New York Philharmonic. Santtu-Matias Rouvali, conductor; Nemanja Radulovic, violin. January 12, 2023.

David Geffen Hall at Lincoln Center.  Tier 1 Parterre.  (Seat EE201, $59.)

Program

Catamorphosis (2021) by Anna Thorvaldsdottir (b. 1977).

Violin Concerto No. 2 in G minor, Op. 63 (1935) by Prokofiev (1891-1953).

La Sacre du printemps (The Rite of Spring) (1911-13) by Stravinsky (1882-1971).

Yes, these two weeks constituted an audition for Rouvali as the next New York Philharmonic music director.  Indeed if one does a search on the subject, one finds many other contenders, including Dudamel and Malkki.  And (unfortunately), the Parterre seats aren't that good when it comes to a solo violin either.

If those were my only take-aways from the two concerts I attended, that would be pathetic.  The highlight of the evening was actually Prokofiev's second violin concerto.

This is a piece I have known since I was a teenager, and over the years I have heard it a few times (not often programmed), and have enjoyed every single performance.  The same tonight.  The concerto has always felt short in duration, so I was surprised it was 26 minutes in duration.  It went by quickly.  Being close to the orchestra, I had a renewed appreciation for how these professionals could do it so effortlessly.  And how "violent" the soloist attacked the violin.  The Serbian-French violinist Radulovic had to tune his violin between movements, which is expected.  Interesting the string players in the orchestra didn't need to do that (of course they can do that during the performance and not get noticed).

With the violinist's back towards us, and thus blocking both the violin and its sound, I often had to strain to hear the instrument.  When he moved in such a way that we could hear the instrument well, it sounded clean and clear.  The Program Notes doesn't say what violin it was, and I suspect it's a Strad.  (One clue is he won some "Stradivarius Competition.")

The three movements of the concerto are: Allegro moderato; Andante assai-Allegretto-Tempo I; and Allegro ben marcato.

For encore Radulovic played a piece I would call "Variations on a Theme by Paganini."  Perhaps it's a tribute to Rachmaninoff's take for the piano?  Here it is only the solo violin.  The original caprice is already difficult, the variations make it impossibly so.  There were quite a few sloppy passages, and it reminds me of how Repin played Ravel's Tzigane: a controlled train wreck.  But for the sections that work, it was surely great and impressive.

Radulovic acknowledging the orchestra, with Rouvali and Hwang looking on.

The Program Notes makes the Thorvaldsdottir piece very interesting.  The title, Catamorphosis is a word made from catastrophe and metamorphosis, and the piece (per the composer) is inspired by "the fragile relationship we have with our planet."  She further describes it as "... revolves around a distinct sense of urgency, driven by the shift and pull between various polar forces - power and fragililty, hope and despair, preservation and destruction;" and that "it is quite a dramatic piece, but it is also full of hope - perhaps somewhere between the natural and the unnatural, between utopia and dystopic, we can gain perspective and find balance within and with the world around us."  Words I don't understand.  To the extent I can make sense of them, I would expect contrasts that reflect the extremes expressed in the prose.  Another example of after five minutes one wonders if there will be anything new, and after ten minutes one can't imagine the music can keep going.  In this case the whole thing lasted twenty minutes.

The Program Notes lists the following atmospheric subsections, marked as inspirations for the players: Origin, Emergence, Polarity, Hope, Requiem, Portentia, and Evaporation.  With our binoculars we could indeed see these markings on the music.  I couldn't tell how much they inspired the musicians.

This was the US premiere of Catamorphosis.  The composer Thorvaldsdottir came on stage at the end of the performance.

CS (who didn't go to this concert) mentioned the reviews were very good, and the headline of the NY Times review is extremely positive about the performance of the Rite of Spring (the author had to say some bad things about van Zweden's performance a few years ago).  Perhaps it's where we sat, but I kept telling myself during the performance "does it have to so loud?"  That evidently didn't bother some folks sitting close to us as they applauded enthusiastically afterwards.

Nothing wrong with loud music, but a well performed Rite of Spring should bring out the mystery, anticipation, and horror of the sacrifice process, instead of an attempt to damage the eardrums of every member of the orchestra, and audience sitting close by.  (I didn't see any ear plugs in this particular violist.)

How loud was Rite of Spring?  Loud.  The Noise APP on my Apple Watch showed levels as high as 91db.  Difficult to screen shot, though.

I found out later that the iPhone keeps a record of the sound levels.  Here it shows a maximum of 99 dB, definitely too loud.

Rouvali made it a point to acknowledge the different players in the orchestra.  Here with Judith LeClair, NY Phil's bassoonist whose line started the piece.

As to Rouvali coming on as the music director, I have no opinion.  Since I described him as Dudamel-like, I do wonder why get a copy if the original is available?

We again took the train in.

Metropolitan Opera. Giordano's Fedora. January 11, 2023.

Metropolitan Opera at Lincoln Center.  Dress Circle (Seat G129, $97.50).

From the cover of the Program.  (I actually took a screen shot of the online version.)

Story.  Count Vladimiro Andrejevich is shot in St. Petersburg and dies.  The Nihilists are suspected to be behind this assassination.  Fedora, bride-to-be of Vladimiro, vows revenge.  Several months later, Fedora and Ipanoff are at Olga's party.  While Ipanoff is smitten by Fedora, Fedora wants to get Ipanoff to admit that he is the killer.  She reports her suspicion to the Russian authorities and Ipanoff's brother is arrested.  Fedora and Ipanoff eventually fall in love, and live together in Switzerland.  While Ipanoff is out, Fedora receives the message that Ipanoff's brother drowned in jail due to flooding of the river Neva, and their mother died upon hearing the news.  When Ipanoff finds out it is due to Fedora's action, he curses her.  Fedora takes the poison in her necklace, and dies in Ipanoff's arms.

Conductor - Marco Armiliato.  Countess Olga Sukarev - Rosa Feola, Princess Fedora Romazaoff - Sonya Yoncheva, Count Loris Ipanoff - Piotr Beczala, Giovanni De Siriex - Lucas Meachem.

The only Giordano opera I am familiar with is Andrea Chenier, and I have seen it on several occasions: at the Met, the Royal Opera House in London, and Deutsche Oper Berlin.  The short aria "Amor ti vieta," from Fedora, is very popular, with multiple versions available on YouTube, including a 10-tenor compilation.  As it was with Andre Chenier, I knew the tune, but had no idea what the opera was about.

The great experience I had with Andrea Chenier was not matched today.  The disappointment is on many levels.

First, the story.  I have remarked in the past that music makes or breaks an opera.  Still mostly true, but this story is just lame, for the most part. Compared to Andre Chenier with an intersection between political rivalry and personal jealousy, Vladimiro's affair with Loris's wife was the driver behind the shooting: Ipanoff found out they were having an affair, and shot Vladimiro in the ensuing struggle.  Perhaps told in the "right" way one would lament how unintended mistakes can lead to unintended consequences, I didn't get that here.  The only scene that is close to evoking pity or horror is when Fedora asks for forgiveness as she dies.

It appears Yoncheva is the star soprano at the Met nowadays, and indeed deserves much of the praise she has received.  Tonight her acting was simply flat, despite her putting a "sad face" on most of the time.  Her voice was good, but lacked the emotion I expected of her.  At the end of the day, she isn't quite ready to take Netrebko's place.

My first encounter with Beczala was him in role of Rodolfo in Luisa Miller at the Met in April, 2018, and role of Werther at the Zurich Opera a month later.  He dispatched the main aria with ease, and got the only applause during the opera.  Perhaps today I was a bad listener, out of the four performances I have seen him in, tonight's was the flattest.  The Met put out him singing this aria on YouTube.

I wonder if the apparent lack of chemistry between the principals contributed to how the performance was perceived.  (Conjecture on my part, of course.)

The bright spot tonight was the orchestra.  Armiliato elicited a great sound from the orchestra, helped by lovely harp accompaniment and the solo violin.  The music was generally quite lyrical, but didn't have too many memorable tunes.  Amor ti vieta is only about 1 minute 15 seconds long.

Each of the scenes takes place in a different city: St. Petersburg, Paris, and somewhere in the Swiss Alps.  The set designer went for realism, which is fine.  One can also easily imagine surreal settings for the three different settings.  The depth of the Met stage features prominently in the designs, especially when viewed from my seat.

The roster doesn't include the role of Vladimiro, perhaps he has no vocal (nor singing) role in the performance.  He is ubiquitous though.  First as someone doctors are trying to save, then as a wandering ghost in both later acts.  At some point I thought the dead Fedora would follow him - didn't happen.

Chopin's supposed nephew  (Boleslao Lazinski) played a couple of piano pieces during the Paris scene.  Billed as virtuosic pieces, they didn't add much to the story.  An audience has expectations of what they get from an opera performance (e.g., ballet scenes in Verdi), but tastes do change over time.  I do wonder if it is appropriate to adapt the operas to the audience (heretical statement?).

Then there is this shepherd boy (more likely cowherd as we are in the Alps) singing and playing this accordion-like instrument.  He did add a tinge of sadness to the overall atmosphere.  And would better fit in a surreal set.

The opera is relatively short (less than 2 1/2 hours, with a 30-minute intermission).  Attendance is so-so.  The seat I bought was the last row in dress circle.  The row in front was quite empty, and I took one of the seats (F123), which would have cost $30 additional.

From the web.

The curtain call was a long process: each of the dozen or so solo cast members took their time to come out.  Yoncheva was last (time stamped at 9:26 pm).  I made my way to the subway station, waited about 3 minutes for the next train, and then ran to catch the 9:38 pm train which was just pulling out as I got on the platform.  The next train was at 10:20 pm.  In hindsight I should have stayed a little longer.

I took the train, and missed the return train by less than a minute, so spent 40 minutes in Penn Station.

New Jersey Symphony. Xian Zhang, conductor; Daniil Trifonov, piano. January 6, 2023.

Richardson Auditorium at Princeton University.  Balcony Left (Seat CC11, $69).

Program

Piano Concerto No. 2 in B-flat Major, Op. 83 by Brahms.

Don Juan, Op. 20 by Richard Strauss.

Suite from Der Rosenkavalier, Op. 59 by Strauss.

Today is some sort of a double-header, Yuja Wang in the morning, Daniil Trifonov in the evening.  I bet that doesn't happen often.  It's with two different orchestras, though.

Trifonov was supposed to perform a Brahms concerto (not sure if it was the 1st or the 2nd) with the NJ Symphony in November, 2021, but performed instead Beethoven's second because of an injury.

There is much contrast between Brahms' two concertos.  The second one starts boldly, and demands a great deal of virtuosity from the performer, which Trifonov (as usual) handled with ease.  From our seat in the balcony of this small auditorium, the performance felt very intimate.

A couple of remarks.  First was both Brahms concertos are on the long side at around 50 minutes, although with a great performance time went by quickly.  The second was this duet between the cello and the piano  in the slow movement: one wishes the two instruments are in more balance - in this instance the cello was way too loud, even though Spitzer put out a great sound.  I discovered with amusement that Principal Flute Feller also doubled as a piccolo player for this piece.  NJ Symphony does have someone listed under "Piccolo" in its roster.

For encore we heard a lyrical duet between Trifonov and Spitzer.

Trifonov and Principal Cellist Spitzer after performing a lyrical encore.

Don Juan was the first work by Strauss that was popular world-wide.  He was 24 years old when he wrote it.  The opera Der Rosenkavalier, however, was written more than twenty years later.  Don Juan is a tone poem, a genre popularized by Strauss.  Per Wikipedia, Strauss had nothing to do with the Suite from Der Rosenkavalier, which Wikipedia speculates as being arranged by Rodzinski as he conducted at the world premiere by the New York Philharmonic (in 1945).  Strauss evidently didn't object to it; 

A Strauss musicologist can probably describe how his composition style changed and matured in the intervening years.  For the casual (and somewhat serious) listener, Strauss's music is best understood in terms of the various motifs (or tunes, since they can be quite long) he uses to describe the different characters and scenes.  (Other examples that come readily to mind are "A Hero's Life" and The Alpine Symphony.)  I hadn't taken the time to review these motifs.  One can discern several themes in Don Juan, but with Der Rosenkavalier some familiarity with the opera helps.  The two well-known motifs from the Suite are "Presentation of the Rose" and "Baron Ochs's Waltz."  Several sensual scenes can be observed in the work also.

The orchestration for Der Rosenkavalier certainly was more complex than that of Don Juan.  Here a third flute/double piccolo was used, and the percussion section included a ratchet.  The cymbals for some reason sounded tentative on several occasions.

A harpist was used in Don Juan.  Also notice a third flutist.

Two harps were used in the Der Rosenkavalier Suite.

CS and Shirley went to the concert also, and we had dinner before at SCHouse in Princeton.  Both Anne and Shirley know the cook there.  On the way back we discussed how energetic Zhang is, and whether that is a good quality to have.  I am generally okay with that, and the quality of NJ Symphony - even with its Jekyll and Hyde performances - has certainly improved considerably during her tenure.  I do wonder, however, if the Strauss pieces wouldn't have sounded as chaotic if she had been a bit restrained.

Dinner with old friends before the concert.

CS did the driving.  The concert was quite long, so we got home rather late.

New York Philharmonic. Santtu-Matias Rouvali, conductor; Yuja Wang, piano. January 6, 2023.

David Geffen Hall at Lincoln Center.  Tier 1 Parterre (Seat EE205, $53).

Program

Overture to Semiramide (1822) by Rossini (1792-1868).

Piano Concerto No. 3 (2022) by Magnus Lindberg (b. 1958).

Symphony No. 2 in D major, Op. 36 (1801-02) by Beethoven (1770-1827).

Rouvali and Wang at the end of the Lindberg Piano Concerto.

If I am being honest, the draw of today's program is Yuja Wang.  Still a victim of "big names," a well-known artist is enough to draw me to a concert.  For this year the exception is the NJPAC performance by Ma, Ax, and Kavakos; I refuse to pay Ticketmaster $22.60 (checked just now) to buy a ticket for the event.

Back to the entry at hand, today's Piano Concerto turned out to be a disappointment, on a couple of levels.

First, the "new" David Geffen Hall (technically the Wu Tsai Theater) has new seating sections behind the orchestra, which gives the overall Hall a more intimate feeling.  That intimacy, however, doesn't extend to the solo piano.  With its lid open, the piano's sound projects towards the main auditorium, and those in the back (called parterre to make it sound distinguished) hear a rather muffled sound.  So there was a level of frustration that while Wang pounded away (and she did, often) at the keyboard, I still had to listen intently for what was produced.

I do wonder, however, whether my reaction would have been any different if I had been able to hear the piano clearly.  My overall impression: a lot of movement, but the music never seemed to want to get anywhere.

Lindberg came on stage at the end of the concerto.

CS took this blurry picture of Wang, dressed more conservatively than usual. Those must be 4" heels though.

Lindberg of course sees it differently, in the Program Notes he is quoted as saying the work is "almost like an opera," "it's huge in a way, ... the biggest piece I have written," "I would almost call it three concertos in one piece," and "... a chart of eight different characters ... like a William Faulkner novel: There are many stories going on at the same time ..."  All of that is true, no doubt, but how much is a first-time listener expected to grasp this richness in his work? By the way, the markings for the movements are really helpful: first, second, and third.  And Lindberg's level of self-confidence - bordering on hubris - almost rivals that of Richard Wagner and Richard Strauss.

In a previous entry I said "I am certainly glad Lindberg's tenure as composer-in-residence will end this year."  That was 2010, quite a while ago.  I see no reason to revise that statement.  I admire those who love Lindberg's work.  Some of these composers - Lindberg included - use computers to generate (ideas for) their music, I would similarly need a computer to understand their work.

It's interesting that this modern composition was bookended by two works composed about 200 years ago.

The Overture to Semiramide started the program for the morning.

Beethoven's Second Symphony concluded the program.  I found myself humming some of the tunes the next couple of days.

We saw Semiramide at the Met with Angela Mead in the title role, back in 2018.  The Program Notes reminded the reader that this was a tragedy, with her son killing her (accidentally, per my entry for that performance) at the end.  The overture itself, however, sounded very crisp and bright (thus very "Rossini") which is a bit incongruent with the overall story - I don't recall hearing a single ominous passage in the overture.  At about 12 minutes, it is rather long for an overture.  Enjoyable, though.

The Beethoven piece brought out a few things.  As the Podcast "StickyNotes" says many times, Beethoven could get away with a lot of things that other composers cannot, in this case how often a theme is repeated.  The second was Beethoven is still pleasant to listen to - if it is well-performed, as it was today.  Symphony No. 2 sounds very much like Mozart and Haydn.  His Number 3 (Eroica) definitely shows a huge change in his compositional style; what's amazing is No. 2 is dated 1801-1802, while No. 3 is dated 1803, just one or two years later.

What I didn't expect, however, was how "routine" these two pieces sounded.  The Beethoven piece, in particular, was a representative of change in compositional periods.  One can legitimately ask whether these warhorses are enough to sustain the continued popularity of the classical genre.  Probably not, but that doesn't necessary mean the mantle has passed on to many of the modern composers.

The Finnish conductor Rouvali looks younger than his 37 years, and one of his teachers was Hannu Lintu, whom we saw recently.  Rouvali vocalized quite a bit, especially during the Beethoven piece.  I assume all conductors do that, it's just clearer when one is facing him.  Some people have described his moves as that of a ballet dancer; his flowing curly locks of hair and mannerisms remind me of Dudamel (who is only 42).  Rouvali will also conduct the next NY Phil series, which makes me wonder if he is auditioning for the post to be vacated by van Zweden in a couple of years.  We have tickets to that concert, with similar seats.  The solo piece is a violin concerto, I wonder if the sound would carry better in that case.

This concert was at 11 am, we took the train up.  CS also attended this concert.