Oberon's Grove

Claudia Schreier ~ ABT Studio Company

Above: dancer Chloe Misseldine of the ABT Studio Company; photo by Nir Arieli

~ Author: Oberon

Wednesday November 14th, 2018 - Choreographer Claudia Schreier is creating a new ballet for the ABT Studio Company. Entitled NEON, it's set to music by Marc Mellits, and it will be shown this weekend up at Kaatsbaan.

Photographer Nir Arieli and I stopped in at the ABT Studios today, where the Studio Company's Artistic Director, Sascha Radetsky, was overseeing his young dancers in a run-thru of Claudia's ballet.

Here are some of Nir's images from the afternoon:

Claudia Schreier with dancer Joseph Markey

Mr. Markey in the air

Joseph Markey, Kanon Kimura, and Claudia Schreier

Ms. Misseldine, Duncan McIlwaine

The ensemble

Andrew Robare, Grace Anne Pierce

Duncan McIlwaine

Duncan McIlwaine, Thomas Brun

Thomas Brun, Grace Anne Pierce, Leah Baylin

Leah Baylin, Andrew Robare

Kanon Kimura, Joseph Markey

All photos by Nir Arieli

~ Oberon

Martha's Men @ Martha Graham

Above: Alessio Crognale in Martha Graham's SECULAR GAMES, with Lloyd Mayor, Lloyd Knight, Lorenzo Pagano, and Ben Schultz. Photo by Melissa Sherwood.

~ Author: Oberon

Wednesday November 14th, 2018 - As part of their excellent GrahamDecontructed series, the Martha Graham Dance Company tonight held a studio event entitled Martha's Men, in which the men of the Graham Company were featured. And what men they are: Ben Schultz, Lorenzo Pagano, Lloyd Knight, Lloyd Mayor, Alessio Crognale, and Jacob Larsen.

As the audience members settled in, an archival film of an excerpt of Graham's EVERY SOUL A CIRCUS gave us a glimpse of Martha with two of her pioneering male dancers: Erick Hawkins and Merce Cunningham. Later, a video interview with Robert Cohan was shown, and it proved very moving. Brooklyn-born, Cohan danced with the Graham Company from 1946 to 1969, with a couple of breaks. He left to found the London Contemporary Dance Group. I discovered that this interview is now on YouTube.

Artistic director Janet Eilber welcomed us, and spoke of the history of male dancers in the Graham Company, which for the first several years of its life was an all-female troupe.

In 1939, Erick Hawkins (above, in EL PENITENTE) was the first man to join Martha Graham's company; he married her in 1948, left the Company in 1951, and the couple divorced in 1954. Graham created roles in several of her ballets for Hawkins, starting with APPALACHIAN SPRING.

The danced portion of this evening's studio event - beautifully lit - opened with a compelling performance of a solo from EL PENITENTE by Lorenzo Pagano. Set to a score by longtime Graham collaborator Louis Horst, this 1940 ballet envisions a troupe of strolling players who present a theatrical representation of the religious rituals of the Penitente movement in the American Southwest.

In a solo of self-flagellation, Lorenzo Pagano (above, photo by Melissa Sherwood) danced with searing commitment, developing a realistic portrait of the character with such passion that actually caused red marks to appear on his back. 

Excerpts from three of Martha Graham's "Greek" ballets came next.

Lloyd Knight and Charlotte Landreau danced an unwittingly incestuous duet from NIGHT JOURNEY, in which Oedipus and Jocasta form a bond that will lead to desolate tragedy. The music is by William Schuman. Lloyd Knight's alluring Oedipus makes Jocasta's heedless capitulation easily believable, while Charlotte Landreau in the stylized movements of the queen was a classic vision of feminine poise, soon to be brought down by fate. 

Ben Schultz (above, photographed by Melissa Sherwood) danced the athletic solo of Jason from CAVE OF THE HEART, Graham's take on the Medea legend. Dancing to music by William Schuman, Ben was a figure of towering masculine self-assurance, his iconic tattoos in full flourish.

Completing the Greek-themed triptych, a stunning scene from ERRAND INTO THE MAZE was performed by Ms. Landreau and Lloyd Mayor, seen above in Melissa Sherwood's photo. Though inspired by the story of Theseus, it is a woman that Martha Graham sends into the maze; there, she confronts her deepest fears, embodied by the mysterious Minotaur.

Lloyd Mayor, masked by a translucent caul, was creepily daemonic as he ruthlessly stalked his virginal prey. Ms. Landreau made a breathtaking impression in her solo, which was spectacularly danced. ERRAND INTO THE MAZE premiered in 1947; it is set to music by Gian Carlo Menotti. 

Leaping ahead over the decades, we find ourselves in Pontus Lidberg's WOODLAND, a 2016 creation set to a score by Irving Fine. Two couples appear in this double-duet: Ms. Landreau with Mr. Schultz, and Jacob Larsen with Mr. Pagano. The same-sex pairing are on the same footing as the male/female couple, and no one bats an eyelash; we're in the 21st century, after all. The piece was handsomely danced, making me regret having missed it when it premiered. Perhaps there will be another chance. 

The program ended with a sneak-preview of SECULAR GAMES, a 1962 Graham ballet to music by Robert Starer that the Company are currently rehearsing for a revival. In a scene entitled Play with thought - on a Socratic Island, the six shirtless men - Ben Schultz, Lorenzo Pagano, Lloyd Knight, Lloyd Mayor, Alessio Crognale, and Jacob Larsen - toss a bright, silvery ball about.

Our curiosity more than piqued, we look forward to seeing what else SECULAR GAMES brings us when the  Martha Graham Dance Company have their season at The Joyce: April 2nd thru 14th, 2019.

Although tonight's program was entitled Martha's Men, I can't resist adding a solo portrait of Charlotte Landreau, from NY Dance Project, above. I'm sure none of the gentlemen will object.

~ Oberon

DiDonato/Nézet-Séguin/Philadelphia Orchestra

~ Author: Oberon

Tuesday November 13th, 2018 - Mezzo-soprano Joyce DiDonato joined The Philadelphia Orchestra this evening at Carnegie Hall, performing Ernest Chausson's lush and haunting Poème de l'amour et de la mer; masterworks by Wagner and Respighi were on the bill, as well as a New York premiere from composer Mason Bates. Yannick Nézet-Séguin was on the podium. It was a concert filled with attractions, but overall it didn't quite gel.

Starved as we are for Wagner these days, hearing the prelude to LOHENGRIN tonight was a godsend. It's been twelve years since this opera's been performed at The Met. And it's in the opera house that this score - and most especially its prelude - is best experienced. The idea of playing this music as the opening work in a symphony-concert setting seems wonderful in theory, but in practice it works less well. In a lighted concert hall, the audience is still settling in, with attendant coughing and rustling, whereas a darkened opera house has a quieting effect on the crowd, so that the sound of the ethereal, high, hushed strings steals directly into the soul.

Tonight the Philadelphia players did not quite attain the pure, gossamer quality of the music's first, hesitant measures; and Maestro Nézet-Séguin's pacing was just a shade too fast for the music to make its finest effect. As things became more expansive, the orchestra sounded magnificent. But my mind strayed back to The Met, where I heard such conductors as Karl Böhm, Berislav Klobučar, Philippe Auguin, and - most memorably - James Levine give this music a mystical glow.

I first heard the music of Mason Bates when tenor Will Ferguson programmed the then-fledgling composer's  cycle Songs From The Plays at his Juilliard recitals. This evening, some fifteen years on, Bates' Anthology of Fantastic Zoology was given its New York premiere. This 30-minute work was commissioned by the Chicago Symphony in 2015 and recorded by that orchestra under Riccardo Muti's baton.

A vast array of percussion instruments are in play in this eleven-movement work. Each movement is titled ("Sprite", "Nymphs", "The Gryphon", and so forth), but I soon gave up trying to figure out where one ended and the next began. The music abounds in colours and textures; it zings, burbles, chirps, swoops, thunders, and thrums as it veers from quiet mystery to cinematic vastness. And the Philadelphians played it in dead earnest, to fabulous sonic effect. Timpanist Don Liuzzi deserves a gold medal for his epic performance.

During this panoramic piece, I noticed that the other writers around me seemed to stop taking notes, and a couple of them fell asleep. A long, meandering 'adagio' section found other audience members near me nodding off. Later they were jolted back to reality; the composer then gives us an endless ending. 

Mr. Bates was given a warm reception, and he was urged up onto the podium by Nézet-Séguin. A cheering section, possibly from Philadelphia, were very vocal in their appreciation of the composer and the work. I'll be curious to read what other writers have to say. For me, it seemed impressive rather than savourable. 

I wish Ernest Chausson's Poème de l'amour et de la mer was programmed more frequently. This evening marked only my second opportunity to hear it performed live - the first being by Dame Felicity Lott, with the Orchestre de la Suisse Romande on tour at the University of Connecticut in Storrs in 1995. Just last week, I was recalling my first-ever experience of hearing this gorgeous score, on a tape from the BBC.

The poems, by Maurice Bouchor, are clearly the words of a man speaking of parting from his (female) beloved. Indeed, the first performance of Poème de l'amour et de la mer was given at Brussels in 1893,  with the composer accompanying tenor Désiré Demest in his own arrangement for piano. It has been recorded by such baritones as François Le Roux and Gérard Souzay, but in concerts nowadays is invariably sung by a woman.

The great contralto Marguerite Matzenauer sang the Carnegie Hall premiere of the work in 1918, conducted by Leopold Stokowski. Matzenauer was a full-fledged Wagnerienne, singing everything from Erda to Isolde. Tonight, a mezzo-soprano of lighter timbre took on the Chausson music: Joyce DiDonato.

Ms. DiDonato, an enormously popular singer, looked striking in an emerald green gown, shoulders bare. Unfortunately, she tripped twice on her way to the podium, next to which a music stand had been installed for her. She did not seem to rely on the score, but glanced at it from time to time. Otherwise, she tended to fix her gaze on the ceiling of the auditorium or - later - on the floor.

Maestro Nézet-Séguin, an evident lover of Wagner's music - to which this Chausson work is often compared - led his splendid musicians in a rich-hued performance. From time to time, the orchestra covered the singer, whose dramatic accents in the lower range seemed a bit overwrought but who sang the lyrical portions with affecting loveliness, tinged by sadness. Some of the higher notes in the vocal line sounded a bit tense, but the overall impression was most appealing. Ms. DiDonato's performance was very well-received, though hopes for an encore were not sustained.

Ottorino Respighi's Fountains of Rome, such familiar music, premiered at Rome in 1918, under Arturo Toscanini's baton; the great Maestro brought the piece to New York City the following year. Of this work, Respighi wrote: "In this symphonic poem, the composer has endeavored to give expression to the sentiments and visions suggested to him by four of Rome’s fountains, contemplated at the hour when their characters are most in harmony with the surrounding landscape, or at which their beauty is most impressive to the observer."

 

On tonight's program, the Respighi was the piece I least expected to enjoy; in the event, I loved it: the orchestra played sumptuously, and Maestro Nézet-Séguin was very much in his element.

 

~ Oberon

Musica Viva NY @ All Souls Church

"At the 11th hour of the 11th day of the 11th month of 1918, World War I – the Great War – ended." 

~ Author: Oberon

Sunday November 11th, 2018 - This evening, at All Souls Church, Musica Viva NY and the New Orchestra of Washington marked the 100th anniversary of the end of World War I with a beautiful and deeply moving program. The acoustic at All Souls is a marvel: voices fill the air with effortlessly wonderful sound, and experiencing Maurice Ravel's Le Tombeau de Couperin there gave me the sensation of sitting among the musicians. This immediacy gave the entire program a feeling of intense involvement.

Opening the concert, somewhat surprisingly, was an air by Radiohead honoring the memory of the longest-surviving soldier to serve in the Great War: Harry Patch (photo, above), who died in 2009 at the age of 111. Harry Patch (In Memory Of) begins eerily but soon develops a lovely lyricism. The orchestra plays a repetitive rhythmic phrase while tenor Shawn Bartels takes on the high-lying vocal line, showing fine use of piano/pianissimo. Passion rises, subsides, and then the music goes deep. The song ends on a long-sustained note with a slightly dissonant accompaniment.

Ravel's Tombeau de Couperin, so familiar to me from the Balanchine ballet of the same title, was given what can only be described as a gorgeous performance by the New Orchestra of Washington. Maestro Alejandro Hernandez-Valdez drew rich, warm sounds from the musicians: the strings are splendid, the solos wind players excellent (notably Stephen Key, oboe, and Lillian Copeland, English Horn), the harpist (Eric Sabatino) sublime. You've heard the term "surround-sound" - this is it!

Above: Cecil Coles

Not listed in the program today, an organ work by Cecil Coles - Cortège - was played by organist Trent Johnson as the singers of Musica Viva NY made their entrance. Coles (born in Scotland in 1888) became an assistant conductor at the Stuttgart Opera, and was the organist at St. Katherine's Church in that city. At the onset of the Great War, Coles signed up immediately and joined the Queen's Victoria Rifles, serving as the regimental band-leader. While on active service, Coles continued to compose, sending manuscripts back to Gustav Holst in England. On April 26, 1918, Coles was killed by a German sniper while retrieving bodies of fallen comrades from the field. He is buried in the British Military Cemetery at Crouy. Hearing Coles' music today sends me on a search mission for more.

With the black-clad choristers in place - each wearing a red poppy, for remembrance - a performance of a work new to me - Gustav Holst's Ode to Death - was devastating in its power and eerie expressiveness. It was composed the wake of World War I. Though he himself received a medical exemption from military service, Holst had composer-friends who served (Ralph Vaughan Williams) and died (George Butterworth) at the Western Front. The text of Ode to Death comes from a section of Walt Whitman’s 1865 elegy, “When Lilacs Last in the Dooryard Bloom’d,” which was originally written in mourning the death of President Abraham Lincoln. 

Harpist Eric Sabatino opens the work, with the chorus intoning the word "Come!" on a sustained tone. Marvelous harmonies abound, both from the instrumentalists and the singers, as the music expands, then subsides. Harp and basses inaugurate a march-like song, the timpani sounding and the organ maintaining a spiritual connection. The music turns rapturous, then amplifies again before ebbing to the sound of bells, and a lyrical song. Chimes are heard, Conor Nelson's flute summons the chorus sopranos, who sing with the harp. High violins brush the heavens, over plucked violas and celli. The music becomes cosmic - cinematic - only to dissolve into the ethereal, with harp and bells, and the chorus softly issuing a last summons on a prolonged, fading note: "Come!" A chilling moment.

Above: composer Joseph Turrin

The second half of the program was given over to American composer Joseph Turrin's cantata And Crimson Roses Once Again Be Fair, a co-commission by Musica Viva NY, the New Orchestra of Washington, and the Washington Master Chorale. It's a magnificent work, drawing for its texts on the writings of the 'War Poets', some of them famous, some forgotten.

While putting us in mind of the great choral masterpieces of Elgar, Howells, and Parry, as well as of Vaughan-Williams' Sea Symphony and - of course - of Britten's War Requiem, Mr. Turrin's epic cantata shows his own excellence in writing music - both moving and finely-crafted - for instruments and voices alike. And Crimson Roses Once Again Be Fair deserves a place of pride in the repertory of choral groups worldwide.

A tumult of bells and chimes opens the cantata, followed by a dirge. Rich harmonies are developed in the first poem/movement: Let us remember Spring will come again - May 1915, by Charlotte Mew. While the poem offers hope to the bereaved, the poetess herself eventually committed suicide.

Rousing and passionate, commencing with with Chris Carrillo's trumpet, Rejoice, Friends! That we are alive (poem by Bruno Frank) has a syncopated feel and grows in amplitude. 

Siegfried Sassoon's Bombardment is thoughtful and gloomy, with Mr. Nelson's flute sounding forlorn. There is a powerful build-up, then a false calm surrounds the poem's final lines: 

"The fifth day there came a hush;
We left our holes
And looked above the wreckage of the earth
To where the white clouds moved in silent lines
Across the untroubled blue."

An anonymous poem, At the Front, is propelled by the snare drum's marching beat. A thoughtful interlude, with flute and clarinet, as the soldiers wonder if they'll survive the war - and the rain - before the drum strikes up again and they all march away.

A career soldier's song - I am the Division Commander - is a lively, rhythmic setting of Alfred Lichtenstein's poem in which the officer states: " Would that there were an endless war..." It's a song loaded with irony.

Another Sassoon poem is the setting of Soliloquy - The Last Meeting. Poignant strings and a passage of wordless vocalise set the mood for the devastating opening lines: "I know that he is lost among the stars, and may return no more but in their light..."  The clear, lyric soprano of Laura Choi Stuart carries the solo lines, and Conor Nelson's flute brings a glimmer of light to the song's end.

Wilfred Owen, whose poetry Britten brought to the fore in his War Requiem, wrote Anthem for Doomed Youth. Joseph Turrin's use of parlando for the chorus here is powerful, as drums and bells provide a rocking syncopation. The violins sound restlessly, before a crashing end.

In Flanders Fields, to the cherished verses of John McCrae, is spine-tingling in its atmospheric use of the chorus's women singing in unison as concertmaster Rachel Shapiro weaves in ravishing violin passages. The women harmonize, then return to unison. The song reaches its dreamy end, leaving us bereft.

"We are the Dead. Short days ago

We lived, felt dawn, saw sunset glow,

    Loved and were loved, and now we lie,

        In Flanders fields."

A tumultuous orchestral interlude gradually winds down to the sound of the flute, and a fading march.

The human toll of war is vast and tragic, but in his poem Poor Dogs, Albert-Paul Granier movingly brings to mind the fate of domesticated canines, left lost and masterless by war's devastation. Set as an a capella hymn, this was one of the most moving parts of the cantata because it's something we'd likely never think about, really. It gives fresh meaning to the phrase "the dogs of war..."  Another Grenier poem, The Mortars, is huge and urgent.

Those who have seen the film Testament of Youth will be familiar with Vera Brittain: poetess, wartime nurse, activist. Her Elegy/Perhaps bears the burden of loss, the poem sung as a haunting lullabye by mezzo-soprano Barbara Dever. Ms. Dever, whose powerful performances of Amneris and Ulrica at The Met I fondly recall, sings softly over poetic, restless undercurrents from the strings. The singer touches fleetingly on deep, burnished low tones; her singing is moving and sincere.

In the end, Mr. Turrin returns to Let us remember Spring will come again, the Charlotte Mew poem heard at the cantata's start. The music gets quite grand, but quietens as it reaches its end. The words of the poetess now seem full of resignation: "At one with Love, at one with Grief, blind to the scattered things and the changing skies."

I left the church and walked across Central Park in the fading twilight. Many memories filled me: memories of people now lost to me thru death, or - worse - thru fate.

~ Oberon

Michelangelo Quartet @ Weill Hall

Above: the Michelangelo Quartet

~ Author: Brad S Ross

Friday November 9th, 2018 - It was an evening of superb classics Friday night at Carnegie Hall’s Weill Recital Hall.  Visiting from Europe was the Michelangelo Quartet, the distinguished string quartet best known for performing and recording numerous string quartets by Beethoven, Haydn, and Mozart, among others.  The group comprises the violinists Mihaela Martin and Daniel Austrich, the violist Nobuko Imai, and the cellist Frans Helmerson.  Due to illness, however, Austrich was substituted by the young violinist Stephen Waarts — an established soloist in his own right.  Nothing was out of place when the performers took the stage, however, and they played with the uncanny familiarity one could only expect from the most seasoned professionals.

Above: Stephen Waarts

The concert opened on Joseph Haydn’s String Quartet in D-major, “The Lark,” composed in 1790.  The Father of the String Quartet certainly lived up to his reputation with this stately entry from the second set of “Tost” quartets, named in honor of the Hungarian violinist Johann Tost who aided Haydn in finding a publisher for the works.  The quartet begins on an upbeat Allegro moderato throughout which Mihaela Martin’s first violin aptly imitated the work’s titular bird.  This was followed by a tender Adagio cantabile, a brief Menuetto: Allegro, and a spirited Vivace that brought the work to its close.  Its warm and familiar tonalities being completely emblematic of the Classical era, this was an elegant and pleasing way to start the evening.

Bringing the music forward nearly a century, next up was the Czech composer Bedřich Smetana’s String Quartet No. 1 in E-minor, “From My Life,” composed in 1876.  Written during the composer’s waning later years, a period which also produced the famous set of symphonic poems Má vlast (“My Fatherland”), the semi-autobiographical “From My Life” reflects a period of great sadness in the Smetana’s life as his hearing slowly began to fail.  The quartet opens on a haunting Allegro vivo appassionato, an expression of the romantic spirit of his early years.  Next is a pulsing Allegro moderato à la polka, reflecting the composer’s fond memories of dance.  Frans Helmerson’s moving cello solo opened the bittersweet Largo sostenuto, a tribute to the happiness of first love.  Finally, an excited Vivace, celebrating his “discovery of the essence of national music,” brought the quartet to a close with effectively quiet coda — a tragic reflection of the composer’s impending deafness.

After a short intermission was the final item of the program:  Béla Bartók’s String Quartet #1 in A-minor, composed between 1908 and 1909.  Like his Violin Concerto No. 1, the string quartet was partially inspired by the composer’s unrequited love for the young Hungarian violinist Stefi Geyer.  Geyer did not return Bartók’s feelings and thus rejected the concerto, which went unperformed until after both of their deaths.  Written in the shadow of this rejection, the First Quartet is cast in three somber movements played without pause.  It opens on a dark Lento, which the composer himself described as “funeral dirge,” that incorporates the same four-note motif for Geyer that had appeared in the First Violin Concerto.  This was followed by a brooding and pulsing Allegretto leading to a pensive and meditative Introduzione.  The quartet closed on an agitated and sinister Allegro vivace that ends on three unresolved fortissimo strikes, bringing the work to its unsettling conclusion.

The Michelangelo Quartet played with perfection and were rightly met with considerable and lingering applause.  After two enthusiastic curtain calls, the players returned for an encore performance of the Lento from Dvořák’s “American” String Quartet No. 12 in F-major.  Composed the same year as his famous Ninth Symphony From the New World, the "American" Quartet possess all of the warm tonalities and longing, expansive melodies that would come to define the sound of American music with such composers as Virgil Thomson and Aaron Copland.  The somber Lento is easily one of the more memorable movements, so its no wonder why the members of the Michelangelo Quartet would chose this as their encore.  Its elegiac closing, which seemed to linger in the air long after the players stopped bowing, made for a haunting postlude to the program for those audience members who stayed for the initial applause.  It was a lovely way to sign off the night.

~ Brad S Ross

St Lawrence Quartet|Inon Barnatan @ Zankel Hall

Above: the St. Lawrence String Quartet; photo by Marco Borggreve. From left, Owen Dalby (violin), Lesley Robertson (viola), Geoff Nuttall (violin), and Christopher Costanza (cello)

~ Author: Oberon

Thursday November 8th, 2018 - Pianist Inon Barnatan joined the St. Lawrence String Quartet onstage for a performance of the Shostakovich Piano Quintet this evening at Zankel Hall; earlier in the program, the St. Lawrence played quartets by Haydn and Beethoven. It was a spellbinding night of music-making: I was glued to every note and nuance.

The St. Lawrence Quartet are a fearless and fabulous band of musicians; their playing has great immediacy, with traces of grittiness. Their individual voices and personalities might seem unlikely to form an alliance, yet their blend is finely-integrated and has a vivid freshness. Ever aware of the inherent drama of the works on offer, they never settle for simply making beautiful music together; they also find beauty in unlikely places. And, most of all, they make the music feel important. Which it is.

At the start of the Haydn String Quartet in G-Minor, Op. 20, No. 3, I was not at all sure I was going to like the St. Lawrence: they seemed too quirky. But I soon realized that their way with Haydn is exactly what's needed to make the composer's music - which often seems just superficially attractive to me - live and breathe.

 

The nice, dusky cello sound of Christopher Costanza was the first voice to lure me. The Haydn's opening Allegro con spirito seems witty, thanks to cleverly-timed pauses along the way. By the time the Menuetto commenced, the blend of the four instruments had settled in, and their courtly dance was evocative.

 

After a pause, the Poco adagio was superbly rendered: it has the feeling of a chorale, with the cellist as soloist. Passion builds, and the playing of the foursome  becomes exceptionally gorgeous. This was one of my favorite Haydn experiences to date. Then the minor-key Allegro di molto springs forth: lovely energy and cunningly-placed subtle bits swept us on to the finish, with the players re-called by a very attentive and appreciative audience. 

 

Beethoven's last quartet, in F-Major, Op. 135, might have been the highlight of the concert, were it not for the ensuing Shostakovich...or the Schumann encore, for that matter. It was essentially one great evening of highlights.

 

From its hesitant start, the opening Allegretto of the opus 135 is full of little surprises. And also a bit of rambling, though no one can ramble like Beethoven. In the Vivace that follows, the St Lawrence's playing is so engaging and...alive!...and they are so engrossing to watch, as when they started sawing away at one dramatic point. The Allegretto's brisk ending finds a perfect contrast in the building of a chord which opens the ensuing Lento assai. A deep, lullabye-like theme, so haunting, brings forth heartfelt sonorities from the players, with the cello's depth of tone burrowing into my soul. There are touching hesitations before the hymn-like beauty of the movement's conclusion. 

 

The opening of the final Grave is almost reluctant, with dramatic pauses, but then the Allegro suddenly springs up. Some of this music sounds really avant garde - the violins almost alarming - in a way that we referred to in the 1960s as "far out". But then we re-bound back to the 19th century, with some genial plucking.

 

Fervent applause yet again, with a "curtain call" that brought many audience members to their feet.

Above: pianist Inon Barnatan

In recent seasons, Inon Barnatan has given us some magnificent musical experiences - his 2016 Gaspard de la Nuit at Chamber Music Society was a genuine knockout - and tonight his performance in the Shostakovich Piano Quintet was full of marvels, and perfectly aligned with the St. Lawrence's daring vision of the work.

From the very first notes, Mr. Barnatan's remarkable playing set this performance of the Shostakovich on a trajectory that placed it among the most memorable musical events in recent seasons. Passionate playing from the strings drew us deeper and deeper into the piece. Lesley Robertson's viola resonates glowingly over a Bach-like piano figure. A high-lying passage from Geoff Nuttall's violin and more beauty from Mr. Costanza's cello lead to a dramatic outburst, and a full stop.

Muting his violin, Mr. Nuttall commences the Fugue, taken up by Owen Dalby (2nd violin), and then in turn by the cello, and viola. The piano enters, deep and pensive. Passion rises; Mr. Barnatan and Mr. Costanza have solo phrases, then Mr. Nuttall's violin sings wistfully over a sustained cello tone. The movement ends on a lingering chord.

The very familiar theme that opens the Scherzo: Allegretto made me want to get up and dance. The piano is light, the violin perky; then everyone digs in. High and insistent, the piano irritates; there's lots of pinging notes and plucking strings. The cello runs restlessly up and down scales, then the joke has a sudden punchline.  

Mr. Nuttall's violin sounds forlorn over the plucking cello as the Intermezzo begins. From the keyboard, Mr. Barnatan brings a sense of mystery; the violin's high, and the cello deep. A violin solo - so poignant - follows, then the piano's rhythm invokes the sound of footsteps. In this movement, I'm reminded of  Prokofiev's Opus 19 and Stravinsky's Duo Concertant.  It finishes sublimely, the violin in the heavens.

A jazzy blend introduces the final Allegretto, with strutting violins giving an à l'Espagnole flavour. Later, the music has the feel of a grand Polonaise. The piano calms things down, then searing strings bring a return of the 'Spanish' motif. After a last violin solo, the quintet reaches a jazzy ending.

Called back by house-filling applause, the St Lawrence Quartet and Mr. Barnatan gave a joyous performance of the Scherzo from Robert Schumann's piano quintet. As the artists returned for another bow, I sensed a pent up passion in the crowd, so I emitted an opera-house 'bravo!', and sure enough, the dam burst and everyone started yelling. The audience were sent home in high spirits after a splendid concert.

~ Oberon

Persson|McGill @ The NY Philharmonic

Above: soprano Miah Persson, photographed by Monika Rittershaus

~ Author: Oberon

Wednesday November 7th, 2018 - Music of Schubert and Beethoven soothed the spirit after all the stress of the mid-term election frenzy. The stress continues, and music remains the best antidote. The Philharmonic played sumptuously all evening under the baton of Iván Fischer.

The Schubert symphonies, musically impeccable as they are, don't really send me. Tonight, the composer's very pleasant Fifth Symphony (1816) put me as close as I have ever come to falling asleep in the concert hall. This had nothing to do with the conducting or the playing, but simply that - to me - this is music that stays on the surface, however lovely that surface might be.

In music that radiates optimism, Maestro Fischer let the composer's songfulness fill the hall. Robert Langevin's flute playing - as ever - fell graciously on the ear. The symphony wends its way onward, with momentary musical shadows quickly dispelled and Springtime freshness prevailing. Overall, I felt a bit like I was being served dessert first. Not a bad thing, really; but in my old age, my taste for sweets has become less keen.

Above: Anthony McGill, the Philharmonic's principal clarinetist, playing at the Temple of Dendur

Anthony McGill and soprano Miah Persson then took the stage for Franz Schubert's Shepherd on the Rock. Ms. Persson has had such an important career that it's somewhat embarrassing for me to say that this evening was my first experience of hearing her live. In fact, incredibly enough, I had not heard her voice at all until earlier this year when I watched a DVD of the Glyndebourne production of Britten's TURN OF THE SCREW in which the soprano gives an excellent performance as The Governess.

In the TURN OF THE SCREW production mentioned above, Miah Persson appears as a rather prim and proper brunette; this evening at the Philharmonic, she swept onstage: a comely blonde looking classically elegant in her gown of a distinctive shade of blue. The dapper Mr. McGill was at Maestro Fischer's right hand as the Philharmonic premiere of Shepherd on the Rock, arranged for large ensemble by Carl Reinecke, commenced.

From the start, I must say, Reinecke's orchestration did this Schubert jewel no favors. A fluffed entry from the horns did not auger well, and in general the layers of sound and internal movement obliterated the simple charm of the music in its voice-clarinet-piano setting, which was so marvelously rendered at Chamber Music Society in 2016. But Mr. McGill's sustained-tone entry, so luminous a note that I felt I might burst into tears, set things to rights.

Throughout the piece, the master clarinetist gave the music a pearly lustre, with ravishing dynamic nuances and coloratura cascades filled with limpid light. Few sounds that I have experienced caress the ear to such sheer delight as that of Anthony McGill's clarinet.

Ms. Persson meanwhile was making a marvelous effect in this music. Her voice is more of a full lyric than a lyric-coloratura, and as such her sound fit ideally into the richer, denser canvas of the Reinecke arrangement. One felicitous phrase followed another, and she lent the vocal line an unusual depth of emotion with her dusky, expressive lower notes.

As the mood of the piece shifted, at In tiefem Gram verzehr ich mich!, Ms. Persson's vocal colourings and her intrinsic gift for dynamic modulation were simply sublime as she sang of her loneliness and longing; her softest notes were woven exquisitely into the vocal line. Time and again, this singer's voice gave me shivers of pleasure.

But then, things somehow went awry. Maestro Fischer introduced an up-sweeping tempo for the final strophe of the poem, and then accelerated further as the singer anticipates the Springtime. Where's the fire? The orchestral textures became muddied, and while Mr. McGill kept pace, Ms. Persson seemed a bit pressed, and her highest notes were too rushed and unsettled. Not quite the ending we might have hoped for. Enthusiastic applause, but not the type of pandemonium that might have erupted had a more reasonable tempo in the final passages been applied. 

For all that, Mr. McGill was sensational, and I am anxious to hear Ms. Persson again: I'm thinking she'd be the Marschallin we've been waiting for.

Above: Maestro Iván Fischer, photographed by Marco Borggreve

Fourth symphonies rule! The 4ths of Mahler, Brahms, Tchaikovsky, and Beethoven are all top favorites of mine. Tonight, with  Maestro Fischer on the podium for the Beethoven 4th, this less-favoured of the master's nine symphonies gave a lot of enjoyment. Unlike the opening Schubert, the broader emotional range of the Beethoven gives us more to think about, and to feel. 

Beethoven's Fourth was premiered at the Lobkowitz Palace in Vienna in March 1807; being a private concert, there are no first-hand reports of critical or audience reaction. Beethoven's use of a slow introduction makes a profound impression, its classicism intriguingly jarred by some pointed dissonances before embarking on an Allegro vivace, rich with melodies. As the music takes off, the Philharmonic's principal bassoonist Judith LeClair sets up a lively rhythmic figuration. Mssrs. McGill and Langevin, along with oboist Sherry Sylar, dot the music with charming solo bits, whilst the strings sound simply super. 

In the Adagio, the strings produce a sensation of rolling waves. Mr. McGill has a plush-toned solo, the bassoons a pulsing motif, and the violins a harmonized interlude. Mr. McGill intrigues us again, playing over plucked strings. The basses resonate, the horns give a burnished quality.

The ensuing Allegro vivace is neither fully a scherzo nor a minuet; it has a life of its own...and a witty end. Bustling strings in perpetual motion enliven the final Allegro, ma non troppo with its nod to Haydn and its quizzical little bassoon jest.

~ Oberon

American Composers Orchestra @ Zankel Hall

Above: composer Joan Tower

~ Author: Brad S Ross

Friday November 2, 2018 - Perhaps it is 2018, not 1992, that will someday be regarded as the real Year of the Woman.  Given the recent successes of many women in culture and politics and the advances of the #MeToo movement, women now seem to be a more powerful force than ever before.  Indeed, there were more than a few phenomenal women at Friday night’s concert of the American Composers Orchestra in Zankel Hall.  This included a performance of one of America’s most celebrated living composers, that dame of American classical music Joan Tower, and two world premieres by Valerie Coleman and Alex Temple.

The evening began with a performance of Joan Tower’s eventful Chamber Dance, a somewhat discursive 16-minute work for small orchestra written on a commission from the Orpheus Chamber Orchestra in 2006.  Despite its relatively short duration, Chamber Dance is packed with musical ideas that ranged from pensive meditations to propulsive orchestral bursts.  Its writing is firmly rooted in 20th century musical styles, sounding almost filmic during more dramatic moments, and features numerous solos to showcase the performers.  This occasionally got the better of the ACO musicians, however, who struggled with clarity during some of the work’s more technically demanding passages.

Tower, who this year celebrated her 80th birthday, showed a spunky sense of humor in an amusing post-performance talk with the ACO Artistic Director Derek Bermel during which she teased an upcoming commission with New York Philharmonic—her first solo commission from that orchestra.  This should come as exciting news to both fans of American classical music and the New York Philharmonic, which, despite being one of America’s flagship orchestras, has tended to favor more works by European composers in recent years.

Next up was the world premiere of Phenomenal Women by Valerie Coleman (above), a concerto for wind quintet and orchestra from which the program derived its name.  A native of Louisville, Kentucky, Coleman is known for her mastery in blending American musical styles with political or Americana themes—a mastery that was on full display Friday night.  Phenomenal Women was co-commissioned by the ACO and Carnegie Hall for the Imani Winds, a New York City-based wind quintet, which Coleman herself founded in 1997.  After an opening movement that included the entire quintet, the five subsequent movements were uniquely devoted to a single soloist.  Appropriately, each of these six movements is named after one (or many) phenomenal women.

The first movement, “Maya Angelou,” opened on sonorous, gospel-like cadences before a great crash signaled the work’s transition into exciting and more colorful terrain.  An energetic flute solo harkened to Angelou’s famous singing “caged bird” while jazzy rhythms and gestures further stated the movement’s deep roots in African American musical styles.  This was a electrifying way to open the concerto.

The second movement, named after the mathematician and longtime NASA employee Katherine Johnson whose work was critical to America’s endeavors in space exploration, featured virtuosic gestures by the oboist Mark Dover, whose playing was often punctuated with colorful arpeggios throughout the orchestra.  The third movement, named after the tennis star Serena Williams, sported a much softer soundscape—one that appropriately matched the warmth of Monica Ellis’s flawless bassoon technique.  The fourth movement, “Caravana,” which featured a wistful and elegant flute solo by Brandon Patrick George, was a highlight of the work, though somewhat less obvious in its title’s meaning—this being a salute to the caravans of immigrants, specifically women, coming to the United States in search of a better life.  The penultimate movement “Michelle Obama” featured Dvořák-like harmonies that complimented a warm horn solo by Jeff Scott. 

The final movement of the Coleman, named after the young boxer Claressa Shields, featured the clarinetist Mark Dover who brilliantly navigated the movement’s darker, almost frightening passages.  He was eventually joined by the other players of Imani Winds and a full-ensemble crescendo, followed by several great crashes, triumphantly announced the conclusion of Phenomenal Woman and a resoundingly successful world premiere.  It’s something that will demand to be heard many times again.

That must not be said, however, for the final work of the evening.  This was the world premiere of Three Principles of Noir, a song cycle by the young composer Alex Temple.  Temple, according to the composer’s bio, “writes music that distorts and combines iconic sounds to create new meanings, often in service of surreal, cryptic, or fantastical stories.”  In fairness, that description could be perfectly applied to Three Principles of Noir, a rather silly time travel fantasy about an historian’s ill-fated attempt to murder the ancestor of a professional rival.  What I wouldn’t call it is well-conceived, musically engaging (that’s why we’re here, isn’t it?), or just plain good.

The work’s musical voice is set rather fixedly in the realm of showtunes—indeed, much of the piece sounded like it could have been lost numbers from the musical Chicago.  It is curious for a story set in three different eras (present day, the late 19th century, and the distant future) that the composer did not take advantage of more musical possibilities.  Why not, for example, introduce a little cakewalk music for scenes set in the 1890s?  Why not play with modern pop clichés for scenes set in the present?  Why not try something wild and experimental for scenes set in the future?  Alas, the musical style went virtually unvaried throughout its entire twenty minute duration.

Much praise should be given to the all-in performance given by the vocalist Meaghan Burke, but the part itself, which is wordy past the point of being overwritten, is unrelenting, pausing only for long costume changes during the time travel sequences.  But, again, instead of applying any interesting musical gestures from the orchestra here, Temple opted for patched-in synthesizers, leaving the whole ensemble to sit quietly while Burke struggled to get in and out of her period attire.

In a pre-performance talk during which he warned about some foul language in Three Principles of Noir, ACO President Edward Yim described the cycle as “millennial.”  One can only hope that other members of this generation will heartily reject such uses of the term, which seemed here to represent little more than kitschiness, pretense, and vulgarity.  It was a frustrating way to send off an otherwise enjoyable evening of music at Carnegie Hall.

~ Brad S Ross

Anna Steiger Sings Chausson

Above: Anna Steiger

When I began rescuing recordings from my vast cassette collection and turning them into MP3s, one of the first transfers that I made was of a tape my friend Mollie had sent me of a 1985 BBC broadcast of soprano Anna Steiger singing Chausson's Poème de l'amour et de la mer, conducted by Norman Del Mar.

This recording is very special to me, firstly because the singing is so poetic, and secondly because it was the first time (incredibly) that I heard this gorgeous piece of music. The recording is one of the treasures of my collection. And now I am sharing it here:

Poème de l'amour et de la mer (Chausson) - Anna Steiger ~ Norman Del Mar ~ BBC 1985

Anna Steiger, the daughter of actors Claire Bloom and Rod Steiger, has sung a vast range of music throughout her career: from Monteverdi and Mozart to Britten, Janacek, and Weill. A winner of prestigious prizes and awards, she made her professional debut in 1984, going on to sing at Covent Garden, the ENO, Glyndebourne, Amsterdam, Stuttgart, La Fenice in Venice, Salzburg, Seattle, Los Angeles Opera, New York City Opera, and at BAM. 

In the 1990s she moved into mezzo-soprano territory, performing such gem roles as Magdalena in MEISTERSINGER, Marcellina in NOZZE DI FIGARO, and Auntie in PETER GRIMES. She lives in Paris, and is this season singing at Toulouse, Rennes, and Rouen.

Ms. Steiger is Despina on the Harnoncourt recording of COSI FAN TUTTE and Concepción on Sir Simon Rattle's recording of Ravel's L'HEURE ESPAGNOLE.

Anna Steiger's striking performance of Varèse's Offrandes, conducted by Pierre Boulez, may be seen here.

~ Oberon

Celebrating Francesca Todesco

Above: Francesca Todesco in Isadora Duncan's REVOLUTIONARY; photo by Julie Lemberger

~ Author: Oberon

Sunday November 4th, 2018 matinee - Francesca Todesco, a dancer whose performances in works by Isadora Duncan and Anna Sokolow have moved me in recent seasons, celebrated her twenty-year journey in New York City today with a program of danceworks in which she shared the stage with longtime colleagues in pieces choreographed by Isadora Duncan, Anna Sokolow, Catherine Gallant, Rae Ballard, and Jim May.

The performance took place in Speyer Hall, at University Settlement on Eldridge Street: kind of a long trek for me, but eminently worthwhile in the long run. In a finely-paced production, gorgeously lit and featuring live music from the excellent young pianist Nathaniel LaNasa, the value of seeing dance in an up-close-and-personal setting was again affirmed.

Dancers Rae Ballard, Eleanor Bunker, Ilana Cohen, Daniel Fetecua-Soto, Catherine Gallant, Samantha Geracht, Erika Langmeyer, Lauren Naslund, Loretta Thomas, and Margherita Tisato all participated in Francesca's fête today. The legendary Jim May appeared as The Poet in Anna Sokolow's IDEAS OF AN ACROBAT (from MAGRITTE, MAGRITTE).

Solo works by Anna Sokolow and Isadora Duncan opened the performance, with Francesca Todesco dancing the choreography of the two iconic female dancemakers with whom the dancer is closely associated. For Ms. Sokolow's POEM (1995), composer Bruno Belthoise wrote a new piano score (Poème) which is pensive to begin with, then begins to ripple. The dancer is quite still, her hands and arms slowly becoming animated. As the music rises in passion, she enfolds an empty embrace and then backs away.

Above: Improvisation to Brahms, photo from MeemsImages

While Ms. Todesco changed costumes, Mr. LaNasa played one of Johannes Brahms' piano solos from Opus 118 whilst all the women dancers filled the space in what seemed like an improvisational dance with sylphlike lightness and gestural language in the Duncan vein. As this interlude progressed, individual dancers would sometimes pause - close enough for me to reach out and touch - making me feel almost a part of the dance.

Above: Francesca Todesco in Isadora Duncan's HARP; photo by Julie Lemberger

The Isadora Duncan solo HARP (c. 1917) refers to the mythic Aeolian Harp and is danced to a Chopin étude. Now gowned in flowing white, with long draping sleeves, Ms. Todesco moves radiantly to the rippling piano music to and ecstatic ending. Simply gorgeous!

Above: Loretta Thomas and the ensemble rehearsing Isadora Duncan's POLONAISE MILITAIRE

Loretta Thomas led a quartet of women in Isadora Duncan's marvelous POLONAISE MILITAIRE (c. 1914), also set to Chopin. Eleanor Bunker, Ilana Cohen, Erika Langmeyer, and Margherita Tisato - all wearing classic Isadora tunic-style frocks - were excellent, and Ms. Thomas danced with distinctive authority. This work is an affirmation of feminine power and sisterhood.

Music of Chopin brought Ms. Todesco forth in two Isadora Duncan solos, NARCISSUS (1904) and MINUTE WALTZ (1905). In the first of these, Ms. Todesco - in a rose-shade over-tunic - moves expressively to the sad, familiar melody. As the tempo accelerates, she executes soft turns in place before taking a series of poses on the floor and finally collapsing.

In MINUTE WALTZ, Ms. Todesco is bathed in warm light; she begins to sway gently, then fills the space with restless, questing movement.

Above: Catherine Gallant, Eleanor Bunker, and Margherita Tisato in Catherine Gallant's WAVE; photo from MeemsImages

Catherine Gallant's WAVE (2001) continued in a Chopin mode (his Mazurka #43); from a statuary pose, three women - Ms. Gallant, Eleanor Bunker, and Margherita Tisato - dance a sisterly trio in an homage to Isadora. At its end, they resume their original pose. To all these Chopin works, Mr. LaNasa's playing brought freshness and verve.

For the piano four-hands pieces by Florent Schmitt used by Isadora Duncan for her 1914 work, REFLETS D'ALLEMAGNE, Isidora Vladic shared the keyboard with Mr. LaNasa. In the first of two excerpts, Lübeck, Eleanor Bunker, Catherine Gallant, and Loretta Thomas display the trademark movement motifs and gestures that define the Isadora style: their dancing has a natural grace and musical affinity. They are joined for Nuremburg by Ms. Tisato; fleeting solo passages here are lovingly communicative. 

Concluding the program's first half, Ms. Todesco had one of her dreams come true as she danced Jim May's 1985 duet SLEEPING BOUQUET, which she had first seen some 20 years ago and always wanted to dance. The only work today performed to recorded music (the familiarly romantic Adagio from the Rachmaninoff second piano concert), Ms. Todesco was partnered here by Daniel Fecetua-Soto, former Limón principal.

After the interval, there was a piano four-hands prelude to the program's second half: Mr. LaNasa and Ms. Vladic played Brahms' Hungarian Dance #8 in such a lively manner that I half-expected audience members to rise and kick up their heels. 

Above: Jim May in Anna Sokolow's IDEAS OF AN ACROBAT; photo from MeemsImages

Anna Sokolow's IDEAS OF AN ACROBAT (from MAGRITTE, MAGRITTE) is performed to a specially-composed piano work by Haziel Masiello. Jim May, standing directly before me in a suit and bowler à la Magritte, intones poetry by Paul Eluard with his hauntingly inflected voice as dancers Eleanor Bunker, Samantha Geracht, and Lauren Naslund perform a stylized, ritualistic dance. Spotlit, the women's shadows become part of the movement. The dancers become more animated, yet remain stationary for the most part. This atmospheric work ends in fading light.

Above: Daniel Fecetua-Soto and Francesca Todesco in Rae Ballard's FADOS DOS AMANTES; photo by Julie Lemberger

Two premieres with a Portuguese flavour are next, both choreographed by Rae Ballard - a name new to me. These were commissioned by Ms. Tedesco. In the first, FADOS DOS AMANTES (music by Eduardo Burnay and Alexandre Rey Colaço), a pair of lovers move thru various states of their relationship.

Ms. Todesco dances the first movement while Mr. Fecetua-Soto slumbers on the floor: Francesca wears a long black dress, sometimes giving her skirt a provocative twitch. The male solo is more searching, and more animated. The concluding duet shows the couple bound to each other, for better or worse.

Above: from Rae Ballard's PORTUGUESE SUITE; photo from MeeemsImages. From left: Ms. Ballard, Lauren Naslund, and Samantha Geracht

Rae Ballard's lyrical choreography for herself and Mlles. Geracht and Naslund in EXCERPT FROM PORTUGUESE SUITE is lovely to behold. They dance in silence, and also to music by Luis Costa. This excerpt is part of a work-in-progress to be premiered in 2019.

To conclude the program, Isadora Duncan's SCRIABIN ÉTUDES (1921-1923) were strikingly played by Mr. LaNasa and superbly danced by Ms. Todesco. In the course of the work's three movements, we can savour Francesca's gift for making emotional connections both to the music and to her audience. Clad in red, the dancer's expressive face and sublime use of gesture move from anxious animation thru the quiet despair of bereavement, to the embodiment of a passionate revolutionary: a woman who peers out at us and who utters a series of silent screams. 

Bouquets were presented as a lively standing ovation greeted Francesca and all her colleagues at the end of this truly wonderful performance.

~ Oberon