Oberon's Grove

Easter Hymn

Easter Hymn - CAVALLERIA RUSTICANA - Ghena Dimitrova - Jean Kraft - Met bcast 1988

Petrenko|Bayerisches Staatsorchester @ Carnegie Hall

Above: Kirill Petrenko on the Carnegie Hall podium; photo by Chris Lee

~ Author: Ben Weaver

Wednesday March 28th, 2018 - Kirill Petrenko is finishing his term as the Generalmusikdirector of the Bavarian State Opera and in the 2019-20 season will take over as the chief conductor of the world’s most prestigious orchestra, Berlin Philharmonic. It is with the Bavarian State Opera forces (in the concert hall dubbed Bayerisches Staatsorchester) that Petrenko is making his Carnegie Hall debut this season. His only previous NYC appearances were at the Metropolitan Opera where he led a very memorable revival of Ariadne auf Naxos in 2005 and Khovanschina in 2012. For this Carnegie debut concert, Petrenko programmed two oft-forgotten works by two very famous composers: Johannes Brahms’ Double Concerto and Pyotr Tchaikovsky’s Manfred Symphony.

Brahms composed the Concerto for Violin, Cello and Orchestra, Op. 102, in 1887. It was his last orchestral composition and it was greeted coolly even by ardent supporters like Eduard Hanslick. Soon Brahms himself was dismissing it as “folly” in letters to Clara Schumann. Neglected for many years, it certainly deserves to be heard more often; it surrenders nothing to his famed violin concerto in inspiration, melody and excitement. The writing may not seem as virtuosic as the violin concerto perhaps because Brahms composed a truly double concerto. The two instruments don’t have the kind of virtuosic writing that concertos often do. The music is more of a dialogue for violin and cello - and orchestra, too. It takes a great deal of camaraderie between the two soloists and conductor to bring the pieces together. Maybe it’s the lack of true star turns for the soloists that keeps some musicians away. But when played as superbly as it was by Julia Fischer and Daniel Müller-Schott, with Maestro Petrenko on the podium, the results are breathtaking.

Above: Julia Fischer and Daniel Müller-Schott playing the Brahms Double Concerto, with Maestro Petrenko; a Chris Lee photo

The work begins with a dramatic and brief orchestral opening and immediately the cello launches into an extended solo. One of the few passages of this kind in the work, Müller-Schott immediately established himself as an artist. Rich and velvety notes poured from the instrument. Julia Fischer, a former child prodigy who has grown into a true artist of the violin, soon joined in for one of the concerto’s many extended conversations between the two instruments. Ms. Fischer’s sound is delicate and sweet, the notes rolling effortlessly from her bow. Fischer and Müller-Schott have collaborated many times over the years. Their discography together includes a lot of chamber music, as well as the Brahms concerto. Their musical partnership came across beautifully in the performance, whether playing in unison or handing off music back and forth, it’s the sort of relationship that takes time to develop. The hushed, pastoral-ish second movement was wondrous and the Bohemian inspired dances of the Finale were perfect. Maestro Petrenko and the superb Bayerisches Staatsorchester forces were excellent partners.

Ms. Fischer and Mr. Müller-Schott gave an encore: an extended virtuoso piece: Passacaglia by Johann Halvorsen. It was really great!

Above: Julia Fischer and Daniel Müller-Schott, photo by Chris Lee

Tchaikovsky’s largest orchestral work, the Manfred Symphony was composed in 1885, between his more famous 4th and 5th Symphonies. Inspired by Byron’s poem (Schumann composed a famous overture based on it as well), Tchaikovsky - already master of the large orchestral forces - outdid himself with sheer size of forces needed, including a harmonium (typically replaced by an organ in performances and recordings.) Initially Tchaikovsky considered it to be his finest composition, but after a mixed reception from critics and the public, in what was a common refrain of his life, turned on it and declared it awful; even considered destroying everything but the first movement. Fortunately his instinct to burn it did not come to pass because it is certainly one of his greatest works. And I often think it may be his greatest symphony.

What I find astonishing about the Manfred Symphony is the sheer amount of invention - melodic and orchestration. In some ways it reminds me of Verdi’s Falstaff. Some complain that Verdi’s last opera is lacking in melody, but it might actually contain more melodies than all of his other works combined. They simply fly by and disappear so quickly that one can fail to notice. That’s my view of Tchaikovsky’s Manfred. The melodies and brilliant orchestration can be so sudden, so novel and so brief that it’s all gone and moved on to something else entirely before you realize what you just heard. It is truly a work that demands repeated hearings.

The dark first movement depicts Manfred’s anguished wanderings in the Alps; “His life shattered…”, as the program note (by Mily Balakirev) describes. With halting phrases, Tchaikovsky depicts a peaceful pastoral one moment, Manfred’s pain the next. The explosive climax - one of Tchaikovsky’s most beautiful melodies - is hair-raising. I often hear it as a perfect musical accompaniment to the moment in Wuthering Heights where Heathcliff is found dead in Catherine’s room, thunder and lightning blaring outside. The two middle movements are, by contrast, blasts of light. The light fairy music of the Scherzo (in the program a fairy of the Alps appears to Manfred splashing in a waterfall) would have pleased Mendelssohn, I think. The slow third movement presents a portrait of a peaceful nature, something Beethoven would have recognized perhaps. And in the final movement, again a darkness descends. The music swirls and growls as Manfred visits the caves of Arimanes. And the anguished love theme from the first movement returns to signal Manfred’s death - greeted with an organ playing a hymn.

The forces of the Bayerisches Staatsorchester played the work superbly. Kirill Petrenko led an all-around thrilling performance, goading the players to play bigger and louder (I was reminded of the famous story of Richard Strauss rehearsing Elektra and yelling to the players: “Louder, louder! I can still hear Madam Schumann-Heink!”) But effortlessly bringing volume and emotion down to a whisper when needed as well. Though Manfred has long been neglected (many complete recorded cycles of Tchaikovsky’s symphonies do not include it), over the past few years it has been heard in NYC several times. New York Philharmonic played it with Semyon Bychkov (one of Petrenko’s mentors) and Vienna Philharmonic played it at Carnegie with Valery Gergiev. Perhaps Maestro Bychkov’s performance was bigger. The NY Philharmonic’s heavier sound might account for the bigger bombast. Bayerisches Staatsorchester has a leaner, more pointed sound overall. It provided greater transparency in the more heavily orchestrated parts (and there are many.) Personal tastes will vary on the preferred sound. But no doubt Kirill Petrenko led a superb night of music-making. His future with the Berlin Philharmonic is very exciting.

Above: Kirill Petrenko and the musicians of the Bayerisches Staatsorchester acknowledge the applause at the close of this evening's concert; photo by Chris Lee

~ Ben Weaver

Tetzlaff @ Tully

~ Author: Scoresby

Wednesday March 28th, 2018 - It is difficult to write about Bach's Sonatas and Partitas for Solo Violin, especially live performances. It is stunning music with too many layers to write about, nearly impossible to play well live (recordings polish all the difficulties away), and something that many people are familiar with. Of course it is far harder to play them in an evening - the endurance required is a feat that few violinists attempt. As part of the Lincoln Center Great Performers series in Alice Tully Hall, violinist Christian Tetzlaff gave a solo recital of two thirds of the set. Mr. Teztlaff has a history of performing these works every few years in NY, he has played them twice in full at the 92nd Street Y before (both of which I regretfully missed) and just issued his second recording of the set last year. Thus it seemed like the perfect opportunity to sit down and listen.

Mr. Tetzlaff was all business this evening, walking out on stage and starting to play the Grave of Sonata No. 2 in A minor, BWV 1003 before the audience had even stopped clapping. The audience took this entire movement before settling in (people were still rustling in their seats, whispering, etc...). He took a brisk tempo and sounded almost improvisatory with this opening. The sound was clean and had almost no vibrato. Without a pause he jumped straight in to the Fuga, making the two movements sound like something out of the Well-Tempered Clavier. 

The fugue was orchestral in scale and each down-bow was emphasized to give the piece its own internal rhythm. The effect was hypnotic, drawing the listener into Mr. Tetzlaff's world. While not clean playing by any means, that's not the point when listening to Mr. Tetzlaff. He is able to build large structures without making the music sound pretentious - his playing is fluid and with ease all at once.

Above: violinist Christian Tetzlaff; photo credit: Giorgia Bertazzi

The Andante was the highlight of the concert. Again a faster pace than is typically played, Mr. Tetzlaff used this to bring out the accompanying pulse in the bass. Just by playing it faster, the piece sounded more orchestral and unified without losing its charm. Many violinists eschew this pulse for the main melody, but Mr. Tetzlaff gave them equal importance making the melody sound like a baroque soloist sitting atop an accompanying recorder. Despite that large sonority, Mr. Tetzlaff was unassuming in his playing - not injecting anything besides bringing out that counter-melody. There was basically no tension nor ornamentation, just the soft padding of the pedal point and the beautiful melody sitting atop. It is moving to hear music played that joyously and humbly; the happiness was contagious.

In the sunnier second half of the program with Sonata No. 3 in C major, BWV 1005 and Partita No. 3 in E major, BWV 1006, Mr. Tetzlaff was more at home. His unpretentious, almost folksy sound worked well with both of these works. The Fuga of Bach's 3rd sonata is one of Bach's most complex fugues. It starts with a simple theme that is put through the wringer of different techniques that would be difficult on a keyboard, let alone a violin. Mr. Tetzlaff navigated its complexity by highlighting the inner voices and given a soft bowing, making this work sound more intimate despite a slew of mistakes. The dense chords became chorale like. 

The other highlight of the program was the fourth movement of this sonata. Mr. Tetzlaff played the Allegro assai with ease, eliminating all of the rough sonorities that torment other violinists. His tone was understated, quiet, and made every voice entirely visible. His bowing was magical to watch, it looked (and sound) as if there was no tension - just gliding through the technical piece like water pours into a glass. This allowed him to make each key shift stand out and take on its own timbre - a brilliant way of playing Bach. The last Partita fit Mr. Tetzlaff's down-to-Earth sensibilities. He played with a delicate sensibility letting the music unravel on its own through various bursts of speed and thoughtful passagework. He eschewed almost all ornamentation and just played the music.

After the performance one person nearby me said 'Well, he can't play all the notes', to which I gladly agree. Instead his performance was human, vulnerable, and humble. In spite of some of his idiosyncratic rhythms, this performance showed that he is the antithesis of a virtuoso, something all too rare. 

~ Scoresby

YCA Presents Flautist Anthony Trionfo

Above: Anthony Trionfo, photographed by Matt Dine

~Author: Oberon

Wednesday March 28th, 2018 - Young Concert Artists presenting flautist Anthony Trionfo at Merkin Hall. Mr. Trionfo is a musician of prodigious talent and scintillating personality; along with the excellent pianist Albert Cano Smit and a quartet of string players, he offered a wide-ranging, adventurous program combining the familiar, the rare, and the new.

Gabriel Fauré's Fantasy in E minor, Op. 79, opened the evening. Mr. Trionfo's shining tone and his feel for the sensuous undercurrents of the opening Andantino gave way, in the Allegro, to florid passages of crystalline coloratura. Mr. Cano Smit was the ideal partner here, his playing impeccably tailored, his seriousness of intent and commitment most welcome in such a young artist. 

Returning alone to the stage, Mr. Trionfo gave a superbly confident performance of J.S. Bach's Partita in A minor, BWV 1013. In this suite of dances, the flautist showed great subtlety and a multi-hued timbre that kept the music ever-alive. The Courante had a feel of birdsong, the Sarabande a forlorn air of touching simplicity. In the concluding Bourrée anglaise, the playing was light-filled and lovely.

The New York premiere of drip/spin by Katherine Balch, the 2017 YCA Composer-in-Residence, was prefaced by Mr. Trionfo's remarks about the 'dew-drop necklace' - silk threads and mucus droplets - with which the glow-worm attracts and entraps its prey. The perpetual motion of the piano part seems to envision the spinning toils of the glow-worm, whilst the sighs and blips from the flute depict the unsuspecting victim. Some of the piano keys have been 'prepared', adding a ghostly quality. The flute lingers on high, until an energy drain occurs. Then the piano begins a rolling motif; in its death throes, the preyed-upon flute goes wild, with harsh accents that finally sputter out.

For the Chant de Linos by André Jolivet, a string quartet comprised of Mélanie Genin (harp), Aleksey Semenenko (violin), Ida Kavafian (viola) and Sang-Eun Lee (cello) joined Mr. Trionfo onstage. André Jolivet (1905-1974) composed this work on commission from the Paris Conservatoire in 1944 as a compulsory test piece for competitors in the Solo de Concours; the prize was won that year by Jean-Pierre Rampal. The work is a threnody (or lament to the dead) inspired by the story of Linos, son of Apollo. Linos taught Orpheus to play the lyre, and he was later killed by Heracles for criticizing him too much. André Jolivet was a composer inspired by the legends from antiquity; he wrote many chamber music works, eleven concertos, as well as orchestral and vocal music.

The rich yet transparent textures of the strings are quite contemporary in sound yet they evoke a distant, mythic past. A dreamy passage for flute and harp draws us in; the music can veer from lyrical to explosive in the twinkling of an eye. A subtle flute solo leads to a darkish dance played by all. Things get a bit woozy before turning to lament; following a cadenza, the music dances onward with the flute trilling and piping. What a great idea to program this ensemble piece tonight: a wonderful opportunity to hear this music, and so beautifully played.  

Above: pianist Albert Cano Smit

A fascinating performance of Lowell Liebermann's Sonata for flute and piano, Op. 23, followed the interval. The opening Lento con rubato soon wraps us in the strange beauty of its misterioso atmosphere. Delicate sounds from the piano's upper register are followed by a big outburst which subsides into ghostliness. Single notes struck by the pianist underscore a sinuous flute motif; then the flute sound turns big and piercing. Rippling piano figurations summon the flautist back to song, a gentle flow becoming a percolation. The haunting melody returns in all is mystery, and Mr. Trionfo's flute makes a final ascent to a remarkably sustained note that tapers away.

In the ensuing Presto energico, there is much bouncy, lively coloratura from the flute which Mr. Trionfo conveyed brilliantly, with lots of body English; meanwhile the piano writing is animated...almost wild. The music sails forward, with virtuosic playing from Mr. Cano Smit whilst Mr. Trionfo spins high flourishes with his flute. This work drew a very warm audience response, with the composer taking a bow to waves of enthusiasm.

Ian Clark's Zoom Tube again gave Mr. Trionfo the opportunity to demonstrate some of the various sound effects his flute could produce...like the Balch, but more extroverted and pop-oriented. He sometimes seemed to be producing two different sounds at the same time, 'speaking' or blowing air, playfully jazzing things up, even emitting a whooping scream at one point.

Mr. Trionfo's arrangement of the traditional Carnival of Venice provided an immensely enjoyable showcase for his virtuosity. After a captivating trill, the flautist embarked on a series of variations on the familiar tune: the blues, bel canto, jazz, a Latin lilt, 'Casta diva', and on and on. Mr. Cano Smit was the perfect accomplice in this imaginative tour de force as the two players kept the audience thoroughly engaged with their technical dazzle and well-contrasted personalities.

As an encore, Mr. Trionfo offered Debussy's Syrinx, ending on a sustained, gossamer pianissimo.

~ Oberon

CMS Winter Festival 2018 - #3

Above: the Shanghai Quartet

~ Author: Oberon

Tuesday March 27th, 2018 - The last concert of Chamber Music Society of Lincoln Center's Winter festival, entitled Chamber Music Vienna.

Ignaz Schuppenzigh (1776-1830) is credited with pioneering the 'chamber music series'. Schuppenzigh was a violinist and a friend of Beethoven who presented over a hundred chamber music concerts in Vienna between 1823 and 1828. Works of Haydn, Mozart, and Beethoven were prominently featured in the programming, and it is precisely those three composers whose music we heard this evening.

But tonight's concert had a deeper significance, for it duplicated exactly the program Schuppenzigh offered in Vienna on March 26th, 1827 - the very day that Beethoven passed away. In fact, it has been determined that the moving Largo con espressione from Beethoven's Trio in G major, Op. 1, No, 2, was being played the exact time of the great man's passing. 

The Shanghai Quartet opened this evening's concert with Haydn's Quartet in G major for Strings, Hob. III:81, Op. 77, No. 1 (1799). The Shanghai have their own distinctive sound, cool and concise, suited well to both their Haydn and Mozart offerings on this program.

The opening movement of the G major quartet, marked Allegro moderato, has a feeling of perpetual motion, somewhere between a march and a dance. There are ingratiating modulations and the writing is quite florid. By contrast, the Adagio, with its unison opening, has an almost operatic feeling. Courtly, and with gracious harmonies, the first violin sings forth and then engages in a duet with the deepening cello. Rising modulations - with the cello ever-prominent - bring a da capo which, with varying harmonics, reaches an emotional level I don't often feel in Haydn's music. The Shanghai made much of this movement's sheer beauty.

The Minuet has the genuine air of a scherzo; it's fun, with swirls of notes carrying the violin on high. The swift, unison start of the Finale: Presto brings some very nimble playing from the Shanghai's 1st violinist, Weigang Li; the music becomes genuinely exhilarating.

Next came Mozart: his Quartet in D-major for Strings, K. 575, is one of the “Prussian” quartets (dating from 1789) and as such features the cello as a nod to the cello-playing king, Friedrick Wilhelm II. In the opening Allegretto, it is the cello that presents the second theme; here, and throughout the piece, the Shanghai's Nicholas Tzavaras shone.

While the Andante clearly showcases the cello, Mozart doesn't shirk on opportunities for the violist - Honggang Li - or the violins, Weigang Li and Yi-Wen Jiang. Mr. Tzavaras is really in his element with the melodies, and at one point a matched phrase is passed from voice to voice. Quite inventive.

Following the light, jesting feeling of the Menuetto (Allegretto), the concluding Allegretto's theme takes the cello to its high register. A decorative canon pops up before we reach the finale. 

Above: Beethoven's tomb in Vienna's Central Cemetary

The evening ended with Beethoven's Trio in G major for Piano, Violin, and Cello, Op. 1, No. 2. Pianist Gilbert Kalish, violinist Arnaud Sussmann, and cellist Paul Watkins took the stage for a first-rate performance of this work from a still-young composer.

Following a slow introduction, in which the lovely blend of the strings and the stylish Steinway work of Mr. Kalish heralded delights to come, the first movement goes Allegro in quite a lively, sometimes folkish manner. The writing has its witty aspects, but the two women in front of us decided they'd never heard anything so hilarious, and they struck up a running conversation, laced with chuckles. Shushing was to no avail.

Arnaud Sussmann's absolutely gorgeous tone made a glowing impact in the Largo con espressione, inter-weaving with the bounteous beauty of Mr. Watkins's cello to irresistible effect as refined romance bloomed from the keyboard. This Largo is considered to be Beethoven's first great slow movement.

Following the Scherzo, which bounces from major to minor and back, light-weight agitation marks the Finale: Presto. One violin motif seems like a pre-echo from Rossini's GUILLAUME TELL overture. With its rhythmic vitality and breezy, devil-may-care lilt, the Presto comes to a vivacious end.

~ Oberon

Twenty Years in Gotham

March 28th, 2018 - Twenty years ago today, I moved to New York City. This was the first photo taken of me after I settled in at the studio on Perry Street.

Around 1995, I had started to lay definite plans for leaving Hartford and living in my dream city; my goal had been to do it prior to my 50th birthday, and I made it with three months to spare. About three weeks after I'd moved here, I met Wei...and the rest is history.

Marina Prudenskaya

Born in St. Petersburg, Marina Prudenskaya's career has centered at Stuttgart (2007-2013) and more recently at the Berlin State Opera. Her vast repertoire has included Bradamante (Alcina), Clitemnestre (Iphigénie en Aulide), Adalgisa (Norma), Fenena (Nabucco), Federica (Luisa Miller), Amneris (Aida), Carmen, Waltraute (Götterdämmerung), Octavian, Azucena, Eboli, Ulrica, Venus in Tannhäuser, Brangäne (Tristan und Isolde), Lyubasha (The Tsar’s Bride), Marie (Wozzeck), Composer (Ariadne auf Naxos), Hansel, and Mother Goose (The Rake’s Progress). 

She has sung at La Scala, the Mariinsky, and Bayreuth, and in 2017 she sang Amneris at Washington DC. Ms. Prudenskaya caught my attention while watching a DVD of Rheingold from La Scala, conducted by Daniel Barenboim: as Flosshilde (a role she's also sung at Bayreuth), the mezzo sings lushly and moves with the grace of a dancer.

Marina Prudenskaya - Rimsky-Korsakov ~ Across the Midnight Sky

Lifits @ Weill Hall

~ Author: Scoresby

Friday March 23rd, 2018 - It is always a pleasure going to Carnegie Hall's Distinctive Debuts series to hear new young musicians. This evening had the Uzbeckistani-German pianist Michail Lifits performing a short and somewhat eclectic program. The evening began with the last piano sonata that Schubert published in his lifetime: Piano Sonata in G major, D 894. Interestingly, this work was Schumann's favorite Schubert piece. It is an unusual for younger musicians to program this work as it is one of Schubert's most understated. Typically I am wary of hearing this piece played, as it can sound utterly repetitive in the wrong hands. Mr. Lifits proved otherwise, providing one of the most probing performances I've heard of the piece.

The work commences with a serene chord pattern that serves as the base for the entire first movement. Mr. Lifits used a quiet and refined style of playing. There wasn't much pedal; however, all of the voices were even. His tempo was quicker than some, but this only emphasized the song like quality of the music. After each restatement of this main theme, Mr. Lifits would slightly alter his voicing, throwing a different shade of color to this chord pattern. Over the course of the few minutes leading up to the dramatic downward scale that launches the piece forward, Mr. Lifits hand began to focus on clarifying the lower notes and murky inner-voices. Thus, with the tension set, he launched into that fateful downward scale creating one of the most dramatic moments of the evening. His sensitivity in dynamics let that moment feel like an awakening of sorts, after all the quiet lead up.  

Above: Pianist Michail Lifits, Photo Credit: Felix Broede

After finally moving into this broader dynamic range, Mr. Lifits took full advantage. Through the first movement there are beautiful lieder-like sections. Here the piano had a softer sound, the melody in the right hand sounding like a singer playfully skirting atop a charming accompaniment. Each time the downward motif was repeated, Mr. Lifits increased the drama by adding slightly louder dynamics propelling the music forward.  

In the main repeated chords, the lower basses gradually came into its own melancholy identity. Mr. Lifits wistful playing made this tinge become apparent through all the gracefulness above it. Finally, after transforming the almost repetitious theme for the last time the first movement came to delicate close. The audience was so enthused that they gave him a loud clap before letting him begin the second movement. I've never heard such a creative performance of that movement, that let each chord shine while at the same time pushing the music forward.  

Mr. Lifits took a slightly faster approach for the second movement than one typically hears, which just increased the song-like quality inherent in this music. In the second minor theme that takes over this was particularly present. Despite some smudges in some of the scales and some technical issues, as a whole the second and third movements were still lovely.  

Not pausing between any of the movements (perhaps out of fear that the audience would clap again, a good problem to have), he took a naïve jolly tempo for the last movement. Enjoying each ornamentation in the right hand and letting the music pop. I couldn't but think that Schumann must have been inspired by this in his own Carnival. Regardless, I look forward to listening to Mr. Lifits' Schubert CD (which includes this sonata). According to his biography he is recording an entire cycle of Schubert's music and I look forward to hearing it all. 

In the second half of the concert, there was a transition from the serene to the circus. First was the Shostakovich 24 Preludes, Op. 34 performed in succession without a break with Shostakovich Prelude and Fugue in D minor, Op. 87, No. 24. The Preludes are an earlier set of pieces which are classic Shostakovich joke-type pieces. While there are some serious moments, they are a study in comical miniatures for the most part. While I enjoy hearing a few of these, hearing all of them in succession was a little much for my taste (even as a devout Shostakovich lover).  

Nonetheless, Mr. Lifits gave as good of a performance as one can expect, emphasizing the humorous sections of these pieces. In the second movement which is a burlesque sort of waltz, Mr. Lifits indulged in its off-kilter quality. He played up the various extreme dynamic changes in the wild moments. In the eighth movements riffs on jazzy themes, the piano here sounded like in a cabaret. The best part of the second half was the organ-like prelude and fugue. Mr. Lifits managed to coax all of the difficult voicing out of the fugue to create an intricate web of layers.  

After such a well-played concert, Mr. Lifits offered Rachmaninoff's showy arrangement of Kreisler's Liebesleid, which seemed inappropriate after all that came before. As a panacea to the Rachmaninoff, Mr. Lifits finished the concert with a second encore of Chopin's posthumous Nocturne in C-sharp Minor which he played as well as the Schubert.

~ Scoresby

Lisa Batiashvili|ORPHEUS @ Carnegie Hall

Above: violinist Lisa Batiashvili, rehearsing for this evening's concert with ORPHEUS; photo by Matt Dine

~ Author: Oberon

Saturday March 24th, 2018 - My friend Dmitry and I are big fans of Lisa Batiashvili, so we were excited by this opportunity to hear her play the Prokofiev second concerto with ORPHEUS at Carnegie Hall. The program successfully blended works by Schubert and Prokofiev, and the comely violinist basked in a rock-star ovation after her dazzling performance.

In 1823, Franz Schubert composed incidental music for Helmina von Chézy's play, Rosamunde. The play was a failure, but Schubert's music has come down to us across nearly two centuries. ORPHEUS opened their concert tonight with the play's Entr’acte No. 1, commencing with a big, resonant sound that gave the illusion of a full symphony orchestra. The music has an air of theatrical drama, and there's some lovely writing for clarinet. 

Paul Chihara's persuasive arrangement of Prokofiev's Schubert Waltzes Suite, created specially for ORPHEUS, was highly enjoyable, and attractively played. Solo passages for oboe, flute, clarinet, and trumpet stood out. Mr. Chihara was present, and took a bow from the audience.

Above: ORPHEUS onstage at Carnegie Hall, a Matt Dine photo

The two existing movements of Franz Schubert's Symphony No. 8 in B Minor, D. 759 (Unfinished) were given plush treatment by the ORPHEUS forces, and again the clarinet, oboe, and flute soloists seized on their opportunities to delight us with melodious gems. The ensemble sound overall was vividly textured, with notable sonic warmth from the cellos, and the frequent repeats of the familiar theme of the Allegro moderato were so cordially played. A cellphone interrupted the Andante - twice! - spoiling the atmosphere; and no sooner had that distraction faded, than some poor bloke had a terrible coughing fit. It took all my powers of concentration to endure.

After the interval, Ms. Batiashvili strolled onto the Carnegie Hall stage along with the ORPHEUS musicians - eschewing a star's entrance - and proceeded to enthrall us with her commanding and emotionally vivid performance of the second Prokofiev violin concerto, Op. 63.

Above: Lisa Batasthvili playing the Prokofiev 2nd this evening; photo by Matt Dine.

From her opening solo passage, Ms. Batiashvili's playing seemed wonderfully at home, both in the embracing acoustic of the venerable hall and in the decidedly à la Russe qualities of the music. Her luminous tone in the sustained melodic passages and the clarity and deftness of her coloratura flourishes were captivating. A spidery motif over plucked accompaniment was subtly delivered, and - after a lamenting theme from the cellos and a march-like intrusion - she produced lively swirls of notes over a descending orchestral figure. As the violinist returned to the sweet, poignant melody heard earlier, we were on a Batiashvili high when the mood was broken by a moaning baby somewhere in the upper tiers. At moments like this, I seriously think about giving up concert-going.

But Ms. Batiashvili drew us back into her world with her simply gorgeous playing in the Andante assai; the theme has a nostalgic glow and it sings over a plucked accompaniment. Sailing higher and higher, with spine-tingling glamour of tone, the violinist provided for us a transfusion of tranquility in a world going mad. The ensemble then take up the melodic passage as the violin plays pizzicati.

The final movement, Allegro, ben marcato, brings us elements of the wit that Prokofiev can so magically integrate into his music: yet another reason he's one of my top favorite composers. The castanets here always make me smile. Throughout this dance-like movement, it was as much fun watching the pretty violinist as listening to her. As this concerto reaches its lively finish, I always wish it had been longer.

Ms. Batiashvili, looking lovely as ever in her wine-coloured gown, won an enraptured ovation from the crowd. She treated us to a delightful encore: the March from Prokofiev's LOVE OR THREE ORANGES.

Above, mutual admiration: Lisa Batiashvili and the players of ORPHEUS. Photo by Matt Dine.

~ Oberon

Celebrating Michael Trusnovec @ Paul Taylor

Above: Michael Trusnovec

~ Author: Oberon

Friday March 23rd, 2018 - This evening, at Mr. B's House, we celebrated Michael Trusnovec's 20th anniversary with the Paul Taylor Dance Company. Michael, one of the greatest dancers of our time, danced in all three works on tonight's program. No one who has ever experienced a Michael Trusnovec performance needs to be told about his classically handsome face, his to-die-for physique, his complete command of every role he's cast in, his peerless partnering skills, his musicality, his generosity of spirit, and his humble grace in acknowledging big ovations. All of this was wonderfully in evidence tonight. To be a star in an all-star Company, and to dance night after night the works of a master choreographer: what more could a dancer ask?

The three ballets on offer tonight were strongly contrasted in music, movement, and style. The program showed off the vast range of the Taylor dancers, and their priceless gift for keeping the Taylor masterworks ever-fresh whilst being ready, willing, and able to tackle new choreography and make it their own. 

Above: from Doug Varone's HALF LIFE, a Paul B Goode photo

Doug Varone's HALF LIFE, set to a score by Julia Wolfe, with lighting by James Ingalls and costumes designed by Liz Prince, opened the evening. This ballet premiered earlier this season. It begins with Eran Bugge and George Smallwood dancing in-sync, in silence, on a bare stage with over-head fluorescent lighting. Then the music begins: vibrant and driven, it propels the dancers into a veritable whirlwind of motion and commotion. Fear seems to be the driving force behind all this activity as they dash about, full of apprehension, making fleeting contact with one another before rushing off in another direction. Terror has descended upon them as they push and pull, fall and rise, entangle and break free, twist, turn, and fling themselves about the space. Periodically, a dancer will raise his arm towards heaven, imploring god's intervention. Like billions of prayers down the centuries, these remain unanswered.

The fluorescent lights have turned to a toxic, lurid yellow as they begin to descend, flattening the space as the dancers run away, hopefully to a fallout shelter. The lights sputter out.

HALF LIFE might be viewed as a ballet for the new nuclear age that threatens us now as today's world leaders seem to be moving towards a "my bomb's bigger than your bomb" mentality. While Mr. Varone's choreography - so relentless, filled with an almost random dynamism - is exciting to behold in and of itself, watching the dancers thru my strong opera glasses added another whole dimension: their intense facial expressions, the fear and wariness in their eyes, and their desperation to communicate with one another brought the panic and dread of these uncertain times into sharp focus. HALF LIFE isn't just a bunch of people rushing about with manic energy, but a commentary on the human condition as our planet experiences a second Age of Anxiety.

There were countless passages in which to focus on the individual dancers; clad in simple off-the-rack style clothing, they all look beautiful, even in their distress. The men - Mr. Trusnovec, Robert Kleinendorst, Sean Mahoney, Michael Novak, Mr. Smallwood, Lee Duveneck, and Alex Clayton - flung themselves into fast-paced moves and tricky, split-second partnering. Yet my opera glasses were continually lured by the women: Michelle Fleet, Parisa Khobdeh, Eran Bugge, Laura Halzack, and Heather McGinley. Ms. McGinley, the Company's knockout redhead, danced up a storm. They all did, in fact.

There was a gigantic roar of applause as the curtain fell, and as pairs of dancers stepped forward during the bows, screams of epic proportion filled the hall: all so eminently deserved. At a time when so much new choreography seems simply to be going thru the motions, Mr. Varone - richly abetted by Ms. Wolfe's tumultuous score - gives us an unnervingly timely piece. The dancers took it and ran with it. Thrilling! 

Above: Parisa Khobdeh and Michael Trusnovec in EVENTIDE, a Paul B Goode photo

EVENTIDE, one of Taylor's most lyrical works, unfolds before a backdrop of hazy trees on a late-Summer afternoon in the English countryside. The Ralph Vaughan Williams score brought forth idyllic playing from the Orchestra of St Luke's and violist David Cerutti.

The ensemble dance a graceful and courtly Prelude, then individual couples appear in a series of duets. In the first, Parisa Khobdeh and Michael Trusnovec summon feelings of slightly hesitant tenderness; it finishes with Ms. Khobdeh perched on Mr. Trusnovec's shoulder. There's a bit of playfulness in the second duet, with Jamie Rae Walker and Sean Mahoney clearly attracted to one another but not quite sure of how to express it. I really like their partnership.

In a gorgeous, adagio/pas de quatre Heather McGinley and Michael Novak simply radiate gentle romance, Ms. McGinley's eyes sweetly downcast so as not to be blinded by the handsomeness of her cavalier, whilst Mr. Novak shows a quiet pride at having such a distinctive beauty as Ms. McGinley on his arm. It's a duet of mutual admiration and reassurance.

Deep and heartfelt emotion seems to fill the air as Laura Halzack and James Samson danced together in sublime harmony, casting tender looks into one another's eyes; a moment when Laura simply touched James's cheek was just unbearably lovely. This stage has been home to some very charismatic partnerships - Suzanne and Peter, Wendy and Jock - but few have moved me as much as watching Laura and James together this season. 

A shadow falls over the meadow as Eran Bugge enters, wary but oddly hopeful: she's being pursued by a quietly predatory Robert Kleinendorst, and as their duet ends, Robert leaves Eran on her own...a very significant moment, as she is both safe but perhaps also just a bit sorry. Together, Eran and Rob told this story so expressively.

Heather McGinley and Michael Novak bring a sense of open-hearted richness to their second duet. It's a long pas de deux, but with these two dancing it could have been twice as long and remained thoroughly mesmerizing. Finally Ms. Khobdeh and Mr. Trusnovec re-appear in a poignant pas de deux, finding solace in their romance: elegant and sustaining dance, awash with fond devotion.

EVENTIDE concludes with an extended promenade for the entire cast. As ever, this ballet left me musing on my own romantic choices over the years, filled with notions of what might have been.

CLOVEN KINGDOM is a ballet I never tire of seeing. It was given a magical glow tonight, with everyone incredibly finding an extra iota of energy, commitment, and inspiration in honor of their colleague, Mr. Trusnovec. 

Michelle Fleet, Jamie Rae Walker, Eran Bugge, and Parisa Khobdeh ease thru high-toned samba sways one minute, and then they're flipping cartwheels the next. I just loved watching them thru my trusty binocs. Laura Halzack and Christina Lynch Markham are bound together by some mythic spell: we don't quite know what their story is, but I never tire of trying to figure it out. Madelyn Ho periodically flashes across the stage in pursuit of Heather McGinley, who remains confidently self-absorbed as she carries on with her jetés. 

Tonight, Mr. Trusnovec had Mssrs. Samson, Apuzzo, and Smallwood as his fellow tuxedoed teammates for the men's pas de quatre that's at the epicenter of this cloven kingdom. Their fearless athleticism and bizarre rituals underscore the Spinoza quote that always accompanies this ballet's listing in the Playbill: "Man is a social animal." 

A whooping ovation greeted the first CLOVEN KINGDOM curtain call, a full-cast bow. Then the curtain rose again with Mr. Trusnovec alone onstage, clutching a huge bunch of flowers. Massive applause and cheers: the audience simply went crazy as Michael's fellow dancers pelted him with bouquets from the wings.

Of Michael Trusnovec, Robert Gottlieb wrote in the New York Observer: "He's the greatest male dancer we've had in America since Mikhail Baryshnikov, with whom he shares an immense range and a selfless devotion to his art. Trusnovec never demands your attention, but he always has it." I couldn't agree more.

~ Oberon