Avery Fisher Hall at Lincoln Center, Orchestra 1 (Seat Y8, $54).
Program
Piano Concerto in G major (1929-31) by Ravel (1875-1937)
Symphony in C manor, D. 944, Great (1825-26) by Schubert (1797-1828)
The traffic reports said all the Hudson crossings were experiencing substantial delays. But we all supported the decision that we could probably made it in good time going through Jersey City. That turned out to be a mistake as we were stuck in traffic for at least 90 minutes; it took forever to make the left turn onto Marin from Columbus. Good thing I wasn't driving; I would have either gotten mad or very frustrated. We naturally missed the Ravel piece played by Uchida. It was a good thing we all went to the parking garage together; we barely made the second half, the Ravel piece being quite short at (an advertised) 21 minutes.
The Schubert “Great” Symphony is quite long at about 50 minutes. The program notes was mostly used to explain why this Symphony was really the seventh by Schumann. It is amazing that this is catalogued as D. 944, given the short life (31 years) of the composer.
Riccardo Muti was the guest conductor. I have seen him a few times before, and tonight he was quite a bit more animated than his “usual.” He would crouch down very low and slowly raise himself, perhaps not the most demanding physically, but still impressive for a 68 year old person.
I am not familiar with the Symphony (only Schubert one I know well is the “Unfinished"). This one is quite enjoyable. A bit long at 50 minutes, and there were several themes that were used quite extensively. The four movements of the Symphony are (i) Andante – Allegro ma non troppo; (ii) Andante con moto; (iii) Scherzo. Allegro vivace – Trio; and (iv) Finale. Allegro vivace. The program notes does point out a motif that is quite close to the very well-known one in Beethoven’s Choral Symphony. This is used quite extensively in the fourth movement. I find the concept of such borrowing fascinating.
Afterwards, Chung Shu, Shirley, and we went to Sushi A-Go-Go to have a simple dinner before we headed home. Traffic was still on the heavy side but there were no congestions. We got home at about midnight.
The New York Times reviewer thought very highly of the Uchida performance. He calls the Symphony Schumann's Ninth, perhaps to make a point? In any case, too bad we missed the first part, and our seats were great this time.
Tuesday, April 21, 2009
Sunday, April 05, 2009
New York Philharmonic - Charles Dutoit, conductor; Lisa Batiashvili, violin. April 4, 2009.
Avery Fisher Hall at Lincoln Center, Orchestra 4 Rear (Seat RR111, $67).
Program
Concerto in E-flat for Chamber Orchestra, Dumbarton Oaks (1937-38) by Stravinsky (1882-1971).
Violin Concerto No. 2 in G minor, Op. 63 (1935) by Prokofiev (1891-1953).
Symphony No. 5 in E minor, Op. 64 (1888) by Tchaikovsky (1840-93).
We got tickets to this concert in exchange for one we booked but couldn’t go. I didn’t have high expectations of neither Dutoit nor Batisahvili. I have seen both before (Dutoit quite a few times) and haven’t come away very impressed. Tonight was an exception.
We had heard the Stravinsky work (Dumbarton Oaks) before in 2006; it was conducted by David Robertson. I reread my writeup on the performance; most of what I wrote still holds today. I seem to enjoy tonight’s concert a bit more, though. Dutoit has this habit of swinging slightly to the beat, which I find annoying. But it seems to work with the small ensemble.
I have known Prokofiev’s second violin concerto since I was a teenager. My violin teacher played that as part of his examination to qualify at the “performer” level at the Trinity College of Music in London. This was in the 1970s, and one can imagine how avant garde the piece sounded then. But I got to know it and enjoy it. My view of Batisahvili changed after I heard she play the simple introduction. First, the violin sounded very well, even though we sat at the rear of the orchestra (second to last row). Indeed it is a Stradivarius (the 1709 "Engleman") on loan to her. She played the piece beautifully for the most part, although there were some passages where the (full) orchestra was a bit overwhelming. This second concerto sounded much more grounded than the first Prokofiev concerto, which we heard Midori play a few years back. The three movements are: Allegro moderato; Andante assai – Allegretto – Tempo I; and Allegro ben marcato.
I do have several of Tchaikovsky’s symphonies on my iPod, including this one, but I have to say – except for the second movement – I am not that familiar with the piece. The program notes contains a description of the theme described as “fate trying to get out” (whatever that means) that is reused in all the movement, often in different modes, and sometimes a bit contrived. (Who am I to criticize Tchaikovsky?) This is a rather long symphony at 45 minutes, but is most enjoyable. It is interesting (per program notes) that Tchaikovsky had doubts about the piece after conducting the first few performances of the new work, and that he wasn’t considered a very skilled conductor. It is a bit sentimental, but that is Russian music for you, in my opinion. The four movements are: (i) Andante – Allegro con anima; (ii) Andante cantabile, con alcuna licenza; (iii) Valse: Allegro moderato; and (iv) Finale: Andante maestoso – Allegro vivace – Moderato assai e molto maestoso.
There were quite a few young people in the attendance, the concert was close to being sold out. All in all it was very enjoyable.
The New York Times reviewer liked the Prokofiev and Tchaikovsky pieces, but didn't particularly care for Stravinsky.
Program
Concerto in E-flat for Chamber Orchestra, Dumbarton Oaks (1937-38) by Stravinsky (1882-1971).
Violin Concerto No. 2 in G minor, Op. 63 (1935) by Prokofiev (1891-1953).
Symphony No. 5 in E minor, Op. 64 (1888) by Tchaikovsky (1840-93).
We got tickets to this concert in exchange for one we booked but couldn’t go. I didn’t have high expectations of neither Dutoit nor Batisahvili. I have seen both before (Dutoit quite a few times) and haven’t come away very impressed. Tonight was an exception.
We had heard the Stravinsky work (Dumbarton Oaks) before in 2006; it was conducted by David Robertson. I reread my writeup on the performance; most of what I wrote still holds today. I seem to enjoy tonight’s concert a bit more, though. Dutoit has this habit of swinging slightly to the beat, which I find annoying. But it seems to work with the small ensemble.
I have known Prokofiev’s second violin concerto since I was a teenager. My violin teacher played that as part of his examination to qualify at the “performer” level at the Trinity College of Music in London. This was in the 1970s, and one can imagine how avant garde the piece sounded then. But I got to know it and enjoy it. My view of Batisahvili changed after I heard she play the simple introduction. First, the violin sounded very well, even though we sat at the rear of the orchestra (second to last row). Indeed it is a Stradivarius (the 1709 "Engleman") on loan to her. She played the piece beautifully for the most part, although there were some passages where the (full) orchestra was a bit overwhelming. This second concerto sounded much more grounded than the first Prokofiev concerto, which we heard Midori play a few years back. The three movements are: Allegro moderato; Andante assai – Allegretto – Tempo I; and Allegro ben marcato.
I do have several of Tchaikovsky’s symphonies on my iPod, including this one, but I have to say – except for the second movement – I am not that familiar with the piece. The program notes contains a description of the theme described as “fate trying to get out” (whatever that means) that is reused in all the movement, often in different modes, and sometimes a bit contrived. (Who am I to criticize Tchaikovsky?) This is a rather long symphony at 45 minutes, but is most enjoyable. It is interesting (per program notes) that Tchaikovsky had doubts about the piece after conducting the first few performances of the new work, and that he wasn’t considered a very skilled conductor. It is a bit sentimental, but that is Russian music for you, in my opinion. The four movements are: (i) Andante – Allegro con anima; (ii) Andante cantabile, con alcuna licenza; (iii) Valse: Allegro moderato; and (iv) Finale: Andante maestoso – Allegro vivace – Moderato assai e molto maestoso.
There were quite a few young people in the attendance, the concert was close to being sold out. All in all it was very enjoyable.
The New York Times reviewer liked the Prokofiev and Tchaikovsky pieces, but didn't particularly care for Stravinsky.
Saturday, March 14, 2009
Metropolitan Opera - Dvorak's Rusalka, March 14, 2009.
Metropolitan Opera at Lincoln Center - Dress Circle Seat D106 ($126.50).
Story. The water nymph Rusalka falls in love with a human prince, and asks the witch Yezhibaba to change her into a human being so they can be together. The witch agrees but warns her that she will be mute and her lover will die if he falls in love with another person. Although the prince and Rusalka do fall in love, the prince eventually marries a princess who has been pursuing him. The prince wants to go back to Rusalka, they kiss and the prince dies. Rusalka sinks back into the deep waters.
Conductor - Jiri Belohlavek; Water Gnome - Kristinn Sigmundsson, Rusulka - Renee Fleming, Jezibaba - Stephanie Blythe, The Prince - Aleksandrs Antonenko; The Foreign Princess - Christine Goerke.
One of the lesser known facts about Dvorak is that he was as prolific a composer of operas as he is of symphonies: he wrote 9 each during his lifetime. Since operas are usually much longer than symphonies (2 hours versus 45 minutes), he probably spent more time doing the former. Until today I had not seen any of his operas. Rusalka supposedly is one of the more famous ones and is considered a national treasure in the Czech Republic (I wonder how Slovakia feels about it.)
With a conductor born in Prague, and Renee Fleming singing the lead role, this should turn out to be a great opera to watch. However, I was a bit disappointed.
Our seats were reasonable: dress circle, just about the center. The staging was nice and appropriate. Whatever they did to make the “lake” made it look quite real, at least from where we were seated. My only real complaint would be that the lighting was too dim for those of us without the keenest of eyesights. The music was pleasant. The program notes devote several pages to describe how the simpler melodies are mixed in with more complicated passages to paint the different characters and scenes. Probably true, but it is not obvious upon the first hearing. Surprisingly, I have faint knowledge of only one melody (orchestra), the “famous” “Song to the Moon” was completely new to me. Dvorak usually incorporates some folksy tunes in his work, as I type this (inn a plane to Hong Kong) I don't remember any tune that is particularly memorable, though.
Renee Fleming's performance was not as great as I expected. This must be the fourth opera I saw in recent years where she played the lead role (Violetta in La Traviata, Desdemona in Otello, and Thais) and I was impressed with my previous encounters. Today, however, her voice didn't carry as well and sounded surprisingly weak. There were impressive episodes now and then, but the overall performance seemed spotty. Indeed the witch, played by Stephanie Blythe, did much better in my opinion.
The story was a bit too “childish” and too straightforward. It reminds me of one of Andersen's Fables (indeed the Little Mermaid is quite similar, I am told). The only twist is that prince dies when he abandons Rusalka. Usually it is the heroine that dies, although in this case her ultimate fate is not resolved.
The orchestra played well, with crisp lines. The harpist was quite busy describing the shimmering water. The animals at the witch's brewing scene elicited a few laughs from the audience.
That the opera is in Czech adds a degree of exoticism to it. However, with subtitles it could be in Italian, French, or even English! I did learn the word “Yeda” means “alas”, though.
All said, however, this is not a bad opera to see. Except my expectations were very high. I postponed my trip to Hong Kong so I wouldn't miss this episode, after all.
I have not been able to locate a review of the current performance. A New York Times review of a 2004 performance gave high marks to Renee Fleming. The reviewer thought she did well even during the time she was mute and didn't sing.
[Note added 4/6/09] I managed to find the New York Times review of the current performance. The reviewer thought highly of the performance, but was non-plused as to why the audience wasn't more enthusiastic. A case of the masses must be properly educated?
Story. The water nymph Rusalka falls in love with a human prince, and asks the witch Yezhibaba to change her into a human being so they can be together. The witch agrees but warns her that she will be mute and her lover will die if he falls in love with another person. Although the prince and Rusalka do fall in love, the prince eventually marries a princess who has been pursuing him. The prince wants to go back to Rusalka, they kiss and the prince dies. Rusalka sinks back into the deep waters.
Conductor - Jiri Belohlavek; Water Gnome - Kristinn Sigmundsson, Rusulka - Renee Fleming, Jezibaba - Stephanie Blythe, The Prince - Aleksandrs Antonenko; The Foreign Princess - Christine Goerke.
One of the lesser known facts about Dvorak is that he was as prolific a composer of operas as he is of symphonies: he wrote 9 each during his lifetime. Since operas are usually much longer than symphonies (2 hours versus 45 minutes), he probably spent more time doing the former. Until today I had not seen any of his operas. Rusalka supposedly is one of the more famous ones and is considered a national treasure in the Czech Republic (I wonder how Slovakia feels about it.)
With a conductor born in Prague, and Renee Fleming singing the lead role, this should turn out to be a great opera to watch. However, I was a bit disappointed.
Our seats were reasonable: dress circle, just about the center. The staging was nice and appropriate. Whatever they did to make the “lake” made it look quite real, at least from where we were seated. My only real complaint would be that the lighting was too dim for those of us without the keenest of eyesights. The music was pleasant. The program notes devote several pages to describe how the simpler melodies are mixed in with more complicated passages to paint the different characters and scenes. Probably true, but it is not obvious upon the first hearing. Surprisingly, I have faint knowledge of only one melody (orchestra), the “famous” “Song to the Moon” was completely new to me. Dvorak usually incorporates some folksy tunes in his work, as I type this (inn a plane to Hong Kong) I don't remember any tune that is particularly memorable, though.
Renee Fleming's performance was not as great as I expected. This must be the fourth opera I saw in recent years where she played the lead role (Violetta in La Traviata, Desdemona in Otello, and Thais) and I was impressed with my previous encounters. Today, however, her voice didn't carry as well and sounded surprisingly weak. There were impressive episodes now and then, but the overall performance seemed spotty. Indeed the witch, played by Stephanie Blythe, did much better in my opinion.
The story was a bit too “childish” and too straightforward. It reminds me of one of Andersen's Fables (indeed the Little Mermaid is quite similar, I am told). The only twist is that prince dies when he abandons Rusalka. Usually it is the heroine that dies, although in this case her ultimate fate is not resolved.
The orchestra played well, with crisp lines. The harpist was quite busy describing the shimmering water. The animals at the witch's brewing scene elicited a few laughs from the audience.
That the opera is in Czech adds a degree of exoticism to it. However, with subtitles it could be in Italian, French, or even English! I did learn the word “Yeda” means “alas”, though.
All said, however, this is not a bad opera to see. Except my expectations were very high. I postponed my trip to Hong Kong so I wouldn't miss this episode, after all.
I have not been able to locate a review of the current performance. A New York Times review of a 2004 performance gave high marks to Renee Fleming. The reviewer thought she did well even during the time she was mute and didn't sing.
[Note added 4/6/09] I managed to find the New York Times review of the current performance. The reviewer thought highly of the performance, but was non-plused as to why the audience wasn't more enthusiastic. A case of the masses must be properly educated?
Monday, February 09, 2009
New York Philharmonic – Kurt Mazur, conductor; Anne-Sophie Mutter; Vocal Soloists; Westminster Symphonic Choir. February 7, 2009.
Avery Fisher Hall at Lincoln Center, First Tier Center (Seat CC16, $59)
All-Mendelssohn (1809-47) Program
Overture to Ruy Blas, Op. 95 (1839).
Concerto in E minor for Violin and Orchestra, Op. 64 (1844).
Die erste Walpurgisnacht (The First Walpurgis Night), Op. 60 (1830-32, rev. 1844)
First, the specifics. I couldn't put all the soloists' names in the title, so for completeness: Christine Knorren, mezzo-soprano; Jorma Silvasti, tenor; Albert Dohmen, bass-baritone; Thorsten Grumbel, bass; Westminster Symphonic Choir, Joe Miller, director. With regard to the music, the violin concerto consists of three movements played without pause: Allegro molto appassionato; Andante; Allegretto ma non troppo – Allegro molto vivace. The choral piece has many parts:
Overture: Bad Weather (Allegro con fuoco)
The Transition to Spring (Allegro vivace non troppo)
1. Allegro vivace non troppo; Allegro assai vivace (tenor and chorus)
2. Allegretto non troppo (mezzo-soprano and chorus)
3. Andante maestoso (bass-baritone and chorus)
4. Allegro leggier (chorus)
5. Recitative: Allegro moderato (bass and chorus)
6. Allegro molto (chorus)
7. L’istesso tempo – Andante maestoso (bass-baritone and chorus)
8. Allegro non troppo (tenor and chorus)
9. Andante maestoso (bass-baritone and chorus)
We went to the concert together with the Yangs. We first stopped by Jersey City and had noodles at a Vietnamese restaurant: pretty inexpensive fare which Anne found quite enjoyable.
I didn’t realize Mendelssohn was considered a genius on par with Mozart, and that he died at an early age of 37 or so. Equally tragic was that his sister Fanny died while conducting a rehearsal of the “Night” piece played at tonight’s concert.
Mendelssohn, by choice, wrote classical music in the tradition of the masters, and his music is thus quite easy to understand and appreciate (as opposed to, say, Berlioz). Tonight’s selection is no exception. The overture is to a story by Goethe that is rather bleak, although I honestly wouldn’t be able to tell by listening to it. The orchestra was not at its full strength (actually for the entire program tonight), perhaps some people left early to get a head start on their tour next week?
I was surprised at how weak Mutter’s violin sounded. It was as if the instrument was muted. Which is a pity, as Mutter played the piece quite well. She did have some unusual tempos for some passages, which I though was not necessary: there being no need to find new interpretations for the piece. Per Wikipedia, she owns 2 Stradivarius violins, I wonder if she used one of those for tonight?
It is a bit disappointing that the “Night” piece was chosen as the last piece for the evening. I am sure one could have picked a more fulfilling Mendelssohn piece. That it isn’t that popular is attested by the fact that the last time it was played at NY Philharmonic was in 1997, also conducted by Mazur. Nevertheless, it was a reasonable enjoyable piece of music, with lyrics based on another Goethe work. The choir, from Rider College in Princeton, was 120-member strong, and they sang quite well.
Mazur, in his early 80s, looked quite well, except for the shaking in his hands, which we also noticed at the last concert of his we saw.
Overall, an enjoyable concert. I couldn't find a published review of the concert.
All-Mendelssohn (1809-47) Program
Overture to Ruy Blas, Op. 95 (1839).
Concerto in E minor for Violin and Orchestra, Op. 64 (1844).
Die erste Walpurgisnacht (The First Walpurgis Night), Op. 60 (1830-32, rev. 1844)
First, the specifics. I couldn't put all the soloists' names in the title, so for completeness: Christine Knorren, mezzo-soprano; Jorma Silvasti, tenor; Albert Dohmen, bass-baritone; Thorsten Grumbel, bass; Westminster Symphonic Choir, Joe Miller, director. With regard to the music, the violin concerto consists of three movements played without pause: Allegro molto appassionato; Andante; Allegretto ma non troppo – Allegro molto vivace. The choral piece has many parts:
Overture: Bad Weather (Allegro con fuoco)
The Transition to Spring (Allegro vivace non troppo)
1. Allegro vivace non troppo; Allegro assai vivace (tenor and chorus)
2. Allegretto non troppo (mezzo-soprano and chorus)
3. Andante maestoso (bass-baritone and chorus)
4. Allegro leggier (chorus)
5. Recitative: Allegro moderato (bass and chorus)
6. Allegro molto (chorus)
7. L’istesso tempo – Andante maestoso (bass-baritone and chorus)
8. Allegro non troppo (tenor and chorus)
9. Andante maestoso (bass-baritone and chorus)
We went to the concert together with the Yangs. We first stopped by Jersey City and had noodles at a Vietnamese restaurant: pretty inexpensive fare which Anne found quite enjoyable.
I didn’t realize Mendelssohn was considered a genius on par with Mozart, and that he died at an early age of 37 or so. Equally tragic was that his sister Fanny died while conducting a rehearsal of the “Night” piece played at tonight’s concert.
Mendelssohn, by choice, wrote classical music in the tradition of the masters, and his music is thus quite easy to understand and appreciate (as opposed to, say, Berlioz). Tonight’s selection is no exception. The overture is to a story by Goethe that is rather bleak, although I honestly wouldn’t be able to tell by listening to it. The orchestra was not at its full strength (actually for the entire program tonight), perhaps some people left early to get a head start on their tour next week?
I was surprised at how weak Mutter’s violin sounded. It was as if the instrument was muted. Which is a pity, as Mutter played the piece quite well. She did have some unusual tempos for some passages, which I though was not necessary: there being no need to find new interpretations for the piece. Per Wikipedia, she owns 2 Stradivarius violins, I wonder if she used one of those for tonight?
It is a bit disappointing that the “Night” piece was chosen as the last piece for the evening. I am sure one could have picked a more fulfilling Mendelssohn piece. That it isn’t that popular is attested by the fact that the last time it was played at NY Philharmonic was in 1997, also conducted by Mazur. Nevertheless, it was a reasonable enjoyable piece of music, with lyrics based on another Goethe work. The choir, from Rider College in Princeton, was 120-member strong, and they sang quite well.
Mazur, in his early 80s, looked quite well, except for the shaking in his hands, which we also noticed at the last concert of his we saw.
Overall, an enjoyable concert. I couldn't find a published review of the concert.
Wednesday, February 04, 2009
Opera Australia – Mozart's The Magic Flute. January 30, 2009.
Opera Theatre, Sydney Opera House. Seat Circle J22 (AUD 140).
Ollivir-Philippe Cuneo – Conductor; Tamino – Andrew Goodwin, Papageno – Warwick Fyfe, Queen of the Night – Emma Pearson, Pamina – Emma Matthews (ill), Monostatos – Kanen Breen, Sarastro – Daniel Sumegi.
Story. See previous blog.
Anne, Tim, Ruth, Alyson and I saw this opera together. All in all, it was a good experience. It is difficult not to compare the performance with the Met, but I thought Opera Australia acquitted itself quite well this time.
I have always found Mozart's comic operas to be just so-so. The Magic Flute is helped by the nice tunes and fancy staging. The Opera House is smaller than the Met, so the experience felt a bit more intimate.
While the staging was not as rapid-fire as the Met's, it had its attractive qualities. The changes from scene to scene were more subtle, so before you realize it the scenary has moved from a forest to a palace. There were lots of acrobats (“Legs on the Wall” per the program leaflet) hanging around, which to me was a bit puzzling. The designers (stage and costume) aren't as obsessed with the number “three” as the Met's, so we were not flooded with that reference. They did pay homage to the free masons by having their logo projected on the screen at times.
The most memorable songs are sung by the Queen of the Night. She has an important aria in each of the two Acts. The one in the second act calls for a high F, which Pearson couldn't quite reach. Otherwise she did a commendable job.
The “regular” Pamina was ill, so a substitute (Quan, I think) filled in for her. She did an admirable job.
The opera was written in German. In this production the songs were sung in German, and the dialog was in English. With their Australian accent (and Chinese in the case of Pamina), the actors were at times difficult to understand. Too bad they didn't provide English subtitles for the dialog.
I am glad I didn't dish out $15 for the program. Fool me twice, shame on me.
The Sydney Morning Herald gave the performance a mixed review.
Ollivir-Philippe Cuneo – Conductor; Tamino – Andrew Goodwin, Papageno – Warwick Fyfe, Queen of the Night – Emma Pearson, Pamina – Emma Matthews (ill), Monostatos – Kanen Breen, Sarastro – Daniel Sumegi.
Story. See previous blog.
Anne, Tim, Ruth, Alyson and I saw this opera together. All in all, it was a good experience. It is difficult not to compare the performance with the Met, but I thought Opera Australia acquitted itself quite well this time.
I have always found Mozart's comic operas to be just so-so. The Magic Flute is helped by the nice tunes and fancy staging. The Opera House is smaller than the Met, so the experience felt a bit more intimate.
While the staging was not as rapid-fire as the Met's, it had its attractive qualities. The changes from scene to scene were more subtle, so before you realize it the scenary has moved from a forest to a palace. There were lots of acrobats (“Legs on the Wall” per the program leaflet) hanging around, which to me was a bit puzzling. The designers (stage and costume) aren't as obsessed with the number “three” as the Met's, so we were not flooded with that reference. They did pay homage to the free masons by having their logo projected on the screen at times.
The most memorable songs are sung by the Queen of the Night. She has an important aria in each of the two Acts. The one in the second act calls for a high F, which Pearson couldn't quite reach. Otherwise she did a commendable job.
The “regular” Pamina was ill, so a substitute (Quan, I think) filled in for her. She did an admirable job.
The opera was written in German. In this production the songs were sung in German, and the dialog was in English. With their Australian accent (and Chinese in the case of Pamina), the actors were at times difficult to understand. Too bad they didn't provide English subtitles for the dialog.
I am glad I didn't dish out $15 for the program. Fool me twice, shame on me.
The Sydney Morning Herald gave the performance a mixed review.
Tuesday, January 20, 2009
New York Philharmonic – Gustavo Dudamel, conductor; Pinchas Zukerman, violin. January 16, 2009
Avery Fisher Hall at Lincoln Center, Orchestra 3 (Seat GG19, $74)
Program
Violin Concerto, Op. 30 (2001-02) by Oliver Knussen (b. 1952).
Symphony No. 5 (1901-02) by Mahler (1860-1911).
I went by myself to today’s concert mostly because of all the hype about Dudamel and wanted to see for myself what this new phenomenon is like. I think he is 27 years old, and has been named the music director of the LA Philharmonic in the coming season. I have read reviews saying he is barely 5’ tall, and spends most of the time in the air (i.e., jumping around on the podium).
To me, it’s a waste to have someone like Zukerman play a piece of work like Knussen’s violin concerto. The composer describes this work as walking on a tight rope. The opening and the closing motif (if it can be called that) is bells in the orchestra and harmonics from the soloist. And that’s about as close to a tight rope as I can imagine, not having been on one myself. Zukerman needed the music and was (alas) glued to it. Actually the whole performance looked like has was practicing the piece for a concert; although I have to say he was ready for the concert, given how technically well he played it. Unfortunately, it was played without much emotion. The violin, a Guarnerius, sounded smooth. However, it’s no match for the orchestra, confirming my opinion that a Guarnerius is more suitable for chamber music (or a chamber orchestra). The three movements (Recitative, Aria, and Gigue) are distinct enough even though the piece is played without pause.
My opinion on Dudamel after this concerto was that he is quite precise, and he spends a lot of time on the balls of his feet, rather than in the air. And he is quite a bit taller than 5’. I was in no position to say whether he led a good performance, though. He reminds me of Zhang Xian, NY Phil’s associate conductor. She is short (shorter than Dudamel appears, even with heels), and jumps around the podium.
I enjoy Mahler’s symphonies, especially the fifth ever since I played it while I was in college many years ago. I didn’t know people divided the five movments into three parts. Part I consists of (i) Funeral March: With measured step. Strict. Like a cortege; and (ii) Stormily. With greatest vehemence. Part II is “Scherzo: Vigorously, not too fast.” Part III is another two movements: (iv) Adagietto: Very slow; and (v) Rondo-Finale: Allegro giocoso. Lively. Interestingly the tempo markings (if you can call it that) are in English; past NY Phil notes had them in German.
The introduction by the brass was a bit louder than most performances I have heard before. Usually it sounded distant with gradually increasing volume; not with Dudamel, though. Other than that, I have no quibble with this most enjoyable performance. On top of that, he did the 75 minute piece from memory. One of those days some intrepid soul will try to abridge the Mahler symphonies (and the ones by others such as Bruckner) as they tend to be way too long. The two young people in front of me fell asleep and their parents kept trying to wake them up. With Mahler, it may be a bit tough as he simply moves from theme to theme without a lot of repetition. And the parts he chooses to repeat are some of the most pleasant ones in his work. In any case, this is a sad symphony, which Mahler described as “the sum of all the suffering I have been compelled to endure at the hands of life.”
I, for one, came away very impressed. The applause at the end wasn’t as prolonged as I expected, although a lot of people jumped up right afterwards. Sometimes hype is hype, sometimes hype is well-deserved.
The New York Times reviewer was very enthusiastic also. He heard only the Mahler piece.
Program
Violin Concerto, Op. 30 (2001-02) by Oliver Knussen (b. 1952).
Symphony No. 5 (1901-02) by Mahler (1860-1911).
I went by myself to today’s concert mostly because of all the hype about Dudamel and wanted to see for myself what this new phenomenon is like. I think he is 27 years old, and has been named the music director of the LA Philharmonic in the coming season. I have read reviews saying he is barely 5’ tall, and spends most of the time in the air (i.e., jumping around on the podium).
To me, it’s a waste to have someone like Zukerman play a piece of work like Knussen’s violin concerto. The composer describes this work as walking on a tight rope. The opening and the closing motif (if it can be called that) is bells in the orchestra and harmonics from the soloist. And that’s about as close to a tight rope as I can imagine, not having been on one myself. Zukerman needed the music and was (alas) glued to it. Actually the whole performance looked like has was practicing the piece for a concert; although I have to say he was ready for the concert, given how technically well he played it. Unfortunately, it was played without much emotion. The violin, a Guarnerius, sounded smooth. However, it’s no match for the orchestra, confirming my opinion that a Guarnerius is more suitable for chamber music (or a chamber orchestra). The three movements (Recitative, Aria, and Gigue) are distinct enough even though the piece is played without pause.
My opinion on Dudamel after this concerto was that he is quite precise, and he spends a lot of time on the balls of his feet, rather than in the air. And he is quite a bit taller than 5’. I was in no position to say whether he led a good performance, though. He reminds me of Zhang Xian, NY Phil’s associate conductor. She is short (shorter than Dudamel appears, even with heels), and jumps around the podium.
I enjoy Mahler’s symphonies, especially the fifth ever since I played it while I was in college many years ago. I didn’t know people divided the five movments into three parts. Part I consists of (i) Funeral March: With measured step. Strict. Like a cortege; and (ii) Stormily. With greatest vehemence. Part II is “Scherzo: Vigorously, not too fast.” Part III is another two movements: (iv) Adagietto: Very slow; and (v) Rondo-Finale: Allegro giocoso. Lively. Interestingly the tempo markings (if you can call it that) are in English; past NY Phil notes had them in German.
The introduction by the brass was a bit louder than most performances I have heard before. Usually it sounded distant with gradually increasing volume; not with Dudamel, though. Other than that, I have no quibble with this most enjoyable performance. On top of that, he did the 75 minute piece from memory. One of those days some intrepid soul will try to abridge the Mahler symphonies (and the ones by others such as Bruckner) as they tend to be way too long. The two young people in front of me fell asleep and their parents kept trying to wake them up. With Mahler, it may be a bit tough as he simply moves from theme to theme without a lot of repetition. And the parts he chooses to repeat are some of the most pleasant ones in his work. In any case, this is a sad symphony, which Mahler described as “the sum of all the suffering I have been compelled to endure at the hands of life.”
I, for one, came away very impressed. The applause at the end wasn’t as prolonged as I expected, although a lot of people jumped up right afterwards. Sometimes hype is hype, sometimes hype is well-deserved.
The New York Times reviewer was very enthusiastic also. He heard only the Mahler piece.
Wednesday, January 14, 2009
New York Philharmonic – Ludovic Morlot, conductor; Olli Mustonen, Piano. January 10, 2009.
Avery Fisher Hall at Lincoln Center, Orchestra 4 Rear (Seat JJ4, $58)
Program
Gondwana (1980; U.S. Premiere) by Tristan Murail (b. 1947).
Piano Concerto in F major, K. 413/387a (1782-83) by Mozart (1756-91).
Oiseaux exotiques, for Solo Piano and Small Orchestra (1955-56) by Messiaen (1908-92).
La Mer: Trois esquisees symphoniques (The Sea: Three Symphonic Sketches; 1903-05, rev. 1910) by Debussy (1862-1918).
Morlot burst onto the scene in early 2006 as a last-minute stand-in for Christoph von Dohnanyi, and he got good reviews. This is now compared to the “Lenny moment” when Bernstein, at age 25, substituted for Bruno Walter. Morlot was a bit older at 32 (he is now 34), and the piece that was particularly outstanding was a piece by Elliot Carter. We actually attended that particular concert series (on March 4, 2006); I thought Morlot was okay, but didn’t have much to say about Carter’s piece.
Now Morlot has graduated to conducting a regular subscription series; he remains BSO’s assistant conductor. Today’s program was interesting in that one wonders why the Austrian Mozart would appear between three rather modern pieces by French composers. The program notes talks about how a concert program is arrived at, but it still doesn’t explain the weird juxtaposition of the pieces. Another aspect was the massive movements of seats between pieces which took up a lot of time, despite the efficiency of the black-tie staff.
Gondwana is the southern portion of Pangaea, the supercontinent some believe existed 250 million years ago that eventually broke up into today’s continents. Perhaps Mr. Murail had visions of what this looked like, because I have no idea why he thinks the music would represent this land at all. He is well-known for spectral music, which just sounded limited in range and monotonous to me. His use of ¼ tones reminds me of a piece I played at Cornell (“The apotheosis of the earth” by Karel Husa, I think; there we didn’t have to count precisely) which I found confusing even while I was performing on stage (at Carnegie Hall, by the way). Perhaps that’s the whole idea. The piece was first performed tonight in the US, nearly 40 years after it was composed. With any luck it won’t be played for another 40 years, and that would be okay. Alas, Murail now teaches at Columbia, so there may be no escape! He made a curtain call after the performance.
Morlot was very precise in his conducting. One could see clearly whether a particular measure contained 2, 3, or 4 beats. And the pattern continued with the rest of the program.
I wasn’t very familiar with this particular Mozart concerto. It is in three movements: Allegro; Larghetto; and Tempo di Menuetto. Cadenzas for the first and second movements were written by Mozart himself. Mozart evidently had some trouble selling it when it was completed.
Olli Mustonen, who conducts, performs, and composes (!), has a very unique style which is either brilliant or affected, I can’t decide. The Mozart sounded more disjoint (or spirited, depends on one’s view) than most Mozarts I have heard. There were parts I really enjoyed, and there were sections I felt a bit embarrassed about. Another first was he had the music in front of him. I can understand if he was a last-minute stand-in, but supposedly “they” started the decision process a couple of years ago.
I knew of Messiaen, but don't remember hearing any of his music. The small orchestra consisted of about 15 players, no strings, and a huge gong that sometimes took 2 people to mute. Mustonen did a brilliant job in this instance, pounding out the rapid passages with ease. Supposedly there are different colors and bird songs in the piece; I don’t have perfect pitch (color) and have limited knowledge of ornithology (birds), so most of it just flew over my head. Nonetheless the activities on stage were quite interesting to see.
We actually heard the most recent NY Philharmonic performance of La Mer conducted by David Robertson, and I had a so-so review of the piece. It was much more enjoyable this time though. Whether it is the conductor, or Debussy sounded down-right traditional compared to Murail and Messiaen, I don’t know. To be fair to Morlot, Robertson’s program was quite contemporary also.
Our seats were in the back of the orchestra section. They had a good view of the orchestra, and the acoustics was quite good. They are among the least expensive of seats, go figure.
Strangely enough, I actually quite enjoyed the concert. The New York Times review opens with a couple of paragraphs of high praise that's not quite supported by the rest of the generally narrow-in-scope article. The reviewer describes Mustonen's performance as "quirky."
Heavy snow was forecast for tonight. When it looked okay at around 5 pm, we decided to drive into the city. Turns out to be a good decision: we zipped in and out of town without any trouble. The water heater in our house broke, so we stopped by Ellie and Kuau’s place after the concert to take a hot shower. And there was no more than 1/2 " of snow on the ground.
Program
Gondwana (1980; U.S. Premiere) by Tristan Murail (b. 1947).
Piano Concerto in F major, K. 413/387a (1782-83) by Mozart (1756-91).
Oiseaux exotiques, for Solo Piano and Small Orchestra (1955-56) by Messiaen (1908-92).
La Mer: Trois esquisees symphoniques (The Sea: Three Symphonic Sketches; 1903-05, rev. 1910) by Debussy (1862-1918).
Morlot burst onto the scene in early 2006 as a last-minute stand-in for Christoph von Dohnanyi, and he got good reviews. This is now compared to the “Lenny moment” when Bernstein, at age 25, substituted for Bruno Walter. Morlot was a bit older at 32 (he is now 34), and the piece that was particularly outstanding was a piece by Elliot Carter. We actually attended that particular concert series (on March 4, 2006); I thought Morlot was okay, but didn’t have much to say about Carter’s piece.
Now Morlot has graduated to conducting a regular subscription series; he remains BSO’s assistant conductor. Today’s program was interesting in that one wonders why the Austrian Mozart would appear between three rather modern pieces by French composers. The program notes talks about how a concert program is arrived at, but it still doesn’t explain the weird juxtaposition of the pieces. Another aspect was the massive movements of seats between pieces which took up a lot of time, despite the efficiency of the black-tie staff.
Gondwana is the southern portion of Pangaea, the supercontinent some believe existed 250 million years ago that eventually broke up into today’s continents. Perhaps Mr. Murail had visions of what this looked like, because I have no idea why he thinks the music would represent this land at all. He is well-known for spectral music, which just sounded limited in range and monotonous to me. His use of ¼ tones reminds me of a piece I played at Cornell (“The apotheosis of the earth” by Karel Husa, I think; there we didn’t have to count precisely) which I found confusing even while I was performing on stage (at Carnegie Hall, by the way). Perhaps that’s the whole idea. The piece was first performed tonight in the US, nearly 40 years after it was composed. With any luck it won’t be played for another 40 years, and that would be okay. Alas, Murail now teaches at Columbia, so there may be no escape! He made a curtain call after the performance.
Morlot was very precise in his conducting. One could see clearly whether a particular measure contained 2, 3, or 4 beats. And the pattern continued with the rest of the program.
I wasn’t very familiar with this particular Mozart concerto. It is in three movements: Allegro; Larghetto; and Tempo di Menuetto. Cadenzas for the first and second movements were written by Mozart himself. Mozart evidently had some trouble selling it when it was completed.
Olli Mustonen, who conducts, performs, and composes (!), has a very unique style which is either brilliant or affected, I can’t decide. The Mozart sounded more disjoint (or spirited, depends on one’s view) than most Mozarts I have heard. There were parts I really enjoyed, and there were sections I felt a bit embarrassed about. Another first was he had the music in front of him. I can understand if he was a last-minute stand-in, but supposedly “they” started the decision process a couple of years ago.
I knew of Messiaen, but don't remember hearing any of his music. The small orchestra consisted of about 15 players, no strings, and a huge gong that sometimes took 2 people to mute. Mustonen did a brilliant job in this instance, pounding out the rapid passages with ease. Supposedly there are different colors and bird songs in the piece; I don’t have perfect pitch (color) and have limited knowledge of ornithology (birds), so most of it just flew over my head. Nonetheless the activities on stage were quite interesting to see.
We actually heard the most recent NY Philharmonic performance of La Mer conducted by David Robertson, and I had a so-so review of the piece. It was much more enjoyable this time though. Whether it is the conductor, or Debussy sounded down-right traditional compared to Murail and Messiaen, I don’t know. To be fair to Morlot, Robertson’s program was quite contemporary also.
Our seats were in the back of the orchestra section. They had a good view of the orchestra, and the acoustics was quite good. They are among the least expensive of seats, go figure.
Strangely enough, I actually quite enjoyed the concert. The New York Times review opens with a couple of paragraphs of high praise that's not quite supported by the rest of the generally narrow-in-scope article. The reviewer describes Mustonen's performance as "quirky."
Heavy snow was forecast for tonight. When it looked okay at around 5 pm, we decided to drive into the city. Turns out to be a good decision: we zipped in and out of town without any trouble. The water heater in our house broke, so we stopped by Ellie and Kuau’s place after the concert to take a hot shower. And there was no more than 1/2 " of snow on the ground.
Tuesday, January 06, 2009
Metropolitan Opera – Massenet’s Thais, January 5, 2009.
Metropolitan Opera at Lincoln Center – Orchestra, Seat CC36 ($71.50).
Story. The monk Athanael wants to convert Thais, goddess of Venus in Alexandria, to Christianity. He visits his friend Nicias who has purchased the services of Thais and meets with Thais. After an all-night struggle, Thais decides to abandon her old ways. She burns down her house, including the statute Eros – a symbol of love – and joins a convent. During her 3-month stay at the convent, she leads a completely saintly life and her body is at the end of her strength. Meanwhile, Athanael finds himself in love with Thais and renounces his faith so he can be with her. When he gets to the convent, Thais dies.
Conductor – Jesus Lopez-Cobos; Thais – Renee Fleming, Athanael – Thomas Hampson, Palemon – Alain Vernhes, Nicias – Michael Schade.
The violin solo “Meditation” is a popular piece played by aspiring violinists. It is a nice melody and is relatively easy to play (perhaps even well). I have know “Thais” since I was a teenager, but had no idea what the opera was about.
We came back from Florida this morning, waking up at 4:30 am to catch an early flight. The opera was enjoyable enough that I had no trouble staying awake, although by the time we got home it was past midnight. To be fair, I did nap for an hour or so in the afternoon.
The story is quite simple, actually I thought some scenes were a bit long for what they want to accomplish. An example would be the time it took for Athanael to dress properly for the evening at Nicias’ house. The music was pleasant enough that for most part I didn’t mind.
The singing was excellent by all the principals. Actually the supporting cast did very well also. Renee Fleming, as usual, was exquisite. She did have trouble with one note (that I noticed), though. I don’t know how high she had to reach, but you can tell she wanted to make sure she got the note before stressing it. I imagine she is at the peak of her career at this point. The male protagonist is one of those rare baritone roles, and Hampson did it very well.
There were many scene changes, with a couple of pauses between scenes in Acts 1 and 3. Meditation was played between the scenes in Act 2. There was tremendous applause which I found puzzling. I am sure the soloist (John Chan, the concertmaster) is a great musician, but I certainly don’t think the applause, especially compared to that gotten by the singers, was warranted. Interestingly, the theme is reused many times after its introduction, and Fleming sang some of those parts. She was a bit weak at the low registers.
The program notes describes how the music for Athanael changes from nice to disjointed as he falls from grace, and cites that as an example of how great the opera is. Indeed that is true, but I would suggest instead of reading too much into the opera, one should just enjoy it as a pleasant work with good drama and great music. This is somewhat like Mendelssohn’s violin concerto: enjoy it, don’t analyze it.
There must be something about French opera composers that make them include a dance number in their works. There is one here, and of course there are dances in Saint-Saen’s Samson & Delilah and Bizet’s Carmen.
The program notes also talks about the new production, and how the clothes were designed by Christian Lacroix to match the occasion. I think it is a bit over the top.
A few anachronistic instances of note. The guard had a gun, I’m sure it wasn’t around during the 4th century AD. Also, Nicias threw out paper money to distract the crowd so Thais and Athanael could escape. I’m sure they didn’t use paper money then, either.
One note about the seat. We were in the orchestra section, towards the rear. The acoustics were a bit funny at the edge of the section: probably due to the overhang of the boxes above the seats. In Act 3 we managed to move a bit closer to the center, and the acoustics were much better just 2 seats over.
I am glad we went. The New York Times reviewer has a view very similar to mine, except the writer did a much better job writing.
Story. The monk Athanael wants to convert Thais, goddess of Venus in Alexandria, to Christianity. He visits his friend Nicias who has purchased the services of Thais and meets with Thais. After an all-night struggle, Thais decides to abandon her old ways. She burns down her house, including the statute Eros – a symbol of love – and joins a convent. During her 3-month stay at the convent, she leads a completely saintly life and her body is at the end of her strength. Meanwhile, Athanael finds himself in love with Thais and renounces his faith so he can be with her. When he gets to the convent, Thais dies.
Conductor – Jesus Lopez-Cobos; Thais – Renee Fleming, Athanael – Thomas Hampson, Palemon – Alain Vernhes, Nicias – Michael Schade.
The violin solo “Meditation” is a popular piece played by aspiring violinists. It is a nice melody and is relatively easy to play (perhaps even well). I have know “Thais” since I was a teenager, but had no idea what the opera was about.
We came back from Florida this morning, waking up at 4:30 am to catch an early flight. The opera was enjoyable enough that I had no trouble staying awake, although by the time we got home it was past midnight. To be fair, I did nap for an hour or so in the afternoon.
The story is quite simple, actually I thought some scenes were a bit long for what they want to accomplish. An example would be the time it took for Athanael to dress properly for the evening at Nicias’ house. The music was pleasant enough that for most part I didn’t mind.
The singing was excellent by all the principals. Actually the supporting cast did very well also. Renee Fleming, as usual, was exquisite. She did have trouble with one note (that I noticed), though. I don’t know how high she had to reach, but you can tell she wanted to make sure she got the note before stressing it. I imagine she is at the peak of her career at this point. The male protagonist is one of those rare baritone roles, and Hampson did it very well.
There were many scene changes, with a couple of pauses between scenes in Acts 1 and 3. Meditation was played between the scenes in Act 2. There was tremendous applause which I found puzzling. I am sure the soloist (John Chan, the concertmaster) is a great musician, but I certainly don’t think the applause, especially compared to that gotten by the singers, was warranted. Interestingly, the theme is reused many times after its introduction, and Fleming sang some of those parts. She was a bit weak at the low registers.
The program notes describes how the music for Athanael changes from nice to disjointed as he falls from grace, and cites that as an example of how great the opera is. Indeed that is true, but I would suggest instead of reading too much into the opera, one should just enjoy it as a pleasant work with good drama and great music. This is somewhat like Mendelssohn’s violin concerto: enjoy it, don’t analyze it.
There must be something about French opera composers that make them include a dance number in their works. There is one here, and of course there are dances in Saint-Saen’s Samson & Delilah and Bizet’s Carmen.
The program notes also talks about the new production, and how the clothes were designed by Christian Lacroix to match the occasion. I think it is a bit over the top.
A few anachronistic instances of note. The guard had a gun, I’m sure it wasn’t around during the 4th century AD. Also, Nicias threw out paper money to distract the crowd so Thais and Athanael could escape. I’m sure they didn’t use paper money then, either.
One note about the seat. We were in the orchestra section, towards the rear. The acoustics were a bit funny at the edge of the section: probably due to the overhang of the boxes above the seats. In Act 3 we managed to move a bit closer to the center, and the acoustics were much better just 2 seats over.
I am glad we went. The New York Times reviewer has a view very similar to mine, except the writer did a much better job writing.
Saturday, December 13, 2008
The National Chorale & Orchestra – Martin Josman, Music Director. December 12, 2008.
Avery Fisher Hall at Lincoln Center, Third Tier Right (Seat BB109, $52).
Program
Messiah (1741) by George Frideric Handel
Jee Hyun Lim, Soprano
Jennifer Roderer, Alto
Matt Morgan, Tenor
Derrick Parker, Bass
Since I was quite disappointed at the last National Chorale concert I went to, and since I was quite jet-lagged from my Hong Kong trip, I wasn’t looking forward to tonight’s performance. In the end I enjoyed this concert. Anne & I took the train in and managed a simple meal at China Fun. Shirley and Chung Shu drove in; it took them 2 ½ hours because Lincoln Tunnel was quite congested.
Again I was surprised at the small orchestra (5 first violins, e.g.). Turns out it was quite adequate for the 40 singers in the chorale. Indeed often times only one of the two cellos was playing. The concert wasn’t sold out, but there were enough attendees to make it respectable.
The start was tentative, fortunately the group improved as the performance continued. The tenor certainly was impressive, unfortunately he was the best of the lot. The bass’s voice was one of the strangest I have heard. It didn’t project, and Chung Shu described it as a bowling ball sloshing around in a square box requiring echo cancellation. The alto was also quite good. The soprano’s voice projected well but I had trouble with the words.
The choir was certainly together in getting their s’s and t’s out at the same time. I later noticed the conductor was very careful with cueing them in. The sopranos strained to reach the high notes. Towards the end the singing got somewhat sloppy. It is a rather long piece, and I am sure they were all a bit tired. (Total time was 2 hours 45 minutes, with a 30 or so minute intermission.) However, the conductor seemed to pay most of his attention to the choir, and the orchestra’s performance suffered, possibly as a result.
I was surprised at the instrumentation of the piece: no flutes, for instance. And one of the trumpet players was using (I think) a piccolo trumpet with 4 “plungers” instead of the usual three. The timpanist could dampen the drums after the notes a bit more diligently, there was a bit too much echo.
I felt a bit sorry for the conductor as he seemed not able to stand straight. His movements also were minimal, but basically got the job done (other than my note about not paying enough attention to the orchestra.) I wish he was a bit more animated, though, since the music was quite exciting.
Our seats, while furthest away from the stage, had good acoustics, and we could hear very well. Overall, tonight was a rather enjoyable evening, the concert’s length and my tiredness notwithstanding.
Program
Messiah (1741) by George Frideric Handel
Jee Hyun Lim, Soprano
Jennifer Roderer, Alto
Matt Morgan, Tenor
Derrick Parker, Bass
Since I was quite disappointed at the last National Chorale concert I went to, and since I was quite jet-lagged from my Hong Kong trip, I wasn’t looking forward to tonight’s performance. In the end I enjoyed this concert. Anne & I took the train in and managed a simple meal at China Fun. Shirley and Chung Shu drove in; it took them 2 ½ hours because Lincoln Tunnel was quite congested.
Again I was surprised at the small orchestra (5 first violins, e.g.). Turns out it was quite adequate for the 40 singers in the chorale. Indeed often times only one of the two cellos was playing. The concert wasn’t sold out, but there were enough attendees to make it respectable.
The start was tentative, fortunately the group improved as the performance continued. The tenor certainly was impressive, unfortunately he was the best of the lot. The bass’s voice was one of the strangest I have heard. It didn’t project, and Chung Shu described it as a bowling ball sloshing around in a square box requiring echo cancellation. The alto was also quite good. The soprano’s voice projected well but I had trouble with the words.
The choir was certainly together in getting their s’s and t’s out at the same time. I later noticed the conductor was very careful with cueing them in. The sopranos strained to reach the high notes. Towards the end the singing got somewhat sloppy. It is a rather long piece, and I am sure they were all a bit tired. (Total time was 2 hours 45 minutes, with a 30 or so minute intermission.) However, the conductor seemed to pay most of his attention to the choir, and the orchestra’s performance suffered, possibly as a result.
I was surprised at the instrumentation of the piece: no flutes, for instance. And one of the trumpet players was using (I think) a piccolo trumpet with 4 “plungers” instead of the usual three. The timpanist could dampen the drums after the notes a bit more diligently, there was a bit too much echo.
I felt a bit sorry for the conductor as he seemed not able to stand straight. His movements also were minimal, but basically got the job done (other than my note about not paying enough attention to the orchestra.) I wish he was a bit more animated, though, since the music was quite exciting.
Our seats, while furthest away from the stage, had good acoustics, and we could hear very well. Overall, tonight was a rather enjoyable evening, the concert’s length and my tiredness notwithstanding.
Tuesday, December 02, 2008
New York Philharmonic - Lorin Maazel, conductor; Julia Fischer, violin. November 29, 2008.
Avery Fisher Hall at Lincoln Center, Third Tier Center (Seat EE5, $48)
Program
Brandenburg Concerto No. 1 in F major, BWV 1046 (ca. 1717-23) by J.S. Bach (1685-1750).
Violin Concerto No. 5 in A Major, K. 219, Turkish (1775) by Mozart (1756-91).
Symphony No. 4 in D minor, Op. 120 (1841/1851) by Schumann (1810-56).
We bought these tickets a couple of weeks ago (at least we thought we did) so we can spend the evening with Ellie and Kuau. Earlier in the day I couldn't find the tickets, and then discovered I was issued the tickets for Dec 9 (Elektra). Not only did I have no intention of seeing Strauss, I will be out of town on that day anyway. After some frantic wringing of the hands and calling the Box Office, I ended up purchasing new tickets for tonight's concert, and exchange the 4 Elektra tickets for 2 sets of 2 tickets for later concerts. (And ended up spending an additional $280 or so on NY Philharmonic.) All is well that ends well, though.
We drove in to NYC. We had no trouble doing that yesterday for the opera, and Friday after Thanksgiving is usually one of those aweful "gridlock" days. And there was also minimal congestion tonight. Perhaps the economy is really quite bad? We had a simple dinner at China Fun, and Ellie couldn't pass up buying a few cupcakes at Magnolia Bakery.
I am actually not familiar with Brandenburg No. 1. These six concertos were written by Bach as "audition" pieces for a position with the Margrave of (where else) Brandenburg; and Bach ended up not going. The movements are [Allegro]; Adagio; Allegro; Menuet: Trio I - Polacca: Trio II. The solo parts were played by Glenn Dictoerow (violin); Liang Wang, Sherry Sylar, Robert Botti (oboe); Judith LeClair (bassoon); Philip Myers, R. Allen Spanjer (horn); and Lionel Party (harpsichord). There were no flutes (solo or orchestra) in this piece. (Mozart didn't write any parts for flute either in Violin Concerto No. 5.) The performance didn't quite have the tight architecture feel one expects of Bach, the solo parts seemed more like on their own than being part of an integrated piece, and I was particularly disappointed at the solo violin (Dicterow has perfect pitch, per Program Notes). Ellie pointed out the violin was tuned a minor third higher to mimic a period instrument (the piccolo violin). This may or may not explain why it sounded the way it did. Another surprise is that Maazel conducted with the musical score.
The violin concerto is a familiar one, and technically not very challenging. Mozart wrote it when he was nineteen. The movements are Allegro aperto; Adagio; and Rondeau (Tempo di Menuetto). Fischer, at 25, is the youngest professor of violin in Germany. The program doesn't specify the violin she plays, but it didn't sound brilliant enough to be a Stradivarious or soft enough to be an Amati or Guarnerius. The is confirmed by her Wikipedia entry, which says she is also a pianist who has won several prizes in that instrument. Nonetheless, I thought the second and third movements were quite flat.
They rang the bell at about 10 minutes into the intermission so I rushed back to my seat. Turns out the total intermission was about 30 minutes long. Go figure.
Schmann's fourth symphony was written and edited by the composer in the span of 10 years (about his entire symphony-writing period), and he stopped composing soon after completing it. The movements are played without pause: Fairly slow - Lively; Romance: Fairly slow; Scherzo: Lively; and Slow- Lively - Faster - Presto. (Why would the description be in English?) A couple of motifs/themes seem to recur throughout, making the identification of where things are particularly difficult. Maazel conducted both the Mozart and this without music, and he did this with great enthusiasm, and the orchestra responded the same way. The piece was very enjoyable.
Ellie asked me if I was ever impressed with performances I go to. I told her at the end of the program the Schumann would be an example of something done very well.
The New York Times reviewer saw the program on a different date. Fischer was wearing a red dress on that day (black on the day we saw her play). The reviewer was much kinder than I am. Evidently Maazel hasn't done much Baroque music during his tenure with the Philharmonic.
Program
Brandenburg Concerto No. 1 in F major, BWV 1046 (ca. 1717-23) by J.S. Bach (1685-1750).
Violin Concerto No. 5 in A Major, K. 219, Turkish (1775) by Mozart (1756-91).
Symphony No. 4 in D minor, Op. 120 (1841/1851) by Schumann (1810-56).
We bought these tickets a couple of weeks ago (at least we thought we did) so we can spend the evening with Ellie and Kuau. Earlier in the day I couldn't find the tickets, and then discovered I was issued the tickets for Dec 9 (Elektra). Not only did I have no intention of seeing Strauss, I will be out of town on that day anyway. After some frantic wringing of the hands and calling the Box Office, I ended up purchasing new tickets for tonight's concert, and exchange the 4 Elektra tickets for 2 sets of 2 tickets for later concerts. (And ended up spending an additional $280 or so on NY Philharmonic.) All is well that ends well, though.
We drove in to NYC. We had no trouble doing that yesterday for the opera, and Friday after Thanksgiving is usually one of those aweful "gridlock" days. And there was also minimal congestion tonight. Perhaps the economy is really quite bad? We had a simple dinner at China Fun, and Ellie couldn't pass up buying a few cupcakes at Magnolia Bakery.
I am actually not familiar with Brandenburg No. 1. These six concertos were written by Bach as "audition" pieces for a position with the Margrave of (where else) Brandenburg; and Bach ended up not going. The movements are [Allegro]; Adagio; Allegro; Menuet: Trio I - Polacca: Trio II. The solo parts were played by Glenn Dictoerow (violin); Liang Wang, Sherry Sylar, Robert Botti (oboe); Judith LeClair (bassoon); Philip Myers, R. Allen Spanjer (horn); and Lionel Party (harpsichord). There were no flutes (solo or orchestra) in this piece. (Mozart didn't write any parts for flute either in Violin Concerto No. 5.) The performance didn't quite have the tight architecture feel one expects of Bach, the solo parts seemed more like on their own than being part of an integrated piece, and I was particularly disappointed at the solo violin (Dicterow has perfect pitch, per Program Notes). Ellie pointed out the violin was tuned a minor third higher to mimic a period instrument (the piccolo violin). This may or may not explain why it sounded the way it did. Another surprise is that Maazel conducted with the musical score.
The violin concerto is a familiar one, and technically not very challenging. Mozart wrote it when he was nineteen. The movements are Allegro aperto; Adagio; and Rondeau (Tempo di Menuetto). Fischer, at 25, is the youngest professor of violin in Germany. The program doesn't specify the violin she plays, but it didn't sound brilliant enough to be a Stradivarious or soft enough to be an Amati or Guarnerius. The is confirmed by her Wikipedia entry, which says she is also a pianist who has won several prizes in that instrument. Nonetheless, I thought the second and third movements were quite flat.
They rang the bell at about 10 minutes into the intermission so I rushed back to my seat. Turns out the total intermission was about 30 minutes long. Go figure.
Schmann's fourth symphony was written and edited by the composer in the span of 10 years (about his entire symphony-writing period), and he stopped composing soon after completing it. The movements are played without pause: Fairly slow - Lively; Romance: Fairly slow; Scherzo: Lively; and Slow- Lively - Faster - Presto. (Why would the description be in English?) A couple of motifs/themes seem to recur throughout, making the identification of where things are particularly difficult. Maazel conducted both the Mozart and this without music, and he did this with great enthusiasm, and the orchestra responded the same way. The piece was very enjoyable.
Ellie asked me if I was ever impressed with performances I go to. I told her at the end of the program the Schumann would be an example of something done very well.
The New York Times reviewer saw the program on a different date. Fischer was wearing a red dress on that day (black on the day we saw her play). The reviewer was much kinder than I am. Evidently Maazel hasn't done much Baroque music during his tenure with the Philharmonic.
Metropolitan Opera - Wagner's Tristan und Isolde, November 28, 2008.
Metropolitan Opera at Lincoln Center - Dress Circle, Seat E113 ($96.50).
Story. Tristan kills Irish Princess Isolde's finance Morold. He is wounded and Isolde heals him with her magic powers. Tristan later returns to Ireland to take Isolde to Cornwall to marry King Marke; however, the two fall in love. When Isolde's maid Brangane substitute a love potion for a poison, the attempted suicide by Tristan and Isolde results in them falling into each other's arms. When the two lovers meet in secret in Cornwall, they are discovered and denounced by the jealous knight Melot. King Marke, who treats Tristan as his own son, is greatly disappointed. After mortally wounded by Melot, Tristan is taken by his friend Kurwenal to Brittany. Marke and Melot come to Brittany; Melot is killed by Kurwenal, who is subsequently killed by the king's soldiers. Marke actually comes to pardon the lovers, but Tristan ends up dying in Isolde's arms, and Isolde dies upon his body. The story concludes with the lovers appearing together in the world beyond.
Conductor - Daniel Barenboim; Isolde - Katarina Dalayman, Brangane - Michelle DeYoung, Tristan - Peter Seiffert, King Marke - Rene Pape.
This is a long opera. The entire production is five hours long, with 2 intermissions of about 1/2 hour each. The role of Tristan is extremely difficult - high notes and a great deal of singing. An analogy would be a pitcher pitching all 18 innings of a double header. I do not know how great a singer Sieffert is, but his voice certainly tailed off at the end. And he had to sing this very long soliloquy in Act III. My reaction was somewhere between admiration and pity.
The Isolde part must be difficult also. But as the Program Notes say, it is a less demanding one. Brangane has to do quite a bit of singing also, and DeYoung did it well. Pape did an excellent job singing the role of King Marke. His voice was so strong that it was a bit out of balance in my view. Nonetheless, he deserved the applause the audience gave him at curtain call.
The story should be simple enough, but I find both the Program synopsis and the English subtitles a bit confusing. Maazel said somewhere that Wagner was a great composer but only a so-so librettist. Similar sentiments by the Program Annotator here.
To me the music has several interesting characteristics. First, we really thought we must know a couple of tunes from this opera, but turns out it sounded all new to us. Second, the tunes are very atonal; I couldn't tell whether some of the a capella singing was in tune, but I would swear it sounded off when the orchestra came in. Third, the English horn played a beautiful tune during Act III; we kept looking, but couldn't find it. Towards Act I there was this brass group in one of the top tier boxes, with their own conductor. We found Brangane in the orchestra pit. Fourth, as suggested by the Program Notes, to illustrate the sentiments of unrequited love, the chords never quite resolve themselves; this gives a strange quality to the music. Fifth, the melodies (such as they are) are mostly found in the orchestra; the singers tend to sing these high notes that provide harmony. Indeed the music made more "sense" when I tried to listen to the orchestra; but that is an unnatural thing to do since one's attention is usually directed to the stage. I am quite sure I will enjoy the opera more when I listen to it again; but there is very little chance of that.
Speaking of staging, this is one of the most minimal sets I have seen at the Met. And frankly, I don't like it. The same basic slanted platform is used as the deck of a ship, a Cornish castle, and a Brittany castle. There are trap doors where soldiers exit, and in Act III there are these miniature statutes to denote the dreamlike recollections of Tristan.
I had never seen Barenboim in person before today. I had a chance to see him play Beethoven's Emperor's Concerto several years ago, but had to give that up because my brother was visiting. From seeing him play on TV, he seems to be quite immobile (although the music is generally great). He looked very animated and engaged when he was conducting this piece, though. Also, he is surprisingly small when standing next to the principal singers at curtain call.
The New York Times reviewer loved Barenboim. He saw the same performance we did. There is this interesting discussion on the use of prompters by the singers, especially Seiffert who evidently wore an earpiece.
Story. Tristan kills Irish Princess Isolde's finance Morold. He is wounded and Isolde heals him with her magic powers. Tristan later returns to Ireland to take Isolde to Cornwall to marry King Marke; however, the two fall in love. When Isolde's maid Brangane substitute a love potion for a poison, the attempted suicide by Tristan and Isolde results in them falling into each other's arms. When the two lovers meet in secret in Cornwall, they are discovered and denounced by the jealous knight Melot. King Marke, who treats Tristan as his own son, is greatly disappointed. After mortally wounded by Melot, Tristan is taken by his friend Kurwenal to Brittany. Marke and Melot come to Brittany; Melot is killed by Kurwenal, who is subsequently killed by the king's soldiers. Marke actually comes to pardon the lovers, but Tristan ends up dying in Isolde's arms, and Isolde dies upon his body. The story concludes with the lovers appearing together in the world beyond.
Conductor - Daniel Barenboim; Isolde - Katarina Dalayman, Brangane - Michelle DeYoung, Tristan - Peter Seiffert, King Marke - Rene Pape.
This is a long opera. The entire production is five hours long, with 2 intermissions of about 1/2 hour each. The role of Tristan is extremely difficult - high notes and a great deal of singing. An analogy would be a pitcher pitching all 18 innings of a double header. I do not know how great a singer Sieffert is, but his voice certainly tailed off at the end. And he had to sing this very long soliloquy in Act III. My reaction was somewhere between admiration and pity.
The Isolde part must be difficult also. But as the Program Notes say, it is a less demanding one. Brangane has to do quite a bit of singing also, and DeYoung did it well. Pape did an excellent job singing the role of King Marke. His voice was so strong that it was a bit out of balance in my view. Nonetheless, he deserved the applause the audience gave him at curtain call.
The story should be simple enough, but I find both the Program synopsis and the English subtitles a bit confusing. Maazel said somewhere that Wagner was a great composer but only a so-so librettist. Similar sentiments by the Program Annotator here.
To me the music has several interesting characteristics. First, we really thought we must know a couple of tunes from this opera, but turns out it sounded all new to us. Second, the tunes are very atonal; I couldn't tell whether some of the a capella singing was in tune, but I would swear it sounded off when the orchestra came in. Third, the English horn played a beautiful tune during Act III; we kept looking, but couldn't find it. Towards Act I there was this brass group in one of the top tier boxes, with their own conductor. We found Brangane in the orchestra pit. Fourth, as suggested by the Program Notes, to illustrate the sentiments of unrequited love, the chords never quite resolve themselves; this gives a strange quality to the music. Fifth, the melodies (such as they are) are mostly found in the orchestra; the singers tend to sing these high notes that provide harmony. Indeed the music made more "sense" when I tried to listen to the orchestra; but that is an unnatural thing to do since one's attention is usually directed to the stage. I am quite sure I will enjoy the opera more when I listen to it again; but there is very little chance of that.
Speaking of staging, this is one of the most minimal sets I have seen at the Met. And frankly, I don't like it. The same basic slanted platform is used as the deck of a ship, a Cornish castle, and a Brittany castle. There are trap doors where soldiers exit, and in Act III there are these miniature statutes to denote the dreamlike recollections of Tristan.
I had never seen Barenboim in person before today. I had a chance to see him play Beethoven's Emperor's Concerto several years ago, but had to give that up because my brother was visiting. From seeing him play on TV, he seems to be quite immobile (although the music is generally great). He looked very animated and engaged when he was conducting this piece, though. Also, he is surprisingly small when standing next to the principal singers at curtain call.
The New York Times reviewer loved Barenboim. He saw the same performance we did. There is this interesting discussion on the use of prompters by the singers, especially Seiffert who evidently wore an earpiece.
Saturday, November 15, 2008
Metropolitan Opera - Berlioz's La Damnation de Faust, November 14, 2008.
Metropolitan Opera at Lincoln Center - Dress Circle, Seat E17 ($111.50).
Story. See previous blog. Only item to add is the redemption of Marguerite at the end of the opera.
Conductor - James Levine; Faust - Marcello Giordani, Mephistopheles - John Relyea, Brander - Patrick Carfizzi, Marguerite - Susan Graham.
It was only 2 weeks ago that we saw this piece in Chicago, with Charles Dutoit conducting. The performance was done with singers and a rather large chorus. I enjoyed it.
Reading the synopsis would lead one to think this work is not easily amenable to being staged. Indeed the MET program notes indicated that view has been held by most until recently. Robert Lapage, the director, decided to give it a try. We saw the first performance of this new production. The results are quite remarkable.
While the costume is period-indeterminate (Faust as a legend was around in the 16th century, I am sure the devil didn't wear tight-fitting latex then), the staging was definitely modern. I am a traditional when it comes to these matters, but have to say this time it worked very well, and probably was the only way it could work given today's technology.
The main structure is several levels (four) with repeated patterns. Projectors are used to generate images on screens. Quite a few notable ones such as the library at the start, trees turning into deadwood when Mephistopheles walks towards Faust with the scroll, and Faust and Mephistopheles galloping towards hell. There was considerable stagecraft also: dancers dropping into water; Faust falling into hell; cables suspending soldiers as they marched, and devilish figures as they moved about the stage. The use of Marguerite's image as the backdrop while she sang the Romance (accompanied by the English horn) was also very interesting: I thought the image was pre-recorded, Anne – backed by the program notes – said it was live. It is also quite interesting how the soldiers marching up and down the meadow (suspended by wires) would disturb the parts of the video images where they marched. I assume it is from precise choreography rather than super-smart technology, but who knows.
I do have a few minor quibbles. There is this propensity to walk backwards that I find puzzling. It's okay, but don't seem to add to the visual image. They had five people on crosses at one point (they must be acrobats that flip from behind the trusses), but the words were about the risen Christ! And often the imagery reminds me of Fantasia – and Levine conducted the second one. I have only seen TV advertisement images of Cirque du Soleil, but people hanging from wires remind me of those ads; I found out later that Robert Lepage worked on one of the Cirque shows.
Sometimes I thought the staging was a bit too close to being blasphemous (crosses being one example). However, this work is about bargaining with the devil and going to hell for it, so may be it is necessary. I also have been studying the Book of Revelation in preparation for my Sunday school class, and the imageries there are even more challenging. Indeed Anne thought the representation of hell could have been a bit more graphic.
That was quite a writeup on the staging. How was the musical performance? I'm glad I asked.
Levine still sat down during the show, but he certainly showed a great deal of energy, and the orchestra reflected that. Of course since my senses were spread quite thin by the staging, the lighting, the chorus, the singers, the video images, and the action, my observations on the orchestra were limited. However, the music blended very well with other elements of the performance. The soloists were all great. The only weak voice was by Brander who sang the Requiem for the Rat. Marguerite was especially well done.
A few more observations. While the CSO program notes talked about the salvation of Marguerite, there was only orchestra playing during that “scene” and it didn't leave enough of an impression on me to write that salvation down in the “story” part of that blog. The Met had her climb up a long flight of stairs, straight up. I was a bit worried about whether she would fall off. The Met performance started with Faust as an old man reminiscing in the library, which I didn't get from the CSO performance either. (A question: how did he manage to get out of hell?) Even though I heard this only two weeks ago, it felt like a completely different performance. Also, I would say the difference between tonight and November 1 is a great argument for why opera is so different from a regular concert. (Well, opera tickets are also quite a bit more expensive.)
I am glad we got to go to both performances, even though it was mostly due to coincidence. See the New York Times review of the same performance.
Story. See previous blog. Only item to add is the redemption of Marguerite at the end of the opera.
Conductor - James Levine; Faust - Marcello Giordani, Mephistopheles - John Relyea, Brander - Patrick Carfizzi, Marguerite - Susan Graham.
It was only 2 weeks ago that we saw this piece in Chicago, with Charles Dutoit conducting. The performance was done with singers and a rather large chorus. I enjoyed it.
Reading the synopsis would lead one to think this work is not easily amenable to being staged. Indeed the MET program notes indicated that view has been held by most until recently. Robert Lapage, the director, decided to give it a try. We saw the first performance of this new production. The results are quite remarkable.
While the costume is period-indeterminate (Faust as a legend was around in the 16th century, I am sure the devil didn't wear tight-fitting latex then), the staging was definitely modern. I am a traditional when it comes to these matters, but have to say this time it worked very well, and probably was the only way it could work given today's technology.
The main structure is several levels (four) with repeated patterns. Projectors are used to generate images on screens. Quite a few notable ones such as the library at the start, trees turning into deadwood when Mephistopheles walks towards Faust with the scroll, and Faust and Mephistopheles galloping towards hell. There was considerable stagecraft also: dancers dropping into water; Faust falling into hell; cables suspending soldiers as they marched, and devilish figures as they moved about the stage. The use of Marguerite's image as the backdrop while she sang the Romance (accompanied by the English horn) was also very interesting: I thought the image was pre-recorded, Anne – backed by the program notes – said it was live. It is also quite interesting how the soldiers marching up and down the meadow (suspended by wires) would disturb the parts of the video images where they marched. I assume it is from precise choreography rather than super-smart technology, but who knows.
I do have a few minor quibbles. There is this propensity to walk backwards that I find puzzling. It's okay, but don't seem to add to the visual image. They had five people on crosses at one point (they must be acrobats that flip from behind the trusses), but the words were about the risen Christ! And often the imagery reminds me of Fantasia – and Levine conducted the second one. I have only seen TV advertisement images of Cirque du Soleil, but people hanging from wires remind me of those ads; I found out later that Robert Lepage worked on one of the Cirque shows.
Sometimes I thought the staging was a bit too close to being blasphemous (crosses being one example). However, this work is about bargaining with the devil and going to hell for it, so may be it is necessary. I also have been studying the Book of Revelation in preparation for my Sunday school class, and the imageries there are even more challenging. Indeed Anne thought the representation of hell could have been a bit more graphic.
That was quite a writeup on the staging. How was the musical performance? I'm glad I asked.
Levine still sat down during the show, but he certainly showed a great deal of energy, and the orchestra reflected that. Of course since my senses were spread quite thin by the staging, the lighting, the chorus, the singers, the video images, and the action, my observations on the orchestra were limited. However, the music blended very well with other elements of the performance. The soloists were all great. The only weak voice was by Brander who sang the Requiem for the Rat. Marguerite was especially well done.
A few more observations. While the CSO program notes talked about the salvation of Marguerite, there was only orchestra playing during that “scene” and it didn't leave enough of an impression on me to write that salvation down in the “story” part of that blog. The Met had her climb up a long flight of stairs, straight up. I was a bit worried about whether she would fall off. The Met performance started with Faust as an old man reminiscing in the library, which I didn't get from the CSO performance either. (A question: how did he manage to get out of hell?) Even though I heard this only two weeks ago, it felt like a completely different performance. Also, I would say the difference between tonight and November 1 is a great argument for why opera is so different from a regular concert. (Well, opera tickets are also quite a bit more expensive.)
I am glad we got to go to both performances, even though it was mostly due to coincidence. See the New York Times review of the same performance.
Monday, November 10, 2008
New York Philharmonic - Christoph Eschenback, conductor; Lang Lang, piano. November 8, 2008.
Avery Fisher Hall at Lincoln Center, Orchestra 2 (Seat D16, $54)
Program
Piano Concerto No. 1 in C major, Op. 15 (ca 1795/1800) by Beethoven (1770-1827).
Symphony No. 9 in D minor (1887-94; ed. Orel, 1934) by Anton Bruckner (1824-1896).
We attended this concert with the Yangs. Had dinner at sushi-a-go-go across the street. We managed to get 3 pre-concert talk tickets for the 4 of us, so I (being the knowledgeable one, just kidding) went to Starbucks and had coffee by myself. The Program Notes for today's concert are not that informative, more historical than musical. It talks about which was really Beethoven's first piano concerto, and that Bruckner died before completing the 9th symphony (although he had written about 200 pages of notes for the last movement). Interesting, but didn't add to my appreciation of the pieces.
Beethoven's concerto had a strong hint of Mozart to it, which is to be expected given when it was written. The three movements are Allegro con brio; Largo; and Rondo: Allegro. It's an enjoyable piece. I was a bit disappointed at Lang Lang's performance, especially since we heard Andre Watts play the piece several months ago. I was very impressed with how Watts brought out the structure of the piece. Lang Lang failed to do so, which is made worse, in my opinion, by his penchant for showmanship. The cadenza he chose was written by Beethoven (I am not familiar with it), it just sounded too long and I actually wished that it would end earlier than it did. The second movement's lead in by the piano was wandering and unfocused. Nonetheless, the crowd gave the performance a standing ovation, which I attribute to "name-recognition" rather than true appreciation. In any case, Lang Lang the musician isn't quite at the level of Lang Lang the virtuoso yet.
The Bruckner symphony's three movements are (i) Feierlich, misterioso; (ii) Scherzo: Bewegt, Lebhaft; Trio: Schnell; and (iii) Adagio: Langsam, Feierlich. Since I don't know Austrian (I'm not sure there is such a language), and have forgotten most of my German, I needed google-translate to know (a) feierlich = solemnly; (b) misterioso = mysteriously (not even a German word); (c) bewegt = with movement; (d) lebhaft = vividly; and (e) langsam = slowly. The actual performance was longer than the advertised 59 minutes; imagine what it would be like if Bruckner got to finish it. Anne and I were quite sure we heard this before, played by the Vienna Philharmonic Orchestra at Carnegie Hall, but the piece sounded unfamiliar. And I probably will say the same thing when I listen to it next time. Not that it was unpleasant, just that I didn't quite get what Bruckner was trying to say. In any case, the piece calls for four Wagner Tubas, which (according to on-line resources) is a brass instrument somewhat like a horn and a tuba combination. It evidently comes in different sizes and pitches.
The Wagner Tuba (in F)
Eschenbach is an energetic conductor. He did both pieces without music, I guess he is another of those whose mind remembers millions of musical notes. He seems to concentrate on one section at a time, and expects the rest of the orchestra to know when to begin and end a note or a phrase. Overall it worked fine, but every now and then the orchestra sounded sloppy. He is German but has had many prestigious international appointments.
This would have been a great concert had I not have such high expectations of it. The New York Times gave a mostly positive review of Lang's performance, calling the cadenza "beyond reproach", although the reviewer thought it was at times excessive also. We didn't get the encore performance the review did the previous evening.
Program
Piano Concerto No. 1 in C major, Op. 15 (ca 1795/1800) by Beethoven (1770-1827).
Symphony No. 9 in D minor (1887-94; ed. Orel, 1934) by Anton Bruckner (1824-1896).
We attended this concert with the Yangs. Had dinner at sushi-a-go-go across the street. We managed to get 3 pre-concert talk tickets for the 4 of us, so I (being the knowledgeable one, just kidding) went to Starbucks and had coffee by myself. The Program Notes for today's concert are not that informative, more historical than musical. It talks about which was really Beethoven's first piano concerto, and that Bruckner died before completing the 9th symphony (although he had written about 200 pages of notes for the last movement). Interesting, but didn't add to my appreciation of the pieces.
Beethoven's concerto had a strong hint of Mozart to it, which is to be expected given when it was written. The three movements are Allegro con brio; Largo; and Rondo: Allegro. It's an enjoyable piece. I was a bit disappointed at Lang Lang's performance, especially since we heard Andre Watts play the piece several months ago. I was very impressed with how Watts brought out the structure of the piece. Lang Lang failed to do so, which is made worse, in my opinion, by his penchant for showmanship. The cadenza he chose was written by Beethoven (I am not familiar with it), it just sounded too long and I actually wished that it would end earlier than it did. The second movement's lead in by the piano was wandering and unfocused. Nonetheless, the crowd gave the performance a standing ovation, which I attribute to "name-recognition" rather than true appreciation. In any case, Lang Lang the musician isn't quite at the level of Lang Lang the virtuoso yet.
The Bruckner symphony's three movements are (i) Feierlich, misterioso; (ii) Scherzo: Bewegt, Lebhaft; Trio: Schnell; and (iii) Adagio: Langsam, Feierlich. Since I don't know Austrian (I'm not sure there is such a language), and have forgotten most of my German, I needed google-translate to know (a) feierlich = solemnly; (b) misterioso = mysteriously (not even a German word); (c) bewegt = with movement; (d) lebhaft = vividly; and (e) langsam = slowly. The actual performance was longer than the advertised 59 minutes; imagine what it would be like if Bruckner got to finish it. Anne and I were quite sure we heard this before, played by the Vienna Philharmonic Orchestra at Carnegie Hall, but the piece sounded unfamiliar. And I probably will say the same thing when I listen to it next time. Not that it was unpleasant, just that I didn't quite get what Bruckner was trying to say. In any case, the piece calls for four Wagner Tubas, which (according to on-line resources) is a brass instrument somewhat like a horn and a tuba combination. It evidently comes in different sizes and pitches.
The Wagner Tuba (in F)
Eschenbach is an energetic conductor. He did both pieces without music, I guess he is another of those whose mind remembers millions of musical notes. He seems to concentrate on one section at a time, and expects the rest of the orchestra to know when to begin and end a note or a phrase. Overall it worked fine, but every now and then the orchestra sounded sloppy. He is German but has had many prestigious international appointments.
This would have been a great concert had I not have such high expectations of it. The New York Times gave a mostly positive review of Lang's performance, calling the cadenza "beyond reproach", although the reviewer thought it was at times excessive also. We didn't get the encore performance the review did the previous evening.
Wednesday, November 05, 2008
Chicago Symphony Orchestra – Charles Dutoit, conductor. November 1, 2008.
Symphony Center, Chicago. Upper Balcony Center Left (Seat Q103, $59)
Program
The Damnation of Faust, Dramatic Legend in Four Parts, Op. 24 (1846) by Hector Berlioz (1803-1869)
Part I: Plains of Hungary
Part II: North Germany
Part III: Marguerite's Room
Part IV
Story. Mephistopheles arranges Faust and Marguerite, who are in each other's dreams, to meet. They fall in love, and then part ways. Marguerite is condemned to death because she accidentally killed her mother. Faust signs over his life to Mephistopheles to save Marguerite but is transported to hell instead.
Susanne Mentzer, Mezzo-soprano (Marguerite)
Gregory Kunde, Tenor (Faust)
David Wilson-Johnson, Baritone (Mephistopheles)
Jonathan Lemalu, Bass (Brander)
Chicago Symphony Chorus – Duain Wolfe, director
Anima-Young Singers of Greater Chicago – Emily Ellsworth, director
We booked these tickets for our short trip to Chicago. The CSO, which began in 1891, is quite famous, having been led by such luminaries as Fritz Reiner, Gerog Solti and Daniel Barenboim. The building is named after the first director Theodore Thomas. The current director is Bernard Haitink who is now about 80 years old. The concert hall is also quite impressive, it reminds one of Carnegie Hall, except it's probably quite a bit bigger (we had to walk up to the fifth floor to our seats.) Both visibility and acoustics are good: we had a good view and could hear clearly. Orchestra members arere seated on multiple levels, making them clearly visible to the audience. There were quite a few empty seats in our section.
The orchestra, like any large orchestra, has 90 to 100 members. The chorus was quite big with 150 members, and at the end another 50 young children joined in. So there were altogether about 250 performers. Two sets of timpani (4 drums in each set) played at times by four people and brass instruments in the background make for interesting spectacle.
The work is quite long, 2 hours and 15 miinutes of actual performance. We were a bit worried about having to take the subway back to the hotel; it turned out okay though.
The program notes talk about some of the unforgettable sounds (and I quote): the brazen swagger of the Hungarian March; the flash that brings Mephistopheles and blinds Faust to all reason; the drunken “Amen” fugue sung over the demise of a rat; the remarkably sensuous, yet icy tone of Mephistopheles's lullaby, uncannily accompanied by cornet, trombones, and bassoons; the brilliant clash of two simultaneous choruses – the soldiers singing in B-flat major and in French, the students in D minor in Latin. Or the stirring heartbeats in Marguerite's music; the plaintive voice of the solo viola in her “The King of Thule” or the heartbreaking English horn solo of her Romance; Mephistopheles's Serenade, with its grand guitar strumming; Faust's noble, impassioned Invocation to Nature; the lone, ominous call of hunting horns that precedes Faust's downfall; the wild, reckless, galloping Ride to the Abyss; the final horrible babbling of the damned. We caught most of them. I am embarrassed to say the only piece familiar to me is the “Hungarian March.” The gibberish (“Has has”) sung by the chorus of the damned was quite entertaining.
For a dramatic legend, the performance wasn't particularly dramatic. They did put up subtitles in English (sung mostly in French), but the program notes don't have a copy of the libretto. The story is a bit strange, but I don't know if it is faithful to Goethe.
Not a bad concert, but not a great one either. Perhaps it was the flat dynamics, or perhaps the tenor, who had most of the singing role, wasn't that great. I am glad to have a chance to see the orchestra though. Loren Maazel and the New York Philharmonic have nothing to be ashamed of.
It turns out we booked “Faust” tickets as part of our Metropolitan Opera subscription. James Levein will be conducting, and the work will be staged. I wonder how the performances would compare.
The Tribune critic was impressed.
Program
The Damnation of Faust, Dramatic Legend in Four Parts, Op. 24 (1846) by Hector Berlioz (1803-1869)
Part I: Plains of Hungary
Part II: North Germany
Part III: Marguerite's Room
Part IV
Story. Mephistopheles arranges Faust and Marguerite, who are in each other's dreams, to meet. They fall in love, and then part ways. Marguerite is condemned to death because she accidentally killed her mother. Faust signs over his life to Mephistopheles to save Marguerite but is transported to hell instead.
Susanne Mentzer, Mezzo-soprano (Marguerite)
Gregory Kunde, Tenor (Faust)
David Wilson-Johnson, Baritone (Mephistopheles)
Jonathan Lemalu, Bass (Brander)
Chicago Symphony Chorus – Duain Wolfe, director
Anima-Young Singers of Greater Chicago – Emily Ellsworth, director
We booked these tickets for our short trip to Chicago. The CSO, which began in 1891, is quite famous, having been led by such luminaries as Fritz Reiner, Gerog Solti and Daniel Barenboim. The building is named after the first director Theodore Thomas. The current director is Bernard Haitink who is now about 80 years old. The concert hall is also quite impressive, it reminds one of Carnegie Hall, except it's probably quite a bit bigger (we had to walk up to the fifth floor to our seats.) Both visibility and acoustics are good: we had a good view and could hear clearly. Orchestra members arere seated on multiple levels, making them clearly visible to the audience. There were quite a few empty seats in our section.
The orchestra, like any large orchestra, has 90 to 100 members. The chorus was quite big with 150 members, and at the end another 50 young children joined in. So there were altogether about 250 performers. Two sets of timpani (4 drums in each set) played at times by four people and brass instruments in the background make for interesting spectacle.
The work is quite long, 2 hours and 15 miinutes of actual performance. We were a bit worried about having to take the subway back to the hotel; it turned out okay though.
The program notes talk about some of the unforgettable sounds (and I quote): the brazen swagger of the Hungarian March; the flash that brings Mephistopheles and blinds Faust to all reason; the drunken “Amen” fugue sung over the demise of a rat; the remarkably sensuous, yet icy tone of Mephistopheles's lullaby, uncannily accompanied by cornet, trombones, and bassoons; the brilliant clash of two simultaneous choruses – the soldiers singing in B-flat major and in French, the students in D minor in Latin. Or the stirring heartbeats in Marguerite's music; the plaintive voice of the solo viola in her “The King of Thule” or the heartbreaking English horn solo of her Romance; Mephistopheles's Serenade, with its grand guitar strumming; Faust's noble, impassioned Invocation to Nature; the lone, ominous call of hunting horns that precedes Faust's downfall; the wild, reckless, galloping Ride to the Abyss; the final horrible babbling of the damned. We caught most of them. I am embarrassed to say the only piece familiar to me is the “Hungarian March.” The gibberish (“Has has”) sung by the chorus of the damned was quite entertaining.
For a dramatic legend, the performance wasn't particularly dramatic. They did put up subtitles in English (sung mostly in French), but the program notes don't have a copy of the libretto. The story is a bit strange, but I don't know if it is faithful to Goethe.
Not a bad concert, but not a great one either. Perhaps it was the flat dynamics, or perhaps the tenor, who had most of the singing role, wasn't that great. I am glad to have a chance to see the orchestra though. Loren Maazel and the New York Philharmonic have nothing to be ashamed of.
It turns out we booked “Faust” tickets as part of our Metropolitan Opera subscription. James Levein will be conducting, and the work will be staged. I wonder how the performances would compare.
The Tribune critic was impressed.
Wednesday, October 29, 2008
New York Philharmonic - David Robertson, conudctor; Leonidas Kavakos, violin. October 25, 2008.
Avery Fisher Hall at Lincoln Center, Orchestra 2 (Seat E4, $54)
Program
Symphony No. 34 in C major, K. 338 (1780) by Mozart (1756-91).
Violin Concerto No. 2 BB117 (1937-38) by Bartok (1881-1945).
Symphony No. 3 in F major, Op. 90 (1882-83) by Brahms (1833-97).
We exchanged another concert for this one due to scheduling conflict, and then realized (i) we would be coming back to NYC after yesterday's concert by the National Chorale, and (ii) Kavakos would be playing another relatively modern piece. Anyhow, here we are.
People (well, the New York Times anyway) keep saying how great a programmer Robertson is. Tonight's concert comprised of a piece each from the 18th, 19th and 20th century, so at least we get to listen to music from vastly different periods.
Robertson conducted the Mozart Symphony with great gusto; a bit much for my taste. And I kept asking, how could he possibly make it more exciting for the Bartok and Beethoven pieces. Turns out he couldn't, which isn't necessarily an indictment on how the latter pieces were performed. In any case, I am not familiar with this particular symphony, and it was quite enjoyable. It came in the standard three movements of Allegro vivace; Andante di molto (piu tosto Allegretto); and Finale - Allegro vivace. There is a remark in the Program Notes about how interesting the tempo marking for the second movement was, which I am sure only an annotator would find interesting.
A couple of observations. A reduced orchestra was used for this symphony, and all the first violin players were women. Mozart was known for his love of the viola and supposedly wrote nice double parts for the instrument (in the slow movement). We were up front, on the right side of the audience, and had a good view of the viola section. Still I had to strain to hear the part(s).
I last heard Kavakos play (in 2005) the Violin Concerto by Henri Dutilleux, and had some choice words for the music and the performance. Today's performance was better, or I should say not as bad. I usually enjoy Bartok and violin music. However, this concerto seemed to wander all over the place, I couldn't figure out what Bartok was trying to say, except to demonstrate the ability of the violinist. We were seated at the front, and had a good view of the performer. The sound of his Stradivarius was great, especially in the higher registers (surprisingly weak on the low notes), and Kavakos' technique is impeccable. Unfortunately, when the performance ended I could say only "Oh, it's over." A couple of additional remarks: this time he played the piece from memory, which is quite remarkable; and the pounding the violin took was simply brutal, it had to be retuned after the first movement.
The concerto's three movements are: Allegro non troppo, Andante tranquillo, and Allegro molto, although I am not sure why Bartok bothered with the markings. Also, notice there is no key to the music. There are supposedly quarter tones towards the end of the first movement; I caught the passage (it was written in the program) but not sure I could distinguish a quarter tone from a half tone. Bartok had written an earlier violin concerto but never published it. So there is debate how tonight's concerto should be numbered; again, great fodder for an annotator.
As with the other two pieces, I am not familiar with the third Brahms Symphony. The movements are Allegro con brio; Andante; Poco allegretto; and Allegro - Un poco sostenuto. It is relatively short, and sounded very much like Beethoven. The Program Notes contain enthusiastic words penned by Clara Schumann. I wish I can find the same excitement.
All in all, tonight's was a program that looks interesting on the surface but falls flat in the actual execution. See the New York Times review. They are surprised that the audience wasn't as enthusiastic either.
Program
Symphony No. 34 in C major, K. 338 (1780) by Mozart (1756-91).
Violin Concerto No. 2 BB117 (1937-38) by Bartok (1881-1945).
Symphony No. 3 in F major, Op. 90 (1882-83) by Brahms (1833-97).
We exchanged another concert for this one due to scheduling conflict, and then realized (i) we would be coming back to NYC after yesterday's concert by the National Chorale, and (ii) Kavakos would be playing another relatively modern piece. Anyhow, here we are.
People (well, the New York Times anyway) keep saying how great a programmer Robertson is. Tonight's concert comprised of a piece each from the 18th, 19th and 20th century, so at least we get to listen to music from vastly different periods.
Robertson conducted the Mozart Symphony with great gusto; a bit much for my taste. And I kept asking, how could he possibly make it more exciting for the Bartok and Beethoven pieces. Turns out he couldn't, which isn't necessarily an indictment on how the latter pieces were performed. In any case, I am not familiar with this particular symphony, and it was quite enjoyable. It came in the standard three movements of Allegro vivace; Andante di molto (piu tosto Allegretto); and Finale - Allegro vivace. There is a remark in the Program Notes about how interesting the tempo marking for the second movement was, which I am sure only an annotator would find interesting.
A couple of observations. A reduced orchestra was used for this symphony, and all the first violin players were women. Mozart was known for his love of the viola and supposedly wrote nice double parts for the instrument (in the slow movement). We were up front, on the right side of the audience, and had a good view of the viola section. Still I had to strain to hear the part(s).
I last heard Kavakos play (in 2005) the Violin Concerto by Henri Dutilleux, and had some choice words for the music and the performance. Today's performance was better, or I should say not as bad. I usually enjoy Bartok and violin music. However, this concerto seemed to wander all over the place, I couldn't figure out what Bartok was trying to say, except to demonstrate the ability of the violinist. We were seated at the front, and had a good view of the performer. The sound of his Stradivarius was great, especially in the higher registers (surprisingly weak on the low notes), and Kavakos' technique is impeccable. Unfortunately, when the performance ended I could say only "Oh, it's over." A couple of additional remarks: this time he played the piece from memory, which is quite remarkable; and the pounding the violin took was simply brutal, it had to be retuned after the first movement.
The concerto's three movements are: Allegro non troppo, Andante tranquillo, and Allegro molto, although I am not sure why Bartok bothered with the markings. Also, notice there is no key to the music. There are supposedly quarter tones towards the end of the first movement; I caught the passage (it was written in the program) but not sure I could distinguish a quarter tone from a half tone. Bartok had written an earlier violin concerto but never published it. So there is debate how tonight's concerto should be numbered; again, great fodder for an annotator.
As with the other two pieces, I am not familiar with the third Brahms Symphony. The movements are Allegro con brio; Andante; Poco allegretto; and Allegro - Un poco sostenuto. It is relatively short, and sounded very much like Beethoven. The Program Notes contain enthusiastic words penned by Clara Schumann. I wish I can find the same excitement.
All in all, tonight's was a program that looks interesting on the surface but falls flat in the actual execution. See the New York Times review. They are surprised that the audience wasn't as enthusiastic either.
The National Chorale - Martin Josman, Music Director. October 24, 2008.
Avery Fisher Hall at Lincoln Center, Third Tier Left (Seat BB108, $56).
Program
Micele Capalbo, Soprano; Janara Kellerman, Alto; Daniel Weeks, Tenor; Grant Youngblood, Bass
Schicksalslied (1871) by Johannes Brahms.
Singet dem Herrn (1746) by Johann Sebastian Bach.
Symphony No. 9 in D minor, Op. 125 (1824) by Ludwig van Beethoven.
We bought a 3-concert series to the National Chorale performances at the suggestion of our friend Chung Shu. Tonight's was the first. Joining Anne & me were Chung Shu, Shirley, and Pastor Al. Before the concert we spent a few hours at MoMA (with the special van Gogh exhibit)and had dinner at MEE. Anne didn't go to MoMA but joined us for dinner.
We have noticed the same National Chorale poster outside Avery Fisher Hall year after year, but never got around to going to any of the concerts. In addition to tonight's, we will be going to the Messiah and Carmina Burana concerts later in the season.
Overall this was a disappointment. It was more form than substance, starting with the colorful dresses worn by the women members of the chorale. And the adjustments they had to make in where they stand was another example of show over substance. The orchestra was small (especially for the Symphony), so was the chorale at about 50 members. Perhaps that's because of budget constraints? It begs the question of why do we need this chorale when other organizations (e.g., NY Philharmonic and Choral Artists) and capable of putting out perfectly adequate performances.
Tonight was the "Opening Gala" and, alas, the concert hall was only about half full. The director looks quite a bit older than the picture in the posters would indicate, and could have put a little more energy in the conducting.
Let's hope future performances are better. I am a bit leary of the Messiah one as it is so familiar.
Program
Micele Capalbo, Soprano; Janara Kellerman, Alto; Daniel Weeks, Tenor; Grant Youngblood, Bass
Schicksalslied (1871) by Johannes Brahms.
Singet dem Herrn (1746) by Johann Sebastian Bach.
Symphony No. 9 in D minor, Op. 125 (1824) by Ludwig van Beethoven.
We bought a 3-concert series to the National Chorale performances at the suggestion of our friend Chung Shu. Tonight's was the first. Joining Anne & me were Chung Shu, Shirley, and Pastor Al. Before the concert we spent a few hours at MoMA (with the special van Gogh exhibit)and had dinner at MEE. Anne didn't go to MoMA but joined us for dinner.
We have noticed the same National Chorale poster outside Avery Fisher Hall year after year, but never got around to going to any of the concerts. In addition to tonight's, we will be going to the Messiah and Carmina Burana concerts later in the season.
Overall this was a disappointment. It was more form than substance, starting with the colorful dresses worn by the women members of the chorale. And the adjustments they had to make in where they stand was another example of show over substance. The orchestra was small (especially for the Symphony), so was the chorale at about 50 members. Perhaps that's because of budget constraints? It begs the question of why do we need this chorale when other organizations (e.g., NY Philharmonic and Choral Artists) and capable of putting out perfectly adequate performances.
Tonight was the "Opening Gala" and, alas, the concert hall was only about half full. The director looks quite a bit older than the picture in the posters would indicate, and could have put a little more energy in the conducting.
Let's hope future performances are better. I am a bit leary of the Messiah one as it is so familiar.
Thursday, September 25, 2008
New York Philharmonic – Lorin Maazel, conductor; Yefim Bronfman, piano. September 20, 2008.
Avery Fisher Hall at Lincoln Center, First Tier Center (Seat DD12, $54).
Program
Rhapsodies for Orchestra (2008) by Steven Stucky (b. 1949).
Piano Concerto No. 3 in D minor, Op. 30 (1909) by Rachmaninoff (1873-1943).
Suite from Ma Mere I'Oye (Mother Goose; 1980-1910; 1911) by Ravel (1875-1937).
Suite from The Miraculous Mandarin, Pantomime in One Act, Op. 19 (1917-19) by Bartok (1881-1945).
This was the first New York Philharmonic concert of the season for us. Our friends Chung-shu and Shirley also had tickets for this concert; and they bought additional tickets for Pastor Al and Miss Ruth; so there were 6 of us. Too bad we had to go up in separate cars as no one had a car that could take six. We had dinner at China Fun before going to the concert.
We saw Stucky in a “conversation” with Leonard Slatkin on stage last season. He got his doctorate from Cornell, where I had a couple of years of music education. He has done far better than me: he is a Pulitzer-prize winner and a chaired professor at the school. Among his composition teachers was Karel Husa, who conducted the Cornell Symphony while I was a violinist in the orchestra. Alas, that didn't translate to my enjoying the piece. The word “rhapsodies” gives people the impression of joy, rapture, and excitement. If one insists, one can get that in the music. However, I felt the both the dynamic and tonal range could have been broader. I could be charitable and attribute it to the acoustics at my seat ... The good news is that the piece was 10 minutes long rather than the advertised 12 minutes.
The was the U.S. premiere for the piece. It was played earlier the month at the BBC proms. So happens we heard over the radio the program on the last evening while driving around Michigan.
We heard Bronfman before, and enjoyed his performance. Somehow things seemed a bit off tonight. Make no mistake, the music is very difficult (program notes called it “Mount Everest of piano concertos”), and Bronfman's playing was brilliant at times. But musically the piece sounded disjoint, and muffled at times. The concerto is very melodious, and is enjoyable even though the performance wasn't as good as it could be. Bronfman is on the heavy side, but he still managed to lift himself from the seat at multiple locations. The audience gave him a tremendous ovation afterwards. For the record, the movements are (i) Allegro ma non tanto, (ii) Intermezzo. Allegro, and (iii) Finale. Alla breve.
We last saw the concerto performed in 2005 by Simon Trpceski, with Gianandra Noseda conducting the New York Philharmonic. Looking back at my notes, I wasn't completely satisfied either.
The Ravel Suite was written originally for the piano. It was dedicated to the children of Ravel's good friend; the premiere was played by two other youngsters. Ravel later orchestrated the piece. The Suite consists of a series of movements (played without noticeable pauses) which are (i) Pavane of the Sleeping Beauty, (ii) Tom Thumb, (iii) Laideronnette, Empress of the Pagodas, (iv) Conversations of Beauty and the Beast, and (v) Apotheosis, The Enchanted Garden. Unfortunately, the notes are more interesting than the music itself!
I remember hearing The Miraculous Mandarin by Bartok before. Not so much the music itself, but the story behind it. This is before my "blogging" days, so I have no record of the event to counter Anne's insistence that we had never seen it. [Later note: I did save a copy of the concert program on 10/2/2004.] The story, about a visit to a prostitutes' den by a wealthy Chinese man, is grotesque and vulgar. If you don't know the story, the music is quite okay. (Generally I enjoy Bartok's music.) With the story in mind, though, it is a different situation. Perhaps that's the whole point?
The program notes talks about three post-WWI pieces that still have shock value today, The Miraculous Mandarin being one of them. Stravinsky's Le Sacre du printemps is one that I am very familiar with. However, I had not heard of the sado-masochistic Chout by Prokofiev.
The New York Times has an interesting (not necessarily insightful) review of an earlier performance. The program was good enough for the reviewer that he thinks it should be used for the season opener. That evening two pieces were played as encores. I am quite sure they didn't do it on Saturday as we left the concert hall quite late. In any case, the concert was a bit longer than usual, ending at 10:15 pm.
Program
Rhapsodies for Orchestra (2008) by Steven Stucky (b. 1949).
Piano Concerto No. 3 in D minor, Op. 30 (1909) by Rachmaninoff (1873-1943).
Suite from Ma Mere I'Oye (Mother Goose; 1980-1910; 1911) by Ravel (1875-1937).
Suite from The Miraculous Mandarin, Pantomime in One Act, Op. 19 (1917-19) by Bartok (1881-1945).
This was the first New York Philharmonic concert of the season for us. Our friends Chung-shu and Shirley also had tickets for this concert; and they bought additional tickets for Pastor Al and Miss Ruth; so there were 6 of us. Too bad we had to go up in separate cars as no one had a car that could take six. We had dinner at China Fun before going to the concert.
We saw Stucky in a “conversation” with Leonard Slatkin on stage last season. He got his doctorate from Cornell, where I had a couple of years of music education. He has done far better than me: he is a Pulitzer-prize winner and a chaired professor at the school. Among his composition teachers was Karel Husa, who conducted the Cornell Symphony while I was a violinist in the orchestra. Alas, that didn't translate to my enjoying the piece. The word “rhapsodies” gives people the impression of joy, rapture, and excitement. If one insists, one can get that in the music. However, I felt the both the dynamic and tonal range could have been broader. I could be charitable and attribute it to the acoustics at my seat ... The good news is that the piece was 10 minutes long rather than the advertised 12 minutes.
The was the U.S. premiere for the piece. It was played earlier the month at the BBC proms. So happens we heard over the radio the program on the last evening while driving around Michigan.
We heard Bronfman before, and enjoyed his performance. Somehow things seemed a bit off tonight. Make no mistake, the music is very difficult (program notes called it “Mount Everest of piano concertos”), and Bronfman's playing was brilliant at times. But musically the piece sounded disjoint, and muffled at times. The concerto is very melodious, and is enjoyable even though the performance wasn't as good as it could be. Bronfman is on the heavy side, but he still managed to lift himself from the seat at multiple locations. The audience gave him a tremendous ovation afterwards. For the record, the movements are (i) Allegro ma non tanto, (ii) Intermezzo. Allegro, and (iii) Finale. Alla breve.
We last saw the concerto performed in 2005 by Simon Trpceski, with Gianandra Noseda conducting the New York Philharmonic. Looking back at my notes, I wasn't completely satisfied either.
The Ravel Suite was written originally for the piano. It was dedicated to the children of Ravel's good friend; the premiere was played by two other youngsters. Ravel later orchestrated the piece. The Suite consists of a series of movements (played without noticeable pauses) which are (i) Pavane of the Sleeping Beauty, (ii) Tom Thumb, (iii) Laideronnette, Empress of the Pagodas, (iv) Conversations of Beauty and the Beast, and (v) Apotheosis, The Enchanted Garden. Unfortunately, the notes are more interesting than the music itself!
I remember hearing The Miraculous Mandarin by Bartok before. Not so much the music itself, but the story behind it. This is before my "blogging" days, so I have no record of the event to counter Anne's insistence that we had never seen it. [Later note: I did save a copy of the concert program on 10/2/2004.] The story, about a visit to a prostitutes' den by a wealthy Chinese man, is grotesque and vulgar. If you don't know the story, the music is quite okay. (Generally I enjoy Bartok's music.) With the story in mind, though, it is a different situation. Perhaps that's the whole point?
The program notes talks about three post-WWI pieces that still have shock value today, The Miraculous Mandarin being one of them. Stravinsky's Le Sacre du printemps is one that I am very familiar with. However, I had not heard of the sado-masochistic Chout by Prokofiev.
The New York Times has an interesting (not necessarily insightful) review of an earlier performance. The program was good enough for the reviewer that he thinks it should be used for the season opener. That evening two pieces were played as encores. I am quite sure they didn't do it on Saturday as we left the concert hall quite late. In any case, the concert was a bit longer than usual, ending at 10:15 pm.
Sunday, August 17, 2008
Opera Australia – Verdi's Otello, August 16, 2008.
Opera Theatre, Sydney Opera House – Seat Circle L25 (A$135).
Simon Hewett – conductor; Dennis O'Neill – Otello, Cheryl Barker – Desdemona, Jonaathan Summers – Iago, Kanen Breen – Cassio, Jaqueline Dark – Emilia, Andrew Brunsdon – Roderigo.
Story. See previous blog.
I had the choice of picking either Otello or Lucia di Lammermoor to see today. I picked Otello because it was a matinee and Ruth didn't want to stay up late for the evening show. I like the performance I saw at the Met also, so wouldn't mind seeing it again. Also we were late for that performance and missed the first act. This knowing full well the opera is not quite singable and the drama is the element that carries the performance along. In addition to Ruth and Steven, Ling and Wally also saw the opera with me.
I was disappointed at tonight's performance. It wasn't so much it was a bad performance, but rather it didn't succeed at any of the elements that make a performance great.
First, the whole performance felt disjointed. The “dialog”, the music, the acting, they all seemed to move from element to element without much continuity. I felt this way from five minutes into the show, and the feeling remained till the end. My experience at the Met was a compelling story propelled along by a great sense of doom and urgency.
The staging for Act I was okay. They used many steps as both the deck of a ship and the square where the fight between Cassio and Roderigo took place. It got monotonous when they used it for Act II, Act III, and then Act IV! More ridiculous than minimalist. Staging is part of what makes an opera enjoyable, but evidently the stage manager wasn't aware of that. People were dressed in non-period specific costumes. The brown uniforms worn by the soldiers remind me of Nazis, which probably isn't the intention of the designer. It's a matter of debate whether one should “modernize” these works, and I am a traditionalist when it comes to this matter.
Otello traditionally is painted with a black face to show his Moorish heritage. This wasn't done at today's performance. Probably political correctness carried to an extreme. I am Chinese, and I wasn't at all offended at Domingo being portrayed (and made up) as Chinese in the First Emperor. I am sure there are few people as sensitive as the Chinese ...
I do not know the singers, so didn't know what to expect. Desdemona seemed only capable of reaching the higher notes by belting them out. Even though I “enjoyed” the Willow Song and Ave Maria, I wish she had whispered them rather than shouted them (well, she wasn't that bad). Nonetheless, perhaps to have the same expectations of Cheryl Barker as Renee Fleming is unfair – to Fleming. Otello's voice was quite weak, and he was a bit on the stocky side. Don Jose of Carmen was another Opera Australia person that was a bit on the heavy side – do we have a pattern here? Anyway, Otello seemed to manage the stairs without a lot of difficulty, good for him.
The orchestra played reasonably well, but there wasn't much drama to the music, a real pity for “unsingable” operas.
I am quite amazed at how different the levels of performance is between a production by the Met and one by Opera Australia. Something that seems to come out with ease from the Met appears to be very difficult to piece together by a lesser company, even though the story is by Shakespeare and the music is by Verdi, both acknowledged masters in their genres.
I bought a program for AUD 15 since there were 5 of us, against my "principle" and better judgment. There was very little additional information in it. It does contain one article contrasting how Verdi and Shakespeare treated the different characters, worthy of a college paper. As I suspected, most of the pages were advertisements.
The Sydney Morning Herald gave the opera a raving review. (I hate to sound snobbish) Perhaps the reviewer, Peter McCallum, should go out more often.
Benefit Concert for China Earthquake Victims – Yi Heng Yang, piano; Gloria Vasconcellos - harp; Max Zeugner – double bass, August 3, 2008.
Lincroft Bible Church Sanctuary, Lincroft, NJ.
Program
L'Egyptienne by Jean Phillipe-Rameau; Gloria Vasconcellos, harp.
Toccata by Nicolas-Charles Bochsa; Vasconcellos.
Fantasy pieces, Op. 73 by Robert Schumann; Max Zeugner, double bass & Yi-heng Yang, piano.
(Zart und mit ausdruck - Lebhaft, leicht - Rasch und mit feuer)
Scherzo no. 4, Op. 54 by Frederic Chopin; Yang.
Etude in C-sharp minor, Op. 10, no. 4 by Frederic Chopin, arranged for double bass by F. Sevitsky; Zeugner & Yang.
Tango by Jean Michel Damase; Vasconcellos.
Une Chatelaine en sa tour by Gabriel Faure; Vasconcellos.
Argpeggione Sonata, D. 821 by Franz Schubert; Zeugner & Yang.
(Adagio - Allegretto)
Lullaby by He Lau-Ting; Zeugner, Vasconcellos & Yang.
In May of this year, a huge earthquake (close to 8 on the Richter scale)) occurred in Sichuan Province, causing many deaths and much property damage. The three musicians today performed a concert at which they collected good will offering for disaster relief.
I have never been to a concert where these three instruments were featured together as solo instruments. Actually I have never heard the double bass as a solo instrument. The program was quite long (may be totaling 1 hour 15 minutes or so), most of the pieces would be what I call occasional, light music (doesn't mean easy to play) composed by the likes of Chopin and Schubert.
About 100 people attended, by my estimate. The auditorium can pack in maybe 400 people, so it felt a little too cavernous. Nonetheless, the performance was quite enjoyable. There was some discussion about the acoustics. Instead of holding the concert at MCCC (which sponsored the concert), LBC was chosen because it should work better for the harp. However, the relative loudness of the instruments would still work differently at different locations.
Yi Heng and Max came to our boat for a ride on the Navesink river afterwards, and we talked some more about the concert. Most (if not all) of solo music for the double bass is transcribed from music written for other instruments. The “double” in “double bass” denotes the propensity for composers (especially before the romantic period) to simply write a part that is an octave lower than the cello: it is very obvious if you watch an orchestra play. I believe the New York Philharmonic simply call them the bass section.
Max played the double bass standing up, and had to reach down to get the high registers. This can't be easy on the back. Most bassists play the instrument sitting on a high stool, less stress on the body, but more limiting in range of motion. It actually sounded very like a cello, which may be the ultimate praise (or insult) to a bass player. And they do carry them around from performance to performance. No small cars for these musicians, oversize luggage for airplanes.
The last piece by a Chinese composer was written for the piano and another instrument (I forget which) which they transcribed for the bass, and then asked the harpist to add something to it so the three of them can play together.
Wednesday, July 30, 2008
The Vienna Chamber Orchestra – Mark Laycock, conductor; David Meier, piano. July 24, 2008.
Richardson Auditorium in Alexander Hall, Princeton University. Row 1, Balcony Center.
Program
Piano Concerto No. 4 in G major, Op. 58 by Beethoven (1770-1827).
Symphony No. 3 in E-flat major, Op. 55 “Eroica” by Beethoven.
Our friends David and Vivian told us about this free concert. They were nice enough to get to Princeton early to pick up tickets for us. Good thing they did: there was a long line waiting for returns when we got there at 7:30 pm or so.
The Vienna Chamber Orchestra consists of about 40 musicians (I counted 8 first violins, 6 second, 5 violas, 4 cellos, 3 double basses, oboe, clarinet, 2 bassoons, 2 flutes, 3 horns, 2 trumpets, and a timpani: working from memory, so not completely sure). It is on the small side to play a grand symphony such as the Eroica. The auditorium seats perhaps 1000 people but is surprising intimate, that made the small orchestra less of an issue. They also have done some improvements (like bathrooms on the first floor) since we last visited about 3 years ago. The conductor was “local” but now lives in Berlin.
David Meier is a relatively young man (born 1977). I found his playing to be adequate but not inspiring. He is in some fierce competition though: I heard recently Andre Watts playing concerto No. 1 and Emmanuel Ax playing No. 5 with the New York Philharmonic. It will take Meier a while to catch up with these masters' technique and musicality. Many runs were sloppy, and he used too much pedal for my taste.
The symphony performance was also a bit sloppy. Perhaps we were too close to the orchestra, but oftentimes I would hear the concertmaster or the principals play the notes much more loudly than the rest of the sections, which is a bit disconcerting (no pun intended). Laycock did conduct from memory though. For some reason I am very familiar with the first three movements, but not with the fourth.
One word about the programming notes. They are published in memory of the author, so I don't want to say too much about them. Nonetheless, it reminds me of my college days studying music (actually the Beethoven symphony was one piece we studied) and analyzing the structure of the piece in about the same way. Looking back, it probably was a necessary part of a formal education, but the annotation didn't provide a lot of insight beyond an academic analysis.
The biographical notes of the conductor contains multiple mentions of the word “maestro”. I don't mean to belittle his accomplishments, but the biography certainly reminds me of this Seinfeld episode where the conductor says something like “I know for a fact his (Leonard Bernstein) friends called him maestro”.
The orchestra played as the encore piece Strauss's Blue Danube (what else would one expect?) I didn't realize the piece was that long. Given the late start (probably to find seats for people waiting), we didn't get out until after 10:30 pm.
Sunday, June 08, 2008
New York Philharmonic – Lorin Maazel, conductor. June 7, 2008.
Avery Fisher Hall at Lincoln Center – First Tier Center (Seat BB16, $59).
Program
Symphony No. 9 (1908-1910) by Mahler (1860-1911).
I have always enjoyed Maazel conducting the Mahler symphonies, so I was looking forward to tonight's concert. Mahler was rather superstitious about the 9th symphony being many composers' last (Beethoven, Schubert and Dvorak). Indeed it was completed a year before he died of a heart bacterial infection and Mahler never got to listen to it performed. He left behind some sketches for a tenth symphony, though. It is very long at an advertised 79 minutes; in reality it was even longer at close to 90 minutes altogether.
It is difficult to characterize this symphony. Despite its length, it is not as complex as some of Mahler's other symphonies. Orchestration is simple by modern standards, there are no unusual instruments, although he did employ the tam-tam, snare drum, chimes, and two sets of timpani. The second timpani player also doubled as a base drum player.
Interestingly, Mahler scored one harp for the orchestra but tonight's performance followed Bruno Walter's score which divided the the part between two harps. The division was clearly uneven as the second harp doesn't have much to do. Anyway, some rather haunting tones are generated by the harps during the first and fourth movements.
The first movement (Andante comodo) is the longest at about 35 minutes. I like to describe Mahler's symphonies as wandering from scene to scene, and the 9th is like that also. The movement's tempo is slow, which is not common for a first movement. The second and third movements are each about 15 minutes. The second (In the tempo of a comfortable landler, somewhat clumsy and very coarse, what a tempo marking) is rather light-hearted, and I didn't hear much coarseness. The third movement (Rondo: Burleske (Allegro assai, very insolent)) is on the mischievous and giddy side, and Maazel's conducting reflected the mood with various motions of his arms and twist of his body. The last movement (Adagio (Very slow, and even holding back)) reminds me of one of Apostle Paul's epistles. He was only half-done when he said “finally”. Similar, the music went on for another 5 to 10 minutes after I thought it had come to an end. The ending was a bit much, with the same motif repeated many times.
The audience gave Maazel a hearty applause after the performance. The gentleman next to me clearly enjoyed the performance. I think there were four curtain calls. This is our last New York Philharmonic concert for the season, and I believe the orchestra has another one to go (“Tosca in Concert”). Next season will be Maazel's last with the New York Philharmonic, perhaps there is a nostalgic element to the reaction? In any case, I am impressed with his level of energy.
While I enjoyed this concert, and Maazel is dependable when it comes to Mahler, I thought it could have been better. This may be the music, or Maazel's conducting; I don't know the music well enough to tell.
The New York Times review uncharacteristically is all praise for Maazel's performance.
Saturday, June 07, 2008
New York Philharmonic – David Robertson, conductor; Emanuel Ax, piano. May 31, 2008.
Avery Fisher Hall at Lincoln Center – Orchestra 1 (Seat L8, $59).
Program
Three Etudes for Piano (1915; orch. 1992) by Debussy (1862-1918)/M. Jarrell (b. 1958)
Rendering for Orchestra (1988-90) by Schubert-Berio (1797-1828; 1925-2003)
Piano Concerto No. 5 in E-flat major, Op. 73, Emperor (1809) by Beethoven (1770-1827)
The current issue of Playbill talks about David Robertson skills as a programmer. The program he chose for tonight is certainly unusual, which doesn't necessarily means good. The first two pieces were just baffling. One would think the orchestra has better music to do.
Debussy's Three Etudes for Piano were described as masterpieces by the program annotator. They are (i) for repeated notes, (ii) for opposing sonorities, and (iii) for chords. The transcription into orchestra music by Jarrell might have been great accomplishments for a composer, but still leaves one with the question of “why?”
Robertson illustrated what Berio did to compose Rendering. He would have the piano play out a simple line and then the orchestra play Berio's rendition. Which sounded reasonable enough. The program lists the three movements (Allegro, Andante, and Allegro) which would lead one to expect a Schubert-like symphony. But when the entire work is played, one noticed very little Schubert in the music; the piece sounded very contemporary, which I should have expected in hindsight. Alas, this piece is also about three times as long as the Debussy Etudes. This is probably a symphony only a musicologist would love.
Anne was relaying an interview WQXR had with Emmanuel Ax, who describes himself as lazy and needs to force himself to get the several hours of practice in every morning. We heard Ax several years ago at Tanglewood and enjoyed the performance despite all the distractions associated with an open concert hall (The Koussevitzky Shed).
How honest! Beethoven's concerts are difficult for amateurs technically, but are usually not a problem with professionals, much less someone of Ax's stature and reputation. But he managed to put in a technically flawed performance, botching many notes, some of the runs just sounded muddy. It is a tribute to him as a musician that the overall performance was quite enjoyable. Actually the audience clamored for more and Ax played (I believe) a Chopin piece as an encore. I have to contrast Ax with Andre Watts whom we heard recently. Admittedly Beethoven No. 1 is much easier than No. 5, but still Watts managed to make the music come across clearly, with a well-defined structure.
Overall though, I still find the concert quite enjoyable. That may yet prove the genius of Robertson's programming, or it may just be my feeling good after two concerts today.
See the New York Times review. It contains some additional interesting facts about the Schubert piece. The reviewer is obviously a fan of Robertson's.
American Ballet Theater – Tchaikovsky's Swan Lake, May 31, 2008.
Metropolitan Opera House at Lincoln Center – Orchestra BB118 ($79).
Conductor – David LaMarche; Odette-Odile – Veronika Part, Prince Siegfried – David Hallberg, von Rothbart – Vitali Krauchenka and Marcelo Gomes.
Story. Prince Siegfried is given a crossbow on his birthday. He retreats to the lake and sees the swan Odette who is under von Rothbart's spell. She is destined to turn back into a swan every night unless she finds true love. Evening comes, von Rothbart returns and Odette disappears. That evening, the Queen throws a party for Siegfried, after several young ladies are introduced, von Rothbart shows up with Odile. Siegfried falls in love with Odile, and Odette weeping is noticed by Siegfried who races to the lake to catch up with her. Odette says she must kill herself or she will forever remain a swan, and the two lovers do so by throwing themselves into the lake. They are seen united in life after death.
I have to say this is a much more enjoyable ballet than Le Corsaire. Of course, Swan Lake is a well-know ballet, and the music is often played on a stand-alone basis. Many of the tunes are well known and lovely; some violin solos are just exquisite pieces. I was a bit surprised that the story doesn't hang together as well as I thought it would, though. And how does a swan kill itself? In this story she jumps into a lake. Siegfried's jump is very impressive though, I hope whatever is catching him off stage is very sturdy.
Being ballet, there are still puzzling elements to the work. I can understand why von Rothbart has to be played by two different artists, the transition from the devil to the human may just be too quick to pull off. Odette and Odile are played by the same person. That confuses me. Other than to show off the skills of the ballerina, there is no conceivable reason why this is so. They are not related (other than both names begin with “O”), one is a person turned into a swan, the other is a devil's daughter who can take on human form. One wears white, the other wears black. And each would be an important role by itself.
There are some nice numbers, such as the pas de deux of Odette and the prince. And Odile gets to do the most impressive dance where I counted 29 spins. The many other swans (are they also under the spell?) are nice. Again ABT disappoints somewhat with imprecision.
The orchestra had a somewhat limited dynamic range. The violin solos were botched somewhat, the soloist seemed to have problems with intonation. And one of the dancers fell as she was about to exit the stage – must have hurt.
Overall though, the nice music, graceful movements, athletic feats, beautiful costumes, and some staging effects add up to a very enjoyable performance.
The New York Times review of this run is of a different dancer, who did 32 of these “foutte turns”. Perhaps I did Ms. Part injustice by miscounting?
Thursday, June 05, 2008
American Ballet Theater – Le Corsaire, May 24, 2008.
Metropolitan Opera House at Lincoln Center. Orchestra AA103 ($81).
Conductor – Ormsky Wilkins; Conrad – Marcelo Gomes, Birbanto – Sascha Radetsky, Ali – Ethan Stiefel, Lankendem – Jose Manuel Carreno, Medora – Paloma Herrera, Gulnare – Maria Riccetto, Seyd – Victor Barbee.
Story: Slave girls are being sold by Lankendem at a noisy bazaar in Turkey. Pirate Conrad arrives and falls in love with Medora. The pasha Seyd arrives and buys Gulnare and Medora. Conrad instructs his slave Ali to steal Medora and the pirates kidnaps Lankendem. Conrad gets into an argument with his friend Birbanto about freeing the slave girls; Birbanto wants to start a revolt but is thwarted, he then gives a poisoned flower to Conrad via Medora to drug him into a sleep. Lankendem manages to steal Medora back and escapes. When Conrad wakes up Birbanto feigns ignorance. The pasha declares Medora will be his wife, falls asleep, and dreams of lovely women in a beautiful garden. Conrad, Birbanto, and other pirates show up in disguise and chase away the pasha and his guards. Medora exposes Birbanto for what he is and Conrad kills him. They all flee to the ship which is then capsized by a storm. The ballet ends with Conrad and Medora clinging to a rock and offering thanks for their miraculous survival.
Ballet remains a strange art form to me. To illustrate my point, some production credits (from Playbill). Staging by Anna Marie Holmes after Marius Petipa and Konstantin Sergeyev. Music by Adolphe Adam, Cesare Pugni, Leo Delibes, Riccardo Drigo and Prince Oldenrourg. Music reorchestrated by Kevin Galie. Libretto by Jules Henri de Saint-Goerges and Joseph Mazilier in a version by Anna Marie Holmes. Based on The Corsair (1814) by Lord Byron.
So, who wrote the music? Did the four composers get together to write the piece? Or did someone string the pieces together – and who is that someone? What is libretto in ballet? There were no words said during the entire show, except a couple of grunts. While the story hangs together well enough, it is mainly a series of excuses for the dancers to do their thing. For example, the three slave girls got to dance individually, in pairs, and as a trio (well, I may be exaggerating a bit).
I have no idea who is who in ballet, but the slave (only bare-chested fellow) drew a hearty applause from the audience when he first appeared, and Anne claims he is quite well-known. He didn't dance too many numbers, perhaps they were all technically demanding? I don't know. Anne was watching this PBS show about Nureyev, and he supposedly danced this role to great acclaim also. If precision is the hallmark of a great ballet troupe, then ABT isn't quite there. If it were an orchestra, there would be utter chaos. Quite a few young girls danced in this production, and many of them were able to stand on their toes, which I found quite impressive. The pasha provided some comic relief, even though he only had to walk.
In any event, the music was nice, the dance movements pleasing to the eye, and length of the program not too long, so it was an afternoon well spent.
One other thing, the audience. Naturally many children (I assume they are taking ballet lessons) attended the ballet, and the audience was therefore noisier. What I didn't expect was the readiness of people to take empty seats. It's quite okay with me, but we saw instances where people holding those seats hadn't left and everyone had to move back.
The New York Times review is quite interesting. I am glad I am correct in saying the ballet is mainly constructed so the dancers can show off their skills.
Monday, May 26, 2008
Metropolitan Opera – Tan Dun's The First Emperor, May 17, 2008.
Metropolitan Opera at Lincoln Center – Orchestra, Seat AA28 ($150).
Conductor – Tan Dun; Libretto – Ha Jin and Tan Dun; Emperor Qin – Placido Domingo, General Wang – Hao Jiang Tian, Princess Yueyang – Sarah Coburn, Gao Jianli – Paul Groves.
Story. Emperor Qin iss tired of the traditional music and wants Gao Jianli, his children friend, to write a new anthem for him. Qin conquers the Yan state and has Gao brought in as a prisoner. Gao refuses to write the anthem and goes on a hunger strike. Qin's daughter, Princesss Yueyang, goes about convincing Gao to end his hunger strike by feeding him from her own month. After the two fall in love and makes love, Yueyang, who was paralyzed from a riding accident, miraculously regains use of her legs. Yueyang was promised to General Wang and the Princess commits suicide when the Emperor forces her to marry Wang. As Qin gets ready to ascend to the throne, Yueyang's ghost appears to tell Qin that she couldn't sacrifice her love for her country. This is followed by the ghost of Wang, who was killed by Gao. Finally Gao shows up, commits suicide by biting off his own tongue. Qin then asks the anthem to be sung, and is shocked to discover it is the song of the slaves being forced to build the great wall.
I was looking forward to seeing this opera after listening to Tan Dun's piano concerto played by Lang Lang. While “modern,” the concerto was still well-structured enough for me to make sense of it, and it also showcased Lang Lang's ability, which was what Tan set out to do. I was somewhat disappointed by the opera, although there were many impressive aspects to it.
Tan Dun talks about the three techniques he used to bring out the three colors of Qin culture: tri-tone as black, continuance of the fourth as white, and highest to lowest note as red. While somewhat interesting, the motifs were not particularly appealing, and soon became monotonous. Unfortunately, Tan seemed to have fallen in love with this discovery and saturated the opera with them.
Other than the Peking-opera style introduction by the Yin-yang Master, which was in Chinese, the opera was sung in English. I was glad they had subtitles as I found the sung dialog difficult to follow. Placido Domingo sang the role of Qin. One of the famous “three tenors” with Pavoratti and Carreras, Domingo has an active schedule as a director, conductor, and performer. While he was good, I always find his voice to be a bit weak. I am glad I had a chance to see him though: I had seen him conduct a few times before, this was the first time I saw him sing. A couple of Asian singers were in the operas (e.g., General Wang and the shaman).
The staging is mostly based on what I would describe as bleachers. Nonetheless, it was effective and pleasant. I find the colors to be well designed, and the costumes add a lot of glamor appropriate for a regal setting. The masks worn on the back by the Yin-yang masters, which make them transform from dark to light by turning around, are quite ingenious (I assume this technique is well-known in the trade.)
Although Qin was indeed the first Chinese emperor who unified the country by conquering many of the surrounding warring states, and started the Great Wall, he was generally considered a brutal and ruthless person. While the opera makes no excuses for his brutality, it does illustrate the more human aspects of him. I didn't know this story until I came across this opera, which is supposed to be based on an account by the well-known historian Sima Qian (c. 145-85 BCE).
When I was a child, I had seen movies where people committed suicide by biting off their tongues. I imagine the profuse bleeding would be the cause of death. In this opera Qin “helped” Gao by stabbing him with a sword afterwards. Somewhat like hari-kiri. Macabre, but makes sense if one thinks about it.
I am glad to have seen this opera, I'm not sure I'll want to see it again, though.
The New York Times reviewer thought some of the musical passages outlived their welcome, and that the opera could be shorter still (it was trimmed by about half an hour from its 2007 debut).
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