Monmouth Civic Chorus. Ryan James Brandau, conductor. December 22, 2019.

Count Basie Theatre, Red Bank, NJ.  (Orchestra, Seat L6, $30).

Program – Messiah and More.

Artists

Devony Smith, mezzo-soprano

The New Jersey Youth Chorus, Trish Joyce, Director.

Per my records, this was the sixth year that Lorinda and I celebrated our birthday together.  For many years it was marked by attending the Christmas concert performed by the Monmouth Civic Chorus.

Trying a selfie with the ultra wide angle camera on the iPhone 11.

Compared to prior years’ programs, this afternoon’s concerts had a relatively heavy dose of Messiah, with a couple of arias (and a recitative) sung by the mezzo-soprano Devony Smith.

Also on the program were several pieces by the NJ Youth Chorus Coriste – consisting of high school girls – who in some ways stole the show (in a good way).

Several numbers were sung by the men in the Civic Chorus, two of them used a microphone, one didn’t, and his voice didn’t carry well.  The mezzo on the other hand, did well, and I wished she had done a few more arias from Messiah.  The mike’d singers got a lot of applause, naturally.  As Renee Fleming once said, the microphone is a singer’s best friend.

The program was generally light-hearted and uplifting, however, a couple of the poems by the Chorus’s resident poet Bob Kelly talked of passed loved ones.  Debbie Downer, no doubt, but reality nonetheless.  Some families have table settings for those no longer around at Christmas dinner, not so much superstition as a way of remembrance.

At the conclusion of the program.  The NJ Youth Chorus Coriste in front, and the guest artist Smith on the right.

We had dinner at Juanito’s afterwards, and Jennifer joined us.

Boston Pops Orchestra. Keith Lockhart, conductor. December 19, 2019.

Symphony Hall, Boston.  (Balcony, Seat 1BC-G14, $55.50).

Program – Holiday Pops.

Artists

Tanglewood Festival Chorus, James Burton, conductor.

Will LeBow, narrator.

I did this exactly a year ago, with Joe and Emmie.  This year Jess and Emmie came along.

Second year attending a Pops Holiday Concert with granddaughter Emmie.

The Program was quite a bit different from last year’s.  One notable exception was “The Christmas Story” was swapped for “The Polar Express” this year.  The rather long (15 or so minutes) story had a narration about finding/losing/regaining a sleigh bell, with music by the chorus and the orchestra, was a bit too long and a bit too stagnant to capture the audience’s attention, in my opinion.

There was no “Hallelujah Chorus” last year either.  Having just heard the Handel & Haydn Society Chorus sing last week, the Tanglewood Festival Chorus didn’t quite measure up, it was good, though.

Lockhart claims “The Twelve Days of Christmas” is now a perennial during the holidays.  I wonder how many years after Brady retires that they will stop using his jersey for the twelfth day.

After performing "The Twelve Days of Christmas."  The chorus members were holding up the numbers.

  

The chorus again performed without compensation, which begs the question, someone must be making some money off these concerts, who are they?  I asked the same question last year.

Interestingly, Lockhart was the conductor at a December 15 afternoon concert in NJPAC, at the same time as one at Symphony Hall, which was conducted by James Orent.  So the regular ensembles are twice the size?

Today was cold (teens) so Joe dropped us off somewhere close.  Right after the concert Uber back to Somerville would have cost $50.  We ate at Pho & I nearby, and the price came down to less than $20 by the time we were done.  As we were waiting for the Uber, we saw a car speeding down Huntington Ave, quickly followed by the thumping noise.  Sure enough it got into an accident at the intersection.

In any case, it was close to 7:45 pm when we got home.

New York Philharmonic – Harry Bicket, conductor. December 17, 2019.

David Geffen Hall at Lincoln Center.  Orchestra (Seat T14, $51.75).

Program

Messiah (1741) by Handel (1685-1759)

Artists

Louise Alder, soprano; Anthony Roth Costanzo, countertenor; Joshua Ellicott, tenor; Dashon Burton, bass-baritone.

Handel and Haydn Society Choir, Harry Christophers, director.

Eric Bartlett, cello; Stuart Stephenson, trumpet; Andrew Henderson, organ; Paolo Bordignon, harpsichord

We would like to go to a Messiah concert every season, and usually enjoyed the experience.  This concert was no exception.  I don’t know how often I characterize these concerts as great, this certainly came close.

I do want to record some of my observations, good or bad, as they help me in recalling the specifics.

The soloists did great, most of the time.  Perhaps due to our seats on the right side of the auditorium, sometimes their voices seemed to drop off a bit.  Burton sometimes came across as being too soft, probably because he wanted to provide contrast in the volume.  Alder generally did well, but I thought she could do better with the air “I know that my redeemer liveth” where she cut the last words short.  Costanzo was a last minute replacement for the ailing Iestyn Davies; he sang the same role last year.  The tenor Ellicott was solid.

The chorus is from Boston, and per the Program Notes they have been performing for 205 consecutive seasons – the longest of any performing arts organization in America.  They gave Messiah’s US premiere in 1818.  Their sound was much richer than one would expect from their size – 44 singers.  I was impressed with their dynamic range, and the soprano section’s silken smooth rendering of the high notes.

The audience was very appreciative of the performance.  The soloists are Burton, Ellicott, Costanzo, and Alder.  The trumpeteer Stephenson is on the left of this photo.

On some prior occasions I lamented how sloppy the orchestra could be – probably because they took the piece for granted.  Today they did very well.  We thought the trumpet messed up a little at one point.  Towards the end the strings used no vibrato; well, the NY Phil is no period orchestra, they sounded a bit on the stiff side.

This is a lengthy composition, so things got a little sloppy towards the end, especially for the chorus.

I do wonder about what edition of the oratorio we used.  I know the oratorio quite well, but some numbers sounded different to me.

We have seen Harry Bicket conduct the Metropolitan Opera a couple of times.  He seemed to be in control all the time, and led the artists with precision.

I was a bit tired, and it was raining.  I made a last-minute decision to drive in, and it was okay.  We had takeout food in our car.

Crossroads Theatre Company – A Christmas Carol. December 14, 2019.

Elizabeth Ross Johnson Theater, New Brunswick PAC, New Brunswick, NJ.  Orchestra (Seat G114, $60).

Story.  The plot of the musical follows closely Dickens’s novel.  Ebenezer Scrooge starts off as a selfish and unkind man who hates Christmas, and is transformed after encountering first the ghost of his business partner Marley followed by ghosts of the past, the present, and the future.

Conductor – Mesia Austin; Count Stovall – Scrooge, Kaylie Mariah Batista – Tiny Tim, Dwayne Clark – Christmas Present, Arisa Odaka – Christmas Future & Dancer, Matt Provencal – Jacob Marley & Old Joe, Justin Rappaport – Christmas Past & Dancer.

Full disclosure, I didn’t know the details of the story before I went to this musical, and – sadly – do not know much more after attending this play.  So both my story and my list of cast members may be incomplete.

First a little about the experience.  My understanding is this musical has been around for a while, and often see it advertised during the Christmas season nowadays.  Alan Menken, who wrote the music, was also responsible for several other Broadway shows, including “The Little Shop of Horrors” which we saw many years ago – and enjoyed.

Using “The Little Shop” as a yardstick, this musical didn’t come close.  The most noticeable gap is the lack of tunes that I want to hum along.  While the music was pleasant enough, the numbers just didn’t measure up.  Curiously, the name of the Set Designer was crossed out in the Program.  While the vehemence of which was inexplicable (it was manually done), I wouldn’t want to be associated with the set design either.  Simple sets are to be expected in a local production, but for this show we had the bare minimum: a bed, a hearth, a door, a couple of bank teller windows, a cloth Christmas tree, and a painted backdrop of London (I suppose).  The small orchestra sounded okay, though.

The singing was mixed.  There were some good voices.  The theatre was small (seats 385, I am told), and the singers were mike’d up anyway.  Scrooge had mostly a speaking role, which was good as Stovall has a great speaking voice, but just a so-so singing voice.

We go to State Theatre quite a bit, and never noticed this high rise being built.  NBPAC consists of a couple of theaters and rehearsal space, and opened in September.  It escapes me why such a space is necessary as the State Theatre is literally next door; we shall see how well it fares, and how wrong I am.  There are 207 apartments available for rent, and this area of town is probably quite pleasant to live in, close to restaurants and the Rutgers New Brunswick campus.

 Curtain Call with Scrooge and Tiny Tim in the middle of the lineup.

NBPAC has a pleasant feel to it.  Is the venue really necessary?  It is right next to the State Theatre.

Our grandchildren (and their parents) came along.  The kids had a reasonably good time – helped by the ghosts being not too scary – so the parents and the grandparents had a good time.

Afterwards we had a simple dinner at Master Niu’s on George Street.

New Jersey Symphony. Xian Zhang – conductor; George Li – piano. December 7, 2019.

State Theatre, New Brunswick, NJ.  Rear Orchestra (Seat T107, $25).

Program

Within Her Arms for String Ensemble (2008-09) by Clyne (b. 1980).

Piano Concerto No. 3 in D Minor, Op. 30 (1909) by Rachmaninoff (1873-1943).

Symphony No. 8 in G Major, Op. 88 (1889) by Dvorak (1841-1904).

Just as the New York Philharmonic program a few days ago, tonight’s program consists of two concert war horses, and the audience also gets to listen to a piece by a young composer.  On paper there is a lot going for it.  Again, the bottom line: it was an enjoyable concert, but George Li is no Daniil Trifonov, and the NJSO is not the NY Phil.  I am sure NY Phil and NJ Symphony do not coordinate their programs, but we also got to contrast Scriabin with Rachmaninoff, and Dvorak with Tchaikovsky.

First the piece by Anne Clyne, a London-born composer who now lives in New York City. One of her teachers is Julia Wolfe, whose “Fire in my mouth” we heard at the beginning of the year (guess what, performed by the NY Phil).  Per the Program, Clyne’s piece is “a reverie for strings delivering a posthumous love letter to her mother.” Three players were used in each of the instruments, for a total of 15.  Many sections got divided up, resulting in a lot more parts.  I was struggling with words and phrases to describe tonight’s piece – minimalist, surreal, monotonous were words that came to mind – and then I read my blog entry for Wolfe’s piece, and realized to my amusement it would fit Clyne.  Either I am very simple-minded, or Clyne follows the Wolfe tradition.  One thing I didn’t hear was sadness, perhaps intentional as the last line of the poem quoted in the Program is “The message of love and understanding has indeed come.”

 A small string orchestra was used in Anna Clyne's Within Her Arms.

I would take any of Rachmaninoff’s piano concertos (and the Variation) over Scriabin any day, so I was happy to see the piece on tonight’s program.  Both Anne and I were sure we had heard Li play before, but tonight was our first time.  Regardless, if prizes and honors are any indication, he sure is an up and coming young (age 24) pianist.

The 39-minute piece consists of three movements: Allegro ma non tanto, Intermezzo, and Finale. 

The New York Herald (way back in 1910) said the following about the concerto: its great length and extreme difficulties bar it from performance by any but pianists of exceptional powers.  Li certainly qualified on the “powers” dimension.  A large orchestra (for this organization anyway) was used, and the piano was up to the task.  Our seat in the rear was close enough to see how fast his fingers had to move, and how hard he had to hit the keyboard.  To Li’s credit, I didn’t worry about him keeping up, a remark I made about Trifonov when I first heard him perform.  However, I felt exhausted at the end of the performance, which isn’t necessarily a complimentary remark.  One would rather have a “wow, what a performance” rather than a “whew, I am relieved its over” reaction.  The concerto may be called “The Mount Everest of Piano Concertos,” but it isn’t actually that mountain.  (Enough clichés.)

George Li and Xian Zhang acknowledging the audience.  Li played a short encore.

Li was mobbed by a crowd at half-time, so I caught only glimpses of him which indicated a small-statured young man.  Didn’t get to see if he had exceptionally large hands tough.

Dvorak’s Eighth either comes across as great or dull in most of my prior encounters.  Tonight it didn’t rise up to the “great” level, but definitely not “dull.”  The performance was coherent enough that it wasn’t just melodies strung together.

After Dvorak's Eighth Symphony.

One other comparison that can be made is Zhang and van Zweden.  Both are of the exaggerated movements category, although van Zweden crouches and twists a bit more.  It is probably fairer to compare HK Phil (rather than NY Phil) under van Zweden with NJ Symphony under Zhang.  In that case I feels the two organizations are about equal in competence.  As to how the Dec 3 concert compares with this one, the NY Phil one wins by a nose, at least for someone only looking for easy-listening.

We had to leave a church fellowship early to make this concert and thus missed out on Don’s talk.  I am happy to report that tonight’s attendance was quite good, probably because many tickets were deeply discounted.

Metropolitan Opera Encore Performance. Glass’s Akhnaten. December 4, 2019.

Cinemark Theater, Hazlet, NJ.  Theater 11 (Seat C10, $26.72).

Story.  After Amenhotep III dies, his son Amenhotep IV is coronated.  He changes his name Akhnaten (more commonly known as Akhenaten) and forms a monotheistic religion to worship Aten, a form of the sun god Ra.  He also builds a new city Akhetaten where he, his wife Nefertiti and their six daughters live in an insular world.  In year 17 of his reign the priests of Amon attack and eventually kill Akhnaten.  A young Tutankhamun is crowned the pharaoh and restores the old polytheistic religion.

 Program from the Dec 4 performance.  As far as I know the same cast was used for all performances this season.

Conductor – Karen Kamensek.  Amenhotep III & A Professor – Zachary James, High Priest of Amon – Aaron Blake, Queen Tye – Disella Larusdottir, Nefertiti – J’Nai Bridges.

The opera is interesting on many levels, and is also disappointing on so many levels.  Let me elaborate on that.

Akhenaten is a historical character who reigned around 1350 BC.  He is better known as the husband of Nefertiti and father of Tutankhamun (not by Nefertiti).  He did try to promulgate a monotheistic religion and was disposed because of that.  There seemed to be a concerted effort to eradicate all traces of him after he was killed, and the city Akhetaten he founded was destroyed.  Consequently little is known about him.  Some say his idea of monotheism was before his time, although Abraham was around before him.

This opera, together with Einstein on the Beach and Satyagraha, are called Glass’s trilogy where the composer explored religion (this opera), science (Einstein), and politics (Gandhi).  Glass was also in charge of the libretto, with the help of several collaborators.  With the notable exception of the “hymn” sung by Akhnaten in English, the libretto consists mostly of syllables in various ancient languages.  In most instances, no translations were needed (and they were not provided) as it was clear what the scenes were.

The staging is surreal, for lack of a better term.  A very unusual aspect is many chorus members were trained to be jugglers for this opera.  For most of the opera there are three levels where different people stand.  For Act 2 a huge sun disc was the focus of attention.  As Akhnaten sang “the hymn” he ascended a set of stairs, dressed in an orange outfit to match the color of the sun.

Orchestration was also unusual in that there were no violins; the principal viola thus got elevated to concertmaster.  The reason ostensibly was because the premiere took place in a temporary auditorium used by Stuttgart Opera during renovation, and could not accommodate a large orchestra.  That supposed gives the orchestra a warmer and darker sound.  There were no timpani for the same space-saving reason.

Costume is probably the most prominent aspect of the opera, at least in Met’s case.  This is brought home when Joyce Di Donato gave the audience a close look at Akhnaten’s robe during one of her intermission interviews.  I can’t imagine the number of man-hours (or person-hours) that went into the making of the piece.

There is also a speaking role in the opera, the ghost of Amenhotep III.

Early into the performance I began to think of Wagner’s term gesamtkunstwerk.  Let me come at it this way, I had not been sleeping well the last few days, still trying to recover from jetlag from my recent trip to Hong Kong.  If I had been listening to a recording of this opera, I would have fallen asleep perhaps 30 minutes into it.  Instead I was awake for the whole thing (lasted over 3 ½ hours with intermssions), and must attribute that to the visual effects.

The compliment is also a put down.  With Glass the listener must be patient, the music seems to get repeated over and over, and slowly (sometimes imperceptibly) moves from place to place.  All that became abundantly clear with the overture (which is helpfully labelled “prologue” on screen).  To keep things interesting, various patterns were projected onto the screen (naturally they moved slowly.)

One thing about Glass’s vocal music, it is easy to get the pitch, there are no large interval jumps, and the music is for the most part tonal.

I had seen Constanzo twice, once as Prospero in “Enchanted Island,” and more recently in “Glass Handel” about a year ago.  Generally my comments were positive.  As the lead in this opera, however, he was not quite up to the task.  Even in a movie version where sound tracks can be engineered, he voice came across as weak on many occasions.  The rendition of “the hymn” (probably based on Psalm 104) was at best adequate.  I was surprised at how often he had to breathe.

Bridges and Larusdottir as Nefertiti and Queen Tye did fine.  But most of the time they were singing simple words and – again – with no large interval jumps.

Zachary James is a bona fide opera singer, but has only a speaking role, albeit a rather substantial one.  He certainly made great use of this opportunity, providing good commentary on what is happening on stage.  He is also quite strong, having to carry Akhnaten’s body to the altar towards the end of the opera.

That the violins are missing never occurred to me during the opera.  In hindsight one could argue indeed the sound was warmer, and darker, but I am sure that effect can still be achieved with the inclusion of violins.

During one of the intermission interviews, one of the priests said he had to do a particular “word” 33 times against a chorus.  Well, it didn’t sound nearly as interesting when I heard it (admittedly I didn’t recognize the passage he was referencing until about 8 words in.)

As to the costumes, where do I start?  Take the most prominent piece, worn by the Pharaoh.  A search of the web returns many images of how a pharaoh is garbed, and nothing there came close.  It certainly was presented as a big deal.  Constanzo was hidden behind some wardrobe until the end of the first act.  He had only “loin clothes” on when unveiled, and there was an elaborate sequence to get him dressed in this robe.  I can’t imagine the effort that went into the design and making of the robe, but it certainly made no sense, and didn’t add anything to the story or the authenticity of the costumes.  Okay if the Met had tons of money to throw away, but I thought it didn’t.  What are these baby faces sewn into the robe?  They make me think of Louis XIV.  The intermission interview also led me to believe that everything about the costume would make sense at the end.  At the end the young King Tut basically was robed in a smaller version of the robe, so I wasn’t blown away by how clever the whole thing was.

While Amenhotep III’s costume isn’t as ridiculous, his wrist bands consist of watches, Rolexes I presume, as it is a sponsor.  Would be okay if we want to make the opera a comedy, and in any case the watches are not visible to most people in a live performance anyway.

I can make similar remarks about the jugglers.  Why are they put there?  One could argue some drawings from that period may show jugglers during those days, but again they add nothing to the story.  Visually they do provide some distraction so the audience may not notice the deficiencies of other aspects of the opera.  (There, a praise and a pan.)

The Synopsis devoted many words on how Amenhotep III's body was prepared for burial, including the removal of his organs.  Let's just say the macabre in me wasn't satisfied at all.

This series constitutes Karen Kamensek’s debut at the Met.  She claims Glass is fine with her interpretation, which I don’t dispute, and that much concentration is needed, (otherwise you may skip a whole page and no one notices it.)

 Akhnaten flanked by Nefertiti (on his right) and Queen Tye.  Picture from Met website.

 Akhnaten died at the end of the opera, and his clothes were removed before burial clothes were wrapped around the body.  So Constanzo put on the robe for the curtain call.

Karen Kamensek the conductor.

To sum up, this is an opera that probably can’t thrive on the music and the drama alone, and throwing a lot of distraction into the production may or may not enhance the audience experience.  Later this season we will see another new production: Porgy and Bess by Gershwin.  All the shows are sold out (although they are now putting out additional performances), I wonder how I would react to it.

I met up with Roger H at the Cheesequake Rest Area and then rushed to Hazlet.  The theater seats about 110, the audience numbered about 30, it was a quiet day in the entire cinema complex.  I do hope they continue to have these shows

New York Philharmonic. Jaap van Zweden – conductor; Daniil Trifonov – piano. December 3, 2019.

David Geffen Hall at Lincoln Center.  Orchestra 2 (Seat CC106, $74.50).

Program

Piano Concerto in F-sharp minor, Op. 20 (1896-97) by Scriabin (1872-1915).

Symphony No. 5 in E minor, Op. 64 (1888) by Tchaikovsky (1840-93).

On paper this should be a great concert.  Daniil Trifonov on the piano, followed by one of Tchaikovsky’s popular symphonies, what is there not to like.  Nothing, except that the justifiable high expectations (say an A+ concert) was not quite met (A- perhaps in my grading).

While the name Scriabin certainly was familiar, a search of this blog returned two pieces of his I have heard over the last 15 or so years, both written in the early 1900s.  It turns out they belong to his later stage atonal period.  Today’s concerto was his first “real” orchestral work (he had attempted but didn’t finish a Fantasia for Piano), where “Scriabin keeps the piano almost constantly active, but not always in the spotlight …” (per Program Notes).

The relatively short (27 minutes) concerto has as its movements Allegro, Andante and Allegro moderato.  Unfortunately, my appreciation of the piece was limited to what I gleaned from the Notes: Chopinesque in its arching phrases …, piano and orchestra are far more tightly interlaced …, the piano almost constantly active, but not always in the spotlight.  Those comments do not help in my understanding of what the piece was about other than a challenging exercise for the musicians.  We had enjoyed good acoustics at our seats in David Geffen Hall recently, so I was surprised how weak the piano sounded, especially given the reduced size orchestra that was used (there were quite a few brasses).

Scriabin was the number two piano student at the Moscow Conservatory, having the misfortune of being a contemporary of Rachmaninoff; nonetheless not bad considering his small stature limited his span to an octave.  When Scriabin died, Rachmaninoff toured Russian in a series of all-Scriabin recitals which helped secure Scriabin’s reputation as a composer.  His music was banned from the Philharmonic in the early 1900s because of his affair with Tatiana de Scholzer, but the conductor of the orchestra was a good friend of the real Mrs. Scriabin.

Trifonov performed a short encore piece.

Trifonov and van Zweden after the Scriabin concerto.

The definitive performance of Tchaikovsky’s Fifth Symphony was the one led by Blomstedt.  It was back in 2012, yet I still remember it.  Not the specifics, but that Blomstedt took the audience on a wild ride over the course of the composition.  Tonight’s performance was more controlled, and was enjoyable enough.  However, I wasn’t taken on an emotional ride, and the only exciting part was how the coda sounded.  The audience enjoyed it very much, if the applause was any indication.

We took the train in, and the concert ended early enough for us to catch the 9:38 pm train back, which is always a nice bonus.

Australian Chamber Orchestra. Richard Tognetti – director and violin, Timo-Veikko Valve – cello. November 17, 2019.

Concert Hall, Sydney Opera House (via Facebook livestreaming).

Program

Jouissance by Ford (b. 1957).

Gran Turismo by Norman (b. 1979).

Concerto for Violin and Cello in A minor, Op. 102 “Double Concerto” by Brahms (1833-1897).

Symphony No. 8 in G major, Op. 88 by Dvorak (1841-1904).

A little before 10 pm Saturday night I got this email message saying there will be a live broadcast of an ACO concert at 10 pm (2 pm Sunday in Sydney).  I tuned in to take a look, but ended up sitting through the entire concert.  Even though the video froze a few times, it was still a very good broadcast.

I had seen posters for the ACO in Australia, but the timing of my visits had never been right, so I have not been at one of their concerts, and knew very little about them.  In the back of my mind I think of them as an Orpheus-wannabe, probably not as good.  Turns out they have an “artistic director and violin,” and they are also quite good.  For this concert they had many guest orchestra members.  For instance, three additional cellist to the usual three, and two guest bassists in addition to the one on their regular roster.  Therefore, the “final product” may not be a reflection of the ensemble itself, for better or for worse.

Jouissance is best described as a trumpet fanfare, and was performed by ACO’s (guest) principal trumpet Visa Haarala.  Andrew Ford started this as a piece for two trumpets, but there was really no explanation of how it ended up in this form.  The title was meant to denote “joy,” but colloquially the French word could also mean orgasm.  That confirms my thinking that it is rather pretentious (and in this case comical) to be too clever with choice of titles, a relatively recent phenomenon for some composers.  The Annotator had the wit to question if the piece was placed too early in the program.

The trumpet was situated in the organist area of the auditorium (high and in the back).  The lights then shone on the stage (for this concert hall it is surrounded by the audience) where eight violinists pounded away at Andrew Norman’s 8-minute Gran Turismo.  Even though the sound could be monotonous after a while, it was nonetheless interesting to see how the musicians interacted with each other in this rather difficult piece.  The piece was supposed to reflect Norman’s discovery of Futurist art and the video game called Gran Turismo.  I quote from the Program (which I found online): “Tropes of Futurist art … and racing games became the basis for the work’s composition: visual drama, divided space, … competition … HIGHER! LOUDER! FASTER! … orchestra revving its engines …” Fair enough, a couple of days later (typing this inside United 179) I could remember the energy, but very little of how the piece sounded.

Brahms’s double concerto doesn’t get performed a lot, so I decided to keep the TV on.  Brahms often consulted with Joseph Joachim on violin pieces, but the two friends had a falling out because Brahms defended Amalie, Joachim’s wife, whom Joachim believed had an affair (not with Brahms).  After several years, Brahms wrote this piece somewhat as a peace offering, and the premiere was performed by Joachim and Robert Hausmann, conducted by Brahms.  With this background, one could catch what the music was trying to say.  Without this background, it would still have been a brilliant piece for the soloists, even though initial reception by critics was not the warmest.  The three movements are Allegro, Andante, and Vivace non troppo.

Brahms’s violin music generally isn’t flamboyant, but can be very difficult.  He didn’t use a lot of the techniques beloved by – say – Paganini.  The difficulty is in the copious use of double stops, syncopation, and intricate phrasing.  I was following along with the score and was amazed at the lines and lines of double stops for the solo violin.  I don’t play the cello, but can assume the same high demands on the cellist.

The first movement was really well-performed.  The interplay between the two soloists and the orchestra was just right.  Very often it was so intimate that it felt like chamber music rather than an orchestral work.  The level of playing dropped a bit for second and third movements, unfortunately.

When the players were assembled on stage, I thought there was not going to be a conductor.  Turns out Tognetti did quite a bit of conductor with his bow while he wasn’t playing the violin.  I was worried all the flips would break the bow. He didn’t need a score for the orchestra, but one for himself; something I never understand.

This photo was copied from an ACO Facebook entry.  The two soloists have their backs to each other.  Not intentional, but interesting for this concerto of friendship.  (This was not taken at the Sydney Opera House.)

The Dvorak symphony is often referred to as the composer’s “pastoral” symphony.  Sure enough, it began with birds singing.  This symphony can sound great when performed well, or it can sound dragged out with a mediocre orchestra.  While not mediocre, it certainly wasn’t great.  With the help of a competent video director, one could see the individual players as they played their lines, and the flutist (Sally Parker) got a lot of screen time.  Even though some of the tunes are simple, they do add a lot to the adjective “pastoral.”  Tognetti was the conductor, and didn’t play the violin at all.

In the Program Andrew Ford had a rather lengthy article that started with the provocative question “Why does history think less of Dvorak than of Brahms?”  He proceeded to discuss how national composers (Dvorak, Verdi, etc) are different from the mainline German-Austrian heritage, and how music could have lyrics or motifs.  Some interesting points, some points a bit hard to follow, but at the end “the reader can decide,” or “more thinking needs to be done.”  (Those are my words.)

The ACO evidently has an instrument acquisition program that has had quite a bit of success, and this is the first Program I saw listing the instrument played by each individual.  Instruments range from a violin made in 1600 (!) to one made in 1989.

Overall, this was an interesting encounter with the ACO, even though it was over the internet.  Here is a Sydney Morning Herald review of the concert, it mentions there were 52 players for the Dvorak symphony, three times the number of regular ACO musicians.

New York Philharmonic. Santtu-Matias Rouvali - conductor; Bryce Dessner – Electric Guitar. November 15, 2019.

David Geffen Hall at Lincoln Center.  Orchestra (Seat O6, $52.50).

Program

Romeo and Juliet, Overture-Fantasy (1869, rev. 1870 and 1880) by Tchaikovsky (1840-93).

Wires (2016) by Bryce Dessner (b. 1976).

Symphony No. 1 in E minor, Op. 39 (1898-99, rev. 1900) by Sibelius (1865-1957).

There were several firsts with this concert.  This series of concerts was the debut for both the conductor and the soloist; this was the first time the electric guitar was a featured solo instrument in a New York Phil classical concert (called an orchestral concert in the Playbill); and this was also the premiere for Dessner’s composition.

For me – it turned out – both the Tchaikovsky and the Sibelius were unfamiliar.  I did a search of this blog just now, I have heard the Tchaikovsky piece once, performed by the Moscow State Symphony, back in 2014.  Of the many encounters with Sibelius, not once did I hear Symphony No. 1 (No. 4 seems very popular, on par with his violin concerto).  It was well into the piece (about 10 minutes) that the familiar theme in Romeo and Juliet appeared for the first time, and it was (close to) worth the wait.

Per Playbill, some “wags” have called the first Sibelius symphony Tchaikovsky’s seventh (the Pathetique was written in 1893); interestingly, Sibelius liked to compare the last movement of the symphony (appropriately titled: Final (quasi un fantasia) – Andante – Allegro molto) with Berlioz’s Symphonie fantastique, written quite a bit earlier in 1830.  In any case, Sibelius was one of the last composers of the symphonic tradition, one challenged by the Liszt-Wagner camp.

Despite my unfamiliarity with this symphony, I found it “easy-listening” and enjoyable.  The first three movements are Andante ma no troppo – Allegro energico; Andante ma non troppo lento; and Scherzo: Allegro.

The “easy-listening” was in no small part due to my experience with Dessner’s Wires.  First of all, I have limited knowledge of the range of sounds the electric guitar could make, so it took a lot of concentration just to pick up the instrument.  On top of that, the music – while not grating on the ears – was not easy to follow.  While the sentence “I was thinking just about [how] instead of sending e-mails we used to send wires” makes sense on the surface, I have no idea how that comparison was realized in the music.  The Playbill specifically mentioned two other wired instruments in the ensemble: the harp and the piano, my question is why weren’t they at the front of the stage.  I could hear the piano, but couldn’t see it at all from my seat.

 Dessner and Rouvali.  The white object to the right of Dessner is the amplifier.

After the performance of Sibelius's First Symphony.

And I am sure some string players were chuckling as they went through a col legno passage, perhaps an indication they didn’t know what was going on either?

A somewhat un-related remark: this orchestra does have a great sound that one could always count on.  I say that thinking about NJ Symphony, still on occasion a hit-or-miss affair.  Nearly all the principals were missing today, from the concertmaster to the timpanist.  The principal flute did come back for the Sibelius.  We saw Rouvali a few years back (he was very young then), with the New Jersey Symphony.  My remarks about both the orchestra and the conductor were not kind.  Rouvali still conducted with much exaggerated motions, but the orchestra seemed to respond, to an overall good effect.  As readers of the blog know, my opinion of the NJSO has improved tremendously, although every now and then doubts still creep in.

We got these tickets from Today Tix at $52.50 each (seats cost $99 on website, plus fees), and the price on the ticket was $41.50.

We took the 6:16 pm train in, and caught the 10:20 pm train back.  Worked out quite well.

Metropolitan Opera – Gluck’s Orfeo ed Euridice. November 7, 2019.

Metropolitan Opera at Lincoln Center.  Balcony (Seat B115, $87.50).

Story.  Euridice dies of a snake bite and her husband Orfeo mourns at the grave.  Amore, god of love, appears and says Orfeo is allowed to go to Hades to retrieve her, with the stipulation that he shall not speak to or look at her.  Euridice is brought to Orfeo in Elysium, and he proceeds to bring her back.  Euridice, not understanding what is going on, panics.  Orfeo turns to see her, and she dies.  As Orfeo is about to kill himself, Amore appears and revives Euridice for the second time.  They return to earth and everyone celebrates.

Conductor – Mark Wiggleworth.  Orfeo – Jamie Barton, Amore – Hera Hyesang Park, Euridice – Hei-Kyung Hong.

The story of Orpheus and Eurydice is a familiar one, although there are several variations.  Unlike the story in this opera, most do not have a happy ending.  Instead of Eurydice coming back to life, Orpheus dies.  There are many “modern” stories with a similar plot, “What Dreams May Come” is a film that comes readily to mind.

The set is quite simple, basically a semi-circular theater with three rows of spectators.  This was turned around to reveal a set of stairs leading from Hades back to the land of the living.  I probably wouldn’t have noticed the “historical” characters had Anne not pointed out the article in the Playbill alluding to that fact.  This set was first used in 2007.  Then it was probably okay to have characters such as Pocahontas on stage, I wonder if there are no “cultural appropriation” charges leveled against the characters nowadays – such are the times we live in.  Regardless, it was fun to try to identify who the characters were, although they are not germane to the story at all.

Indeed, it is noteworthy that the set designers had to use (resort to) this to keep the set interesting.  One can add a lot of embellishment to the basic plot (and many writers have) without sounding superfluous, but Gluck (or rather the librettist Ranieri de’ Calzabigi) decided to make the story as straightforward as it could be, and (I imagine) let the music do the heavy dramatic lifting.

And most of the lifting falls on the shoulders of Orpheus.  I didn’t track the durations, but it won’t surprise me that Orpheus’s singing is more than that of Eurydice and Amore, combined.  Afterall, he is the musician in the group.  In that regard the choice of Jamie Barton as Orpheus is disappointing.  Her singing is solid, but not thrilling.  While enjoyable, it didn’t engage the listener emotionally.  “Che faro senza Euridice” is a simple yet heart-breaking aria; the way Barton did it, it was nothing more than a nice tune.

Hong as Euridice put in a solid performance, and Park provided reasons for the audience to chuckle as Amore.

 The spectators in the theater are "historical" characters.  Interesting but not germane to the story.

The main characters: Euridice (Hong), Orfeo (Barton), Amore (Park) and Wigglesworth.

The Playbill claims the opera is performed without intermission so the full emotional impact could be felt.  Given how little impact it had, I do wonder what it would feel like with an intermission and even less impact.

In all fairness, I was glad to have gone, mostly because of the supposedly significance of this opera in the genre’s history, including the non-traditional way it was written (3 main parts instead of 6, for instance).  In addition, the orchestra and the chorus sounded great.  I also liked the lute (guitar?) episode. Attendance was so-so, we could see many empty seats in the orchestra and the family circle.

I met up with Anne after the NJ Symphony concert, in Hoboken, before taking Bus 126 into New York.

New Jersey Symphony. Xian Zhang – conductor; Ning Feng – violin. November 7, 2019.

Prudential Hall at NJPAC, Newark, NJ.  Orchestra (Seat J107, $25).

Program

Capriccio espangnol, Op. 34 (1887) by Rimsky-Korsakov (1844-1908).

La joie de la souffrance (The Joy of Suffering) for Violin and Orchestra (2016-17) by Chen (b. 1951).

Introduction and Rondo Capriccioso in A Minor, Op. 28 (1863) by Saint-Saens (1835-1921).

Suite No. 2 from El Sombrero de tres picos (The Three-Cornered Hat) (1916-19) by de Falla (1876-1946).

NJSO was offering deeply discounted tickets for this (and the next) concert, so I got tickets for both.  Anne couldn’t make this one, we plan on attending together the one in early December.

The title of the concert is “Spanish- and French-Inspired Showpieces.”  The connection may not be completely obvious for all the pieces on the program.  I will get to those connections in due course.  There probably is no need to further understand the program – it is one of crowd-pleasers, by-and-large.

Rimsky-Korsakov visited Spain only once, but all things Spanish were in vogue at the time he put this to music, which was around the time that he was doing the orchestration for Borodin’s Prince Igor.  Originally Rimsky-Korsakov set out to write a violin fantasy, but settled on this form instead.  That would explain why the concertmaster had to do so many solo passages, some rather challenging technically.  Wyrick managed that without any problems, but could sound quite a bit louder. The piece consists of five movements played without pause: Alborada (Morning Song); Variazioni (Variations); Alborada; Scena e canto Gitano (Scene and Gypsy Song); and Fandango asturiano (Asturian Fandango).  It was a lively performance, and enjoyable, even with the occasional imperfection.

As for the piece by Chen Qigang, the title certainly is French.  A victim of the Cultural Revolution, he didn’t get to start his music education until 1977, and in 1984 went to Paris to become a student of Messiaen (the last one, it turns out).  So it won’t be an exaggeration to say there is much French influence in his music.  There is also a heavy dosage of Chinese in this work.  The Program Notes talks about the use of the old Chinese melody “Yangguan Sandie,” although one could make the case the composition makes use of several other Chinese tunes (perhaps some were invented by Chen).

I jotted down these phrases during the performance: started Chinese enough; moved away after about five minutes; back to a Chinese tune again, this time with flourish; cadenza full of double-stops; slow section with violin and clarinet; at about 17 minutes melody shifts to orchestra; violin has a lot of flourishes; ends calm and quiet.  One thing about Feng’s playing: his intonation was great.

Ning Feng after performing Chen Qigang's Joy of Suffering.

Notice there was no reference about hearing any suffering in my notes, which is interesting as the power of suggestion usually works very effectively on me.  Compared to the Salonen piece Gemini I heard just the day before, Joy of Suffering was much easier to get.  (I realize this is comparing a violin concerto with work for a large orchestra, and Salonen also writes compelling concertos.)

After the intermission, Feng played Saint-Saens Introduction and Rondo.  He had this habit of stressing individual notes that detracted a bit from the otherwise crowd favorite.

Manuel de Falla was one of the composers that lifted the level of Spanish music; his own stated goal was to achieve a comparable legacy to what Grieg did for Norwegian music.  Tonight’s Suite consists of three different dances: The Neighbor’s Dance (Seguidillas); The Miller’s Dance (Farruca), and Final Dance (Jota).  They together constitute the major numbers in the ballet “Three-Cornered Hat.”  Here the power of suggestion was in force: one could definitely feel a strong Spanish component to the tunes.

Zhang and the Orchestra at the end of the concert.  They have a new Principal Bass by the name of Ha Young Jung.  The former principal passed away at the beginning of last season.

This was also a short concert, with the four pieces adding up to about 61 minutes of performance time.

I actually thought to myself this afternoon’s concert (it started at 1:30 pm) was as enjoyable as the one by NY Phil last night.  Perhaps it was not as intellectually stimulating, but sometimes that is a good thing.  Today's audience seemed very enthusiastic, and attendance was okay (still quite a few empty seats).

I took the train to Newark Penn station and NJPAC was about a 10-minute walk from the train station.  The walk to Newark Broad Street Station took me past some abandoned area – I was glad it was early afternoon, in full daylight – there I caught a train to Hoboken to meet up with Anne to go to a Met opera that evening.  That will be the subject of the next blog entry.

New York Philharmonic. Esa-Pekka Salonen – conductor. November 6, 2019.

David Geffen Hall at Lincoln Center.  Orchestra (Seat U1, $54).

Program

Ragtime (Well-Tempered) for Large Orchestra (1921) by Hindemith (1895-1963).

Two Chorale Preludes (ca. 1708-17, revised ca. 1740) by J.S. Bach (1685-1750), orch. A. Schoenberg (1922)

Gemini (2018/19) by Salonen (b. 1958).

Symphony, Mathis der Maler (1934) by Hindemith.

Yesterday (I started writing this on November 7) and the day before I went to two concerts and one opera, so I would have to rush through these reviews before I forget all about the performances.  Realizing this may be a problem, I did jot down a few notes during the concerts, we shall see how helpful they turn out to be.

If anyone had any qualms about the lack of “modern” music in the last NY Phil concert (the NY Times music critic was one), this concert more than made up for it.  Per the Playbill, both Ragtime and Gemini are premiered in this series; Mathis der Maler was last performed by NY Phil in 2002, in Hong Kong; and the Chorale Preludes? March, 1958, more than 60 years ago.  So I dare venture to say most in the audience hadn’t heard any of the pieces before.

The entire program was quite short, with Ragtime at 4 minutes, Chorale Preludes at 7 (played without pause), Gemini at 23, and Mathis der Maler at 25; totaling less than an hour.  The music all looked complex (if the instruments on stage were any hint), and indeed sounded complex.  The orchestra had to have put in much practice time to prepare for it.  And then they can probably forget all about it as they probably will be retired the next time these pieces show up.

Which is what I basically have done with the music.  However, the stories behind them – such as they were – were somewhat intriguing.  A lot of what I am about to jot down is from the Playbill, and Salonen also talked a bit about the genesis of Gemini.

Gemini started with Salonen hearing a post-grunge (whatever that means) tune in a Paris restaurant, the rhythm (he had the bassoon demonstrate it) was used in various tempos throughout Pollux.  Another source was Salonen’s fascination of the lines from “Sonnets to Orpheus” by Rilke: “There rose a tree.  O Pure transcendence! O Orpheus sings! O tall tree in the ear!”  Don’t worry if the lines don’t make sense, they don’t to Salonen either, other than the desire he had to combine art and nature.  As he was writing the music, he found two musical identities (he called that a dichotomy) emerging that couldn’t be combined, and thought of the two main stars (Pollux and Castor) in the Gemini Constellation.  As such Pollux oscillates between cloud-like formations and Castor gesticulates wildly, often in extreme registers.

At this time of the year Gemini shows up late evening, to the left of Orion as they clear the east horizon.  Clearly visible are the two brightest stars; I never learned their names, until now.  The mother of the twins was Leda, and the fathers were a Sparta king (Castor) and Zeus (Pollux). (These Greek myths don’t always make sense.) When Castor as a mortal died in battle, Pollux gave him half of his immortality, so the twins now spend half their time on Mount Olympus and in Hades.  Astronomers have determined that Pollux is the 17^th brightest star and is an evolved orange giant about 34 light-years from the Sun.  Castor is 51 light years away and is actually a sextuplet star system.  It is the 44^th brightest.

Gemini Constellation.  Jupiter being a planet moves in and out of this configuration.

The instrumentation list in the Playbill is quite long, but I could see some percussion instruments, especially the two pairs of drums at the corners.  The piece is undoubtedly technically difficult, just like Salonen’s concertos for the violin and the cello.  However, it was much more difficult to “get”.  Yes, I could listen for the moods as he described them, and could clearly tell when Pollux transitioned to Castor, but I couldn’t gleam any kind of message from the music.  And I felt sorry for the hard work the orchestra had to put in, and the little they had to show for it.  At some point the cellos were furiously pounding away but could barely be heard above the rest of the orchestra.  Even with the rhythmic underpinning demonstrated, I had trouble picking it up during the actual performance.

Hindemith fled Germany in 1938, but he was already blacklisted around 1934, while he was in the process of composing the three-hour opera Mathis der Maler (Matthias the Painter).  He did use some of the material in the crafting of a Symphony of that name that was successfully performed in Berlin.  The work describes several panels the Painter’s Isenheim Altarpiece.  The first movement is designated Engelkonzert (Angelic Concert): In quiet motion – Fairly lively half-notes).  The second movement is Grablegung (Entombment): Very slow.  The last movement is Versuchung des heiligen Antonius (Temptation of St. Anthony): Very slow, not in strict time – Very lively – Slow-lively – Very lively.

Perhaps Hindemith felt a parallel between his life and that of Mathis’s as the latter’s support of the Peasants’ Revolution in Germany during the Reformation caused him the patronage of the Cardinal-Archbishop of Mainz.

In looking up the altarpiece I discovered that I didn’t know as much about altarpieces as I thought I did.  The Isenheim one has leaves that can fold and thus display different paintings.  St. Anthony the Great was a third century Egyptian monk who endured temptation in many different realms.

The piece was reasonably easy to get (with the help of the tempo markings).  The last movement was supposed to be a dream or a hallucination, but not quite at the level of Symphonie Fantastique.

St. Anthony's Temptation in the Isenheim Altarpiece.

The other two pieces have some relationship with Bach, revered by both Schoenberg and Hindemith.  Schoenberg’s chorale preludes were premiered by the NY Phil in 1922, and the Program Notes ran five pages (for seven minutes of music).  The two chorales are “Deck thyself, my soul, with gladness” and “Come God, Creator, Holy Spirit.”  The Playbill contains Schoenberg’s view on the phrasing as 1. To apportion correct relative weights within the lines, 2. At times to reveal the motivic work, at others to obscure it, and 3.  To ensure that each part exercises consideration, in terms of dynamics, for all the other parts, and for the sound as a whole (transparency).  So there is a method to the madness.  While one could definitely tell the orchestration is not by Bach (large orchestra), I couldn’t say it was by Schoenberg as the tunes sounded tonal.  One drawback: the solo passages sounded weak against the orchestra.

Hindemith also revered Bach, and paid homage to him by imagining Ragtime the way Bach might embrace the 20^th century, and how Bach would including the practices of the day if he were to write the Well-Tempered Clavier.  It was a lively and enjoyable 4 minutes.

Salonen and the New York Philharmonic.  Note the two pairs of raised drums in the back.  They were not listed in any of the Instrumentation lists for the pieces performed tonight.

I bought tonight’s ticket through TodayTix at a considerable discount.  I met up with Roger at Cheesequake Rest Area before I caught the 6:16 pm train to NY.  The train was running about 5 minutes late, so I didn’t get to NY Penn until 7:15 pm.  And I had to pick up the ticket at the box office.  All said and done, I made it by about 2 minutes, thanks to the NY Phil tradition of starting a few minutes late.  Dinner was sandwich I brought along.