance of the Shostakovich String Quartet #14 in F-major that followed. The composer began working on this quartet in the middle of 1972 while he was at Aldeburgh, visiting his friend and fellow composer Benjamin Britten. It was to take Shostakovich several months to complete this the quartet; he finished it on April 23rd, 1973 in Moscow.

The 14th is the last of the "Quartet of Quartets" which Shostakovich had begun with his 11th string quartet. Each of these had been dedicated to one of the original members of the Beethoven String Quartet, an emsemble that was to première all of Shostakovich's string quartets except the first and last. The 14th was dedicated to its cellist Sergei Petrovich Shirinsky (1903-1974) and the cello takes a prominent role in this music.

In today's performance, the Philharmonic's Eileen Moon made a sublime impression with her performance of the cello part. Her playing went straight to the heart, so poetic in tone and so completely in command of every technical and interpretive demand the composer placed on her.

Ms. Moon's playing moved me deeply, and was at the soul of today's very rewarding performance of the quartet; for her colleagues - Fiona Simon and Sharon Yamada, violins, and Robert Rhinehart, viola - matched Ms. Moon's intensity and expressiveness at every turn of phrase. Shostakovch's writing here is very spare, with lots of solo opportunities for each voice. The music has a rather Mahlerian quality at times.

The outer movements abound in thematic gems, with quirky mixings of timbres and passing hints of wit. But it is the central slow movement that transported me to another world today. Fiona Simon opens this adagio with a desolate solo violin theme; she played with marvelous control and feeling. Mr. Rhinehart's cello later takes up this same solo line with equal distinction. Ms. Yamada's interjections bring an added hue to the sonic canvas, and the lustrous sounds welling up from Ms. Moon's cello literally cast a spell over the proceedings. I wanted this rapture to go on and on.

But the concluding Allegretto takes over and the four players pass the melody about from one to another; it's all over much too soon.

Above: The New York Philharmonic's Richard Deane; Mr. Deane was the central player in this afternoon's concluding work, the Brahms Horn Trio

My friend Claudia should have left at the interval for another commitment, but the music-making and the cozy atmosphere at Merkin kept her on to the end of the concert...and what a nice treat it was to hear such a heartfelt performance of the Brahms on this Valentine's Day.

As a long-ago wannabe horn player, I am thoroughly aware of the joys and attendant caveats of playing this very demanding instrument. If I could have produced a sound even approximating that which Mr. Deane produced today, I might have stuck with it. 

For Mr. Deane, with his robust tone, awe-inspiring breath control, and ability to make the horn do what he wants it to do, gave me a great deal of pleasurable listening. In the Autumnal passages of the work - in the central section of the Scherzo and in the Andante mesto - Mr. Deane's rich, passionate playing gave me chills of delight, and his spirited 'hunting horn' motifs in the concluding Allegro con brio were so admirably vibrant. 

Matching the hornist in both skill and spirit, the lovely violinist Hyunju Lee (in a knock-out black-on-white frock) and the excellent pianist William Wolfram were oh-so-much-more than simply supporting artists for Mr. Deane: together the three produced a lovingly integrated sound and sent us out into the frigid twilight, fortified by the warmth of their playing and with our spirits elevated.

The only blot on the afternoon was that some thoughtless person brought a baby, who kept whimpering at all the wrong moments. So inconsiderate. But we won't dwell on that. At least, not today.

Today's Repertory and Artists:

Ellen Taaffe Zwilich: Piano Quintet Hae-Young Ham, violin; Peter Kenote, viola; Qiang Tu, cello; Timothy Cobb, bass; Hélène Jeanney*, piano                                            

Shostakovich: String Quartet No. 14 Fiona Simon, Sharon Yamada, violins; Robert Rinehart, viola; Eileen Moon, cello

Brahms: Horn Trio Hyunju Lee, violin; Richard Deane, horn; William Wolfram, piano

Score Desk for TROVATORE

Above: baritone Juan Jesús Rodríguez

Saturday February 13th, 2016 matinee - I hadn't originally planned on attending a second TROVATORE at The Met this season; the performance I saw in September 2015 was quite exciting and marked a heroic appearance by Dmitri Hvorostovsky, who flew over from London where he was under treatment for a brain tumor to honor, at least in part, his Met contract. And what a performance he gave!

Hvorostovsky would have been the Count di Luna again this afternoon had all gone according to plan, but a need to extend medical treatment has caused him to forego some recent engagements. He is due at Carnegie Hall on February 17th for a recital, for which we have long held tickets.

My soprano-friend Lisette Oropesa has recently been in Madrid singing the role of Gilda at the Teatro Real; for one of these performances, her Rigoletto was Juan Jesús Rodríguez. When it was announced that Mr. Rodríguez would be replacing Mr. Hvorostovsky in this run of TROVATORE, I asked Lisette if he was someone I should hear. She was enthusiastic in her affirmative reply, so I bought a score desk and settled in to see how things would go.

Marco Amiliato was on his best Verdi behavior this afternoon; he did a great job supporting the singers, which is what opera conducting is all about. In the opening scene, Kwangchul Youn's vibrato seemed very pronounced at first but it steadied out considerably after a few phrases. The voice is extremely powerful and gives the illusion that he is standing right next to you as he sings.

Angela Meade started nicely as Leonora, but all too soon the flutter begins to intrude. Notes around F and G are especially flutterful, clouding up the line of the music. She did a bizarre high-pianissimo interpolation in the cadenza of "Tacea la notte" and made it by the skin of her teeth. She is now pushing her lower voice for dramatic effect, and the top - in addition to fluttering - is starting to sound squally. The concluding D-flat of the Act I trio was a bit desperate. Her phrases bidding farewell to Inez at the convent were nicely shaped, but she was rather sketchy in the scene's concluding ensemble, where the soprano should dominate.

Dolora Zajick, at age 63, remains the Azucena of our time. She provided the thrills and chills that make for a great operatic experience, her singing having everything this music needs: powerful, thrusting top notes, deep-maroon low tones, and passages of wondrous subtlety and control. Curiously, her compelling singing and vocal acting in the great monologue "Condotta ell' era in ceppi" drew only polite applause. Hopefully at the end of the opera she got then ovation she so richly deserved.

Marcello Giordani seemed at his current best today. Despite husky lower notes, he steered clear of the casual sloppiness that sometimes mars his singing. Up to the (single) intermission, he was better than good, recalling some of his performances from a few years back when he seemed so much more confident vocally.

Carolyn Sproule's rather earthy vibrato didn't strike me as right for Inez, but baritone Edward Albert actually made something out of his one-line role as A Gypsy; his voice carries very well in the House.

As to Señor Rodriguez, I found myself in full agreement with Ms. Oropesa's as to his vocal gifts. It's a sizable sound, with darkish undertones and a pleasingly lyrical approach to the trademark Verdi line. He sings with fine feeling, modulating the dynamics impressively, and is always verbally alert. A stentorian interpolated top note on "Leonora è mia!" preceded his genuinely lovely and expressive singing of "Il balen", one of the most appealing renditions of that familiar aria I have heard in recent years.

I gave serious consideration to staying on thru the end of the opera, but the prospect of a long intermission and of Meade's Act IV scena sent me out into the frigid afternoon only seventy minutes after the opera had started.

Bychkov's Mahler 6th @ The NY Philharmonic

Thursday February 11th, 2016 - Semyon Bychkov (above, in a Sheila Rock photo) at the helm of a lustrous and thrilling performance of the Mahler 6th at The New York Philharmonic.

This symphony was premiered at Essen on May 27th, 1906; Gustav Mahler had assigned it the subtitle 'Tragic', and surely feelings of doom or impending catastrophe loom up in the course of the piece. But to me - hearing the symphony live for the first time - the music abounds in hopeful, uplifting themes; perhaps the composer was offering these as consolation for life's tragedies. The great conductor Bruno Walter stated: “The Sixth is bleakly pessimistic: it reeks of the bitter cup of human life." But that's not at all my feeling about this music, at least not until the final movement.

The last movement of this symphony has been called Mahler's greatest single movement, but I can't agree with that: to me it seemed over-long, and packed with too many ideas. The hammer-blows of fate are powerful, but are they really disturbing or shocking in this day and age? This symphony may have seemed 'tragic' in the early 20th century, but since then such enormous human tragedies as the Holocaust, Hiroshima, and 9/11 have perhaps altered the way we think of tragedy: less on a personal level, and more in a history-altering way. 

I feel certain I will receive e-mails telling me that I don't "understand" The Mahler 6th. And perhaps I don't. But I know how I felt listening to it.

Between the great, soaring "Alma" theme (honoring his wife) of the first movement (named for the composer's wife) and the sublime beauty of the Andante, much of the music in this symphony elicits feelings of hope and life-affirmation. That these passages are often tinged by poignant hues of regret makes it all the more human. The first movement ends quite suddenly.

Of the Scherzo, Alma Mahler wrote that it depicted two children playing on a beach: “Ominously, the childish voices become more and more tragic, and at the end die out in a whimper.” The music is bittersweet, to be sure. In the Andante that follows, a lullaby-like quality pervades, with a rich outpouring of emotion at the end.

The finale opens eerily, in a slow tempo. The music turns restless, with a sense of vigorous questing; but the hammer blows signal a defeat of hope, and a descent into gloom. Yet for me, I could only fold my feelings back to symphony's earlier passages of passion and tenderness; I left the hall feeling exultant rather than resigned. 

Maestro Bychkov marshaled the symphony's huge forces (four harps! three celestes!) to sublime effect in a thrilling performance; players and audience were thoroughly engaged, and communed in a spirit which amplified my feeling that great music can save humanity, if we will only listen.

It's always exciting to see the Philharmonic players filling the entire space of the Geffen Hall stage, and it's even better to hear them! This symphony offers passage after passage of melodic opportunity for the musicians, and all these moments glowed with the characteristic clarity and expressiveness these artists bring to every concert. I was especially moved by Liang Wang's numerous oboe solos tonight; his plaintive tone speaks directly to the soul.

A grand night, then for both orchestra and conductor. Next season we will be fortunate to have Maestro Bychkov with us for a NY Philharmonic Tchaikovsky Festival. This will include three Tchaikovsky symphonies, two piano concerti, FRANCESCA DA RIMINI, and complimentary works by Glinka and Taneyev. I can't wait!

The final movement, an Allegro moderato leading to an Allegro energico, is huge – like a symphony within a symphony. It has a retrospective quality, as if the hero were recalling life’s past events and their collisions with the forces of Fate. A final brass chorale suggests the hero’s courageous engagement with life, but in the end, it is Fate that prevails.

- See more at: http://www.utahsymphony.org/insight/program-notes/1183-mahler-symphony-no-6-in-a-minor-tragic#sthash.9yvGvxhz.dpuf

Graham Deconstructed: PANORAMA

Above: dance students from Montclair State University performing Martha Graham's PANORAMA; photo by Robert Cooper

Wednesday Ferbruary 10th, 2016 - Martha Graham Dance Company continuing their wonderfully informative series Graham Deconstructed at the Company's home space at 55 Bethune Street in the West Village.

This evening, author Elizabeth McPherson and the Martha Graham Dance Company's Artistic Director Janet Eilber discussed the creation of PANORAMA, which Martha Graham made on students at the Bennington School of the Dance in Bennington, Vermont, in 1935. This was followed by a full performance of the work by dancers from Montclair State University.

PANORAMA is set to a score by Norman Lloyd and is a ballet in three parts: Theme of Dedication, Imperial Theme, and Popular Theme. The original set was created by Arch Lauterer and it included mobiles designed by Alexander Calder. PANORAMA premiered at Bennington on August 14, 1935.

As the audience settled in tonight, ghostly black-and-white film clips of parts of PANORAMA from that Bennington summer were being shown, along with some source diagrams outlining the placement of the dancers, the patterns they would form, and the sequence of steps.

After the summer of its creation, Martha Graham seems never to have returned to PANORAMA. But in 1992, drawing on the very black-and-white films we were watching, Yuriko was able to re-construct parts of the ballet. From its original 40-minute length, Yuriko's 12-minute distillation comes down to us today as a triumphant dance treasure.

Janet Eilber called upon Lone Kjaer Larsen, who staged the current incarnation of PANORAMA, to set the evening in motion with a presentation of the ballet's opening passage. The Montclair dancers, a beautifully diverse ensemble, came proudly into the space. Cued by Ms. Larsen, the young women in practice clothes counted the steps aloud without music as the phalanxes met, meshed, and marched about the stage in richly-structured patterns.  

Dr. Elizabeth McPherson then elaborated on the creative process which produced PANORAMA some 80 years ago. Her exhaustive research into the 'Bennington era' un-earthed first-hand accounts from some of the people involved in bringing PANORAMA to life; the story forms only part of Dr. McPherson's book on the Bennington years, available here.

Janet Eilber then summoned forth five young dancers, still in practice clothes, to demonstrate the opening of PANORAMA's second movement, an adagio in which the girls strike sculptural poses. They were remarkably confident, and they had each found the far-seeing gaze and paradoxically neutral yet somehow passionate facial expression so essential to the presentation of these ritualistic Graham works. 

The evening concluded with a full performance of PANORAMA performed by the Montclair students, now all clad in vivid red. The power of a female army holds sway in the opening movement; stylized marching with an urgency of purpose fills the space, and semaphoric gestures communicate a militant self-awareness. When they all form a big traveling circle, the effect is breath-taking. 

The five adagio women exuded an air of poetic confidence. In the finale, groups of dancers fly across the space in signature Graham leaps, with angular port de bras and a real sense of purpose. A prancing coda ensues, and then a striking passage of pose-gesture-leap leads PANORAMA to its impressive close as the girls rush offstage, seemingly to continue their rituals in another corner of the universe. 

The evening left me re-vitalized; what struck me most of all was how immediate and vital this work felt. Though 80 years old, it has a resonance and a connection to our humanity that seems to elude most of today's choreographic efforts. I was reminded of something Miki Orihara once said: "In exploring its past, we will find the future of dance."

Masses of roses for all the young dancers tonight, and a deep révérence to Ms. Eilber, to Tadej Brdnik, and to Ms. Larsen (who was seated next to me) for keeping the Graham flame burning brightly as the world around us seems to grow ever darker from one day to the next.

Julia Migenes

Julia Migenes - Czardas - FLEDERMAUS - Vienna State Opera Gala 1986

 

Miró Quartet: Beethoven @ Chamber Music Society

Above, the players of the Miró Quartet: Joshua Gindele, Daniel Ching, William Fedkenheuer, and John Largess

Friday February 5th, 2016 - Chamber Music Society of Lincoln Center are in the midst of a festival of Beethoven string quartets, being performed in six programs and played by five different ensembles. I'm only able to attend two of the six performances; tonight was the first of these, with the Miró Quartet playing the three "Razumovsky" quartets, opus 59. The works carry the name of the man who commissioned them in 1806: Count Andreas Razumovsky, then the Russian ambassador to Vienna.

Early performances of these quartets drew a mixed response; in 1807, one critic wrote: "Three new, very long and difficult Beethoven string quartets…are attracting the attention of all connoisseurs. The conception is profound and the construction excellent, but they are not easily comprehended."

As with so many masterworks (whether in music, art, literature, or dance) that were misunderstood or under-valued when they first manifested themselves, the "Razumovsky" quartets have become cherished favorites of audiences and players alike. This quote in the Playbill from the Miró Quartet's superb violist John Largess really moved me: "Truly, this is music written by one to inspire all - despite sufferings and setbacks - to great deeds: to be true to your individual self and to the promise within."

Alice Tully Hall was packed to the rafters tonight; added rows of seating had been installed, and as the audience quietly filed in, I experienced the uncanny feeling of being in church. When the four handsome musicians took their places, a sense of anticipation welled up. The next two hours were simply transportive.

I have to admit, I've never been a great devotee of Beethoven. But in recent years, I have found his music increasingly pleasing and - moreover - meaningful. Tonight, in particular, the first of the three "Razumovsky" quartets evoked such a profound emotional response from me, partly from the music itself but also - I think even more so - from the playing of it.

The players of the Miró have the kind of gorgeously integrated sound that musicians who have played together for years can achieve, yet throughout the concert their individual voices also spoke clearly and poetically. Each produces a sound of immediate appeal; in blending, their unusually evocative dynamic acuity and their telepathic sense of one another makes for a spellbinding experience.

Joshua Gindele's deep-violet cello sound launched the evening, the theme taken up by Daniel Ching's violin: Mr. Ching has the enviable gift of sustaining sweetness of tone in the highest register. William Fedkenheuer's violin (all evening) entwined so superbly with the other voices, whilst the dusty-rose contralto of John Largess's viola stood out even in the densest passages. 

By the time the Adagio of the first quartet was reached, I felt I was in another world. The playing was so poignant: every note meant something, each voice reaching deeper and deeper into the realm of the spiritual. The stress and the feelings of hopelessness which can come to fill our daily lives was washed clean by the pure beauty of what we were hearing. This is the power of great music, played by great musicians. 

A spectacular, sustained trill from Mr. Ching marked the transition to the climactic Thème russe where the striking virtuosity of each player combined in a whirlwind of musical magic. By this point, I was feeling elated. Strangely - and this has sometimes happened to be before at dance, operatic, or symphonic performances - part of me wanted to leave and carry this perfect performance away with me.

But good sense prevailed, and after the interval, the same remarkably high level of musicianship was maintained. The first movement of the second (E-minor) quartet was filled with subtle nuance; the opening of the ensuing Adagio molto had a paradoxical mixture of calm and passion, and this led to some exquisitely expressive playing from Mr. Ching. In an odd moment of musical déjà vu, a passionate downward rush of notes gave me momentary pause: where have I heard this before? Ah, the Suicidio from LA GIOCONDA...might Ponchielli have done a bit of borrowing?

No time to ponder that, as the music moved onward; a last downhill progression is passed from violin to violin2 to viola, to cello as the movement comes to an end. A dance-like Allegretto is next, and Beethoven keeps us dancing with sprightly vigor for the concluding Presto. Again, Mr. Ching dazzles us. And suddenly, what had seemed rather stately in its swiftness swings into double-time for a terrific finish.

For the third quartet, I stopped taking notes. What more could be said anyway? I wanted to just let the music happen. And so, as it progressed, I found myself thoroughly immersed in both the technical and emotive qualities of the playing. I was feeling so very thankful to have been there to experience these four wonderful artists performing in a state of grace. You can't ask more of music, or of musicians. As Mr. Largess reeled of the high-speed opening passage of the final Allegro molto, all was light and reassurance.

The concerts presented by Chamber Music Society continue to inspire and to provide a tonic for the weary soul. After a concert like this evening's, I feel certain we don't need drugs, drink, or religion; we just need great music.

I was touched by the dedicatory paragraph in tonight's Playbill:

"It is with love and a profound sense of gratitude that we dedicate The Beethoven Cycle to the memory of our extraordinary friend Jane Kitselman."  How I wish I could have met this patroness of the arts: I feel certain we are kindred spirits. 

On a final note, another quote from John Largess's program note:

"Reportedly, at the first performance of the Quartet in F-minor, Beethoven's audience laughed and was convinced that he was playing a trick on them..."Surely you do not consider this music?" asked one bemused listener. "Not for you," replied the confident composer, "but for a later age."

That age is now.

Lotte Lehmann

Lotte Lehmann - Euch lüften - LOHENGRIN

 

Cellist Edgar Moreau @ YCA

Above: Edgar Moreau, photographed by Julien Mignot

Tuesday February 2nd, 2016 - Young Concert Artists presenting the New York recital debut of French cellist Edgar Moreau, with Jessica Xylina Osborne, pianist, at Merkin Hall.

Greeting us this evening, Young Concert Artists founder and director Susan Wadsworth spoke of a performance she had attended had at the Verbier Festival where Edgar Moreau was performing in a chamber music concert. Susan was so impressed by the young cellist that she invited him to participate in YCA's audition process; Mr. Moreau agreed, and he won first prize. And voilà!...he's onstage at Merkin Hall, to the delight of a large and enthusiastic crowd.

Mr. Moreau is a handsome and charismatic fellow, which is all to the good, but none of that would matter if he didn't have the technique, artistry, and passion to set himself apart from other attractive young musicians. Tonight, in a demanding program, he established his credentials as a player of remarkable caliber. His intriguing presence, marvelously messy hair, and expressive face - a far-seeking gaze, a hint of a smile, an ever-so-slight trace of madness - were all reflections of the inner poet. There's something wonderfully Olde World about Edgar Moreau, like a re-incarnation of someone who might have made music with Schubert, or been friends with Chopin. He plays a 1711 David Tecchler cello. A brief sample of Edgar's playing here.     

Opening with Johann Sebastian Bach's Sonata No. 3 in G minor, BWV 1029, Mr. Moreau immediately began to display his musical flair and his distinctive persona. Serious and impassioned, he seems to live the music. The young cellist was most fortunate tonight to have as his musical accomplice the excellent pianist Jessica Xylina Osborne. Together they played the Bach sonata's opening Vivace at a very swift pace - exhilarating! - and then moved on to a deeply felt Adagio in which Mr. Moreau's incredibly beautiful tone spoke directly to the heart and soul. For the concluding Allegro, I simply write "Wow!" on my playbill: the evening was off to a grand start.

César Franck's Sonata in A major began life as a violin sonata, or at least that's how it was first publicly performed. The familiar themes take on a darker hue (and perhaps an even more poignant expressiveness) when played on a cello. In this sonata, brimming with melodic inspiration, Mr. Moreau demonstrated a sublime mastery of the gradations of vibrato, with an astute measuring of the music's lyricism. The resonance of his playing was spine-tingling, and Ms. Osborne brought wonderfully nuanced pianism into the mix. The two musicians seemed to inspire one another constantly, and their rapport was telepathically keen. The sonata's "false ending" produced a charmingly mis-timed volley of applause, but the intrepid artists were able to immediately re-establish the atmosphere and carry on to the actual end, where the audience could at last unleash their applause and shouts of "bravo!"  The Moreau-Osborne duo is truly simpatico.

Above: pianist Jessica Xylina Osborne

Alfred Schnittke's Sonata No. 1 for cello and piano dates from 1978; this was my second live experience of this complex and very rewarding piece.

It opens with the cello alone, soon joined by the piano in a misterioso mood. A slithering, scurrying passage played deftly by Mr. Moreau evokes thoughts of Klytemnestra's murder in Strauss's ELEKTRA. The piano get emphatic, and the two instruments set forth on a rumbling race. A jazzy bit of agitato leads to a relentlessly driven passage: things go rather dotty, and then wild. A big crash! Then Ms. Osborne ripples up the keyboard. Passion soars, almost to the point of insanity, only to suddenly go quiet. Dense emotion from the cellist - like a prayer, deeply sorrowful and full of yearning.

The mood is broken by some jazzed-up plucking, but then the cello plunges to the darkest depths. Here Mr. Moreau astounded me with a prolonged one-handed pianissimo on the lowest string of his cello - it seemed eternal - whilst Ms. Osborne played dreamily. A delicate plucked coda, then the cello sustains in the low register as the piano drifts into a stratospheric fade-out. Magical!

The Schnittke, which held the audience in a rapt silence throughout, showed the two artists at their absolute finest - high praise - and drew admiring waves of applause as the musicians took their bows. 

The evening's concluding work, Chopin's Introduction and Polonaise Brilliante, Op. 3 represents the only instrument other than piano for which the composer wrote anything of consequence. Tonight the composer's melodious purity and - later - a sense of stately joy were set forth with ample radiance by Mr. Moreau and Ms. Osborne. The pianist gets quite rhapsodic before the two burst into the ‘alla polacca’ where cello and piano take turns playing rhythm and melody.

A warm and wonderfully sincere standing ovation greeted the artists, and an encore was most welcome: a splendid czardas where Mr. Moreau dug into the gypsy passions of the opening slow theme before he and Ms. Osborne set off virtuosic fireworks in a delicious romp. The audience could not wait for the final note to be sounded before unleashing a gale of applause and cheers.

Curtis Symphony Orchestra @ Carnegie Hall

Above: conductor Ludovic Morlot

Monday February 1st, 2016 - In surveys, music-lovers are often asked: "How did you hear about tonight's concert?" This evening's performance by The Curtis Symphony at Carnegie Hall came to my attention thanks to a postcard received in the mail; otherwise I'd never have known about it until it was too late. Two rather rare and unusual items on the program - by Busoni and Berio respectively - were a major inducement to attend, as was the opportunity to hear Mahler's 1st and to re-encounter conductor Ludovic Morlot. The offer of $25 seats (anywhere in the Hall) made the concert all the more attractive. 

The young musicians of the Curtis Symphony are an attractive lot, and their sincere and passionate playing - observed from the fifth row - gave the evening a good impetus. We were so close to the violinists and I so enjoyed watching their technical agility and the vigor of their bowing in the more feverish moments. Individual personalities always managed to shine thru. 

Ferruccio Busoni's Berceuse élégiaque was the opening work: a gorgeous if slightly ominous lullaby. Originally a solo piano work, Busoni orchestrated it in a sort of homage to his late mother. This evening, Conner Gray Covington - a conducting Fellow at Curtis) took the podium for this work and developed a dreamy, mysterious atmosphere. Celeste and harp are among the gentle voices heard in this evocative relatively brief piece, which fades away on the post-echo of a gong being struck.

Whether by plan or coincidence, the Luciano Berio Sinfonia which followed soon after begins with a muted gong. This work was commissioned by The New York Philharmonic on the occasion of their 125th anniversary. In addition to a large orchestra, the Sinfonia calls for eight singers who sing, declaim, whisper, or shout throughout much of the 1/2 hour-long piece. The singers were seated among the musicians; they wore head mics, and amplifiers were positioned at the lip of the stage. Still, the voices were often absorbed by the orchestra.

Conductor Ludovic Morlot marshaled the Curtis forces for a performance full of fascinating textures and liberally larded with references to other works and composers: a fleeting sonic glimpse of the Baron Ochs's "Mit mir...mit mir!" from ROSENKAVALIER made me laugh aloud. Both the singers and the players seemed wonderfully alert to each twist, turn, and nuance of the tricky and demanding score - special kudos to the pianist and percussionists - and the audience were clearly intrigued by what they were hearing. But then, as silence fell at the end, a cellphone went off at the worst possible moment. Undeterred, the crowd liberally applauded the work and its performance.

My overall impression of the Berio was certainly favorable - it's so quirky and unique - but I did feel it was a bit too long to sustain its originality.

After the interval, we were on familiar turf with Gustav Mahler's 1st symphony. Maestro Morlot's ardent affinity for this music was evident as he drew some exciting playing from the youthful players. There were random moments (very few) that didn't quite come off as one might have wished, but overall the level of playing was most impressive.

To me, this symphony is a slow-bloomer: it takes a while to ignite. But once it does, the flame is glowingly sustained: the second, third, and fourth movements are so thoroughly pleasing to experience, and I very much enjoyed observing the rapport between maestro and musicians tonight. 

The Performers:

• Curtis Symphony Orchestra
  Ludovic Morlot, Conductor
  Conner Gray Covington, Conductor
  Members of the Curtis Opera Theatre:
  Emily Pogorelc, soprano
  Alize Rozsnyai, soprano
  Anastasiia Sidorova, mezzo-soprano
  Kendra Broom, mezzo-soprano
  Jean-Michael Richer, tenor
  Evan LeRoy Johnson, tenor
  Dennis Chemlensky, baritone
  Johnathan McCullough, baritone

The Program:

• BUSONI Berceuse élégiaque
• BERIO Sinfonia
• MAHLER Symphony No. 1