Oberon's Grove

CMS ~ Carnival of the Animals

Author: Oberon

Sunday May 15th, 2022 - The final program of the Chamber Music Society of Lincoln Center's 2021-2022 season...and what a season it has been! Great programs played by fantastic musicians for attentive, engaged, and enthusiastic audiences. This evening's program - and the line-up of musicians - gave great pleasure, from first note to last.

Above, the artists of the Miró Quartet: William Fedkenheuer, John Larges, Joshua Gindele, and Daniel Ching, in a Jeff Wilson photo. The Miró players, whether as an ensemble or as individuals, played a major role in the evening's success.

Opening the concert, Heinrich von Biber's Sonata representativa in A-major for Violin and Continuo, C. 146 (B. IV 184) (c. 1669) brought forth Mr. Fedkenheuer as solo violinist with Mr. Gindele's cello and Michael Stephen Brown at the harpsichord giving the continuo a fine polish. This sonata is in nine movements, some of them named for various birds and other creatures.

It opens with a stately Allegro, with fanfare-like passages. We then hear from the Nightingale, wherein the violinist executes flourishes of coloratura over sustained cello phrases. The cello plays the two-note Cuckoo motif next, followed by the slashing, discordant hops of The Frog. Cock and Hens starts slowly and then turns rapid and screechy. By contrast, the gracious Quail drew lovely playing from all three musicians. Then  Mr. Fedkenheuer had fun producing "meows" on his violin for the hilarious Cat. The gallant Musketeers March found Mr. Gindele drumming on his cello; the sonata ends with an elegant Allemande.

Soprano Erika Baikoff of he Metropolitan Opera Young Artists Program then appeared, in a striking creamy-white gown, to sing Handel's “Sweet Bird” for from L’Allegro, il Pensieroso ed il Moderato (composed 1740). The renowned flautist Tara Helen O'Connor provided the sweetest bird-calls imaginable whilst Mr. Gindele and pianist Lucille Chung (lovely in an aquamarine frock) were the continuo duo. The voice of Miss Baikoff, an excellent Xenia in the Met's BORIS GODUNOV earlier this season, at first seemed overly large and vibrant in the space; but she quickly found her footing, with some nimble fiorature and alluring straight tones. Ms. O'Connor's playing was simply enchanting.

The Miró Quartet then gave an exemplary performance of Franz Joseph Haydn's Quartet in D-major for Strings, Hob. III:63, Op. 64, No. 5, “The Lark”, dating from 1790) this quartet is known as “The Lark” because of the soaring, circling violin melody in the first movement, but that designation did not come from the composer.

The opening movement, Allegro moderato, finds Daniel Ching’s violin soaring sweetly over a graceful rhythm. Interesting harmonies spring up; after an agitato passage, the violin's "lark" theme returns. Speaking of harmonies, Haydn gives us some gorgeous ones in the Adagio cantabile, with Mr. Ching delivering the lyrical melodic line with serene grace. Mr. Gindele's cello sounds abundantly warm here.

The elegant Menuetto features touches of humour, and then we arrive at the Finale: Vivace, a brisk movement in which Mr. Ching dazzled us with his fast and fluent playing. The audience, clearly hanging on every note, burst into lively applause at the finish.

After the interval, Ms. Baikoff returned for Aaron Copland's brief and comical “I Bought Me a Cat” from Old American Songs, dating from 1950. This calls for the singer to make various animal sounds, which Ms. Baikoff did with good-natured enthusiasm. The song is over so soon, though, and surely the soprano merited another number: maybe Schubert's Die Forelle...?

The evening proceeded with a spectacular rendering of Claude Debussy's sensual masterwork, Prelude à l’après-midi d’un faune; the music was composed in 1892–94, with the arrangement given this evening dating from 1920.  What an ensemble the Society put together! It's hard to imagine a more spell-binding performance of this music.

Tara Helen O'Connor's astounding breath control allowed for flowing passages of soul-moving beauty and expressiveness. Her woodwind colleagues, Stephen Taylor (oboe) and Jose Franch-Ballester (clarinet) were equally impressive. Mr. Taylor, who so recently delighted me in a Bach cantata with the Orchestra of Saint Luke's at Carnegie Hall, and Mr. Franch-Ballestar, a handsome fellow indeed, both delivered their phrases tonight with a special glow. Lucille Chung was at the piano, playing rhapsodically, whilst Mr. Brown was seated at a small organ from which he summoned mellow sounds. Scott Pingel's rich-toned bass playing kept hitting my pleasure nerve at all the right moments, while the fellows from the Miró gave Debussy's string writing the lush treatment. Percussionist Ian David Rosenbaum gave the ensemble its final, subtle touch. I have had countless memorable musical experiences over the years, but this Faune is up there in the topmost echelon.

Scott Pingel's double-bass was rightly front-and-center for the concluding work, Camille Saint-Saëns' Le carnaval des animaux. Prevousy I had only heard this famous work at New York City Ballet, where Christopher Wheeldon's 2003 ballet set to this music played for a few seasons, and was taken up by other companies.

As the carnaval's fourteen movements unfolded before us tonight, there was so much to take in, and to savour, from the grand theatricality of the opening Royal March of the Lions, thru the slow and solemn Elephant, and the shimmering piano, strings, and flute of Aquarium, everything was superbly played. Mr. Franch-Ballester suddenly left the stage, only to be heard moments later from the wings, intoning the Cuckoo's two-note call, to the delight of the audience. Tremelo strings and Ms. O'Connor's flute gave us the charming Birds, whilst Pianists became a comedy routine. In the amusing Fossils, bits of "Twinkle, twinkle little star" and "Mon ami Pierrot" spring up, and Ayano Kataoka strikes up the xylophone. The poignant theme of The Swan was handsomely played by Mr. Gindele; people definitely wanted to applaud him when it ended, but they restrained themselves. In the Finale, Ms. OConnor took up the piccolo, to brilliant effect.

Update: some photos from this concert have just come my way; the photographer is Cherylynn Tsushima; click on each image to enlarge:

Above: William Fedkenheuer, Michael Brown, and Joshua Gindele playing Biber

Above, Tara Helen O'Connor, Lucille Chung, Joshua Gindele, and Erika Baikoff: "Sweet Bird"

Above: the Miró Quartet playing Haydn

Above: the players salute Tara Helen O'Connor after the Debussy

Above: "Carnival of the Animals"

Above: final bow, standing ovation

Many thanks to Beverly Greenfield of Kirschbaum Associates for the photos, and for arranging everything for me during the Chamber Music Society's 2021-2022 season.

~ Oberon

WOZZECK ~ Hamburg State Opera 1970

Above: Toni Blankenheim as Wozzeck

~ Author: Oberon

This specially-filmed production of Alban Berg's WOZZECK from the Hamburg Opera is sort of a companion piece to the same Company's MEISTERSINGER, which I raved about not long ago. Both performances seem to have been made expressly for television, and some of the same artists are involved, both in the production aspects and as singers.

While the MEISTERSINGER was ingeniously filmed in a vast studio space, WOZZECK has been filmed on location. The town seems to be an abandoned fortress area, very dreary; all the exterior scenes are heavy with palpable moisture, while the interiors are claustrophobic and sterile. The quality of the film is surprisingly high, as you can perhaps sense from the screen captures I have included here. 

The opera itself sounds simply thrilling; conductor Bruno Maderna (above) gives the score a darkling, lyrical glow whilst managing to honor all the angularity that makes it unique. The orchestra is superb, and the cast is fabulous.

Toni Blankenheim (above), a great Beckmesser in the MEISTERSINGER film, is just as impressive in the title-role of the Berg. His suffering is palpable, as is his inexpressible love for Marie. Harried and ordered about by the Captain and the Doctor, cheated on by Marie, and degraded by the Drum Major, Wozzeck is the epitome of the beaten man right from the start. Mr. Blankenheim makes him achingly real, and sings perfectly into the bargain.

Sena Jurinac (above) is a compellingly human Marie: vain, duplicitous, manipulative, and god-fearing all at once. She looks striking, although perhaps too neatly coiffed. I have never been a fan of Jurinac's singing, usually finding her strayings from pitch quite off-putting. Perhaps I should try listening to her again, because she certainly makes tremendous impression here. 

Above: Jurinac's flirtation - and eventual coupling - with the Drum Major (played by Richard Cassilly, above) sets up the opera's lurid climax.

It's a stellar cast all down the line: Hans Sotin (above), who went on to a long and glorious Wagnerian career, is simply perfect as the Doctor who uses Wozzeck as a guinea pig for his theoretical experiments in the field of nutrition...and urination. Sotin, who was my first full-Cycle Wotan/Wanderer, is chilling to watch and wonderful to hear.

As the Doctor's sidekick, the Captain, tenor Gerhard Unger (above, with Sotin) plays a character vastly different from his excellent David in the MEISTERSINGER film. Unger is a first-class character tenor...one who can really sing.

One of Wozzeck's few friends, the rather bumbling but good-natured Andres, is played by tenor Peter Haage. Blankenheim and Haage, above, in the desolate field of reeds, give a sense of the dreariness of their lives.

Later, at the tavern, Haage sings Andres's ballad in a happy/tipsy frame of mind (above).

At the crowded dance-hall/tavern, Marie's friend Margret (the very pretty Elisabeth Steiner, above) submits to Wozzeck's fondling whilst she sings her Swabia-lied.

In a tour de force performance, the great basso Kurt Moll (above) portrays the First Workman. He sings magnificently, and makes a most believable drunk. His boozing buddy, by the way, is none other than baritone Franz Grundheber.

Tenor Kurt Marschner (above, with Toni Blankenheim as Wozzeck) is a Gollum-like Madman; he gives off a disturbing air of being totally disconnected from reality.

Overall, this WOZZECK is thoroughly absorbing, both musically and dramatically. I've watched it twice already...and will come back to it, for sure.

As I have recently learned, the WOZZECK and MEISTERSINGER are part of a ten-DVD set of operas specially produced in Hamburg around 1970. 

Author: Oberon

Sutherland/Domingo - Philadelphia 1970

A concert given by Dame Joan Sutherland and Placido Domingo at Philadelphia in 1970; Eugene Ormandy is the conductor.

Listen here.

Teresa Berganza Has Passed Away

Although I never saw her onstage in opera or recital, the voice of Teresa Berganza has been a favorite of mine since I first heard her recording of Cleopatra's lament, Piangerò la sorte mia, from Handel's GIULIO CESARE on an old cassette many years ago.

Watch and listen here.

Ms. Berganza was born in Madrid in 1935 and made her debut as a concert artist in 1955; she gave recitals throughout Europe before making her operatic debut as Mozart's Dorabella at Aix-en-Provence in 1957. She appeared at La Scala, L'Opera de Paris, Covent Garden, Glyndenbourne, and Dallas, and made her Metropolitan Opera debut in 1967 as Rossini's Rosina, later appearing there as Cherubino. Meanwhile, she continued to maintain a busy recital schedule, frequently with her husband Félix Lavilla at the piano.

Among her roles were Rossini's Cenerentola and Isabella (ITALIANA IN ALGERI), Neris in Cherubini's MEDEA, and Charlotte in Massenet's WERTHER; she also enjoyed a great personal success as Carmen. Ms. Berganza plays Zerlina in Joseph Losey's film of Mozart's DON GIOVANNI.

A truly beloved artist, Teresa Berganza left us with many beautiful recordings; here are two of my favorite tracks:

Teresa Berganza - Parto parto ~ LA CLEMENZA DI TITO

Teresa Berganza - Sta nell'Ircana pietrosa tana - ALCINA

Beatrice Rana: Schumann/Liszt ~ Widmung

Beatrice Rana plays the Schumann/Liszt Widmung as an encore at her 2017 concert at the BBC Proms.

Watch and listen here.

L.A. Dance Project @ The Joyce

Above: from Janie Taylor's Night Bloom

Wednesday May 11th, 2022 - L.A. Dance Project bringing two works by female choreographers to The Joyce: Bobbi Jene Smith’s 2021 Solo at Dusk, choreographed in collaboration with Or Schraiber, and Janie Taylor's Night Bloom.

My previous experience with Bobbi Jene Smith's work was the Martha Graham Company's 2019 production of Deo, which I loved in the studio but which lost something in the theatre due to a poor lighting scheme which left the dancers quite literally dancing in the dark. Since for me the individual power and beauty of dancers is a key component in watching dance, the piece lost much of its appeal onstage.

Tonight, a small audience sat - or slept - thru Solo At Dusk - "a dance for seven individuals in the throes of loss, memory, and rediscovery..." which is performed to music/sound design by Alex Somers, featuring cellist Gyða Valtýsdóttir, with the dancers wearing face-concealing flower-masks designed and created by Janie Taylor.

Janie Taylor is seen seated at a lamp-lit table where she is listening to old records on a small turntable. The music, all of it slow, summons up memories, and six dancers appear before the woman as if in a dream. It is a long, dreary dream, occasionally enlivened by bursts of movement. This went on for about forty minutes, during which I thought about all the things I could have been doing with the time instead, while my companion contemplated suicide. Dutiful applause followed, with a couple of people trying to whoop it up...to no avail.

Janie Taylor, one of my idols when she danced as a Principal Ballerina at New York City Ballet, has recently started to choreograph. Her ballet Night Bloom felt like a revelation tonight after the emptiness of the opening work.

Everything about Night Bloom delighted me, starting with the score: Stravinsky's brilliant Concerto for Two Solo Pianos, dazzlingly played "live" for us by Adam Tendler and Jessica Xylina Osborne. Onstage, large moveable geometric forms - rectangles, triangle, and circle - are deftly shifted about the stage by the dancers, constantly creating new settings. The space feels big and bright, and so does the choreography: much of it straight out of ballet but with a contemporary edge. The dancers, in simple blue or black costumes, are magnificent movers, and they seemed to be savouring the combinations that Janie has given them whilst moving to Stravinsky's stimulating score.

Highlights of Night Bloom included a flowing, lyrical duet for Daisy Jacobson and David Adrian Freeland Jr, and an expressive solo impressively danced by Shu Kinouchi; together with Daphne Fernberger, Lorrin Brubaker, and Vincius Silva, they kept Night Bloom blooming from start to finish; the dancers and pianists were enthusiastically cheered as this mood-elevating Taylor/Stravinsky gem came to an end.  

~ Oberon

Paul Schöffler ~ Wotan's Farewell

The great German bass-baritone Paul Schöffler sings Wotan's Farewell from Wagner's DIE WALKURE.

Listen here.

Igor Levit/NY Phil ~ Brahms & Bartók

Above: pianist Igor Levit, photo by Peter Meisel

Author: Ben Weaver

Friday May 6th, 2022 - Johannes Brahms’ Piano Concerto No. 1 in D-minor, completed in 1858 and premiered a year later with the composer at the piano, was not a success upon its debut, but over time this highly emotional and Romantic concerto - arguably the grandest in the repertoire - has become one of the most beloved on the concert stage. Brahms took many decades to complete his 1st Symphony because he was afraid to tread in Beethoven’s steps. But with his 1st Piano Concerto - another genre Beethoven dominated - Brahms definitely took Beethoven’s Emperor and elevated the form to new heights. The scale and difficulty of this work also make it something of a rarity in the concert hall. 

Though Russian-born pianist Igor Levit has played at Carnegie Hall many times, he was making his NY Philharmonic debut on May 6, 2022 with Brahms’ towering masterwork, led by NY Philharmonic’s music director Jaap van Zweden. An intense and probing pianist, Levit also has the power and the stamina to make an impact in this heavily orchestrated piece. To maestro Zweden’s credit he understands the orchestration can work against the solo instrument and managed to keep the orchestra from swamping Mr. Levit. But perhaps Zweden silenced the orchestra a bit too much. The grand, heaven-storming opening of the concerto was energetic, but under-powered. Fortunately the balance between the orchestra and Levit improved as the piece progressed. The power in Levit’s hands - and his judicious use of the pedal - kept the Steinway always audible. Mr. Levit is not an emotionally overwrought performer, he keeps emotions in check, but that does not detract from his soulful playing. I often think of Maurizio Pollini when I hear him play. The gentleness of the Adagio movement was gorgeously articulated, and also crystal clear. Perhaps he lost the shape of the final moments of the movement with a ponderous tempo, but the galvanizing energy of the Rondo was dazzling. The audience greeted Mr. Levit very warmly with a standing ovation. As an encore he performed what I believe was one of Ferruccio Busoni’s arrangements of Bach: a somber and beautiful piece, which was performed with a moving thoughtfulness and weight.

Whatever seemed to be missing from Maestro Zweden and the orchestra during the Brahms concerto was not an issue in Béla Bartók’s beloved Concerto for Orchestra, composed for the Boston Symphony Orchestra and Serge Koussevitsky in 1943. This is a piece that the NY Philharmonic can really sink its collective teeth into, and nobody disappointed. Bartók’s great work gives every section of the orchestra a chance to shine, starting with the growling double basses (an instrument that generally deserves more solo attention, I think.) Bouncing from the various string sections (led by concertmaster Frank Huang) to winds to brass to percussion to harps, Bartók - already in very poor health when he composed the work - provides a dazzling palette of melodies and sounds, sometimes paying homages to other composers (in the Intermezzo he parodies Shostakovich’s 7th Symphony, but there’s also something of the Mahlerian switch from earnestness to mocking cacophony), and occasionally even to himself: the Elegia could have been lifted directly from his own Blubeard’s Castle. Here was an all around thrilling performance of a magnificent work.

~ Ben Weaver

TURANDOT @ The Met

Above, a Marty Sohl/Met Opera photo from Act II of TURANDOT; click on the image to enlarge

Saturday May 7th, 2022 matinee - TURANDOT is one of my top-ten operas. I first saw it at the Old Met in 1965, with Mary Curtis-Verna, Jess Thomas, Lucine Amara, and Bonaldo Giaiotti in the main roles. Since then, I have seen it many times, both at The Met and in the New York City Opera's lovely Beni Montresor production...and once in Boston, with Eva Marton singing the title-role for the first time in her career.

This afternoon's Met matinee brought together an interesting group of singers; I did not mind in the least that Anna Netrebko had been removed from the cast: aside from her Met debut role as Natasha in WAR AND PEACE, I've never found Netrebko to be compelling as either singer or actress.  

Sadly, today's was a disappointing TURANDOT, mainly because of Marco Armiliato's lacklustre conducting. For a conductor of such vast experience, he often seemed unaware of what would best support the singers in terms of tempo and orchestral volume, so that stage and pit were at times sadly out of sync. 

Netrebko's replacement, the Ukrainian soprano Liudmyla Monastyrska, has been good Santuzza and Aida here...and a very good Tosca; but her vibrato seems to have widened since I last heard her. Her 'quiet' approach to the opening passages of "In questa reggia" was interesting, and Armiliato gave her good support here; but the vibrato was intrusive. Her most thrilling moments came in the two high-Cs over the chorus at "Mi vuoi nelle tue braccia a forza, riluttante, fremente?"

Above, in a Marty Sohl/Met Opera photo: Yonghoon Lee as Calaf, Ferruccio Furlanetto as Timur, and Ermonela Jaho as Liu

Yonghoon Lee, in my book the handsomest Calaf since Corelli, has a strong voice - and he needed it, with Mr. Armiliato sending up big sounds from the pit, often driving the tenor to force rather than singing naturally. Lee's "Non piangere Liu" in Act I went well, and was quite moving; and he could have made a great effect with his "No, no, Principessa altera! ti voglio ardente d’amor!" after winning the riddle game, had not the conductor decided to up the orchestral volume at that point. But Mr. Lee turned his generous offer to Turandot at "Il mio nome non sai! Dimmi il mio nome...prima dell’alba! E all’alba morirò!" into a moment of real poetry...very touching, and the most memorable moment of the performance.

Ferruccio Furlanetto was a sometimes cantankerous Timur, his voice strong and declamatory. There has always been a little sob in the Furlanetto sound, and he used it to fine effect today. As the big ensemble that closes Act I grew louder and louder, you could still hear the basso clearly, begging his son not to attempt Turandot's riddles.

Ermonela Jaho, an old-school verismo soprano in the Olivero/Kabaivanska tradition - and a magical Butterfly here in 2018 - was wonderfully expressive in Liu's music. Her voice has become very fluttery now,  but her exquisitely floated B-flat at "Perché un dì...nella reggia, mi hai sorriso." was heaven-sent, as was her sublime ending of the "Signore, ascolta", though Armiliato could have been more attentive here.

Jeongcheol Cha was an impressive Mandarin, and Carlo Bosi a touchingly-sung Altoum, projecting as best he could from Amsterdam Avenue. Alexey Lavrov, Tony Stevenson and Eric Ferring as Ping, Pang, and Pong respectively, did well in their Act II scene, but Armiliato seemed to gloss over their music indifferently; the orchestra writing here is wonderfully vivid and subtle, but it needs an imaginative conductor to make its finest effect.

The interminable first intermission that Gelb has devised (45 minutes!) always kills the impetus of Puccini's carefully-crafted music. Having lost our patience with Armiliato in Act II - and even though I wanted to hear Lee's "Nessun dorma", Jaho's long scene as the heroic Liu, and the ever-touching despair of Timur/Furlanetto upon the death of his faithful servant - we headed out into the rainy afternoon. 

CAST

Metropolitan Opera House
May 7th, 2022 matinee

TURANDOT
Giacomo Puccini

Turandot................Liudmyla Monastyrska
Calàf...................Yonghoon Lee
Liù.....................Ermonela Jaho
Timur...................Ferruccio Furlanetto
Ping....................Alexey Lavrov
Pang....................Tony Stevenson
Pong....................Eric Ferring
Emperor Altoum..........Carlo Bosi
Mandarin................Jeongcheol Cha
Maid....................Anne Nonnemacher
Maid....................Meredith Woodend
Prince of Persia........Jonathan Burwell
Executioner.............Arthur Lazalde
Three Masks: Elliott Reiland, Ilia Pankratov, Amir Levy,
Temptresses: Natalia Alonso, Jennifer Cadden La France, Réka Echerer, Katherine Hozier

Conductor...............Marco Armiliato

Production..............Franco Zeffirelli

~ Oberon

Hadelich/Orchestra of St Luke's @ Carnegie Hall

Above: violinist Augustin Hadelich and Maestro Bernard Labadie at this evening's concert; photo by Steve Sherman, courtesy of Carnegie Hall

Thursday May 5th, 2022 - Tonight's concert by the Orchestra of St. Luke's at Carnegie Hall has been a red-letter date on my calendar since it was announced; in fact, it was a very vivid shade of red, because the wonderful Italian-born violinist Augustin Hadelich (above) would be joining the Orchestra for the Mendelssohn violin concerto.

The folks from St. Luke's welcomed not one but two soloists this evening: counter-tenor Reginald Mobley opened the concert with the J. S. Bach's cantata “Ich habe genug,” BWV 82, before Mr. Hadelich appeared to play the Mendelssohn. Bernard Labadie was on the podium.

Mr. Mobley (above, with Maestro Labadie in a Steve Smith photo) is a singer new to me. He is an imposing figure, and one might expect from him a thunderous bass voice in the Morris Robinson mold; but that is not the case. 

Ich habe genug (in English: "I have enough" or "I am content"), BWV 82, is a church cantata; Bach composed it for bass voice in Leipzig in 1727 for the Feast of the Purification of Mary, and later prepared a version for soprano, BWV 82a, first performed in 1731. The cantata consists of three 'arias' interspersed with passages of recitative.

Mr. Mobley's soprano timbre took beautifully to the Carnegie space; with his canny mixture of straight tone and smooth vibrato, the singer held our interest throughout, wondering what the next phrase might bring. He does not lean heavily on the lower notes, but sustains them clearly to fine effect. Passing moments of breathiness did not deter from the pleasure of hearing this voice, and Mr. Mobley made the limpid phrases of the recitatives as essential to the music as the arias themselves. Stephen Taylor, so familiar to me from his frequent appearances at Chamber Music Society of Lincoln Center, played the oboe passages lovingly, and the orchestra, under Maestro Labadie, sounded marvelous.

Mr. Hadelich then joined the orchestra for the Mendelssohn concerto, in which the three movements are played without pause. The Allegro molto appassionato opens with a familiar theme, delivered by Mr. Hadelich with his customary silken grace. Passages of restless coloratura follow, impeccably played. The music slows to introduce a ravishing violin passage, so nuanced...and so intoxicating to experience this evening. Mendelssohn places the cadenza mid-movement rather than at the end, and it gave us an opportunity to savour Augustin's luminous execution: so detailed, with delicious rubato effects and finely-judged piano/pianissimo gradations. Sweet upper winds underscored the violinist's sublime playing of the interlude, and then Maestro Labadie signaled an acceleration to the movement's dazzling finish.

A solo bassoon, sustaining one note, connects the Allegro to the Andante con moto that follows. It was at this moment that the obligatory cellphone spoiler occurred: can any concert, opera, or dance event ever take place these days without such idiotic intrusions?

At any rate, Mr. Hadelich's Guarneri ‘del Gesú "sang" the Andante's tender cavatina with gorgeous tone, creating a feeling of deep tranquility in the venerable Hall. After a bustling center section, we are led back to the main theme, concluding with an enchanting phrase carrying the violin to ethereal heights before a benedictive finish.

After a few bars of connecting music, the brass open the brilliant finale. Throughout, Mr. Hadelich's virtuosity and subtlety continued to exert a spell over the crowd; his trills were captivating. He is an artist who can make us feel that all's right with the world.

With the concerto's final note still echoing on the air, the entire audience rose to fervently applaud Mr. Hadelich for his spellbinding performance. It was exciting to experience - and be part of - this uproar of delight, and the violinist obliged with Coleridge-Taylor Perkinson's jazzy Louisiana Blues Strut as an encore. Mr. Hadelich was called out two more times before the crowd would let him go.

Tonight marked my fifth concerto performance by Augustin Hadelich: previously, I've heard him play  Mozart, Barber, Beethoven, and Sibelius, and each has been magnificent. I cannot wait to hear him again. To me, at times, he seems like a young Gandalf, holding the dark forces of the world at bay with his magical violin. Bravo, Augustin!

Above: Augustin Hadelich acknowledging the huge ovation that greeted him after the Mendelssohn concerto; photo by Steve Sherman

Tonight's concert concluded with Mendelssohn's resplendent Italian Symphony. I first heard this music (on a recording) in a ballet studio in Harwichport, Massachusetts in the summer of 1974 where I was spending the summer with my lover, TJ, and dancing (!) in a production of COPPELIA. The music of the Italian Symphony has stayed with me ever since, though I have seldom heard it performed live.

A ten-month visit to Italy, commencing in October 1830, inspired Mendelssohn to write this Italian Symphony. The music conveys the composer's impressions of Italy – Mediterranean sunshine, Catholic ritual, magnificent art and monumental architecture, and the rolling, open countryside.

Mendelssohn completed this symphony on March 13th, 1833 in partial fulfillment of a commission from the Philharmonic Society of London. He conducted the premiere exactly two months later, on May 13th, which was a great success. Mendelssohn, however, was never entirely satisfied with his symphony: he revised it twice, in 1837 and again before he died in 1847, but it was never published during his lifetime. This final version premiered in Leipzig on November 1st, 1849.

Above: Maestro Labadie and the Orchestra of St. Luke's; photo by Steve Sherman

The orchestra tonight gave a glorious reading of the Italian Symphony, Maestro Labadie's brisk tempo sending the opening Allegro vivace sailing jubilantly forward with top-notch playing from his dedicated musicians. The winds take a prominent role in this movement, and they sounded lovely indeed.

In the stately second movement, Andante con moto, a unison melody has an almost Russian feeling, whilst the basses provide a steady pulse. It ends subtly, and is followed by the lyrical interlude of the Con moto moderato. The dancing Saltarello of the finale is invigorating to hear; horn calls sound forth, and the magic of a Midsummer Night's Dream can be felt. A perfect end to an uplifting evening.

All photos by Steve Sherman, courtesy of Carnegie Hall

~ Oberon