Barbara Bonney sings Franz Liszt's O, quand je dors; watch and listen here.
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Barbara Bonney sings Franz Liszt's O, quand je dors; watch and listen here.
February 19, 2022 | Permalink
In 1974, Evelyn Lear sang a beautifully detailed performance of the Marschallin in Strauss's DER ROSENKAVALIER on a Met matinee broadcast.
Ms. Lear made her Met debut in 1967, singing the role of Lavinia in the world premiere of Marvin David Levy's MOURNING BECOMES ELECTRA. Over the next eighteen years, she sang nearly one hundred performances with The Met, both at Lincoln Center and on tour. She excelled as both the Marschallin and Octavian in ROSENKAVALIER, and as both Cherubino and Countess Almaviva in NOZZE DI FIGARO.
In 1970, Evelyn Lear was my first Composer in ARIADNE AUF NAXOS in a stellar cast also featuring Leonie Rysanek, Reri Grist, and James King, conducted by Karl Böhm. Among her other Met roles were Marie in WOZZECK, Mozart's Donna Elvira, and Alice Ford in FALSTAFF; in the last-named opera, her real-life husband Thomas Stewart played her onstage husband, Ford. On the 4th of July, 1972, she sang a single Tosca in concert at Prospect Park, with Richard Tucker as Mario Cavaradossi.
Earlier in her career, Ms. Lear had had outstanding successes singing the title-role in Alban Berg's LULU. In 1980, at The Met, she took on that opera's mezzo-soprano role of the Countess Geschwitz and gave an incredibly moving performance. She ended her Met career in 1985 with two performances as the Marschallin.
Evelyn Lear passed away in 2012.
February 18, 2022 | Permalink
Wednesday February 16th, 2022 matinee - My first time back at The Morgan Library since the pandemic started; it's such a pleasant venue for hearing the noontime recitals offered by Young Concert Artists. Today, pianist Harmony Zhu, guest artist/violinist Paul Huang, and cellist Jonathan Swensen joined forces for a program of music by Khachaturian, Chopin, and Smetana.
Above: Jonathan Swensen, photo by Tonny Pomiklo
The concert was a smashing success, literally from note one: Mr. Swensen's riveting performance of the Sonata-Fantasy by Aram Khachaturian commenced on a low-C - the instrument's "lowest note" - and what a uncannily rich-sounding note it was. From there, the cello embarks on a dolorous, sustained melody, wherein Mr. Swensen's thrillingly plush timbre and sense of drama kept us spellbound. Passages of fiorature alternate with deep-plunging phrases; the cellist's mastery of vibrato giving life to every note. High accents lead to dancing rhythms, and then to yearning lyricism. After a cadenza, the music flows onward to its stunning, fantastical finish. Mr. Swensen, with his engaging smile and shock of blonde hair, garnered huge applause from the crowd for his passionate, masterful performance.
Above: Harmony Zhu
Harmony Zhu, a remarkable 16-year-old pianist (and champion chess player), regaled the audience with her winning performance of Frédéric Chopin's Fantaisie in F-minor, Op. 49, which was published in 1841. Dressed in red, with be-jeweled pumps, Ms. Zhu looks even younger than she is - and her talent is prodigious.
From its pensive start, this Fantaisie frequently takes flights of fancy. Bright, swift passages alternate with hushed, poetic moments that are poignantly reflective. A rhapsodic build-up turns to restlessness, the pianist relishing the swift flow of notes up and down the keyboard. At the work's dazzling finish, the audience saluted Ms. Zhu with great warmth. What a delight she is!
Paul Huang (above) then joined Ms. Zhu and Mr. Swensen for a spectacular rendering of Bedřich Smetana's Trio in G-minor, Op. 15
Introducing the piece, Ms. Zhu told us that Smetana wrote it while he was recovering from the death of his young daughter; the music's prevailing sense of sadness is sometimes relieved by passages recalling happy moments from the girl's brief life.
Paul Huang's opening solo was soulfully played; a great passion arises followed by a gracious cello theme from Mr. Swensen and a responding melody in the high range from Mr. Huang. All three players join in an animated section before the violinist's silken tone sings again. A rhythmic outburst soon simmers down, and Ms. Zhu displays the many hues of her dynamic range in a Chopinesque solo. Mr. Huang returns to the movement's opening mood, sorrowful and passionate, echoed again by Mr. Swensen. The music becomes grand, with a brisk finish.
We might have expected a darkish adagio next, but instead we have a scherzo-like movement, again with the violin taking the lead and the cello replying. A luscious theme brings the three players together, joining in unison; the depth of Mr. Swensen's tone is simply thrilling to hear. The movement ends quietly.
The vibrant finale finds all three musicians at their most passionate, with the piano sending the music dashing along in an agitated state. A heartfelt theme is introduced by Mr. Swensen and passed on to Mr. Huang; the two players seemed to be vying in a friendly contest of which can make the most gorgeous sounds. Meanwhile, Ms. Zhu injects embellishments in Chopin-mode. A big tragic tutti sounds forth, drawing this remarkable work to its splendid finish.
The audience, so wonderfully attentive throughout the concert, now erupted in a vociferous standing ovation, with Mr. Huang genially applauding his colleagues. With this marvelous music echoing in our ears, my friend Donghwan Kim and I lingered to enjoy the Morgan's wonderful Holbein exhibit, which remains in place thru May 15th, 2022.
~ Oberon
February 17, 2022 | Permalink
Lydia Kindermann was born in Lodz, Poland, in 1891. She made her operatic debut in 1917 and for the next two decades sang at Graz, Stuttgart, Cologne, Prague, the Berlin Staatsoper. Barcelona, Madrid, with the Concertgebouw in Amsterdam, and in a Wagner concert at Paris. Her large repertoire included Magdalene in MEISTERSINGER, Brangaene, Die Amme in FRAU OHNE SCHATTEN, Jocasta in OEDIPUS REX, Laura in GIOCONDA, the Mother in HANSEL UND GRETEl, Fricka, Azucena, Amneris, and Dailia. She worked with such illustrious conductors as Arturo Toscanini, Fritz Busch, and Erich Kleiber.
In 1938, fleeing the rise of Nazisim, Lydia Kindermann emigrated to Buenos Aires and became a pillar of the company at the Teatro Colón. She broadened her already extensive repertoire with such roles as Genevieve in PELLEAS ET MELISANDE, Ulrica in BALLO IN MASCHERA, Dame Quickly, Erda and Waltraute in the RING Cycle, Klytemnestra in ELEKTRA, and Ortrud in LOHENGRIN. She continued to perform at the Colón and to sing in opera and recital elsewhere in South America until 1948, the year of this performance of Strauss's DAPHNE conducted by Kleiber:
Lydia Kindermann & Rose Bampton - scene from DAPHNE - Teatro Colón 1948
Returning to Vienna in 1949, Madame Kindermann taught until the recurrence of a brain tumor claimed her life in 1954.
~ Oberon
February 16, 2022 | Permalink
Above: pianist Juho Pohjonen
Sunday February 13th, 2022 - A thrilling evening at Chamber Music Society of Lincoln Center presenting masterpieces by Beethoven, Shostakovich, and Mendelssohn played by a stellar ensemble.
A violinist new to me, Richard Lin (above), opened the program with Beethoven's Sonata in D-major, Op. 12, No. 1, with the charismatic Finnish pianist Juho Pohjonen at the Steinway. Mr. Lin's timbre has an interesting, tangy appeal, and he and the pianist formed a cordial partnership.
Composed in 1797-98, this sonata's opening Allegro con brio features offbeat accents and unexpected harmonic shifts that tease the ear. Rippling piano figurations support serpentine phrases for the violin, with our two players relishing a broad dynamic range, finely aligned.
The central movement is a theme-and-variations affair, with the first two variations slyly providing a division of labor: one dominated by the piano, the other by the violin. The third variation is surprisingly stormy, while the last favors syncopation, and ends in a curiously witty way.
The finale is a lively Rondo, laced with explosive accents and unexpected twists and turns, found Mr. Lin's violin dancing blithely over Mr. Pohjonen's vivacious rhythms. Their spirited performance won the audience's warm approval.
Richard Lin took the lead in the Shostakovich Quintet in G-minor for Piano, Two Violins, Viola, and Cello, Op. 57, joined by fellow violinist Alexander Sitkovetsky, violist Matthew Lipman, cellist Paul Watkins, and Mr. Pohjonen.
Above: Matthew Lipman
The Piano Quintet was composed in 1940, when the composer was, temporarily at least, in favor with the Soviet authorities. The Quintet was an immediate success, and it won Shostakovich the 1940 Stalin Prize; it was soon being frequently performed by Soviet quartets, often with the composer himself at the piano.
This music is panoramic and thoroughly delightful, with never a dull moment. Mr. Pohjonen kicks things off with a dramatic introductory passage, then the strings join in dense harmonies. Mr. Lipman chimes in (this work calls for an exceptional violist, and that's what Mr. Lipman is), and an ascending unison phrase leads to a sudden stop.
An exquisite violin theme, played meltingly by Mr. Lin, commences a fugue as Mr. Sitkovetsky, Mr. Lipman, and Mr. Watkins join in turn. At the Steinway, Mr. Pohjonen commences a solo rooted in the depths, whilst Mr. Lipman's passionate playing leads to a buildup of intensity. With a lamenting quality, the movement ends softly and solemnly.
The Scherzo, commencing with its very familiar theme, is alive with rhythmic string segments, the flow of notes from the piano, a spirited high violin dance, and more wittiness from the viola. Grand plucking accents carry us forward.
For the ensuing Lento, Mr. Watkins provides a steady continuo over which Mr. Lin spins a poignant melody, harmonized by Mr. Lipman. Mr. Pohjonen underscores more affecting playing from Mr. Lin, whose sustained notes shimmer. The music turns dramatic, then slowly dissipates as Mr. Lin lingers on high. The movement's gorgeous finish was spoilt by the sound of a dropped object somewhere in the hall: something that always at the worst possible moment.
But the players held fast, with Mr. Pohjonen immediately commencing the Finale: Allegretto. Close harmonies are heard, and a grand rhythm springs up, like a march or a polonaise. At the Steinway, Mr. Pohjonen outdid himself as the music gets grand, with a big sway. Things calm down for soaring passage with the violins on high. The polonaise resumes, and we seem headed of a grand finale when - instead - Shostakovich gives us a subtle finish. Masterful!
The musicians were hailed with a mid-concert standing ovation, and they were rightly called back for a second bow. A great feeling of joy filled the hall.
Above: Alexander Sitkovesky, photo © Vincy Ng
Following the interval, Mssrs. Pohjonen, Sitkovetsky, and Watkins gave us a splendid performance of Felix Mendelssohn's Trio No. 1 in D-minor for Piano, Violin, and Cello, Op. 49. It was a chance hearing of this work on the radio one afternoon in the mid-1980s that first brought chamber music to my attention: prior to this revelation, I had listened almost exclusively to opera. Still, it wasn't until I'd moved to New York City - where world-class chamber music thrives - that the genre became an integral part of my life. So this evening's performance of the Mendelssohn was a affirmation for me: the composer's melodious masterwork moved me as deeply tonight as it had that afternoon in Hartford many years ago.
Above: Paul Watkins
Mr. Watkins' supremely velvety cello timbre drew me into the music immediately, much as this passage had when I first heard this music so many years ago. The sheer richness of melody in this trio is captivating, and with Mssrs. Sitkovetsky and Pohjonen joining the cellist, it soon became achingly beautiful. They played with such passion, Mr. Sitkovetsky bringing his Old World richness of tone and sense of lyricism to every phrase, Mr. Watkins' poetic warmth a constant balm for the soul, whilst Mr. Pohjonen is simply a magician of the keyboard. If the first movement was sublime, the musicians surpassed themselves in the second, played with heartfelt beauty by the pianist, and illuminated by the perfect harmonies of the strings. The ending of this Andante was perfection itself.
On to the Scherzo, so lively and gracious, played with dazzling virtuosity...and a deliciously delicate ending, à la MIDSUMMER NIGHT'S DREAM. And then the finale, Allegretto assai appassionato, so speedy and so spectacularly played. The audience's vociferous standing ovation - demanding a second curtain call - was the only possible reaction to such magnificent music-making.
~ Oberon
February 14, 2022 | Permalink
A performance of the Verdi REQUIEM given at the Duomo, Parma (above), in 2001. The Orchestra Sinfonica Nazionale della RAI and the chorus of the Mariinsky, St Petersburg, are under the direction of Valery Gergiev.
The soloists are Alessandra Marc (soprano), Larissa Diadkova (mezzo-soprano), Vincenzo La Scola (tenor), and Roberto Scandiuzzi (bass).
Watch and listen here.
February 12, 2022 | Permalink
Listen to Nathalie Stutzmann's very distinctive rendering of Johannes Brahms' Alto Rhapsody here. The Orchestre Révolutionnaire et Romantique and the Monteverdi Choir are under the direction of John Eliot Gardiner.
February 11, 2022 | Permalink
Above: Angel Blue, photo © 2022 by Steve J. Sherman, courtesy of Carnegie Hall
Tuesday February 8th, 2022 - Soprano Angel Blue was the featured soloist for this concert by the Philadelphia Orchestra at Carnegie Hall. Yannick Nézet-Séguin was on the podium for a program of works by four American composers: Samuel Barber, Florence Price, Valerie Coleman, and Matthew AuCoin.
There was a genuine air of excitement in the great Hall tonight; we were seated directly across the aisle from the two contemporary composers whose works were on offer: Valerie Coleman and Matthew AuCoin. During the interval, dozens of people crowded around these two luminaries, wishing them well, and seizing selfie opportunities. Best of all, their music was worthy of all the fuss.
Matthew Aucoin's opera Eurydice enjoyed a successful run at The Met earlier this season. Lisette Oropesa was originally envisioned for the title-role, but for various reasons the opera was premiered by Danielle de Niese in Los Angeles and by Erin Morley at The Met. Tonight, the Philadelphia Orchestra offered the NY premiere of a suite of music from the opera, commissioned by the Orchestra.
Mr. AuCoin's Eurydice Suite opens with a brilliant Zing! We are immediately alert to what now unfolds in the first movement - The Undeworld: deep, dense and restless music, with unison passages which take up a trudging beat, the glockenspiel adding splinters of brightness, like licks of Hellish flame. The celli, basses, and deep brass converge, the high violins are set against deep drums. A broad string theme emerges.
Moving forward, a poignant clarinet solo is heard, and then comes a gently rocking, repetitive interlude, the darkish quality again offset by the glockenspiel. A massive crescendo subsides to a brief viola solo, and the trudging resumes. A unison melody sustains over the sound of a beating heart. In the finale, whiplash effects and a sense of tumult emerge. This last movement seems a bit drawn-out; a bit of compressing here would make for a more potent finish.
All in black, with a black mask, Mr. AuCoin was fervently applauded as he rose for a bow from the audience; he's a craftsman with a soul, and we can expect so much from him in the years ahead. Maybe he's the man to turn my favorite Shakespeare play, Cymbeline, into an opera.
Angel Blue then joined the orchestra for a marvelous performance of Samuel Barber's beloved Knoxville: Summer of 1915. The soprano, a gorgeous woman with a voice to match, looked every inch the 21st-century diva in a striking gown: black décolleté bodice with a full skirt in cobalt blue, accented by a wide, bejeweled belt. The audience greeted this vision enthusiastically...and then she began to sing.
Ms. Blue's voice, a warm full-lyric instrument, suffused the hall with its glow, recalling in a way the voice of Eleanor Steber, who premiered Knoxville with the Boston Symphony Orchestra in 1948. Since then, the music has been sung by lighter voices - Dawn Upshaw, Katheen Battle, Barbara Bonney - as well as the fuller-voiced Leontyne Price, Roberta Alexander, and Renee Fleming. In recent years, tenors Anthony Dean Griffey and Russell Thomas have sung Knoxville with great success.
Angel Blue's diction was not always completely clear, but the James Agee poem is so familiar that it hardly mattered. What did matter was the opulence of the voice, which filled the hall and sustained a magical atmosphere throughout.
Ms. Blue returned to sing another Philadelphia Orchestra commission: Valerie Coleman's This Is Not a Small Voice, which was just premiered at Philadelphia. Poet Sonia Sanchez provides the text. Again, Ms. Blue's diction was sometimes lost in the sheer sumptuousness of her timbre, but we could follow along with the program notes. Her singing was thrilling: so immediate and so radiant. There are passages of vocalise, and some bluesy humming, as well as triumphant forays to the top notes. All this, Ms. Blue made her very own.
The poem - read it here - sings of the power and passion of black lives, which not only matter but are essential to the great fabric of life. Ms. Coleman's vocal writing strikes a fine balance between classical lyricism and the sounds of the here-and-now. And she uses the orchestra tellingly: the opening violins and harp, the veering from grandeur to intimacy, a beautiful passage for solo clarinet, a passing sweep of the cinematic.
That This Is Not a Small Voice should find an enduring place in the concert repertoire, as Knoxville has done, seems inevitable after tonight's hugely successful performance. At the work's end, Ms. Coleman, who was seated directly across the aisle from me, basked in a full-house standing ovation as she and Ms. Blue, onstage, sent waves of mutual admiration and affection back and forth to one another.
Perhaps the sweetest thing about this evening was experiencing the audience's embrace of both Mr. AuCoin and Ms. Coleman, and the surety that Angel Blue gained legions of new fans with her glorious singing.
Florence Price's Symphony No. 1 closed the evening. The 40-minute symphony, written in the classic four- movement mode, was my first experience of hearing this composer's music live. The fascinating story of the discovery of a vast trove of music by this forgotten composer in 2009 - many years after her death - is incredible.
Whether Ms. Price's first symphony is representative of her work remains to be seen; as more of it comes to light, we shall have a better feel for how her writing evolved over time. Tonight we heard an expertly-crafted and superbly-played symphony that is perfectly beautiful in every regard, but devoid of emotional depth. It had the feel of a very pleasant film score, as wave after wave of melody sweeps over us, leaving no after-trace. Interestingly, the program note likens Ms. Price's first symphony to Antonín Dvořák’s Symphony No.9, “From the New World”: music that leaves me with a similar feeling of emptiness.
Looking around at my fellow concert-goers as the Price symphony unfolded, I noted that large numbers of people were dozing; while this is not unusual at a symphonic concert, one might think that the first live hearing of a "lost" work would be more engaging. My hope is that, in time, we will hear more of Ms. Price's music and find that, as her composing career progressed, she was able to move beyond pleasantness to something deeper.
~ Oberon
February 09, 2022 | Permalink