92nd Street Y, Theresa L. Laufmann Concert Hall, Orchestra (Seat H103, $5.)
Artists
Trio: Joseph Kalichstein, piano; Jaime Laredo, violin; Sharon Robinson, cello.
Pamela Frank, violin
Cynthia Phelps, viola
Liang Wang, oboe
Program
Three Romances for Violin and Piano, Op. 22 (1853) by Clara Schumann (1819-1896).
-- Andante molto
-- Allegretto: Mit zarten Vortrage
-- Leidenschaftlich schnell
Variations for Piano on a Theme of R. Schumann, Op. 9 (1854) by Brahms (1833-1897).
Romances for Oboe and Piano, Op. 94 (1849) by Robert Schumann (1810-1856).
-- Nicht schnell
-- Einfach, inning
-- Nicht schell
Quintet for Piano and Strings in E-flat major, Op. 44 (1842) by R. Schumann.
There is no misprint on the cost of this concert, $5. I first found out about this group when I was reading through the program at Toronto’s Royal Conservatory, this group is scheduled to perform there later this month. Within a day or so I got this email from Goldstar which offered tickets for a processing fee of $5, so I grabbed it. Since I was planning to buy tickets for the June 2 Leon Fleisher concert at the Y anyway, I thought I would go also. Because of her commitment to teach an ESL class at the Sayreville Library, Anne couldn’t go.
The auditorium is reasonably respectable, with a sign saying “occupancy by more than 922 people is dangerous” giving an indication of its capacity (there is also a balcony level). I was also surprised at how few people were at this concert. I would say the orchestra level was less than half full, but they managed to get a lot of students to come and they were lining up for the balcony seats.
The size of the audience, however, has no bearing on the quality of the concert. This is one of the more enjoyable concerts I have attended, and got better as the afternoon progressed.
The program is pretty much an all Schumann affair, with works by Robert and Clara Schumann. The Brahms piece was written after Robert’s early 1854 suicide attempt, and incorporates one of Clara Schuman’s theme in one of the variations. The program says Brahms wrote it as a tribute to his mentor, a token of Brahms’ affection for Clara, and the work was an early manifestation of Brahms’ fondness of the variation.
I had never heard anything by Clara Schumann before. The three violin romances did not break any new musical grounds for me (nor for the genre, I imagine), but they are really pleasant pieces. The program notes calls them “charming, if lightweight.” Indeed the pieces, totaling a little over 10 minutes, sounded warm, but tinged with sadness.
It is probably difficult not to try to count the number of variations when it is being performed. And it is not easy. In any case, I counted 20, but it could be fewer than that. According to the Program Notes, there are several quotes from Robert and Clara’s works. While there is familiarity, I can’t claim I caught them.
Liang Wang is the principal oboist at the New York Philharmonic. Here he performed three relatively simple romances by Schumann. The sound was beautiful, and the romances contain a trove of melodies, many of which sounded melancholic. The audience was very appreciative of the performance.
Cynthia Phelps is the principal violist of the New York Philharmonic, and Pamela Frank is a very well-known violinist (whom I had never seen in concert). I was especially surprised to see Frank playing second fiddle in the quintet. I have stated many times most string quartets sound like a violin piece with accompaniment by three other string instruments. Our ears find it easier to catch the higher pitch of the first violin; and indeed many compositions put the melody in that instrument. Not so with this one. The parts (including the piano) are well-balanced, with different instruments taking the lead at different times. Frank actually seemed to enjoy the role very much, beaming all the time, and looking at her fellow players a lot. Having said that, the viola still sounded weak. The cello also could sound a little louder.
I enjoy Schubert’s Trout Quintet a lot (turns out Frank is also the violinist in the CD I have) – who wouldn’t – and I have to rank this one up there. I am embarrassed to say this is the first time I ever heard it. For the record, the movements are: (i) Allegro brillante; (ii) In modo d’una marcia: Un poco largamente – Agitato; (iii) Scherzo: Molto vivace; and (iv) Allegro ma non troppo.
Sometimes enjoyable things in life is free, or almost free. I am glad I came to this concert, and would have gladly paid full price for the seat.
Saturday, April 09, 2011
Wednesday, April 06, 2011
Leon Fleisher, piano. April 3, 2011.
Koerner Hall at the Royal Conservatory of Music, Ontario, Canada, Second Balcony Right (Seat A10, C$10.)
Program
Toccata and Fugue for Piano Left Hand, Op. 56 (1950) by Jeno Takacs (1902-2005).
Liebeslieder Waltzes, Op. 52a (arr. Brahms) by Johannes Brahms (1833-1897).
Chaconne for the Left Hand from the Violin Partita No. 2 in D minor, BWV 1004 (arr. Brahms) by Johann Sebastian Bach (1685-1750).
Fanatasie in F minor, D. 940 (Op. posth. 103) by Franz Schubert (1797-1828).
Slavonic Dances by Antonin Dvorak (1841-1904).
- A-flat Major, Op. 46, No.3
- E minor, Op. 72, No. 2
- G minor, Op. 46, No. 8
We got into Toronto the day before and – as usual – only had a vague idea what we wanted to do. We stopped by the RCM at around 1:30 pm and decided to get tickets for the 3 pm concert. The box office had a sign outside saying rush tickets for $10, and we were told they would be on sale “in a couple of minutes.” Although we would have gladly paid $35 or so for a ticket, who would argue with a $10 deal? Sure enough, that is what we got, and the seats (on the side but facing forward) are okay.
It is only after I read up on the Program Notes that I found out we were going to have a new program (the one listed above.) Katherine Jacobson Fleisher, Leon’s wife, was to join him in the Brahms Waltzes and the Schubert and Dvorak pieces.
Leon first came out and explained he had surgery on his right thumb a few months ago, and while the surgery was a success, the healing process was taking longer than anticipated and thus not quite “performance-ready.” I found out later that actually his life as a performer has been a bitter-sweet one. He played with the New York Philharmonic at age 16 and was called “the pianistic find of the century” by the conductor. However, he developed a neurological disorder that lost him the use of his right hand when he was in his 30s. Only recently did a series of treatments (including Botox) made him well enough to play with both hands. I cannot imagine the devastation something like this would cause, but he certainly seems to have triumphed over it. One just wishes he has enough time to leave behind enough of a legacy for the public to enjoy.
I don’t know enough about piano playing to say much about how good the concert was. It was noteworthy though that Leon managed to produced a lot of great sound without having to attack the piano much, while Katherine (who appears much younger) needed to pound on it a lot. Both sounded great, though Anne said Katherine’s playing was too percussive. I also noticed there was not much use – if at all – of the pedal which added to the crispness of the sound. The Slavonic Dances are quite familiar, and were quite enjoyable. It should be noted that Leon played the right side of the Dances. I am not sure how well the Bach Chaconne worked; it didn't sound as good or natural compared to being played on a violin.
One note on the acoustics. In one word, excellent. There is a lot of wood in the auditorium, and what looked like felt/soundsoak from a distance is actually concrete. Of course, the hall being a bit on the small side helps.
He will be playing at the 92nd Street Y in June. I am going there on Thursday April 7 and will try to get tickets to that event. I would gladly pay the $40 or $57 (not sure which) for each ticket. That program is very close to the “might have been” for this concert. Let’s hope his thumb recovers enough for that to happen.
Program
Toccata and Fugue for Piano Left Hand, Op. 56 (1950) by Jeno Takacs (1902-2005).
Liebeslieder Waltzes, Op. 52a (arr. Brahms) by Johannes Brahms (1833-1897).
Chaconne for the Left Hand from the Violin Partita No. 2 in D minor, BWV 1004 (arr. Brahms) by Johann Sebastian Bach (1685-1750).
Fanatasie in F minor, D. 940 (Op. posth. 103) by Franz Schubert (1797-1828).
Slavonic Dances by Antonin Dvorak (1841-1904).
- A-flat Major, Op. 46, No.3
- E minor, Op. 72, No. 2
- G minor, Op. 46, No. 8
We got into Toronto the day before and – as usual – only had a vague idea what we wanted to do. We stopped by the RCM at around 1:30 pm and decided to get tickets for the 3 pm concert. The box office had a sign outside saying rush tickets for $10, and we were told they would be on sale “in a couple of minutes.” Although we would have gladly paid $35 or so for a ticket, who would argue with a $10 deal? Sure enough, that is what we got, and the seats (on the side but facing forward) are okay.
It is only after I read up on the Program Notes that I found out we were going to have a new program (the one listed above.) Katherine Jacobson Fleisher, Leon’s wife, was to join him in the Brahms Waltzes and the Schubert and Dvorak pieces.
Leon first came out and explained he had surgery on his right thumb a few months ago, and while the surgery was a success, the healing process was taking longer than anticipated and thus not quite “performance-ready.” I found out later that actually his life as a performer has been a bitter-sweet one. He played with the New York Philharmonic at age 16 and was called “the pianistic find of the century” by the conductor. However, he developed a neurological disorder that lost him the use of his right hand when he was in his 30s. Only recently did a series of treatments (including Botox) made him well enough to play with both hands. I cannot imagine the devastation something like this would cause, but he certainly seems to have triumphed over it. One just wishes he has enough time to leave behind enough of a legacy for the public to enjoy.
I don’t know enough about piano playing to say much about how good the concert was. It was noteworthy though that Leon managed to produced a lot of great sound without having to attack the piano much, while Katherine (who appears much younger) needed to pound on it a lot. Both sounded great, though Anne said Katherine’s playing was too percussive. I also noticed there was not much use – if at all – of the pedal which added to the crispness of the sound. The Slavonic Dances are quite familiar, and were quite enjoyable. It should be noted that Leon played the right side of the Dances. I am not sure how well the Bach Chaconne worked; it didn't sound as good or natural compared to being played on a violin.
One note on the acoustics. In one word, excellent. There is a lot of wood in the auditorium, and what looked like felt/soundsoak from a distance is actually concrete. Of course, the hall being a bit on the small side helps.
He will be playing at the 92nd Street Y in June. I am going there on Thursday April 7 and will try to get tickets to that event. I would gladly pay the $40 or $57 (not sure which) for each ticket. That program is very close to the “might have been” for this concert. Let’s hope his thumb recovers enough for that to happen.
Monday, April 04, 2011
National Symphony Orchestra – Ivan Fischer, conductor; Jozsef Lendvay, Jr, violin. April 1, 2011.
Concert Hall at The John F. Kennedy Center for the Performing Arts, Tier 1 (Seat C7, $65.)
Program
Overture to La gazza ladra (1817) by Rossini (1792-1868).
Violin Concerto No. 1 in D major, Op. 6 (1817-1818) by Paganini (1782-1840).
Symphony No. 3 (“Rhenish”) in E-flat major, Op. 97(1850) by Robert Schumann (1810-1956).
When David asked me if I wanted to attend this concert, I said yes, enthusiastically. I always find it interesting to attend concerts in other cities to see how these events compare with what we get in the New York area. This time the group consisted of nine people, David’s group of 4, and Johnny’s group of 4.
We had dinner at Thai Place. We picked it for convenience and proximity to the GWU metro station where we could pick up the Kennedy Center shuttle. The food turned out to be good, and reasonably inexpensive.
I played in this concert hall about 35 years ago (it was very new then) and hadn’t been back since. I did go to the Opera House on a couple of occasions. It looks a bit worn at the edges (especially the carpet) but is generally in great shape. Our seats had a great view of the stage.
I had never heard of the opera La gazza ladra (The Thieving Magpie) but certainly knew part of the tune. It is a short and delightful piece, and the orchestra gave it a spirited rendition.
I had never heard of Lendvay before, and neither had David. He ran onto the stage, and with his long hair could be confused with Paganin (perhaps that’s the idea). Paganini’s violin pieces were composed to mainly show off his skills as a violinist, so they tend to be long on flourishes and difficult passages. The piece was played at a quick tempo and the soloist rose to the challenge. He executed flawless the many technical challenges: double stop glissandos, flying arpeggios, staccatos, double harmonics, and runs. He should be forgiven for missing a note here or there. Indeed the audience applauded after the first movement which I thought was appropriate. After a relatively short second movement the piece continued without pause to the third. The three movements of the concerto are: Allegro maestoso, Adagio, and Rondo: Allegro spiritoso. Lendvay’s instrument is the 1693 “Ex-Ries” Stradivarius. One could quibble a bit with the tone quality at the higher pitches, but certainly it carried well and sounded excellent. The one knock on the performance is Lendvay seemed to be a bit careless during the less challenging pieces. He played an encore that I suspect he composed to showcase his own technical ability.
I heard a Schumann symphony not that long ago and really enjoyed it, so I was looking forward to this performance. Unfortunately, the best adjective to describe the performance is “uninspired.” The sounds are clear enough, the players were quite together, and the balance between the voices was good. Yet there was little dynamic variation or emotion attached to the player. I think Fischer tried to inject some life towards the end, but it was too little, too late. The four movements are Lebhaft, Scherzo:Sehr massig, Nicht schnell, Feierlich, and Lebhaft.
Both the soloist and the conductor were born in Budapest, perhaps this is how the connection between them was made.
The acoustics of the auditorium were reasonable, but not brilliant. There were quite a few empty seats.
Program
Overture to La gazza ladra (1817) by Rossini (1792-1868).
Violin Concerto No. 1 in D major, Op. 6 (1817-1818) by Paganini (1782-1840).
Symphony No. 3 (“Rhenish”) in E-flat major, Op. 97(1850) by Robert Schumann (1810-1956).
When David asked me if I wanted to attend this concert, I said yes, enthusiastically. I always find it interesting to attend concerts in other cities to see how these events compare with what we get in the New York area. This time the group consisted of nine people, David’s group of 4, and Johnny’s group of 4.
We had dinner at Thai Place. We picked it for convenience and proximity to the GWU metro station where we could pick up the Kennedy Center shuttle. The food turned out to be good, and reasonably inexpensive.
I played in this concert hall about 35 years ago (it was very new then) and hadn’t been back since. I did go to the Opera House on a couple of occasions. It looks a bit worn at the edges (especially the carpet) but is generally in great shape. Our seats had a great view of the stage.
I had never heard of the opera La gazza ladra (The Thieving Magpie) but certainly knew part of the tune. It is a short and delightful piece, and the orchestra gave it a spirited rendition.
I had never heard of Lendvay before, and neither had David. He ran onto the stage, and with his long hair could be confused with Paganin (perhaps that’s the idea). Paganini’s violin pieces were composed to mainly show off his skills as a violinist, so they tend to be long on flourishes and difficult passages. The piece was played at a quick tempo and the soloist rose to the challenge. He executed flawless the many technical challenges: double stop glissandos, flying arpeggios, staccatos, double harmonics, and runs. He should be forgiven for missing a note here or there. Indeed the audience applauded after the first movement which I thought was appropriate. After a relatively short second movement the piece continued without pause to the third. The three movements of the concerto are: Allegro maestoso, Adagio, and Rondo: Allegro spiritoso. Lendvay’s instrument is the 1693 “Ex-Ries” Stradivarius. One could quibble a bit with the tone quality at the higher pitches, but certainly it carried well and sounded excellent. The one knock on the performance is Lendvay seemed to be a bit careless during the less challenging pieces. He played an encore that I suspect he composed to showcase his own technical ability.
I heard a Schumann symphony not that long ago and really enjoyed it, so I was looking forward to this performance. Unfortunately, the best adjective to describe the performance is “uninspired.” The sounds are clear enough, the players were quite together, and the balance between the voices was good. Yet there was little dynamic variation or emotion attached to the player. I think Fischer tried to inject some life towards the end, but it was too little, too late. The four movements are Lebhaft, Scherzo:Sehr massig, Nicht schnell, Feierlich, and Lebhaft.
Both the soloist and the conductor were born in Budapest, perhaps this is how the connection between them was made.
The acoustics of the auditorium were reasonable, but not brilliant. There were quite a few empty seats.
Metropolitan Opera – Wagner’s Das Rheingold. March 30, 2011.
Metropolitan Opera at Lincoln Center – Balcony Seat G11 ($87.50).
Story. See prior post.
Conductor – Fabio Luisi; Rheinmaidens: Woglinde – Lisette Oropesa, Wellgunde – Jennifer Johnson Cano, Flosshilde – Tamara Mumford, Alberich – Richard Paul Fink, Fricka – Stephanie Blythe, Wotan – Bryn Terfel, Freia – Wendy Bryn Harmer, Fasolt – Franz-Josef Selig, Fafner – Hans-Peter Konig, Froh – Adam Diegel, Donner – Dwayne Croft, Loge – Arnold Bezuyen, Mime – Gerhard Siegel, Erda – Patrician Bardon.
We saw this as part of our (first) Ring series in Seattle in August, 2009. There is a possibility we will see all four operas (in sequence, at that) in the coming couple of years. We will see Die Walkure in May, and have Gotterdammerung as part of our subscription next season. So I just need to remember to buy tickets for Siegfried.
Speaking of tickets. When they went on sale (forget when) Anne and Chung Shu scrambled to buy four of them. Anne couldn’t go because of her business trip to Beijing. I put her ticket on Stubhub a couple of weeks ago, and sold it for $120 within hours (I netted $102). I notice others listed similar tickets at $200 or so. I don’t think that many got sold, and the other sold in the same section went for something like $75. So timing and asking prices are important: and I lucked out. A couple of days ago Shirley decided not to go, so we tried to sell it at the Plaza. We stood there for about 15 minutes and not one person came by to enquire. We decided to use the seat as a coat “hanger” but some lady eventually took the seat (I guess we could have asked for some money, but we didn’t.)
A lot has been written about the new Met set for the Ring cycle. I heard figures as high as $15M quoted (some critics say $40M, the Met says $17M, oh the beauty of accounting), and there seems to no debate that the set weighs 45 tons, and the building has to be reinforced to accommodate it. All good … until you find out the set is built by the design company owned by the director Robert Lepage. Self dealing, anyone?
Minimalist, versatile, brilliant are words that one can use to describe the set. Cheesy, “this again?”, and “what were they thinking” are other ways to do it. I saw the Damnation of Faust production, also by Lepage, and liked it. Even though I had not watched a complete Cirque du Soleil show at that time (only thing I saw were their TV ads), I already guessed there was some linkage to that genre. The use of wires to suspend people, the computer generated distortions as people take their steps, and the rigid march of soldiers are all replicated here. Novel the first time, a bit much the second time around.
The set is basically 24 planks (say 3 feet wide) that run along the length of the stage. Each plank is in three sections that can break off and pivot in various ways, and thus can be arranged to represent different “scenes”. When they are all lined up and bubbles projected onto them, we have the Rheinmaiden scene; when they are rotated on a horizontal axis, we have a staircase, when a few of them are made horizontal, we have the stage for the giants. If one has read up on the story then things can make sense, otherwise a great imagination is needed for any inkling of the setting of the act.
There is a scene where Freia is to be freed only if the gold used as ranson covers here completely. In this case she is encased in a net and the gold plates (or rather gold-colored plastic pieces) were piled on her, which didn’t work at all – everyone could still see her after all the gold is thrown into the net. You could nearly see (and definitely feel) Freia’s concern if things would hold up and she wouldn’t be dropped. Similarly, the body of Fasolt was disposed by raising the planks so he would slide off. He did hang on for balance. This was a lighter moment in the opera, and many laughed.
Alberich had a helmet (which looked more like a piece of chainmail) that he used to change into a snake and a toad. In the Seattle show there was a bit of magic to it, even though you know they made quick switches by darkening the auditorium for a split second. Here the head of the snake was brought out by a couple of stage hands, and on the other the tail flips around. And they don’t pretend there is any magic at all as Alberich (the man) just backs away from the stage.
With all the criticism, the staging overall works reasonably well. It reminds me of the South Amboy station which cost $45M (Wikipedia says $29M) to build and serves about 1000 passengers a day. It works, but there must be equally effective yet less expensive ways to do it. In the case of the train stain, most people suspect there was financial mismanagement, or worse.
I drifted off a bit at the beginning when the Rheinmaidens were singing and teasing Alberich, which is the start of all the troubles. The prurient in me wonders whether the ladies were topless underneath their fishnet costume, but their voices were quite good. I couldn’t help but chuckle when the giants first came on: they reminded me of the blimpy wrestlers you see during Nets basketball games.
The singing and orchestra were much better than what I experienced in Seattle. Not that I remember things that well, but I have no major complaints about either the singing or the orchestra. Stephanie Bythe also sang the role of Fricka in this show, and she was good. If she could lose 50 pounds or so she could be a real star, in my opinion – Voight, anyone? Turns out Albrecht was sung by the same person in Seattle also, but he evidently was not as memorable. A lot has been made about Bryn Tarfel who was generally okay, but not great. As Wotan he did quite a bit of singing (which I don’t remember) and he faded quite a bit towards the end.
The orchestra sound was good. It was probably larger than usual – I counted six harps, although I didn’t notice they all play at the same time. The horns were unsteady at times, especially at the very end.
The major opera houses pride themselves on not using any electronic amplification for the voices, and indeed Freia talks about how her voice effectively reflects off the set. On the other hand, there seems to be no qualms about using the latest computerized technology for staging or using non-period costume. Not that I have problems with either, but to me these practices are a bit contrived. Between not hearing and hearing it with acoustics aid (e.g., in the case of Kiri Te Kawana recently) I would definitely opt for the latter. I have come to the conclusion that few auditoria and singers are so good that everyone can hear everything sitting anywhere. And that, I am sad to say, includes Carnegie Hall.
By now I have heard these operas enough times that I can catch many of the leitmotifs, which makes it more enjoyable. Using a typical opera ticket cost, it costs around $500 to watch a ring cycle. I can see the expenses rack up if one wants to really get to know the cycle. The Program Notes did point out something interesting which came about because Wagner wrote the pieces in reverse order. By the time Das Rheingold was written, his style had changed substantially. That would explain why there are more standalone melodies in his “later” ring operas (e.g., Die Walkure) and that there are none in Das Rheingold. I am glad even music critics think there are no melodies to this opera.
Overall, I enjoyed it. I think I will go ahead and buy tickets to Siegfried.
Chung Shu drove to my house and I drove up to New York City. We had noodles at Ollie’s.
Story. See prior post.
Conductor – Fabio Luisi; Rheinmaidens: Woglinde – Lisette Oropesa, Wellgunde – Jennifer Johnson Cano, Flosshilde – Tamara Mumford, Alberich – Richard Paul Fink, Fricka – Stephanie Blythe, Wotan – Bryn Terfel, Freia – Wendy Bryn Harmer, Fasolt – Franz-Josef Selig, Fafner – Hans-Peter Konig, Froh – Adam Diegel, Donner – Dwayne Croft, Loge – Arnold Bezuyen, Mime – Gerhard Siegel, Erda – Patrician Bardon.
We saw this as part of our (first) Ring series in Seattle in August, 2009. There is a possibility we will see all four operas (in sequence, at that) in the coming couple of years. We will see Die Walkure in May, and have Gotterdammerung as part of our subscription next season. So I just need to remember to buy tickets for Siegfried.
Speaking of tickets. When they went on sale (forget when) Anne and Chung Shu scrambled to buy four of them. Anne couldn’t go because of her business trip to Beijing. I put her ticket on Stubhub a couple of weeks ago, and sold it for $120 within hours (I netted $102). I notice others listed similar tickets at $200 or so. I don’t think that many got sold, and the other sold in the same section went for something like $75. So timing and asking prices are important: and I lucked out. A couple of days ago Shirley decided not to go, so we tried to sell it at the Plaza. We stood there for about 15 minutes and not one person came by to enquire. We decided to use the seat as a coat “hanger” but some lady eventually took the seat (I guess we could have asked for some money, but we didn’t.)
A lot has been written about the new Met set for the Ring cycle. I heard figures as high as $15M quoted (some critics say $40M, the Met says $17M, oh the beauty of accounting), and there seems to no debate that the set weighs 45 tons, and the building has to be reinforced to accommodate it. All good … until you find out the set is built by the design company owned by the director Robert Lepage. Self dealing, anyone?
Minimalist, versatile, brilliant are words that one can use to describe the set. Cheesy, “this again?”, and “what were they thinking” are other ways to do it. I saw the Damnation of Faust production, also by Lepage, and liked it. Even though I had not watched a complete Cirque du Soleil show at that time (only thing I saw were their TV ads), I already guessed there was some linkage to that genre. The use of wires to suspend people, the computer generated distortions as people take their steps, and the rigid march of soldiers are all replicated here. Novel the first time, a bit much the second time around.
The set is basically 24 planks (say 3 feet wide) that run along the length of the stage. Each plank is in three sections that can break off and pivot in various ways, and thus can be arranged to represent different “scenes”. When they are all lined up and bubbles projected onto them, we have the Rheinmaiden scene; when they are rotated on a horizontal axis, we have a staircase, when a few of them are made horizontal, we have the stage for the giants. If one has read up on the story then things can make sense, otherwise a great imagination is needed for any inkling of the setting of the act.
There is a scene where Freia is to be freed only if the gold used as ranson covers here completely. In this case she is encased in a net and the gold plates (or rather gold-colored plastic pieces) were piled on her, which didn’t work at all – everyone could still see her after all the gold is thrown into the net. You could nearly see (and definitely feel) Freia’s concern if things would hold up and she wouldn’t be dropped. Similarly, the body of Fasolt was disposed by raising the planks so he would slide off. He did hang on for balance. This was a lighter moment in the opera, and many laughed.
Alberich had a helmet (which looked more like a piece of chainmail) that he used to change into a snake and a toad. In the Seattle show there was a bit of magic to it, even though you know they made quick switches by darkening the auditorium for a split second. Here the head of the snake was brought out by a couple of stage hands, and on the other the tail flips around. And they don’t pretend there is any magic at all as Alberich (the man) just backs away from the stage.
With all the criticism, the staging overall works reasonably well. It reminds me of the South Amboy station which cost $45M (Wikipedia says $29M) to build and serves about 1000 passengers a day. It works, but there must be equally effective yet less expensive ways to do it. In the case of the train stain, most people suspect there was financial mismanagement, or worse.
I drifted off a bit at the beginning when the Rheinmaidens were singing and teasing Alberich, which is the start of all the troubles. The prurient in me wonders whether the ladies were topless underneath their fishnet costume, but their voices were quite good. I couldn’t help but chuckle when the giants first came on: they reminded me of the blimpy wrestlers you see during Nets basketball games.
The singing and orchestra were much better than what I experienced in Seattle. Not that I remember things that well, but I have no major complaints about either the singing or the orchestra. Stephanie Bythe also sang the role of Fricka in this show, and she was good. If she could lose 50 pounds or so she could be a real star, in my opinion – Voight, anyone? Turns out Albrecht was sung by the same person in Seattle also, but he evidently was not as memorable. A lot has been made about Bryn Tarfel who was generally okay, but not great. As Wotan he did quite a bit of singing (which I don’t remember) and he faded quite a bit towards the end.
The orchestra sound was good. It was probably larger than usual – I counted six harps, although I didn’t notice they all play at the same time. The horns were unsteady at times, especially at the very end.
The major opera houses pride themselves on not using any electronic amplification for the voices, and indeed Freia talks about how her voice effectively reflects off the set. On the other hand, there seems to be no qualms about using the latest computerized technology for staging or using non-period costume. Not that I have problems with either, but to me these practices are a bit contrived. Between not hearing and hearing it with acoustics aid (e.g., in the case of Kiri Te Kawana recently) I would definitely opt for the latter. I have come to the conclusion that few auditoria and singers are so good that everyone can hear everything sitting anywhere. And that, I am sad to say, includes Carnegie Hall.
By now I have heard these operas enough times that I can catch many of the leitmotifs, which makes it more enjoyable. Using a typical opera ticket cost, it costs around $500 to watch a ring cycle. I can see the expenses rack up if one wants to really get to know the cycle. The Program Notes did point out something interesting which came about because Wagner wrote the pieces in reverse order. By the time Das Rheingold was written, his style had changed substantially. That would explain why there are more standalone melodies in his “later” ring operas (e.g., Die Walkure) and that there are none in Das Rheingold. I am glad even music critics think there are no melodies to this opera.
Overall, I enjoyed it. I think I will go ahead and buy tickets to Siegfried.
Chung Shu drove to my house and I drove up to New York City. We had noodles at Ollie’s.
The Elberoth Duo – Dongmyung Ahn, baroque violin; Yi-heng Yang, harpsichord. March 28, 2011.
Holy Trinity Lutheran Church, Central Park West, New York City
Program
“Three Bach Sonatas for violin and harpsichord”
Sonata II in A major, BWV 1015 by Johann Sebastian Bach (1685-1750)
Dolce
Allegro
Andante un poco
Presto
Sonata I in B minor, BWV 1014
Adagio
Allegro
Andante
Allegro
Sonata VI in G major, BWV 1019
Allegro
Largo
Allegro
Adagio
Allegro
I have known Yi-heng since she was born – her parents and we have known each other since our college days. She now holds a Doctor’s degree from Julliard and lives in Manchester, England with her double bassist husband Max. I also met Dee a couple of summers back when I was helping out at the summer music camp at our church.
The venue is a largish church located at corner of Central Park West and 65th. It puts out these Vespers as part of its ministry. I am told it can seat 700 people, there weren’t nearly as many people at tonight’s concert.
Period instruments were used in the performance. I guess there are no “modern” harpsichords anymore. However, both instruments are quite new. The harpsichord looked spotless, nary a scratch, with a shiny polish. The violin, according to Yi-heng, was made by a violin-maker from Texas. The bow is lighter, wound tightly, it seems, and the wood has a concave shape to it. The neck is supposed shorter. Since there is no chin rest, the violin has to be held up by the left hand, which makes position changes a bit more difficult. It sounds pretty much the same, except perhaps with a bit more of a bounce and smoother tone.
My prior encounters with a harpsichord were in an orchestral setting where they were mainly used to play the continuo part. I am a bit surprised at how soft it sounds even up close, and I wonder if they have dampers as the sound was a bit muddled. The fast passages came across as a big “glob” of sound, which is unfortunate as on a piano it would probably be brilliant. Perhaps better understanding come with a bit more training.
Stradivari, who died in 1733, was Bach’s contemporary. So an unaltered Stradivarius would be a legitimate period instrument. However, I suspect anyone who gets hold of one will immediately lengthen the neck, put in a chin rest, and have it otherwise restored so it can be auctioned off for a few million dollars! There must be some irony here.
The concert lasted about 45 minutes, although people hung around for quite a while afterwards. I took the train up and got a ride from Chung Shu.
Program
“Three Bach Sonatas for violin and harpsichord”
Sonata II in A major, BWV 1015 by Johann Sebastian Bach (1685-1750)
Dolce
Allegro
Andante un poco
Presto
Sonata I in B minor, BWV 1014
Adagio
Allegro
Andante
Allegro
Sonata VI in G major, BWV 1019
Allegro
Largo
Allegro
Adagio
Allegro
I have known Yi-heng since she was born – her parents and we have known each other since our college days. She now holds a Doctor’s degree from Julliard and lives in Manchester, England with her double bassist husband Max. I also met Dee a couple of summers back when I was helping out at the summer music camp at our church.
The venue is a largish church located at corner of Central Park West and 65th. It puts out these Vespers as part of its ministry. I am told it can seat 700 people, there weren’t nearly as many people at tonight’s concert.
Period instruments were used in the performance. I guess there are no “modern” harpsichords anymore. However, both instruments are quite new. The harpsichord looked spotless, nary a scratch, with a shiny polish. The violin, according to Yi-heng, was made by a violin-maker from Texas. The bow is lighter, wound tightly, it seems, and the wood has a concave shape to it. The neck is supposed shorter. Since there is no chin rest, the violin has to be held up by the left hand, which makes position changes a bit more difficult. It sounds pretty much the same, except perhaps with a bit more of a bounce and smoother tone.
My prior encounters with a harpsichord were in an orchestral setting where they were mainly used to play the continuo part. I am a bit surprised at how soft it sounds even up close, and I wonder if they have dampers as the sound was a bit muddled. The fast passages came across as a big “glob” of sound, which is unfortunate as on a piano it would probably be brilliant. Perhaps better understanding come with a bit more training.
Stradivari, who died in 1733, was Bach’s contemporary. So an unaltered Stradivarius would be a legitimate period instrument. However, I suspect anyone who gets hold of one will immediately lengthen the neck, put in a chin rest, and have it otherwise restored so it can be auctioned off for a few million dollars! There must be some irony here.
The concert lasted about 45 minutes, although people hung around for quite a while afterwards. I took the train up and got a ride from Chung Shu.
Thursday, March 24, 2011
NHK Symphony Orchestra, Tokyo - Andre Previn, conductor; Dame Kiri Te Kanawa, soprano. March 21, 2011.
Issac Stern Auditorium at Carnegie Hall, Center Balcony (CB Center Left; Seat O19, $35).
Program
Green (1967) by Toru Takemitsu (1930-1996).
Vier letzte Lieder (Four Last Songs) (1948) by Richard Strauss (1864-1949).
Symphony No. 5 in B-flat Major, Op. 100 (1944) by Sergei Prokofiev (1891-1953).
The Executive Director of Carnegie Hall and the chairman of the Orchestra came out at the beginning and gave short speeches about the recent events in Japan. The orchestra then played Bach’s Air from Orchestral Suite No. 3 to commemorate the tragedies. The group left Tokyo within a day of the earthquake, I assume many players have loved ones caught up in the still-onging drama, it must be heart-wrenching. Turns out Te Kanawa’s home country of New Zealand also suffered a major earthquake in Christchurch.
All the program pieces were written in the 20th century, and I was hearing them for the first time. I don’t think I had ever seen Andre Previn before, so I was not prepared to see him come on stage with a cane, nor his considerable problem climbing onto the podium. Of the over-80 conductors I have seen (Maazel, Masur, Sir Colin Davis, to name a few) he seems to be the frailest. He conducted while sitting in a chair with reasonable energy, most of the time.
Takemitsu is supposed to be the first well-known Japanese composer of western music. To quote from the Program Notes, the piece is “short, concentrated, and rapturous” and “the pensive opening becomes increasingly agitated …” which eventually gets to “as the work fades towards a quiet bell.” I am not sure I heard any of that.
Te Kanawa is a well-known opera singer. At 65 or so (New York Times says she’s 67), she doesn’t sing much nowadays, so we were looking forward to her performance. Alas, our seats (up in the second to last row) were great for orchestral music, but not so good with her voice. We had trouble hearing her, and what I heard sounded like English (the songs are in German). I assume things would be better if she looked up a bit, or our seats were at a lower level. Thus my principle of buying good tickets is again affirmed. The four last songs should be quite interesting: Spring; September; Going to Sleep; and At Sunset.
I generally like Prokofiev’s work, but only after multiple listenings. This symphony would fall into that category. The sounds are harmonious enough, and there appear to be many melodies. But I will need to familiarize myself with it if I am to enjoy it the same way I enjoy his violin concerto (in G minor) and his Romeo & Juliette ballet. The Four movements are Andante, Allegro marcato, Adagio, and Allegro giocoso.
We went to this concert with the Yangs. Driving in and out of the City was easy enough. We had sandwich and soup at Hale & Hearty Soups before the concert.
Also, I need to put in this obligatory complaint about the lack of leg room in the balcony section.
See the New York Times Review. It is quite brutal, both on Te Kanawa and Previn; it is a lot kinder on the orchestra.
Program
Green (1967) by Toru Takemitsu (1930-1996).
Vier letzte Lieder (Four Last Songs) (1948) by Richard Strauss (1864-1949).
Symphony No. 5 in B-flat Major, Op. 100 (1944) by Sergei Prokofiev (1891-1953).
The Executive Director of Carnegie Hall and the chairman of the Orchestra came out at the beginning and gave short speeches about the recent events in Japan. The orchestra then played Bach’s Air from Orchestral Suite No. 3 to commemorate the tragedies. The group left Tokyo within a day of the earthquake, I assume many players have loved ones caught up in the still-onging drama, it must be heart-wrenching. Turns out Te Kanawa’s home country of New Zealand also suffered a major earthquake in Christchurch.
All the program pieces were written in the 20th century, and I was hearing them for the first time. I don’t think I had ever seen Andre Previn before, so I was not prepared to see him come on stage with a cane, nor his considerable problem climbing onto the podium. Of the over-80 conductors I have seen (Maazel, Masur, Sir Colin Davis, to name a few) he seems to be the frailest. He conducted while sitting in a chair with reasonable energy, most of the time.
Takemitsu is supposed to be the first well-known Japanese composer of western music. To quote from the Program Notes, the piece is “short, concentrated, and rapturous” and “the pensive opening becomes increasingly agitated …” which eventually gets to “as the work fades towards a quiet bell.” I am not sure I heard any of that.
Te Kanawa is a well-known opera singer. At 65 or so (New York Times says she’s 67), she doesn’t sing much nowadays, so we were looking forward to her performance. Alas, our seats (up in the second to last row) were great for orchestral music, but not so good with her voice. We had trouble hearing her, and what I heard sounded like English (the songs are in German). I assume things would be better if she looked up a bit, or our seats were at a lower level. Thus my principle of buying good tickets is again affirmed. The four last songs should be quite interesting: Spring; September; Going to Sleep; and At Sunset.
I generally like Prokofiev’s work, but only after multiple listenings. This symphony would fall into that category. The sounds are harmonious enough, and there appear to be many melodies. But I will need to familiarize myself with it if I am to enjoy it the same way I enjoy his violin concerto (in G minor) and his Romeo & Juliette ballet. The Four movements are Andante, Allegro marcato, Adagio, and Allegro giocoso.
We went to this concert with the Yangs. Driving in and out of the City was easy enough. We had sandwich and soup at Hale & Hearty Soups before the concert.
Also, I need to put in this obligatory complaint about the lack of leg room in the balcony section.
See the New York Times Review. It is quite brutal, both on Te Kanawa and Previn; it is a lot kinder on the orchestra.
Monday, March 21, 2011
Orpheus Chamber Orchestra with Rudulf Buchbinder, piano. March 19, 2011.
Stern Auditorium at Carnegie Hall, Section Parquet Right (Row Y, Seat 14, $25).
Program
Concerto for Small Orchestra, Op. 34 (1927) by Albert Roussel (1869-1937).
Piano Concerto No. 20 in D minor, K. 466 (1785) by Mozart (1756-1791).
Waves (1988) by Fred Lerdahl (b. 1943).
Symphony No. 39 in E-flat major, K. 543 (1788) by Mozart.
The concert began with the Orchestra’s executive director speaking of the recent Japanese tragedies (earthquake, tsunami, and nuclear plants) and vowing to do the best to get the orchestra to Japan in 2012 as planned (including Sendai). The orchestra then played as a tribute Faure’s Pavanne. The audience applauded afterwards which I thought was slightly inappropriate. On the other hand, there was some awkwardness that needed to be broken up, and applauding perhaps was one way of doing it.
The Program Notes says that Roussel was a contemporary of Debussy and Ravel, but not nearly as well-known. This concerto for small orchestra represents Roussel’s later work and his “mature sound.” For me it also explains why his work is not played that often, since it definitely failed to grab me in any way, except it is thankfully short at about 12 minutes. The three movements are described by the annotator as (i) “rambunctious” Allegro; (ii) “central” Andante; and (iii) “concluding” Presto (well, there is more to the description).
Neither of the two Mozart pieces is considered to be among most popular of the composer's oeuvre (hey, I got to use this word, even though I had to murder the sentence). The piano concerto was composed by Mozart when he was very popular. He finished the Piano Concerto the day before the performance. The Program Notes talks about a subscription series with 151 patrons – evidently you didn’t need a huge audience to make it as a performer/composer during those times. I do not know the nuances of piano performance to distinguish a good one from an exquisite one, so I can just say I found this quite enjoyable. The lines were crisp, the dynamics were fluid, and the interplay between soloist and orchestra was good. The movements are (i) Allegro; (ii) Romanze; and (iii) Rondo: Allegro assai. Someone’s cell phone rang just as the soloist was about to launch into a cadenza; I guess these incidents can’t be helped. If the biography is any guide, Buchbinder is an impressively-credentialed artist.
The symphony was written three years later as a group of three (39, 40, 41). Mozart had fallen on hard times by then. Music historians think he was trying to drum up some business with these compositions, and sadly may not have heard them before he died. I do not find the performance of this Symphony particularly noteworthy, though. The four movements are (i) Adagio - Allegro; (ii) Andante con moto; (iii) Menuetto: Allegretto; and (iv) Finale: Allegro.
After the intermission, a WQXR DJ (forget her name) came on stage and had a short discussion with Lerdahl and violist Nardo Roy about the next piece “Waves.” It probably wasn’t rehearsed before hand; it certainly sounded that way. Two take-aways: waves refer to musical energy, and Roy finds the music to be complex at many levels.
This piece was written 20-plus years ago for three chamber orchestras, including the Orpheus. The orchestra first played it in 1989, a year after it was composed. And that was the last time it played the piece. Unless there are other connections, to say there is a history between the composer and the orchestra is stretching it a bit. What I am curious about is when the orchestra will play it next: another 20 or so years later?
As with the last Orpheus concert I went to, my impression of the orchestra is just so-so. It actually makes me wonder if Carnegie Hall is as acoustically perfect as it is said to be. Nonetheless, I renewed my subscription for the next season. At $25 a ticket it is not a tough decision to make.
Program
Concerto for Small Orchestra, Op. 34 (1927) by Albert Roussel (1869-1937).
Piano Concerto No. 20 in D minor, K. 466 (1785) by Mozart (1756-1791).
Waves (1988) by Fred Lerdahl (b. 1943).
Symphony No. 39 in E-flat major, K. 543 (1788) by Mozart.
The concert began with the Orchestra’s executive director speaking of the recent Japanese tragedies (earthquake, tsunami, and nuclear plants) and vowing to do the best to get the orchestra to Japan in 2012 as planned (including Sendai). The orchestra then played as a tribute Faure’s Pavanne. The audience applauded afterwards which I thought was slightly inappropriate. On the other hand, there was some awkwardness that needed to be broken up, and applauding perhaps was one way of doing it.
The Program Notes says that Roussel was a contemporary of Debussy and Ravel, but not nearly as well-known. This concerto for small orchestra represents Roussel’s later work and his “mature sound.” For me it also explains why his work is not played that often, since it definitely failed to grab me in any way, except it is thankfully short at about 12 minutes. The three movements are described by the annotator as (i) “rambunctious” Allegro; (ii) “central” Andante; and (iii) “concluding” Presto (well, there is more to the description).
Neither of the two Mozart pieces is considered to be among most popular of the composer's oeuvre (hey, I got to use this word, even though I had to murder the sentence). The piano concerto was composed by Mozart when he was very popular. He finished the Piano Concerto the day before the performance. The Program Notes talks about a subscription series with 151 patrons – evidently you didn’t need a huge audience to make it as a performer/composer during those times. I do not know the nuances of piano performance to distinguish a good one from an exquisite one, so I can just say I found this quite enjoyable. The lines were crisp, the dynamics were fluid, and the interplay between soloist and orchestra was good. The movements are (i) Allegro; (ii) Romanze; and (iii) Rondo: Allegro assai. Someone’s cell phone rang just as the soloist was about to launch into a cadenza; I guess these incidents can’t be helped. If the biography is any guide, Buchbinder is an impressively-credentialed artist.
The symphony was written three years later as a group of three (39, 40, 41). Mozart had fallen on hard times by then. Music historians think he was trying to drum up some business with these compositions, and sadly may not have heard them before he died. I do not find the performance of this Symphony particularly noteworthy, though. The four movements are (i) Adagio - Allegro; (ii) Andante con moto; (iii) Menuetto: Allegretto; and (iv) Finale: Allegro.
After the intermission, a WQXR DJ (forget her name) came on stage and had a short discussion with Lerdahl and violist Nardo Roy about the next piece “Waves.” It probably wasn’t rehearsed before hand; it certainly sounded that way. Two take-aways: waves refer to musical energy, and Roy finds the music to be complex at many levels.
This piece was written 20-plus years ago for three chamber orchestras, including the Orpheus. The orchestra first played it in 1989, a year after it was composed. And that was the last time it played the piece. Unless there are other connections, to say there is a history between the composer and the orchestra is stretching it a bit. What I am curious about is when the orchestra will play it next: another 20 or so years later?
As with the last Orpheus concert I went to, my impression of the orchestra is just so-so. It actually makes me wonder if Carnegie Hall is as acoustically perfect as it is said to be. Nonetheless, I renewed my subscription for the next season. At $25 a ticket it is not a tough decision to make.
Thursday, March 17, 2011
Metropolitan Opera – Tchaikovsky’s Queen of Spades. March 15, 2011.
Metropolitan Opera at Lincoln Center - Balcony Seat D27 ($87.50).
Story. Hermann is in love with Lisa. He also finds out Lisa’s Countess grandmother, known as The Queen of Spades, holds the secret to the three cards that form a winning combination. Even though Lisa is engaged to Yeletsky, she gives Hermann the key to the house. Hermann first sees the Countess and tries to use a pistol to force her to reveal the numbers; instead she dies from fright. The Countess appears to Hermann in a dream and reveals the numbers as “3, 7, and ace.” Lisa realizes that Hermann is consumed with this and drowns herself. Hermann goes to a card game and wins with the number 3 and 7. When he bets on the ace, he gets the queen of hearts instead and loses. He asks for forgiveness and stabs himself to death.
Conductor – Andris Nelsons. Hermann – Vladimir Galouzine, Prince Yeletsky – Peter Mattei, Lisa – Karita Mattila, The Countess – Dolora Zajick, Pauline/Daphnis – Tamara Mumford.
The Story I wrote above is the most “sensical” line I can put together. The original Pushkin short story has Hermann simply courting Lisa to get to the secret. The opera’s libretto was written by Modest, Tchaikovsky’s brother. Tchaikovsky wanted a more prominent role for Lisa so she ended up meeting with Hermann in Act III and killing herself. Also, in the Pushkin story Hermann went mad and lived in an asylum muttering “three, seven, ace” all the time. Whatever the reason, the story as told by the opera has many gaps. Lisa drowns herself by walking through a curtain; I wouldn’t have realized it had I not read the synopsis. Nonetheless, the story is coherent enough that its holes and inconsistencies didn’t bother me very much.
The Balcony section actually has good acoustics. Our seats were to the side, but we heard all the singers very clearly. We decided to subscribe again for the 2011/12 season and picked Balcony Prime seats. They are less expensive than Dress Circle seats, but the acoustics are a bit muffled for the rear DC seats.
The sets for this opera are quite elaborate. The Program Notes says Tchaikovsky didn’t set the story at the time of Catherine the Great (1762-1796) but in “the 19th-century fairyland known as the ‘18th century’”. Not that I would know the difference – perhaps the costume would be different? In any case, Catherine the Great made a short appearance (she walked in half-way and then left), no doubt to the puzzlement of many in the audience. It is amazing how deep the stage is, and in this opera the depth is used to good effect.
The current issue of Opera News has an article on the role of The Countess. The role is usually sung by a singer near retirement and allows her to have quite a bit of fun acting. There is also considerable singing, but not particularly challenging. The article exempts Zajick as someone at the twilight of her career, though. As a ghost, she climbs from an opening on the floor and crawls to the bed where Hermann is sleeping. Funny, a bit grotesque, but not scary. The ghost is dressed in red, not quite the white with a spot light that in my opinion would work better.
Tchaikovsky spreads the singing around. Other secondary characters also got to sing quite a bit. Of particular note is Tamara Mumford who sang both Pauline (Lisa’s sister) and Daphnis (a young man in the pastorale). Tchaikovsky certainly was capable of writing hummable melodies; for some reason he decided to use a different style. A notable exception in this case was the Pastorale where the melodies are all quite pleasant and singable.
For me the one missing element is the emotional aspect of the story. The work has enjoyable sets, singing, the orchestra played well, and there are some nice passages (even though not singable), but nothing tugs at your heart, which is a pity. Perhaps it is futile to add a love element to a story that is basically deceit-themed?
Overall, still an enjoyable experience. The New York Times review goes into quite a bit of detail about many aspects of the opera. In particular, it points out Mattila first sang in this production in 1995, and her voice is not as strong as before. Indeed I felt she had to strain a bit to get to the high notes. The reviewer also calls Zajick "luxury casting."
Story. Hermann is in love with Lisa. He also finds out Lisa’s Countess grandmother, known as The Queen of Spades, holds the secret to the three cards that form a winning combination. Even though Lisa is engaged to Yeletsky, she gives Hermann the key to the house. Hermann first sees the Countess and tries to use a pistol to force her to reveal the numbers; instead she dies from fright. The Countess appears to Hermann in a dream and reveals the numbers as “3, 7, and ace.” Lisa realizes that Hermann is consumed with this and drowns herself. Hermann goes to a card game and wins with the number 3 and 7. When he bets on the ace, he gets the queen of hearts instead and loses. He asks for forgiveness and stabs himself to death.
Conductor – Andris Nelsons. Hermann – Vladimir Galouzine, Prince Yeletsky – Peter Mattei, Lisa – Karita Mattila, The Countess – Dolora Zajick, Pauline/Daphnis – Tamara Mumford.
The Story I wrote above is the most “sensical” line I can put together. The original Pushkin short story has Hermann simply courting Lisa to get to the secret. The opera’s libretto was written by Modest, Tchaikovsky’s brother. Tchaikovsky wanted a more prominent role for Lisa so she ended up meeting with Hermann in Act III and killing herself. Also, in the Pushkin story Hermann went mad and lived in an asylum muttering “three, seven, ace” all the time. Whatever the reason, the story as told by the opera has many gaps. Lisa drowns herself by walking through a curtain; I wouldn’t have realized it had I not read the synopsis. Nonetheless, the story is coherent enough that its holes and inconsistencies didn’t bother me very much.
The Balcony section actually has good acoustics. Our seats were to the side, but we heard all the singers very clearly. We decided to subscribe again for the 2011/12 season and picked Balcony Prime seats. They are less expensive than Dress Circle seats, but the acoustics are a bit muffled for the rear DC seats.
The sets for this opera are quite elaborate. The Program Notes says Tchaikovsky didn’t set the story at the time of Catherine the Great (1762-1796) but in “the 19th-century fairyland known as the ‘18th century’”. Not that I would know the difference – perhaps the costume would be different? In any case, Catherine the Great made a short appearance (she walked in half-way and then left), no doubt to the puzzlement of many in the audience. It is amazing how deep the stage is, and in this opera the depth is used to good effect.
The current issue of Opera News has an article on the role of The Countess. The role is usually sung by a singer near retirement and allows her to have quite a bit of fun acting. There is also considerable singing, but not particularly challenging. The article exempts Zajick as someone at the twilight of her career, though. As a ghost, she climbs from an opening on the floor and crawls to the bed where Hermann is sleeping. Funny, a bit grotesque, but not scary. The ghost is dressed in red, not quite the white with a spot light that in my opinion would work better.
Tchaikovsky spreads the singing around. Other secondary characters also got to sing quite a bit. Of particular note is Tamara Mumford who sang both Pauline (Lisa’s sister) and Daphnis (a young man in the pastorale). Tchaikovsky certainly was capable of writing hummable melodies; for some reason he decided to use a different style. A notable exception in this case was the Pastorale where the melodies are all quite pleasant and singable.
For me the one missing element is the emotional aspect of the story. The work has enjoyable sets, singing, the orchestra played well, and there are some nice passages (even though not singable), but nothing tugs at your heart, which is a pity. Perhaps it is futile to add a love element to a story that is basically deceit-themed?
Overall, still an enjoyable experience. The New York Times review goes into quite a bit of detail about many aspects of the opera. In particular, it points out Mattila first sang in this production in 1995, and her voice is not as strong as before. Indeed I felt she had to strain a bit to get to the high notes. The reviewer also calls Zajick "luxury casting."
Tuesday, March 15, 2011
Metropolitan Opera – Mussorgsky’s Boris Godunov. March 12, 2011.
Metropolitan Opera at Lincoln Center – Balcony Seat F22 ($100).
Story. This is based on Pushkin’s account of Godunov who became Tsar of Russia in 1598. He does that by killing his brother’s son (thus heir to the kingdom) but remains haunted by the act. Meanwhile, a monastery novice Grigory escapes from the monastery, assumes the identity of the tsarevich Dimitri, assembles an army, and marches onto Moscow. He is cheered on by the Polish royalty Marina Mnishek who wants to ascend to the Russian throne. Godunov dies and names his son as the heir. The opera ends with the crowd getting unruly and marching towards Moscow, with the Holy Fool lamenting Russia’s uncertain fate.
Conductor – Pavel Smelkov; Boris Godunov – Rene Pape, Pimen, a monk – Mikhail Petrenko, Grigory, a monk, later pretender to the Russian throne – Aleksandrs Antonenko, Marina – Ekaterina Semenchuk, Holy Fool – Andrey Popov.
This performance was going to be conducted by Valery Gergiev, who was ill. Pavel Smelkov was the substitute conductor. He is on the 25-member roster of Met conductors, but I don’t recall ever seeing one of his concerts. I wonder if they have understudies in opera performances. I can’t imagine this long and rather complex opera be in everyone’s repertoire. The cast is was a nearly all-“Russian” affair, the notable exception being the German-born bass Rene Pape who sang the role of Godunov.
The Program Notes mentions that one has to put the opera in the context of history to fully appreciate it. For instance, we didn’t see the murder of Dimitri, and while the story ends with Godunov’s death, we do not know if his son ends up getting overturned. I am okay with that, indeed sometimes one has to do quite a bit of research; oftentimes just seeing it would leave you in the fog. No amount of research, however, will prepare me enough to understand how Russian names are put together so I can clearly tell who is who in the cast.
Act III was put in by Mussorsky after the rest of the opera was ready because people wanted to have a major female role in the work. Thus we get the Polish royalty Marina and the catholic priest who urges her to marry Dimitri and convert Russian to the Catholic faith. I am not sure this 45-minute addition does anything to the opera or the story. I would much rather see more context added to the story, or have the opera cut short by 45 minutes altogether.
What is most unfair in this whole thing is that historians nowadays don’t think Godunov had anything to do with the death of Dimitri. I guess he finally got “rehabitated” after several hundred years.
The singing was generally fine, and very clear from where we were seated. My only quibble is with Semenchuk (singing the role of Marina) who ended her phrases a bit too abruptly. (Note: I may have confused her with someone else, in which case my apologies.)
The staging is generally sparse. But they do use a large chorus, perhaps close to 150 members. As the Program Notes indicates, the Russian people were not put into the best light. They were like sheep that were easily led this way or the other. We are talking about late 16th and early 17th centuries here, this perhaps should be expected. And this still happens today.
This is billed as one of the most important Russian operas. I have seen limited number of them, so I can’t really agree or disagree. However, I certainly found “War and Peace” much more compelling. Yesterday I bought tickets to see Tchaikovsky’s “The Queen of Spades”, so I will have another point of comparison. We saw Onegin quite a few years ago, and I forget how I felt about it. Also, this opera reminds me of Macbeth, who also came to power via murder and eventually went crazy. Macbeth's character was better developed, and we could see how his guilt eventually got to him.
The opera ended at about 4:30 pm, so we had time to walk down to Carnegie Deli for an early dinner (Pastrami for me, Corned Beef for Anne) before we headed home.
The New York Times review was for a performance last October although it was for the same cast. Evidently there was a last minute change in the director, who featured rather prominently in the review.
Story. This is based on Pushkin’s account of Godunov who became Tsar of Russia in 1598. He does that by killing his brother’s son (thus heir to the kingdom) but remains haunted by the act. Meanwhile, a monastery novice Grigory escapes from the monastery, assumes the identity of the tsarevich Dimitri, assembles an army, and marches onto Moscow. He is cheered on by the Polish royalty Marina Mnishek who wants to ascend to the Russian throne. Godunov dies and names his son as the heir. The opera ends with the crowd getting unruly and marching towards Moscow, with the Holy Fool lamenting Russia’s uncertain fate.
Conductor – Pavel Smelkov; Boris Godunov – Rene Pape, Pimen, a monk – Mikhail Petrenko, Grigory, a monk, later pretender to the Russian throne – Aleksandrs Antonenko, Marina – Ekaterina Semenchuk, Holy Fool – Andrey Popov.
This performance was going to be conducted by Valery Gergiev, who was ill. Pavel Smelkov was the substitute conductor. He is on the 25-member roster of Met conductors, but I don’t recall ever seeing one of his concerts. I wonder if they have understudies in opera performances. I can’t imagine this long and rather complex opera be in everyone’s repertoire. The cast is was a nearly all-“Russian” affair, the notable exception being the German-born bass Rene Pape who sang the role of Godunov.
The Program Notes mentions that one has to put the opera in the context of history to fully appreciate it. For instance, we didn’t see the murder of Dimitri, and while the story ends with Godunov’s death, we do not know if his son ends up getting overturned. I am okay with that, indeed sometimes one has to do quite a bit of research; oftentimes just seeing it would leave you in the fog. No amount of research, however, will prepare me enough to understand how Russian names are put together so I can clearly tell who is who in the cast.
Act III was put in by Mussorsky after the rest of the opera was ready because people wanted to have a major female role in the work. Thus we get the Polish royalty Marina and the catholic priest who urges her to marry Dimitri and convert Russian to the Catholic faith. I am not sure this 45-minute addition does anything to the opera or the story. I would much rather see more context added to the story, or have the opera cut short by 45 minutes altogether.
What is most unfair in this whole thing is that historians nowadays don’t think Godunov had anything to do with the death of Dimitri. I guess he finally got “rehabitated” after several hundred years.
The singing was generally fine, and very clear from where we were seated. My only quibble is with Semenchuk (singing the role of Marina) who ended her phrases a bit too abruptly. (Note: I may have confused her with someone else, in which case my apologies.)
The staging is generally sparse. But they do use a large chorus, perhaps close to 150 members. As the Program Notes indicates, the Russian people were not put into the best light. They were like sheep that were easily led this way or the other. We are talking about late 16th and early 17th centuries here, this perhaps should be expected. And this still happens today.
This is billed as one of the most important Russian operas. I have seen limited number of them, so I can’t really agree or disagree. However, I certainly found “War and Peace” much more compelling. Yesterday I bought tickets to see Tchaikovsky’s “The Queen of Spades”, so I will have another point of comparison. We saw Onegin quite a few years ago, and I forget how I felt about it. Also, this opera reminds me of Macbeth, who also came to power via murder and eventually went crazy. Macbeth's character was better developed, and we could see how his guilt eventually got to him.
The opera ended at about 4:30 pm, so we had time to walk down to Carnegie Deli for an early dinner (Pastrami for me, Corned Beef for Anne) before we headed home.
The New York Times review was for a performance last October although it was for the same cast. Evidently there was a last minute change in the director, who featured rather prominently in the review.
Sunday, March 13, 2011
New York Philharmonic – Esa-Pekka Salonen, conductor; Marino Formenti, piano. March 11, 2011.
Avery Fisher Hall at Lincoln Center, Orchestra 1 (Seat T7, $65).
Program
Symphony No. 6 in D major, Le Matin (The Morning), Hob. I:6 (1761) by Haydn (1732-1809).
Concerto for Piano and Orchestra (1985-86/88) by Ligeti (1923-2006).
Concerto for Orchestra, BB 123, Sz 116 (1943) by Bartok (1881-1945).
I learned a few things in this concert, part of the “Hungarian Echoes: A Philharmonic Festival” series conducted by Esa-Pekka Salonen. First, Haydn was born in an Austrian city very close to Hungry, he didn’t have formal training in music (perhaps very few people had then), and that he composed a series of three symphonies while he was at his employer’s summer residence in Hungary. One of the objectives for Haydn for these “times of day” symphonies was to have passages to highlight the skills of the musicians, this to get on the good side of his new colleagues.
The orchestra is quite small, and Michelle Kim was the concertmaster for this work. She had quite a few virtuoso passages which she did quite well. Our seat (Row T, left side) was very good, and I could hear the parts very distinctly. Other instruments also got themselves showcased in this 20 or so minute work. The four movements are (i) Adagio – Allegro; (ii) Adagio – Andante – Adagio; (iii) Menuet e Trio; and (iv) Finale: Allegro. All in all a delightful piece.
For the Ligeti piece, the originally scheduled pianist Pierre-Laurent Aimard had to withdraw because of illness, substituting for him was the Italian pianist-conductor Marino Formenti. In the Instrumentation section of the notes we see interesting items such as doubling alto ocarina, roto-toms, guiro, flexatone, crotales, and others. I counted over 35 different instruments in that list, and yet there were fewer than 20 musicians, including the conductor, the soloist, and the page turner. Indeed there was only one string player for each voice. Go figure.
Brandenburg concerto this is not. There was a lot of banging on the piano, and the orchestra’s parts aren’t simple either. Ligeti at first had only three movements for this work: Vivace molto ritmico e preciso; Lento e deserto; and Vivace cantabile. After listening to it, he decided it needed more work and added Allegro risoluto, molto ritmicao; and Presto luminoso. Well, perhaps it needed more work in other aspects also.
I actually thought this was the first Ligeti piece I ever heard, but upon checking my prior blogs, found out it wasn’t. I suspect I will forget about this performance also.
Both Dicterow and Maples returned for the second half of the program where we find a full orchestra seated for Bartok’s work. Evidently they wanted to give Kim her time under the spotlight. Whatever you say about the New York Philharmonic, it certainly has a great depth of players, many would qualify as leader in any major orchestra.
I heard the Concerto for Orchestra a few years ago and – despite my general fondness for Bartok’s music – didn’t appreciate it very much. My experience is quite different this time. I am quite sure it is the same program notes, but I found the music to follow the description quite well. There are three solemn movements(Introduction: Andante non troppo – Allegro vivace; Elegy: Andante non troppo and Finale: Pesante – Presto) with two interleaving lighter ones (Game of Couples – Allegro scherzando and Interrupted Intermezzo: Allegretto). The Intermezzo contains a reference to Shostokovich’s Seventh Symphony. Evidently Bartok disliked Shostokovich; why parodying his music would be an affront, I don’t understand.
The sad story surrounding this composition was that it was commissioned by Serge Koussevitzy, at that time the conductor of the Boston Symphony. Bartok was quite ill with what was eventually diagnosed as leukemia, and this was a way his Hungarian friends went about supporting him. Ironically Koussevitzy wasn’t particularly fond of Bartok’s music until this work. Bartok passed away a couple of years later.
Given tonight’s experience, I am tempted to see if I can go to the other two concerts in this series. It is quite unlikely with Anne’s and my schedule the next couple of weeks, though. I wrote this review a day after I heard the concert, and – alas – already forgot a lot about what I wanted to say. To be fair, there is an opera of more than four hours' length in between.
After lunch at China Fun, Anne and I drove up the Hudson to see if we could find any bald eagles. We saw quite a few of them a couple of winters back. Traffic was horrific due to flooding caused by recent heavy rains. We couldn’t drive up the Saw Mill River Parkway, and the area around Elmsford was cordoned off because of rising waters. We ended up having to skip all the places we wanted to visit except for where we were at the last outing: a parking lot across the river from Bear Mountain. No bald eagles, though; the extra 120 miles of driving for nothing.
Back to the review. The New York Times review is very positive. The reviewer goes to great lengths to describe Ligeti’s concerto.
Program
Symphony No. 6 in D major, Le Matin (The Morning), Hob. I:6 (1761) by Haydn (1732-1809).
Concerto for Piano and Orchestra (1985-86/88) by Ligeti (1923-2006).
Concerto for Orchestra, BB 123, Sz 116 (1943) by Bartok (1881-1945).
I learned a few things in this concert, part of the “Hungarian Echoes: A Philharmonic Festival” series conducted by Esa-Pekka Salonen. First, Haydn was born in an Austrian city very close to Hungry, he didn’t have formal training in music (perhaps very few people had then), and that he composed a series of three symphonies while he was at his employer’s summer residence in Hungary. One of the objectives for Haydn for these “times of day” symphonies was to have passages to highlight the skills of the musicians, this to get on the good side of his new colleagues.
The orchestra is quite small, and Michelle Kim was the concertmaster for this work. She had quite a few virtuoso passages which she did quite well. Our seat (Row T, left side) was very good, and I could hear the parts very distinctly. Other instruments also got themselves showcased in this 20 or so minute work. The four movements are (i) Adagio – Allegro; (ii) Adagio – Andante – Adagio; (iii) Menuet e Trio; and (iv) Finale: Allegro. All in all a delightful piece.
For the Ligeti piece, the originally scheduled pianist Pierre-Laurent Aimard had to withdraw because of illness, substituting for him was the Italian pianist-conductor Marino Formenti. In the Instrumentation section of the notes we see interesting items such as doubling alto ocarina, roto-toms, guiro, flexatone, crotales, and others. I counted over 35 different instruments in that list, and yet there were fewer than 20 musicians, including the conductor, the soloist, and the page turner. Indeed there was only one string player for each voice. Go figure.
Brandenburg concerto this is not. There was a lot of banging on the piano, and the orchestra’s parts aren’t simple either. Ligeti at first had only three movements for this work: Vivace molto ritmico e preciso; Lento e deserto; and Vivace cantabile. After listening to it, he decided it needed more work and added Allegro risoluto, molto ritmicao; and Presto luminoso. Well, perhaps it needed more work in other aspects also.
I actually thought this was the first Ligeti piece I ever heard, but upon checking my prior blogs, found out it wasn’t. I suspect I will forget about this performance also.
Both Dicterow and Maples returned for the second half of the program where we find a full orchestra seated for Bartok’s work. Evidently they wanted to give Kim her time under the spotlight. Whatever you say about the New York Philharmonic, it certainly has a great depth of players, many would qualify as leader in any major orchestra.
I heard the Concerto for Orchestra a few years ago and – despite my general fondness for Bartok’s music – didn’t appreciate it very much. My experience is quite different this time. I am quite sure it is the same program notes, but I found the music to follow the description quite well. There are three solemn movements(Introduction: Andante non troppo – Allegro vivace; Elegy: Andante non troppo and Finale: Pesante – Presto) with two interleaving lighter ones (Game of Couples – Allegro scherzando and Interrupted Intermezzo: Allegretto). The Intermezzo contains a reference to Shostokovich’s Seventh Symphony. Evidently Bartok disliked Shostokovich; why parodying his music would be an affront, I don’t understand.
The sad story surrounding this composition was that it was commissioned by Serge Koussevitzy, at that time the conductor of the Boston Symphony. Bartok was quite ill with what was eventually diagnosed as leukemia, and this was a way his Hungarian friends went about supporting him. Ironically Koussevitzy wasn’t particularly fond of Bartok’s music until this work. Bartok passed away a couple of years later.
Given tonight’s experience, I am tempted to see if I can go to the other two concerts in this series. It is quite unlikely with Anne’s and my schedule the next couple of weeks, though. I wrote this review a day after I heard the concert, and – alas – already forgot a lot about what I wanted to say. To be fair, there is an opera of more than four hours' length in between.
After lunch at China Fun, Anne and I drove up the Hudson to see if we could find any bald eagles. We saw quite a few of them a couple of winters back. Traffic was horrific due to flooding caused by recent heavy rains. We couldn’t drive up the Saw Mill River Parkway, and the area around Elmsford was cordoned off because of rising waters. We ended up having to skip all the places we wanted to visit except for where we were at the last outing: a parking lot across the river from Bear Mountain. No bald eagles, though; the extra 120 miles of driving for nothing.
Back to the review. The New York Times review is very positive. The reviewer goes to great lengths to describe Ligeti’s concerto.
Saturday, March 05, 2011
New York Philharmonic – Daniel Harding, conductor; Glenn Dicterow, violin; Lisa Milne, soprano. March 4, 2011.
Avery Fisher Hall at Lincoln Center, First Tier Center (Seat DD103, $65).
Program
Violin Concerto No. 1, Op. 35 (1916) by Szymanowski (1882-1937).
Symphony No. 4 (1892 and 1899-1901, rev. 1901-11) by Mahler (1860-1911).
We bought tickets to a concert with Dicterow as a soloist many years ago; we didn’t go because of a heavy snow storm. The concert still went on, but we couldn’t make it out of the house.
Karol Syzmanowski was a Polish composer influenced greatly by the French. This one-movement, 25-minute long concerto is difficult to pin down. It calls for a large orchestra (two harps, for instance; and several percussion instruments) which didn’t work out too well today because the soloist sounded very weak. Perhaps it’s the seat I was in, but the violin sounded so distant that I thought it had the mute on. Dicterow did manage to show off his technical ability, there was a whole passage of harmonics that he did superbly. His intonation tonight was great; I used to complain quite a bit about his solo passages while acting as the Concertmaster.
Given he doesn’t get to play as a soloist that often, I wonder if the selection of this piece is the wisest. You would think he would want people to walk away thinking “wow, he is a great violinist” rather than scratching their heads. The way it came across was he was doing a very difficult etude and paying a lot of attention to the music (he had the score in front of him).
Before today I had heard Mahler’s 1st and 5th through 9th symphonies. I was glad that I could check another one off the list.
Overall this was a very nice symphony, although I wouldn’t have attributed it to Mahler if I didn’t know. It was not “typical” in its simplicity; neither does it contain many of the meanderings that characterize a Mahler symphony. In one regard it was typical: length. This one is advertised at 58 minutes, and indeed lasted that long. The four movements are (i) Deliberately. Do not hurry; (ii) In easy motion. Without haste; (iii) Serene (Poco Adagio); and (iv) Very leisurely. No allegro or anything of that sort. Every now and then there would be an intense passage, sometimes where you wouldn’t expect them.
Per the Program Notes, the symphony was sketched out by Mahler during the last few days of summer 1899. It must somehow be gestating in his mind as he finished most of it during the following summer at his new cottage at Maiernigg on the south shore of Lake Worthersee. He continued to revised it afterwards, though.
Sheryl Staples had quite a few solo lines that were quite interesting, especially in the second movement. For some reason she brought a second violin with her, and switched from one to the other. One could say one sounded more brilliant than the other, but that doesn’t explain the need for two. I must say it is not easy to switch instruments without having them bump into each other, but she had that worked out well, and the pace of the music wasn’t particularly fast.
The third movement – caused by Mahler’s vision of the deceased at a church cemetery, per Bruno Walter – was indeed quiet and serene.
The fourth movement (relatively short at about 8 minutes) calls for a soprano soloist. Unfortunately the first thing you notice about Milne is her girth; she seems to be four times the size of Maples. Even then, she didn’t sound as strong as expected: adds to my theory there are no good seats in Avery Fisher Hall. The song “The Heavenly Life” starts with “We enjoy the pleasures of Heaven, And therefore avoid earthly ones.” It talks about various saints (Peter, Ursula, Martha, and others) and related activities (e.g., fishing and Peter). Supposedly it should start with simple, childlike joys; I didn’t quite get it, though.
This is also a New York Philharmonic debut for the British conductor Daniel Harding. He appears to be quite young (35 per New York Times), and did a good job with the Mahler. However, he seemed to want to milk to the fullest the last notes of the Mahler symphony: he kept his hands up for what felt like ages. Nonetheless, the symphony didn’t feel long.
Overall, the concert was just okay. The audience felt the same way: most of the applause was polite, not enthusiastic.
Our trip in was a breeze, there was no traffic at all. There was a 30-minute delay getting into the Lincoln tunnel on the way back, though.
The New York Times reviewer went to the opening concert Thursday and had some quibbles with the Mahler performance, attributing the problems to the conductor and the orchestra not knowing each other. I was hoping the reviewer would explain why the Concertmaster used two violins; alas, he didn’t. Another review claims the second violin was tuned a step high.
Program
Violin Concerto No. 1, Op. 35 (1916) by Szymanowski (1882-1937).
Symphony No. 4 (1892 and 1899-1901, rev. 1901-11) by Mahler (1860-1911).
We bought tickets to a concert with Dicterow as a soloist many years ago; we didn’t go because of a heavy snow storm. The concert still went on, but we couldn’t make it out of the house.
Karol Syzmanowski was a Polish composer influenced greatly by the French. This one-movement, 25-minute long concerto is difficult to pin down. It calls for a large orchestra (two harps, for instance; and several percussion instruments) which didn’t work out too well today because the soloist sounded very weak. Perhaps it’s the seat I was in, but the violin sounded so distant that I thought it had the mute on. Dicterow did manage to show off his technical ability, there was a whole passage of harmonics that he did superbly. His intonation tonight was great; I used to complain quite a bit about his solo passages while acting as the Concertmaster.
Given he doesn’t get to play as a soloist that often, I wonder if the selection of this piece is the wisest. You would think he would want people to walk away thinking “wow, he is a great violinist” rather than scratching their heads. The way it came across was he was doing a very difficult etude and paying a lot of attention to the music (he had the score in front of him).
Before today I had heard Mahler’s 1st and 5th through 9th symphonies. I was glad that I could check another one off the list.
Overall this was a very nice symphony, although I wouldn’t have attributed it to Mahler if I didn’t know. It was not “typical” in its simplicity; neither does it contain many of the meanderings that characterize a Mahler symphony. In one regard it was typical: length. This one is advertised at 58 minutes, and indeed lasted that long. The four movements are (i) Deliberately. Do not hurry; (ii) In easy motion. Without haste; (iii) Serene (Poco Adagio); and (iv) Very leisurely. No allegro or anything of that sort. Every now and then there would be an intense passage, sometimes where you wouldn’t expect them.
Per the Program Notes, the symphony was sketched out by Mahler during the last few days of summer 1899. It must somehow be gestating in his mind as he finished most of it during the following summer at his new cottage at Maiernigg on the south shore of Lake Worthersee. He continued to revised it afterwards, though.
Sheryl Staples had quite a few solo lines that were quite interesting, especially in the second movement. For some reason she brought a second violin with her, and switched from one to the other. One could say one sounded more brilliant than the other, but that doesn’t explain the need for two. I must say it is not easy to switch instruments without having them bump into each other, but she had that worked out well, and the pace of the music wasn’t particularly fast.
The third movement – caused by Mahler’s vision of the deceased at a church cemetery, per Bruno Walter – was indeed quiet and serene.
The fourth movement (relatively short at about 8 minutes) calls for a soprano soloist. Unfortunately the first thing you notice about Milne is her girth; she seems to be four times the size of Maples. Even then, she didn’t sound as strong as expected: adds to my theory there are no good seats in Avery Fisher Hall. The song “The Heavenly Life” starts with “We enjoy the pleasures of Heaven, And therefore avoid earthly ones.” It talks about various saints (Peter, Ursula, Martha, and others) and related activities (e.g., fishing and Peter). Supposedly it should start with simple, childlike joys; I didn’t quite get it, though.
This is also a New York Philharmonic debut for the British conductor Daniel Harding. He appears to be quite young (35 per New York Times), and did a good job with the Mahler. However, he seemed to want to milk to the fullest the last notes of the Mahler symphony: he kept his hands up for what felt like ages. Nonetheless, the symphony didn’t feel long.
Overall, the concert was just okay. The audience felt the same way: most of the applause was polite, not enthusiastic.
Our trip in was a breeze, there was no traffic at all. There was a 30-minute delay getting into the Lincoln tunnel on the way back, though.
The New York Times reviewer went to the opening concert Thursday and had some quibbles with the Mahler performance, attributing the problems to the conductor and the orchestra not knowing each other. I was hoping the reviewer would explain why the Concertmaster used two violins; alas, he didn’t. Another review claims the second violin was tuned a step high.
Tuesday, January 25, 2011
The State Ballet Theatre of Russia – Tchaikovsky’s Swan Lake. January 23, 2011.
Matthews Theatre, Princeton, New Jersey – Seat Front Balcony (EE18, $48).
Odette/Odile – Svetlana Noskova, Prince Siegfried – Alexander Lityagin, Rothbart – Ivan Alexeev.
Story. See prior post.
There was no conductor for this performance because the music is taped. The “Russia State Ballet” is actually The Voronezh State Theatre of Opera and Ballet” established in 1961. This is harsh reality running into the hype and consequent expectations.
The performance was sold out, and Anne and I didn’t have adjacent seat (close, though). The theatre is quite small and the staging was as complex as one can reasonably expect. Actually the small stage has an advantage: the effective can be mesmerizing when there are 24 swans on it at the same time – it seems the whole stage is covered with them.
It would be bad form to comment on taped music, nonetheless it sounded quite bad at times. Evidently one doesn’t need a conductor to put out a ballet performance.
Swan Lake is known for the pirouettes expected of Odile. Indeed we counted 33. The court jester didn’t do that badly either, he spun around about 25 times. Anne was looking at some YouTube clips of the ballet and remarked that some troupes do it much better.
I also notice Odette looked serious and sad all the time. At first I thought it was the dancer. But then as Odile she would smile. This is probably one of the contrasts called for by the ballet.
All criticism aside, I don’t mind going to this concert. We stopped by Tiger Noodles for dinner before we came home.
Odette/Odile – Svetlana Noskova, Prince Siegfried – Alexander Lityagin, Rothbart – Ivan Alexeev.
Story. See prior post.
There was no conductor for this performance because the music is taped. The “Russia State Ballet” is actually The Voronezh State Theatre of Opera and Ballet” established in 1961. This is harsh reality running into the hype and consequent expectations.
The performance was sold out, and Anne and I didn’t have adjacent seat (close, though). The theatre is quite small and the staging was as complex as one can reasonably expect. Actually the small stage has an advantage: the effective can be mesmerizing when there are 24 swans on it at the same time – it seems the whole stage is covered with them.
It would be bad form to comment on taped music, nonetheless it sounded quite bad at times. Evidently one doesn’t need a conductor to put out a ballet performance.
Swan Lake is known for the pirouettes expected of Odile. Indeed we counted 33. The court jester didn’t do that badly either, he spun around about 25 times. Anne was looking at some YouTube clips of the ballet and remarked that some troupes do it much better.
I also notice Odette looked serious and sad all the time. At first I thought it was the dancer. But then as Odile she would smile. This is probably one of the contrasts called for by the ballet.
All criticism aside, I don’t mind going to this concert. We stopped by Tiger Noodles for dinner before we came home.
New York Philharmonic – Christoph von Dohnanyi, conductor; Radu Lupu, piano. January 23, 2011.
Avery Fisher Hall at Lincoln Center, Orchestra 1 (Seat W5, $65).
Program
Concerto No. 1 in D minor for Piano and Orchestra, Op. 83 (1858) by Brahms (1833-97).
Symphony No. 8 in G major, Op. 88 (1889) by Dvorak (1841-1904).
We attended this concert together with the Yangs. We drove into New York early so we could go to the boat show at Jacob Javits Center, where we spent about 90 minutes. There were many more people than expected: perhaps to get in from the cold (we have had a long cold spell in the area) or – dare one hope – the economy is turning around? In any case, we didn’t hear the bell ring once to indicate a sale, although there were a few boats with a sign “sold” attached to it. We had a simple dinner at Ollie’s before the concert.
My expectations were quite high after last week’s concert. Brahms’ first piano concerto was written about 20 years before his second, and the two have a great contrast in style. Radu Lupu is also a well-known pianist. We have heard him a few times and enjoyed his performances very much.
Given the high expectations, we were a bit disappointed at the overall concert. In general things seemed to be sloppier, muddled at times. Our seats were not that far away from the ones we had last week, but the piano didn’t sound nearly as crisp as it did then. The Symphony was okay, but I certainly won’t call it a great performance.
The Yangs sat in the second row and they were telling us how much Lupu and von Dohnanyi seemed to communicate with one another. Lupu used a chair which I don’t recall his using in prior performances: back problem, maybe? Also, Glen Dicterow showed up for the Symphony; he didn’t play at all last week.
The New York Times review is positive, but not as effusive as the one for last week. Per the reviewer, Lupu uses a chair all the time.
Program
Concerto No. 1 in D minor for Piano and Orchestra, Op. 83 (1858) by Brahms (1833-97).
Symphony No. 8 in G major, Op. 88 (1889) by Dvorak (1841-1904).
We attended this concert together with the Yangs. We drove into New York early so we could go to the boat show at Jacob Javits Center, where we spent about 90 minutes. There were many more people than expected: perhaps to get in from the cold (we have had a long cold spell in the area) or – dare one hope – the economy is turning around? In any case, we didn’t hear the bell ring once to indicate a sale, although there were a few boats with a sign “sold” attached to it. We had a simple dinner at Ollie’s before the concert.
My expectations were quite high after last week’s concert. Brahms’ first piano concerto was written about 20 years before his second, and the two have a great contrast in style. Radu Lupu is also a well-known pianist. We have heard him a few times and enjoyed his performances very much.
Given the high expectations, we were a bit disappointed at the overall concert. In general things seemed to be sloppier, muddled at times. Our seats were not that far away from the ones we had last week, but the piano didn’t sound nearly as crisp as it did then. The Symphony was okay, but I certainly won’t call it a great performance.
The Yangs sat in the second row and they were telling us how much Lupu and von Dohnanyi seemed to communicate with one another. Lupu used a chair which I don’t recall his using in prior performances: back problem, maybe? Also, Glen Dicterow showed up for the Symphony; he didn’t play at all last week.
The New York Times review is positive, but not as effusive as the one for last week. Per the reviewer, Lupu uses a chair all the time.
Monday, January 17, 2011
New York Philharmonic – Christoph von Dohnanyi, conductor; Yefim Bronfman, piano. January 16, 2011.
Avery Fisher Hall at Lincoln Center, Orchestra 1 (Seat S101, $65).
Program
Con brio, Concert Overture for Orchestra (2008) by Jorg Widman (b. 1973).
Symphony No. 4 in D minor, Op. 120 (1841/1851) by Schumann (1810-1856).
Concerto No. 2 in B-flat major for Piano and Orchestra, Op. 83 (1878-81) by Brahms (1833-97).
This was our first concert for 2011, and I was kind of looking forward to it. The headline performers were certainly impressive enough: von Dohnanyi conducting, and Bronfman at the piano. It did not disappoint.
The first piece was written by a 37-year old German composer and clarinetist. The title “con brio” was definitely a tribute to Beethoven, and the program notes talk about how one could hear references to Beethoven’s various works, including several of his symphonies. However, “referring to” does not equate to “in the style of”, and the way the different instruments of the orchestra is used is definitely different than how Beethoven did it. I found the piece mildly interesting but ultimately disappointing. Trying to discern the references is the musical version of “where’s Waldo” and I didn’t care for that pictorial game very much either. There was a distinct Lenore Overture reference that I could hear, though.
The Schumann symphony was first composed in 1841, withdrawn, reworked, and republished about ten years later. These ten years turned out to be Schumann’s product symphony composition years. If there are problems with the orchestration, I couldn’t tell. The four movements are (i) Fairly slow – Lively; (ii) Romance: Fairly slow; (iii) Scherzo: Lively; and (iv) Slow – Lively – Faster – Presto. Even though it was supposed to be played without pause, the transitions were distinct enough that there was no doubt where they were. I wasn’t very familiar with the first two movements, but was very familiar with the last two. I don’t have the music in my collection, so it had to be listening to it over the radio over the years. Schumann seems to reuse his material a lot, but the overall music is simple yet delightful. The Concertmaster (Maples) had a good time playing the solo line (third movement). The line was not difficult, but she made a great sound.
We have seen Bronfman a few times; most recently at Princeton where he and Zukerman had a recital. This piece by Brahms certainly would be technically very difficult compared to the various sonatas he played at that recital. Somehow I misread the Program Notes and thought we were going to hear the first concerto. My confusion soon gave way to enjoyment of the initial calm passage. The four movements of the concerto are (i) Allegro non troppo; (ii) Allegro appassionato; (iii) Andante; and (iv) Allegretto grazioso. It is relatively long at about 50 minutes. In any case, we will be listening to the first concerto this coming Saturday, with Lupu playing.
To call Bronfman overweight is an understatement (someone has to say it), yet he is quite athletic in his movements. The playing was great, although he seemed to pound on the piano a bit more than necessary. The relatively short third movement has the solo cello playing most of the melody, often in the higher registers. I am amazed how accurate Carter Brey’s pitch was, but a bit disappointed at the sound of his instrument. Perhaps my misgivings about the sounds are due to our seat (Row S)? The audience couldn’t help themselves: they applauded after the first movement. This crowd does it quite often, and I am okay with it. Bronfman probably decided he would humor us by standing up and taking a slight bow, all in good fun. He did it again after the second movement. Good thing everyone decided not to play to game afterwards.
I was kind of hoping for an encore, but it wasn’t to be.
Anne had to go to Flushing in the morning and we met up at around 6 pm. I decided to drive in. The traffic was so light that it took less than an hour in either direction (about 50 minutes coming back). I guess this is the post-holiday quiet period.
The New York Times reviewer loved the concert.
Program
Con brio, Concert Overture for Orchestra (2008) by Jorg Widman (b. 1973).
Symphony No. 4 in D minor, Op. 120 (1841/1851) by Schumann (1810-1856).
Concerto No. 2 in B-flat major for Piano and Orchestra, Op. 83 (1878-81) by Brahms (1833-97).
This was our first concert for 2011, and I was kind of looking forward to it. The headline performers were certainly impressive enough: von Dohnanyi conducting, and Bronfman at the piano. It did not disappoint.
The first piece was written by a 37-year old German composer and clarinetist. The title “con brio” was definitely a tribute to Beethoven, and the program notes talk about how one could hear references to Beethoven’s various works, including several of his symphonies. However, “referring to” does not equate to “in the style of”, and the way the different instruments of the orchestra is used is definitely different than how Beethoven did it. I found the piece mildly interesting but ultimately disappointing. Trying to discern the references is the musical version of “where’s Waldo” and I didn’t care for that pictorial game very much either. There was a distinct Lenore Overture reference that I could hear, though.
The Schumann symphony was first composed in 1841, withdrawn, reworked, and republished about ten years later. These ten years turned out to be Schumann’s product symphony composition years. If there are problems with the orchestration, I couldn’t tell. The four movements are (i) Fairly slow – Lively; (ii) Romance: Fairly slow; (iii) Scherzo: Lively; and (iv) Slow – Lively – Faster – Presto. Even though it was supposed to be played without pause, the transitions were distinct enough that there was no doubt where they were. I wasn’t very familiar with the first two movements, but was very familiar with the last two. I don’t have the music in my collection, so it had to be listening to it over the radio over the years. Schumann seems to reuse his material a lot, but the overall music is simple yet delightful. The Concertmaster (Maples) had a good time playing the solo line (third movement). The line was not difficult, but she made a great sound.
We have seen Bronfman a few times; most recently at Princeton where he and Zukerman had a recital. This piece by Brahms certainly would be technically very difficult compared to the various sonatas he played at that recital. Somehow I misread the Program Notes and thought we were going to hear the first concerto. My confusion soon gave way to enjoyment of the initial calm passage. The four movements of the concerto are (i) Allegro non troppo; (ii) Allegro appassionato; (iii) Andante; and (iv) Allegretto grazioso. It is relatively long at about 50 minutes. In any case, we will be listening to the first concerto this coming Saturday, with Lupu playing.
To call Bronfman overweight is an understatement (someone has to say it), yet he is quite athletic in his movements. The playing was great, although he seemed to pound on the piano a bit more than necessary. The relatively short third movement has the solo cello playing most of the melody, often in the higher registers. I am amazed how accurate Carter Brey’s pitch was, but a bit disappointed at the sound of his instrument. Perhaps my misgivings about the sounds are due to our seat (Row S)? The audience couldn’t help themselves: they applauded after the first movement. This crowd does it quite often, and I am okay with it. Bronfman probably decided he would humor us by standing up and taking a slight bow, all in good fun. He did it again after the second movement. Good thing everyone decided not to play to game afterwards.
I was kind of hoping for an encore, but it wasn’t to be.
Anne had to go to Flushing in the morning and we met up at around 6 pm. I decided to drive in. The traffic was so light that it took less than an hour in either direction (about 50 minutes coming back). I guess this is the post-holiday quiet period.
The New York Times reviewer loved the concert.
Wednesday, December 08, 2010
New York Philharmonic – Sir Colin Davis, Conductor. December 7, 2010.
Avery Fisher Hall at Lincoln Center, First Tier Center (Seat CC108, $65).
Program
Symphony No. 2 in D major, Op. 36 (1801-1802) by Beethoven (1770-1827).
Adagio molto – Allegro con brio
Larghetto
Scherzo (Allegro)
Allegro molto
Twelve Songs from Des Knaben Wunderhorn (The Boy’s Magic Horn; 1892-1901) by Mahler (1860-1911)
The Sentinel’s Nightsong (1892)
St. Anthony of Padua’s Sermon to the Fishes (1893)
The Earthly Life (1892-93)
Solace in Misfortune (1892)
Song of the Persecuted in the Tower (1898)
Who Thought Up This Little Song? (1892)
Reveille (1899)
Little Rhine Legend (1893)
Praise from an Advanced Intellect (1896)
Labor Lost (1892)
The Drummer Boy (1901)
Where the Fair Trumpets Sound (1898)
Dorothea Roschmann, Soprano
Ian Bostridge, Tenor
There were still tickets available during the morning of the concert, so I was glad to see the auditorium reasonably filled when the program began (about 85% I’d say). It has been unusually cold these last few days, luckily we didn’t have to go outside to get to Avery Fisher Hall once we got on the train in South Amboy. The walk from the subway station to Avery Fisher is not air-conditioned, and it felt cold. Dinner was a quick bite at McDonald’s at Penn Station.
The Beethoven symphony was premiered together with the first, and sounded very early-Beethoven (stating the obvious here), with the exception of the last movement. It is not heard very often, although parts of it sounded familiar. Davis at 80+ had a good standing posture and conducted with visible energy, however, I found most of the movement not “con brio” enough. A reduced-size orchestra was used, perhaps to more conform with the practice of the period. The last movement was generally delightful, the orchestra sounded a bit rushed at times, though.
The poems of The Boy’s Magic Horn were written by Clemens Bretano and Achim von Arnim. Mahler incorporated some of the poems in his symphonies, and set some others to songs. The title gives no indication of what the individual poems are like; turns out some are comedic, some macabre, and some sad. Most of them are close to being tonal, quite easy to enjoy – not so easy to pick up, though.
The tenor has an interesting background: he was doing post-doctoral work in history when he decided to become a singer. Unfortunately, having a great intellect does not automatically make a singer great. He was simply overwhelmed by the orchestra and didn’t come through at all. It would work out better during periods the orchestra played softly, but I still had to strain to listen to him. The soprano’s voice projected much better.
I also noticed that Thomas Stacy's name is no longer on the orchestra's roster. A search of the web indicated that he retired as the orchestra's English Horn player in October. I find the situation curious, what with Qiang Tu vacating his endowed chair, the orchestra seems to be going through some changes.
The New York Times review is very much like mine, albeit written more professionally.
Program
Symphony No. 2 in D major, Op. 36 (1801-1802) by Beethoven (1770-1827).
Adagio molto – Allegro con brio
Larghetto
Scherzo (Allegro)
Allegro molto
Twelve Songs from Des Knaben Wunderhorn (The Boy’s Magic Horn; 1892-1901) by Mahler (1860-1911)
The Sentinel’s Nightsong (1892)
St. Anthony of Padua’s Sermon to the Fishes (1893)
The Earthly Life (1892-93)
Solace in Misfortune (1892)
Song of the Persecuted in the Tower (1898)
Who Thought Up This Little Song? (1892)
Reveille (1899)
Little Rhine Legend (1893)
Praise from an Advanced Intellect (1896)
Labor Lost (1892)
The Drummer Boy (1901)
Where the Fair Trumpets Sound (1898)
Dorothea Roschmann, Soprano
Ian Bostridge, Tenor
There were still tickets available during the morning of the concert, so I was glad to see the auditorium reasonably filled when the program began (about 85% I’d say). It has been unusually cold these last few days, luckily we didn’t have to go outside to get to Avery Fisher Hall once we got on the train in South Amboy. The walk from the subway station to Avery Fisher is not air-conditioned, and it felt cold. Dinner was a quick bite at McDonald’s at Penn Station.
The Beethoven symphony was premiered together with the first, and sounded very early-Beethoven (stating the obvious here), with the exception of the last movement. It is not heard very often, although parts of it sounded familiar. Davis at 80+ had a good standing posture and conducted with visible energy, however, I found most of the movement not “con brio” enough. A reduced-size orchestra was used, perhaps to more conform with the practice of the period. The last movement was generally delightful, the orchestra sounded a bit rushed at times, though.
The poems of The Boy’s Magic Horn were written by Clemens Bretano and Achim von Arnim. Mahler incorporated some of the poems in his symphonies, and set some others to songs. The title gives no indication of what the individual poems are like; turns out some are comedic, some macabre, and some sad. Most of them are close to being tonal, quite easy to enjoy – not so easy to pick up, though.
The tenor has an interesting background: he was doing post-doctoral work in history when he decided to become a singer. Unfortunately, having a great intellect does not automatically make a singer great. He was simply overwhelmed by the orchestra and didn’t come through at all. It would work out better during periods the orchestra played softly, but I still had to strain to listen to him. The soprano’s voice projected much better.
I also noticed that Thomas Stacy's name is no longer on the orchestra's roster. A search of the web indicated that he retired as the orchestra's English Horn player in October. I find the situation curious, what with Qiang Tu vacating his endowed chair, the orchestra seems to be going through some changes.
The New York Times review is very much like mine, albeit written more professionally.
Tuesday, November 16, 2010
Joint Recital – Pinchas Zukerman, Violin; Yefim Bronfman, Piano. November 15, 2010.
Matthews Theatre at McCarter Theatre Center, Princeton University (Front Balcony, Seat AA104, $58).
Program
Sonata for Violin & Piano in B-flat Major, K. 454 by Mozart (1756-1791)
Sonata No. 5 in F major, Op. 24 (“Spring”) by Beethoven (1770-1827)
Sonata in E-flat major for Viola and Piano, Op. 120, No. 2 by Brahms (1822-1897)
I am not a big fan of recitals, even though the violin is the instrument I play. To me recitals (and to a great extent chamber concerts) are too “simple;” they lack the more complex coordination required with a larger group. On the other hand, recitals are occasions the listener can simply sit back and enjoy without taxing one’s faculties. Tonight’s concert falls neatly into that category.
We got to Princeton at around 7 pm, enough time to have a couple of noodle dishes at Tiger Noodles. Anne wanted a spring roll also, which I thought would cut things a bit close. We made it to the Theatre in good time, though. The hall is quite nice, although our seats did not have that much leg room, being set against the “bulkhead.”
The violin sonatas are familiar to any violin student. Technically they are not demanding, and Zukerman certainly played well. Up close, his violin didn’t sound as smooth as I expected. On the other hand, he played with great confidence and authority. With Mozart and Beethoven violin sonatas, the pianist gets the bulk of the work out. Bronfman tackled the part with ease, but his part was played too softly for my taste. Also, the two musicians were too close to each other, with Zukerman standing in front of Bronfman. We were on the center right part of the theatre, and had a reasonable view, but I am sure people on the left of the theatre had their view of Bronfman blocked.
Interesting fact about the Mozart piece: Mozart was playing the piano with a lady playing the violin (usually the woman plays the piano.) Also, the score wasn’t ready yet so Mozart had blank sheets in front of him during the performance. Afterwards, Emperor Joseph II - who was in the audience - asked (playfully) to see the music.
The viola sonata sounded much more balanced in comparison. Perhaps it’s the natural timbre of the instrument that makes the sound less “shrill.” And the lower pitch of the viola certainly helped. As the Program Notes indicates, the virtuoso part of the relatively short piece.
The three movements of the Mazart sonata are Largo – Allegro, Andante, and Allegretto. Beethoven’s sonata has four (i) Allegro; (ii) Adagio molto espressivo; (iii) Scherzo: Allegro molto; and (iv) Rondo: Allegro ma non troppo. Brahms’s has three: (i) Allegro amabile; (ii) Allegro appassionato; and (iii) Andante con moto; Allegro.
This time Zukerman played a real encore – a piece by Schumann. It is rather simple, but as with the rest of the program, quite delightful.
Program
Sonata for Violin & Piano in B-flat Major, K. 454 by Mozart (1756-1791)
Sonata No. 5 in F major, Op. 24 (“Spring”) by Beethoven (1770-1827)
Sonata in E-flat major for Viola and Piano, Op. 120, No. 2 by Brahms (1822-1897)
I am not a big fan of recitals, even though the violin is the instrument I play. To me recitals (and to a great extent chamber concerts) are too “simple;” they lack the more complex coordination required with a larger group. On the other hand, recitals are occasions the listener can simply sit back and enjoy without taxing one’s faculties. Tonight’s concert falls neatly into that category.
We got to Princeton at around 7 pm, enough time to have a couple of noodle dishes at Tiger Noodles. Anne wanted a spring roll also, which I thought would cut things a bit close. We made it to the Theatre in good time, though. The hall is quite nice, although our seats did not have that much leg room, being set against the “bulkhead.”
The violin sonatas are familiar to any violin student. Technically they are not demanding, and Zukerman certainly played well. Up close, his violin didn’t sound as smooth as I expected. On the other hand, he played with great confidence and authority. With Mozart and Beethoven violin sonatas, the pianist gets the bulk of the work out. Bronfman tackled the part with ease, but his part was played too softly for my taste. Also, the two musicians were too close to each other, with Zukerman standing in front of Bronfman. We were on the center right part of the theatre, and had a reasonable view, but I am sure people on the left of the theatre had their view of Bronfman blocked.
Interesting fact about the Mozart piece: Mozart was playing the piano with a lady playing the violin (usually the woman plays the piano.) Also, the score wasn’t ready yet so Mozart had blank sheets in front of him during the performance. Afterwards, Emperor Joseph II - who was in the audience - asked (playfully) to see the music.
The viola sonata sounded much more balanced in comparison. Perhaps it’s the natural timbre of the instrument that makes the sound less “shrill.” And the lower pitch of the viola certainly helped. As the Program Notes indicates, the virtuoso part of the relatively short piece.
The three movements of the Mazart sonata are Largo – Allegro, Andante, and Allegretto. Beethoven’s sonata has four (i) Allegro; (ii) Adagio molto espressivo; (iii) Scherzo: Allegro molto; and (iv) Rondo: Allegro ma non troppo. Brahms’s has three: (i) Allegro amabile; (ii) Allegro appassionato; and (iii) Andante con moto; Allegro.
This time Zukerman played a real encore – a piece by Schumann. It is rather simple, but as with the rest of the program, quite delightful.
Saturday, November 13, 2010
New York Philharmonic – Mendelssohn’s Elijah; Alan Gilbert, Conductor. November 11, 2010.
Avery Fisher Hall at Lincoln Center, First Tier Center (Seat DD113, $62.5)
Program
Elijah, Oratorio on Words of the Old Testament, Op. 70 (1845-46, rev. 1847) by Mendelssohn (1809-47)
Artists
Twyla Robinson, Soprano; Alice Coote, Mezzo-Soprano; Allan Clayton, Tenor; Gerald Finley, Bass-Baritone; Jennifer Johnson, Mezzo-Soprano; Noah Sadik, Boy Soprano
New York Choral Artists, Joseph Flummerfelt, Director
Because of schedule conflicts, we moved our date of the concert from Saturday (trip to New Hampshire) to Wednesday (Anne’s class) to Thursday, which we finally made. I am glad we went. There were quite a few empty seats in the auditorium, and WQXR and Goldstar were both advertizing seats (1/2 off for the latter) throughout the week.
The story is quite simple, describing how Elijah helped a widow, fought with King Ahab and Queen Jezebel, hid in a cave and waited for God, and was finally taken up to heaven in a chariot. Most of the material was taken from I Kings, but Mendelssohn also used quite a few quotes from other books of the Old Testament – especially Psalm – and a couple from the New Testament. I am sure the story can be told equally compellingly by using I Kings only; but let’s not quibble.
From where we sat (we moved after the intermission to be closer to the exit) the sound was quite good. Oftentimes I find a singer difficult to hear because of the acoustics, but didn’t have much trouble this time. The singers all did okay, but not spectacular. Finley as Elijah had a relatively demanding role, and it showed when he sang the aria “Is not His word like a fire.” He seemed to recover after the intermission, though. It must be thrilling for a nine-year old boy to have billing in a New York Philharmonic Concert, and it is understandable that his voice was a bit unsteady. A contralto from the chorus also had a solo and quartet part, but her name isn’t mentioned in the program. Coote as the widow and Jezebel did the best.
I found the oratorio quite captivating even though the story of Elijah is a familiar one. This work has been compared with Messiah by Handel in style. Certainly true in the sense of narratives, recitatives, arias, and choruses. The Program Notes says the aria “Is not His word like a fire” (the one Finley somewhat botched) mimics Messiah’s “But Who May Abide.” Alas, I didn’t hear the parallel. Also, there are very few stand-alone melodies in this piece compared to Messiah. I was wondering if there were any until the second half: the first was the Trio “Lift thine eyes”, and the second was the solo “O rest in the Lord.” It was actually sung by Helen at our wedding! Of course when we picked the song we had no idea of the context in which it was written.
The New York Choral Artists, numbering about 60 people, did admirably. We left right after the conclusion of the concert and didn’t get to see Flummerfelt take his bow. Nonetheless we missed the train, which was okay as Anne had to take a conference call at 10:30 pm anyway.
The libretto in the original version was put together by Mendelssohn himself. For the English translation he asked for help (from William Bartholomew). The translation is so good that it is one of the best sounding English vocal compositions I have heard.
One final interesting fact from the Program Notes. Mendelssohn’s other oratorio St. Paul is “in the style” of Bach’s St. Matthew’s Passion. One of those days I shall listen to those and compare. Also, I wonder how well this would work if it is staged as an opera.
The New York Times Review is surprising negative. It recalls how Mitropoulos did this in a semi-staged manner, and generally pans the singers (with a couple of exceptions.)
Program
Elijah, Oratorio on Words of the Old Testament, Op. 70 (1845-46, rev. 1847) by Mendelssohn (1809-47)
Artists
Twyla Robinson, Soprano; Alice Coote, Mezzo-Soprano; Allan Clayton, Tenor; Gerald Finley, Bass-Baritone; Jennifer Johnson, Mezzo-Soprano; Noah Sadik, Boy Soprano
New York Choral Artists, Joseph Flummerfelt, Director
Because of schedule conflicts, we moved our date of the concert from Saturday (trip to New Hampshire) to Wednesday (Anne’s class) to Thursday, which we finally made. I am glad we went. There were quite a few empty seats in the auditorium, and WQXR and Goldstar were both advertizing seats (1/2 off for the latter) throughout the week.
The story is quite simple, describing how Elijah helped a widow, fought with King Ahab and Queen Jezebel, hid in a cave and waited for God, and was finally taken up to heaven in a chariot. Most of the material was taken from I Kings, but Mendelssohn also used quite a few quotes from other books of the Old Testament – especially Psalm – and a couple from the New Testament. I am sure the story can be told equally compellingly by using I Kings only; but let’s not quibble.
From where we sat (we moved after the intermission to be closer to the exit) the sound was quite good. Oftentimes I find a singer difficult to hear because of the acoustics, but didn’t have much trouble this time. The singers all did okay, but not spectacular. Finley as Elijah had a relatively demanding role, and it showed when he sang the aria “Is not His word like a fire.” He seemed to recover after the intermission, though. It must be thrilling for a nine-year old boy to have billing in a New York Philharmonic Concert, and it is understandable that his voice was a bit unsteady. A contralto from the chorus also had a solo and quartet part, but her name isn’t mentioned in the program. Coote as the widow and Jezebel did the best.
I found the oratorio quite captivating even though the story of Elijah is a familiar one. This work has been compared with Messiah by Handel in style. Certainly true in the sense of narratives, recitatives, arias, and choruses. The Program Notes says the aria “Is not His word like a fire” (the one Finley somewhat botched) mimics Messiah’s “But Who May Abide.” Alas, I didn’t hear the parallel. Also, there are very few stand-alone melodies in this piece compared to Messiah. I was wondering if there were any until the second half: the first was the Trio “Lift thine eyes”, and the second was the solo “O rest in the Lord.” It was actually sung by Helen at our wedding! Of course when we picked the song we had no idea of the context in which it was written.
The New York Choral Artists, numbering about 60 people, did admirably. We left right after the conclusion of the concert and didn’t get to see Flummerfelt take his bow. Nonetheless we missed the train, which was okay as Anne had to take a conference call at 10:30 pm anyway.
The libretto in the original version was put together by Mendelssohn himself. For the English translation he asked for help (from William Bartholomew). The translation is so good that it is one of the best sounding English vocal compositions I have heard.
One final interesting fact from the Program Notes. Mendelssohn’s other oratorio St. Paul is “in the style” of Bach’s St. Matthew’s Passion. One of those days I shall listen to those and compare. Also, I wonder how well this would work if it is staged as an opera.
The New York Times Review is surprising negative. It recalls how Mitropoulos did this in a semi-staged manner, and generally pans the singers (with a couple of exceptions.)
Friday, October 29, 2010
Hong Kong Philharmonic Orchestra – Edo de Waart, conductor; Chen Sa, piano. October 29, 2010.
Hong Kong City Hall Concert Hall, Front Stalls (Seat L27, HK$320).
Program – All Schumann (1810-1856)
Manfred: Overture, Op. 115
Piano Concerto in A minor, Op. 54
Symphony No. 4 in D minor, Op. 120 (First Version 1841)
We went with the Laws to this concert. We had dinner at the City Hall Restaurant (run by Maxim); surprisingly inexpensive, and surprisingly bland.
I am still amazed at how small the City Hall Concert Hall is, it has about 30 rows in the main section. The seats are reasonably comfortable though.
Hong Kong was called a “cultural desert” when I was growing up, by the number of empty seats in the hall today (by my estimation nearly 25% of seats were empty) the name still applies. This program will be repeated on Saturday, let’s hope the weekend brings in more people.
Overall this is a satisfying concert. I am not a fan of Schumann, and am not familiar with his music. It is generally quite romantic in sound, and the proximity of our seats to the stage made it sound quite intimate also.
The piano concerto begins with a soft introduction by the clarinet (or was it the oboe, I don’t remember). It was so tentative that I thought it was a cell phone ringing. The theme sounded very familiar, and most of the time the interplay between the soloist and the orchestra was good. Every now and then they seemed to be off doing their own thing, though. The three movements are (i) Allegro affettuoso; (ii) Intermezzo (Andantino grazioso); and (iii) Allegro vivace. The Program kept saying this concerto isn't a virtuoso piece, but it sounded virtuoso enough.
The pianist is from China, has taken fourth place in many competitions, and has played with many well-known orchestras (mostly in the US). She played a very romantic piece by Schumann while he was courting Clara. (From what I could tell.)
The Symphony was relatively short at an advertised 26 minutes (I think it was shorter than that.) The four movements are (i) Andante con moto; (ii) Romanza (Andante); (iii) Scherzo (Presto) – Trio; and (iv) Finale (Allegro vivace). They were played without pause. The first three movements were relatively short, and the last longer than expected. It was generally performed with spirit, although the fast passages sometimes felt a little rushed.
Generally a pleasant concert. Anne had trouble with her jet lag and busy few days, even the candy bought during intermission didn’t help her to stay fully awake.
We caught the #75 bus right next to City Hall back to the hotel; it didn’t take long at all.
Program – All Schumann (1810-1856)
Manfred: Overture, Op. 115
Piano Concerto in A minor, Op. 54
Symphony No. 4 in D minor, Op. 120 (First Version 1841)
We went with the Laws to this concert. We had dinner at the City Hall Restaurant (run by Maxim); surprisingly inexpensive, and surprisingly bland.
I am still amazed at how small the City Hall Concert Hall is, it has about 30 rows in the main section. The seats are reasonably comfortable though.
Hong Kong was called a “cultural desert” when I was growing up, by the number of empty seats in the hall today (by my estimation nearly 25% of seats were empty) the name still applies. This program will be repeated on Saturday, let’s hope the weekend brings in more people.
Overall this is a satisfying concert. I am not a fan of Schumann, and am not familiar with his music. It is generally quite romantic in sound, and the proximity of our seats to the stage made it sound quite intimate also.
The piano concerto begins with a soft introduction by the clarinet (or was it the oboe, I don’t remember). It was so tentative that I thought it was a cell phone ringing. The theme sounded very familiar, and most of the time the interplay between the soloist and the orchestra was good. Every now and then they seemed to be off doing their own thing, though. The three movements are (i) Allegro affettuoso; (ii) Intermezzo (Andantino grazioso); and (iii) Allegro vivace. The Program kept saying this concerto isn't a virtuoso piece, but it sounded virtuoso enough.
The pianist is from China, has taken fourth place in many competitions, and has played with many well-known orchestras (mostly in the US). She played a very romantic piece by Schumann while he was courting Clara. (From what I could tell.)
The Symphony was relatively short at an advertised 26 minutes (I think it was shorter than that.) The four movements are (i) Andante con moto; (ii) Romanza (Andante); (iii) Scherzo (Presto) – Trio; and (iv) Finale (Allegro vivace). They were played without pause. The first three movements were relatively short, and the last longer than expected. It was generally performed with spirit, although the fast passages sometimes felt a little rushed.
Generally a pleasant concert. Anne had trouble with her jet lag and busy few days, even the candy bought during intermission didn’t help her to stay fully awake.
We caught the #75 bus right next to City Hall back to the hotel; it didn’t take long at all.
Sunday, October 17, 2010
New York Philharmonic – Alan Gilbert, conductor; Pinchas Zukerman, violin. October 16, 2010.
Avery Fisher Hall at Lincoln Center. Orchestra 3 Center (Seat HH103, $60).
Program
Passacaglia, Op. 1 (1908) by Webern (1883-1945).
Concerto in D manor for Violin and Orchestra, Op. 77 (1878-79) by Brhams (1833-97)
Symphony No. 4 in E minor, Op. 98 (1884-85) by Brahms.
It was interesting (to me) how I got to go to this concert. Anne and I had booked tickets to this as part of a “pick your own” series, but we exchanged the tickets for another concert since Anne was going to go to Los Angeles. I didn’t note down – and thus forgot – that the Yangs also had tickets to this event but was reminded that morning. Since I was looking for something to do, I decided to head up to NYC in the early afternoon to see if reasonably priced tickets were available. (A bit foolhardy on my part since there were only about 50 left that morning per nyphil.org.) When I got to Lincoln Center, I found out only tickets in the $100 and higher range were available, and I didn’t feel like paying that much. I decided to wait for the Yangs - did quite a bit of reading in the Rubinstein Atrium, had dinner with them (at Ollie’s), and then see if anyone was selling tickets at the last minute. Surprisingly, not too many. At about 7:40pm this gentleman offered two tickets for sale, he would part with one for $75, but accepted my offer of $60. The seat is quite good, and the ticket price says 0 (probably a comp). Turns out he sold the other one for $40; oh well …
Webern was Schoenberg’s other famous student and an important member of the Second Viennese School. Anne and I heard Berg’s Lyric Suite selections a few days ago, played by the Orpheus Chamber Orchestra and I found it okay but not memorable. This particular composition by Webern (his Op. 1) was composed while he was still a student, and follows the “passacaglia” format (per Gilbert, a baroque musical form with a bass-line theme spun into different variations.) For the Webern piece there are 23 variations plus a coda. While I found the theme in and of itself rather uninspiring, at least I could follow (most of) the variations. In this instance Webern is more tonal than Berg, though not by much.
Zukerman was a major reason why I wanted to go to this concert. Overall it was a good performance, but not quite up to my expectations. At first there was this broken bow hair that seemed to bother Zukerman quite a bit, and the initial violin part was quite long so he couldn’t yank it out for a while. But he had quite a bit of intonation problem; could it be playing both the violin and the viola can cause some “muscle memory” problems? And the violin sounded out of tune (indeed he tuned it again after the first movement.) Most puzzling was the orchestra (especially the brass and woodwind) seemed to be tuned to a different pitch. Perhaps my hearing is deteriorating, in which case I shouldn’t be able to tell.
One pleasant surprise was I could distinctly hear the violin part for most of the performance. Perhaps it was the location of my seat, or it was the solo violin. The violin Zukerman plays is a Guarnerius and has a timbre very different from a Stradivarius. Warm and full rather than brilliant and soaring, usually considered more suitable for chamber music but worked very well in this instance.
After the undeserved multiple curtain calls evinced by the enthusiastic audience, Zukerman began playing Brahm’s Lullaby. One kept hoping he would launch into some virtuoso variations on the theme, but it was not to be; he just humored us with the good tone of his instrument and didn’t bother to complete the piece. I found that somewhat disrespectful on his part.
The Brahms Symphony is a familiar one. The beginning melody (descending thirds followed by ascending fifths) is relatively unremarkable as a tune but Brahms somehow managed to mold it into a very interesting movement. Interestingly I am very familiar with the first three movements (Allegro non troppo, Andante moderato, Allegro giocoso) but not so much with the fourth (Allegro energico e passionate – Piu allegro). The last movement is also in passacaglia form although the 32 variations are much richer than Webern’s. Perhaps it is to be expected given the different stages and maturity levels of the two composers? Gilbert was quite expressive in terms of forming the phrases, and in most instances he was successful.
So far this season my experience with the New York Philharmonic by and large has not been exhilarating; let’s hope it improves with additional attendance. The New York Times Review describes Zukerman’s performance as “you never know quite what you will get.”
Program
Passacaglia, Op. 1 (1908) by Webern (1883-1945).
Concerto in D manor for Violin and Orchestra, Op. 77 (1878-79) by Brhams (1833-97)
Symphony No. 4 in E minor, Op. 98 (1884-85) by Brahms.
It was interesting (to me) how I got to go to this concert. Anne and I had booked tickets to this as part of a “pick your own” series, but we exchanged the tickets for another concert since Anne was going to go to Los Angeles. I didn’t note down – and thus forgot – that the Yangs also had tickets to this event but was reminded that morning. Since I was looking for something to do, I decided to head up to NYC in the early afternoon to see if reasonably priced tickets were available. (A bit foolhardy on my part since there were only about 50 left that morning per nyphil.org.) When I got to Lincoln Center, I found out only tickets in the $100 and higher range were available, and I didn’t feel like paying that much. I decided to wait for the Yangs - did quite a bit of reading in the Rubinstein Atrium, had dinner with them (at Ollie’s), and then see if anyone was selling tickets at the last minute. Surprisingly, not too many. At about 7:40pm this gentleman offered two tickets for sale, he would part with one for $75, but accepted my offer of $60. The seat is quite good, and the ticket price says 0 (probably a comp). Turns out he sold the other one for $40; oh well …
Webern was Schoenberg’s other famous student and an important member of the Second Viennese School. Anne and I heard Berg’s Lyric Suite selections a few days ago, played by the Orpheus Chamber Orchestra and I found it okay but not memorable. This particular composition by Webern (his Op. 1) was composed while he was still a student, and follows the “passacaglia” format (per Gilbert, a baroque musical form with a bass-line theme spun into different variations.) For the Webern piece there are 23 variations plus a coda. While I found the theme in and of itself rather uninspiring, at least I could follow (most of) the variations. In this instance Webern is more tonal than Berg, though not by much.
Zukerman was a major reason why I wanted to go to this concert. Overall it was a good performance, but not quite up to my expectations. At first there was this broken bow hair that seemed to bother Zukerman quite a bit, and the initial violin part was quite long so he couldn’t yank it out for a while. But he had quite a bit of intonation problem; could it be playing both the violin and the viola can cause some “muscle memory” problems? And the violin sounded out of tune (indeed he tuned it again after the first movement.) Most puzzling was the orchestra (especially the brass and woodwind) seemed to be tuned to a different pitch. Perhaps my hearing is deteriorating, in which case I shouldn’t be able to tell.
One pleasant surprise was I could distinctly hear the violin part for most of the performance. Perhaps it was the location of my seat, or it was the solo violin. The violin Zukerman plays is a Guarnerius and has a timbre very different from a Stradivarius. Warm and full rather than brilliant and soaring, usually considered more suitable for chamber music but worked very well in this instance.
After the undeserved multiple curtain calls evinced by the enthusiastic audience, Zukerman began playing Brahm’s Lullaby. One kept hoping he would launch into some virtuoso variations on the theme, but it was not to be; he just humored us with the good tone of his instrument and didn’t bother to complete the piece. I found that somewhat disrespectful on his part.
The Brahms Symphony is a familiar one. The beginning melody (descending thirds followed by ascending fifths) is relatively unremarkable as a tune but Brahms somehow managed to mold it into a very interesting movement. Interestingly I am very familiar with the first three movements (Allegro non troppo, Andante moderato, Allegro giocoso) but not so much with the fourth (Allegro energico e passionate – Piu allegro). The last movement is also in passacaglia form although the 32 variations are much richer than Webern’s. Perhaps it is to be expected given the different stages and maturity levels of the two composers? Gilbert was quite expressive in terms of forming the phrases, and in most instances he was successful.
So far this season my experience with the New York Philharmonic by and large has not been exhilarating; let’s hope it improves with additional attendance. The New York Times Review describes Zukerman’s performance as “you never know quite what you will get.”
Orpheus Chamber Orhestra with Garrick Ohlsson, Piano. October 14, 2010.
Stern Auditorium at Carnegie Hall, Section Parquet Right (Row Y, Seat 14, $25).
Program
Symphony No. 4 in C minor “Tragic” (1816), D. 417 by Schubert (1797-1828).
Three Pieces from Lyric Suite (1926-28) by Alban Berg (1885-1935).
Piano Concerto No. 4 in G major, Op. 58 (1806) by Ludwig van Beethoven (1770-1827).
Just came back from a New York Philharmonic concert, so I thought I better get going with writing down my thoughts on this one from a couple of days ago while I still remember a bit of the performance.
We took up the offer of a 3-concert Orpheus Carnegie Hall series for $25 per ticket. This is the first concert of their season. While I have heard of the Orchestra before, I never paid much attention to it. It is a smallish orchestra (e.g., I counted 6 first violins, 2 basses) and does its work without a conductor. Instead they have a core group of people who would lead different pieces. The members seem very democratic about their seating – the violinist who led the first piece was sitting in the back of the second violin section during a subsequent piece. It is clear the first violin chair leads the whole thing as his/her gestures would be very pronounced. Tonight's concert was quite well attended.
Schubert wrote his fourth symphony when he was 19, and it sounded very mature. The four movements of the piece are (i) Adagio molto – Allegro vivace; (ii) Andante; (iii) Menuetto, Allegro vivace – Trio; and (iv) Allegro. He died young, and one wonders how things would otherwise be if he had had a longer life. The piece is quite nice, but the word “tragic” probably won’t come to the listener’s mind the way it was placed tonight. I found it generally quite positive. This may well be the result of listening to Mahler’s Tragic Symphony not too long ago. The sound of the orchestra was quite muffled, which was quite unexpected given this was Carnegie Hall. I also found the volume dynamic range to be a bit limited (a similar complaint with the 10/3 Dudamel Vienna Philharmonic Performance), which is again a pity. Could this be the result of not having a conductor to encourage the players along?
The program indicated an Intermission after the symphony, so we went out to the hallway so Anne could gobble down some food. Before we got settled we heard the orchestra’s tuning sounds, turns out it was a “false” intermission. It made more sense as otherwise they would have to bring out the piano in the middle of the second half.
Alban Berg studied under Schoenberg and is part of this “Second Viennese School.” His music however is much more melodic than Schoenberg’s, although no much of it is hummable. The Suite is a set of six movements first wriiten for a quartet, and Berg transcribed three of them (Andante amoroso; Allegro misterioso – Trio estatico; Adagio appassionato) into music for a string orchestra, and that is what we heard tonight. The Program Notes mentioned it was a great musicological event when people found the notes by Berg that explained the music. I found the enthusiasm a bit over the top, but did listen for the stories behind the different movements – the lovers’ first meeting, the first profession of love, and the consummation of the affair. Affairs have remained the same throughout history, but the music that describes them somehow manages to evolve quite drastically over the years.
Overall I find the piece okay, but not memorable. Interestingly I got to listen to Schoenberg’s other famous student Webern on Saturday.
Garrick Ohlsson, the soloist for tonight’s Beethoven Piano Concerto, won the Chopin competition in 1970. Given he grew up in the New York area, and now lives in the Bay Area, it is quite interesting that I haven’t heard him until tonight. When I was wandering the narrow halls of Carnegie Hall during (the real) intermission, I found a picture of him (when he was younger) hung on a wall, right next to one of Joan Sutherland who passed away last week.
Ohlsson certainly did an excellent technical job, intricate phrasing, no missed notes (that I could tell), and seemed to tackle the difficult passages (especially the last movement) with ease. However, the overall effect was not as good as I had hoped. I appreciated how the piano and orchestra worked together, appreciated the melodies, appreciated the brilliance, and other aspects of the performance, but somehow these elements were not strung together into a compelling story. I heard Emmuel Ax play this last year at Lincoln Center, and used phrases like “architectural masterpiece” and “thoroughly enjoyable” to describe that performance. Those words didn’t come to mind tonight. Anne thought it was a great performance, though.
The Playbill (interview with Ohlsson) described the second movement as the orchestra failed attempt to overwhelm the piano. This helped greatly in my appreciation of the movement. The three movements of the concerto are Allegro moderato, Andante con mote, and Rondo (Vivace).
Ohlsson played Chopin’s Waltz No. 18 as an encore. A bit long, but well executed and very enjoyable; his tempo was unbelievably fast.
Overall the concert was a bit disappointing. I guess my default expectation was "high" since I started not really knowing what to expect. The WQXR blogger loved it, though.
Program
Symphony No. 4 in C minor “Tragic” (1816), D. 417 by Schubert (1797-1828).
Three Pieces from Lyric Suite (1926-28) by Alban Berg (1885-1935).
Piano Concerto No. 4 in G major, Op. 58 (1806) by Ludwig van Beethoven (1770-1827).
Just came back from a New York Philharmonic concert, so I thought I better get going with writing down my thoughts on this one from a couple of days ago while I still remember a bit of the performance.
We took up the offer of a 3-concert Orpheus Carnegie Hall series for $25 per ticket. This is the first concert of their season. While I have heard of the Orchestra before, I never paid much attention to it. It is a smallish orchestra (e.g., I counted 6 first violins, 2 basses) and does its work without a conductor. Instead they have a core group of people who would lead different pieces. The members seem very democratic about their seating – the violinist who led the first piece was sitting in the back of the second violin section during a subsequent piece. It is clear the first violin chair leads the whole thing as his/her gestures would be very pronounced. Tonight's concert was quite well attended.
Schubert wrote his fourth symphony when he was 19, and it sounded very mature. The four movements of the piece are (i) Adagio molto – Allegro vivace; (ii) Andante; (iii) Menuetto, Allegro vivace – Trio; and (iv) Allegro. He died young, and one wonders how things would otherwise be if he had had a longer life. The piece is quite nice, but the word “tragic” probably won’t come to the listener’s mind the way it was placed tonight. I found it generally quite positive. This may well be the result of listening to Mahler’s Tragic Symphony not too long ago. The sound of the orchestra was quite muffled, which was quite unexpected given this was Carnegie Hall. I also found the volume dynamic range to be a bit limited (a similar complaint with the 10/3 Dudamel Vienna Philharmonic Performance), which is again a pity. Could this be the result of not having a conductor to encourage the players along?
The program indicated an Intermission after the symphony, so we went out to the hallway so Anne could gobble down some food. Before we got settled we heard the orchestra’s tuning sounds, turns out it was a “false” intermission. It made more sense as otherwise they would have to bring out the piano in the middle of the second half.
Alban Berg studied under Schoenberg and is part of this “Second Viennese School.” His music however is much more melodic than Schoenberg’s, although no much of it is hummable. The Suite is a set of six movements first wriiten for a quartet, and Berg transcribed three of them (Andante amoroso; Allegro misterioso – Trio estatico; Adagio appassionato) into music for a string orchestra, and that is what we heard tonight. The Program Notes mentioned it was a great musicological event when people found the notes by Berg that explained the music. I found the enthusiasm a bit over the top, but did listen for the stories behind the different movements – the lovers’ first meeting, the first profession of love, and the consummation of the affair. Affairs have remained the same throughout history, but the music that describes them somehow manages to evolve quite drastically over the years.
Overall I find the piece okay, but not memorable. Interestingly I got to listen to Schoenberg’s other famous student Webern on Saturday.
Garrick Ohlsson, the soloist for tonight’s Beethoven Piano Concerto, won the Chopin competition in 1970. Given he grew up in the New York area, and now lives in the Bay Area, it is quite interesting that I haven’t heard him until tonight. When I was wandering the narrow halls of Carnegie Hall during (the real) intermission, I found a picture of him (when he was younger) hung on a wall, right next to one of Joan Sutherland who passed away last week.
Ohlsson certainly did an excellent technical job, intricate phrasing, no missed notes (that I could tell), and seemed to tackle the difficult passages (especially the last movement) with ease. However, the overall effect was not as good as I had hoped. I appreciated how the piano and orchestra worked together, appreciated the melodies, appreciated the brilliance, and other aspects of the performance, but somehow these elements were not strung together into a compelling story. I heard Emmuel Ax play this last year at Lincoln Center, and used phrases like “architectural masterpiece” and “thoroughly enjoyable” to describe that performance. Those words didn’t come to mind tonight. Anne thought it was a great performance, though.
The Playbill (interview with Ohlsson) described the second movement as the orchestra failed attempt to overwhelm the piano. This helped greatly in my appreciation of the movement. The three movements of the concerto are Allegro moderato, Andante con mote, and Rondo (Vivace).
Ohlsson played Chopin’s Waltz No. 18 as an encore. A bit long, but well executed and very enjoyable; his tempo was unbelievably fast.
Overall the concert was a bit disappointing. I guess my default expectation was "high" since I started not really knowing what to expect. The WQXR blogger loved it, though.
Friday, October 08, 2010
New York Philharmonic – Alan Gilbert, conductor; Joshua Bell, violin. October 7, 2010.
Avery Fisher Hall at Lincoln Center. First Tier Center (Seat DD109, $65).
Program
Prelude to the Afternoon of a Faun (1892-94) by Debussy (1862-1918).
Concerto for Violin and Orchestra in D minor, Op. 47 (1902-04; rev. 1905) by Sibelius (1865-1957).
Kraft (1983-85) by Magnus Lindberg (b. 1958).
Musicians/Artists
Chen Halevi, Clarinet; Carter Brey, Cello; Magnus Lindberg, Piano; Markus Rhoten, Timpani; Christopher S. Lamb, Percussion; Daniel Druckman, Percussion; Juhani Liimatainen, Electronics; Lou Mannarino, Sound Design
Alan Gilbert’s notes in the Playbill and his short talk before the concert certainly made the concert sound quite interesting. The centerpiece is going to be the Lindberg, a Finn, piece which he composed about 25 years ago. To demonstrate the tradition of Finnish music, Sibelius’s violin concerto is a natural choice. It is quite likely that Lindberg went to the Sibelius conservatory (where else could it be?), so it would be interesting to see how music from that school has changed over the years. To link the Debussy piece to the rest of the program took some imagination, although Gilbert illustrated it quite well with how radical the music actually was by demonstrating the different “amplitudes” (I think he meant chromatic intervals) in the flute, clarinet, cello, and bass segments. And he contrasted this with Wagner’s leitmotifs. In Lindberg’s case the distinctive sounds are made by different beats in different instruments, the interplay between chaos and harmony (my words), and use of musicians staged in different parts of the auditorium and sound projected in different speakers by the sound technician.
The rather lengthy introduction did make Debussy sound more interesting than usual. I must have heard this piece many times before, but somehow never seem to remember it. I would have associated it with Debussy anyway – even without Gilbert’s explanation. He did say he liked the melody in the middle part of the piece; and I couldn’t quite tell which melody he meant.
We have heard Sibelius’s violin concerto many times before (more than I remembered, it turns out, when I checked my prior blogs.) I have written a lot about Sibelius and the violin, and there is no need to repeat here. Suffice it to say the piece can be very moving if played well. My prior “encounters” with Bell hadn’t been the most encouraging: I often remarked on his intonation problems, and wondered why the sound of his Stradivarius didn’t project well. His performance today made me change my mind. The intonation problems were there, but he strung together an excellent interpretation of the concerto. The frustration, the struggle, the bargaining, and the acceptance (stages of grief) were all there. And his violin served him well, the softer passages generally spoke above the orchestra. Bell worked very hard at it: he was sweating quite profusely.
The audience was appreciative. One got the feeling Bell wanted to do an encore but thought better of it as it would detract from the overall arcing (or arching) effect of the concert.
We heard Lindberg’s EXPO and Al largo pieces before. While forgettable, they were both relatively short and bearable. Tonight’s piece was advertised to be 27 minutes long (turned out to me more than 30 minutes, or felt that way) and involved a huge orchestra. Much was written in the news about how Lindberg collected pieces of scrap metal from junkyards to be percussion instruments, and indeed there were scattered pieces of junk on stage and in the concert hall: I saw empty gas cylinders, cogs, rocks, wooden wind chimes, containers of water and a stop sign. There is also a sign in front of the podium saying something like “Sewerage Service” which Gilbert said was just nice to have. Hanging in the ceiling over the middle part of the hall was a huge gong which was lowered during the performance.
Gilbert talked a bit more about this piece, and asked different players to demonstrate the strange sounds they could make from the instruments. Mercifully, when he asked Lindberg if he had anything to say, it was “let’s get on with it.” Lindberg played the piano, the gong and other percussion instruments, and he also made a gurgling sound by blowing air into a container of water through a rubber tube.
It is a complex piece of music, started with a loud chord, and reached 62 (or 72) notes when it got to Bar 4. Also at Bar 169 the conductor had to make chirping sounds (with the aid of a microphone.) The soloists were all dressed in polo shirts, jeans, and sneakers. One’s first guess is this is for the “junkyard” theme; probably, but turns out many of them have to run from the stage to the hall and play percussion. Carter Brey showed his athleticism by jumping from the stage and running to the middle of the auditorium to tap on an empty gas tank. One could hear him teasing the percussionists about how anyone could do their job. Different brass and piccolo players also went into the hall to play certain segments. They managed to do so in their black ties and dresses.
There are microphones placed in front of the various solo instruments (the cello in particular), not for sound amplification but to move them around the concert hall over different speakers. This generated a moving effect which was interesting at times.
If I had bothered to take notes, I am sure I would have a lot to say about other aspects of the composition. Perhaps even a bit about the music itself, how it started complex and ended rather simply. The question is, however, what’s the point? It may be an architecturally interesting piece on many levels, and engages the listeners on many different levels; but as a piece that stirs the soul it fails miserably. And (to borrow a phrase from NY Times) it is not that good that it should last 30 minutes.
I have never seen so many people walk out during the middle of a piece like today. We left right at the conclusion as we had to catch a train home. A concert advertised as lasting 1 ½ hours ended up being 2 ¼ hours long. (One reason is it took 30 minutes to set up the stage for the Lindberg piece.)
The first half of the concert certainly was to my taste. I don’t regret listening to the Lindberg piece, but it is quite unlikely I will go listen to it again. Not quite the "that's 30 minutes of my life I'll never get back," but I am certainly glad Lindberg's appointment as composer-in-residence will end after this year.
The New York Times review came out today (October 8). The reviewer analyzed the Lindberg piece just I suspected people would. He was very positive about it, though.
Program
Prelude to the Afternoon of a Faun (1892-94) by Debussy (1862-1918).
Concerto for Violin and Orchestra in D minor, Op. 47 (1902-04; rev. 1905) by Sibelius (1865-1957).
Kraft (1983-85) by Magnus Lindberg (b. 1958).
Musicians/Artists
Chen Halevi, Clarinet; Carter Brey, Cello; Magnus Lindberg, Piano; Markus Rhoten, Timpani; Christopher S. Lamb, Percussion; Daniel Druckman, Percussion; Juhani Liimatainen, Electronics; Lou Mannarino, Sound Design
Alan Gilbert’s notes in the Playbill and his short talk before the concert certainly made the concert sound quite interesting. The centerpiece is going to be the Lindberg, a Finn, piece which he composed about 25 years ago. To demonstrate the tradition of Finnish music, Sibelius’s violin concerto is a natural choice. It is quite likely that Lindberg went to the Sibelius conservatory (where else could it be?), so it would be interesting to see how music from that school has changed over the years. To link the Debussy piece to the rest of the program took some imagination, although Gilbert illustrated it quite well with how radical the music actually was by demonstrating the different “amplitudes” (I think he meant chromatic intervals) in the flute, clarinet, cello, and bass segments. And he contrasted this with Wagner’s leitmotifs. In Lindberg’s case the distinctive sounds are made by different beats in different instruments, the interplay between chaos and harmony (my words), and use of musicians staged in different parts of the auditorium and sound projected in different speakers by the sound technician.
The rather lengthy introduction did make Debussy sound more interesting than usual. I must have heard this piece many times before, but somehow never seem to remember it. I would have associated it with Debussy anyway – even without Gilbert’s explanation. He did say he liked the melody in the middle part of the piece; and I couldn’t quite tell which melody he meant.
We have heard Sibelius’s violin concerto many times before (more than I remembered, it turns out, when I checked my prior blogs.) I have written a lot about Sibelius and the violin, and there is no need to repeat here. Suffice it to say the piece can be very moving if played well. My prior “encounters” with Bell hadn’t been the most encouraging: I often remarked on his intonation problems, and wondered why the sound of his Stradivarius didn’t project well. His performance today made me change my mind. The intonation problems were there, but he strung together an excellent interpretation of the concerto. The frustration, the struggle, the bargaining, and the acceptance (stages of grief) were all there. And his violin served him well, the softer passages generally spoke above the orchestra. Bell worked very hard at it: he was sweating quite profusely.
The audience was appreciative. One got the feeling Bell wanted to do an encore but thought better of it as it would detract from the overall arcing (or arching) effect of the concert.
We heard Lindberg’s EXPO and Al largo pieces before. While forgettable, they were both relatively short and bearable. Tonight’s piece was advertised to be 27 minutes long (turned out to me more than 30 minutes, or felt that way) and involved a huge orchestra. Much was written in the news about how Lindberg collected pieces of scrap metal from junkyards to be percussion instruments, and indeed there were scattered pieces of junk on stage and in the concert hall: I saw empty gas cylinders, cogs, rocks, wooden wind chimes, containers of water and a stop sign. There is also a sign in front of the podium saying something like “Sewerage Service” which Gilbert said was just nice to have. Hanging in the ceiling over the middle part of the hall was a huge gong which was lowered during the performance.
Gilbert talked a bit more about this piece, and asked different players to demonstrate the strange sounds they could make from the instruments. Mercifully, when he asked Lindberg if he had anything to say, it was “let’s get on with it.” Lindberg played the piano, the gong and other percussion instruments, and he also made a gurgling sound by blowing air into a container of water through a rubber tube.
It is a complex piece of music, started with a loud chord, and reached 62 (or 72) notes when it got to Bar 4. Also at Bar 169 the conductor had to make chirping sounds (with the aid of a microphone.) The soloists were all dressed in polo shirts, jeans, and sneakers. One’s first guess is this is for the “junkyard” theme; probably, but turns out many of them have to run from the stage to the hall and play percussion. Carter Brey showed his athleticism by jumping from the stage and running to the middle of the auditorium to tap on an empty gas tank. One could hear him teasing the percussionists about how anyone could do their job. Different brass and piccolo players also went into the hall to play certain segments. They managed to do so in their black ties and dresses.
There are microphones placed in front of the various solo instruments (the cello in particular), not for sound amplification but to move them around the concert hall over different speakers. This generated a moving effect which was interesting at times.
If I had bothered to take notes, I am sure I would have a lot to say about other aspects of the composition. Perhaps even a bit about the music itself, how it started complex and ended rather simply. The question is, however, what’s the point? It may be an architecturally interesting piece on many levels, and engages the listeners on many different levels; but as a piece that stirs the soul it fails miserably. And (to borrow a phrase from NY Times) it is not that good that it should last 30 minutes.
I have never seen so many people walk out during the middle of a piece like today. We left right at the conclusion as we had to catch a train home. A concert advertised as lasting 1 ½ hours ended up being 2 ¼ hours long. (One reason is it took 30 minutes to set up the stage for the Lindberg piece.)
The first half of the concert certainly was to my taste. I don’t regret listening to the Lindberg piece, but it is quite unlikely I will go listen to it again. Not quite the "that's 30 minutes of my life I'll never get back," but I am certainly glad Lindberg's appointment as composer-in-residence will end after this year.
The New York Times review came out today (October 8). The reviewer analyzed the Lindberg piece just I suspected people would. He was very positive about it, though.
Monday, October 04, 2010
Vienna Philharmonic Orchestra – Gustavo Dudamel, Conductor; Yo-Yo Ma, Cello. October 3, 2010.
Stern Auditorium at Carnegie Hall, Section CB11 (Row O, Seat 21, $78).
Program
Tragic Overture, Op. 81 (1880) by Johannes Brahms (1833-1897).
Cello Concerto in A Minor, Op. 129 (1850) by Robert Schumann (1810-1856).
Symphony No. 9 in E Minor, Op. 95, “From the New World” (1893) by Antonin Dvorak (1841-1904).
We went with the Yangs right after church. Despite the threats of traffic jams from google maps, we made it to NY in good time and managed to grab a sandwich before the concert.
I didn’t realize Vienna Philharmonic had had women artists until this concert. There were a handful of string players scattered in the violin and viola sections, and one the four (!) concertmasters is a woman. All the women (and a few men) players have an asterisk after their names in the roster, denoting their status as “confirmed members of the Vienna State Opera Orchestra who do not yet belong to the association of the Vienna Philharmonic.” Whatever else that may mean, they are still considered a different class of musicians. Perhaps more protests are necessary? The harpist (whose services were not needed in today’s program) is a full member and has the first name of “Charlotte.” So, one of my questions is answered. If there are any male harpists, Vienna Philharmonic would have hired him.
The other interesting thing we saw was a couple of violins and one viola hanging in the sections before the orchestra members marched onto the stage. Initially we thought they were for handicapped members who would not be able to bring them out; turns out everyone walked out unassisted, so our next guess is they are spares in case anyone’s instrument breaks a string during the performance. That happened to me once and I sat there – quite embarrassed – during the rest of the performance. No mishap of that nature happened, so our guess remains a guess.
On to the performance …
The Tragic Overture was relatively long for an overture at 13 minutes. The program notes describes the two Brahms overtures as self-contained symphonic pieces, and that Brahms wasn’t into story-telling. This piece sounded quite flat to me, a reaction I didn’t expect to have, given what is generally said about the conductor, and my own experience listening to him conduct Mahler’s Fifth. So, alas, the concert didn’t get off to a great start.
After the orchestra got reshuffled in preparation for the cello concerto, I noticed the concertmaster remained in his seat. Perhaps they don’t excuse themselves when they are on tour, or only some orchestras have this custom?
I don’t know which of his two cellos Ma was playing, but the instrument sounded very good especially in the high registers. The relatively short concerto (about 25 minutes) has three movements played without pause (Nicht zu schnell – Langsam – Sehr lebhaft) although the demarcations were quite clear cut. Ma clearly enjoyed himself tremendously, especially the parts where there was a dialog between the soloist and the orchestra. There was an episode where he essentially had a duet with the principal cellist that was particularly pleasant. The program notes say there are few places for the soloist to show off, but I thought it was difficult enough, even as Ma made the whole thing look effortless.
I don’t get to see Ma in person very often, but do wonder where his career would go next. After today’s concert, I somehow suspect a conducting appointment may not be too far in the future as he seemed very engaged with the orchestra around him. During the applause (after the piece ended in a flourish and a high note) I told Anne he should go and shake the principal cellist’s hand for the nice duet they did together – and sure enough he jumped over the conductor’s podium to do so. Turns out he shook the cellist’s hand and embraced him many times during the curtain calls, so perhaps they are old friends?
I read somewhere “talent is God’s way of being unfair,” and Ma is an example of it. He wears it very well, though, and always comes across as a likeable guy enjoying sharing his appreciation of music with his audience. In any case, as encore he played the Prelude in Bach’s Cello Suite No. 1, made familiar by a TV ad (for American Express, I think.)
Dvorak’s Ninth Symphony is a familiar piece of music, but not often played in concert – one reason may be there are too many great recordings out there and comparisons are inevitable. At least for simple folk like me. The symphony lasts longer than it sounds (40 plus minutes) and consists of four movements (i) Adagio – Allegro molto; (ii) Largo; (iii) Scherzo: Molto vivace – Poco sostenuto; and (iv) Finale: Allegro con fuoco.
My overall impression of this was: three disappointing movements not quite redeemed by the well-played fourth movement. Again the word “flat” comes to mind. I do have a few specific negative comments, though. Both the brass and woodwind sections figure prominently in the piece, and neither section was that good. The horns in particular sounded unsteady at times. The English Horn, which has a prominent melancholic melody in the second movement, sounded uninspired. For me, however, the greatest regret was the orchestra’s failure to make full use of the excellent acoustics of the auditorium. The dynamic range by-and-large was too compressed, so we didn’t get to hear the quiet whispers that (one hopes) would capture one’s imagination.
Again, with the exception of the last movement during which he was off his feet several times, Dudamel’s conducting was quite subdued. I remain amazed by these leading-the-beat type of conductors; sometimes the interval between his cue and when the orchestra would come in would be so long that I would have jumped in many times. But then I am not a professional.
The applause was enthusiastic. And there was an encore (piece unknown to me.)
On paper this should have been a great concert: Vienna Philharmonic, Yo-Yo Ma, and Gustavo Dudamel. Indeed the number of people outside looking for tickets is the largest I have ever seen. The high expectations set were not met.
Oh, we had to wait a long time to pick up the car (the garage had only one attendant), and there was a bit of a traffic jam leaving the city. Consistent with the theme that things were okay, but could be better.
Today (October 9) I found the New York Times review of the series (with different conductors), and the section on this particular one is rather short. He takes Ma's enthusiastic embrace of the principal cellist Franz Bartolomey as condescension. He also identified the encore as the Waltz from Bernstein's divertimento in which Bartolomey played a major part. Perhaps the practice of principals excusing themselves is a good one as we won't have this sort of perceived competition.
Program
Tragic Overture, Op. 81 (1880) by Johannes Brahms (1833-1897).
Cello Concerto in A Minor, Op. 129 (1850) by Robert Schumann (1810-1856).
Symphony No. 9 in E Minor, Op. 95, “From the New World” (1893) by Antonin Dvorak (1841-1904).
We went with the Yangs right after church. Despite the threats of traffic jams from google maps, we made it to NY in good time and managed to grab a sandwich before the concert.
I didn’t realize Vienna Philharmonic had had women artists until this concert. There were a handful of string players scattered in the violin and viola sections, and one the four (!) concertmasters is a woman. All the women (and a few men) players have an asterisk after their names in the roster, denoting their status as “confirmed members of the Vienna State Opera Orchestra who do not yet belong to the association of the Vienna Philharmonic.” Whatever else that may mean, they are still considered a different class of musicians. Perhaps more protests are necessary? The harpist (whose services were not needed in today’s program) is a full member and has the first name of “Charlotte.” So, one of my questions is answered. If there are any male harpists, Vienna Philharmonic would have hired him.
The other interesting thing we saw was a couple of violins and one viola hanging in the sections before the orchestra members marched onto the stage. Initially we thought they were for handicapped members who would not be able to bring them out; turns out everyone walked out unassisted, so our next guess is they are spares in case anyone’s instrument breaks a string during the performance. That happened to me once and I sat there – quite embarrassed – during the rest of the performance. No mishap of that nature happened, so our guess remains a guess.
On to the performance …
The Tragic Overture was relatively long for an overture at 13 minutes. The program notes describes the two Brahms overtures as self-contained symphonic pieces, and that Brahms wasn’t into story-telling. This piece sounded quite flat to me, a reaction I didn’t expect to have, given what is generally said about the conductor, and my own experience listening to him conduct Mahler’s Fifth. So, alas, the concert didn’t get off to a great start.
After the orchestra got reshuffled in preparation for the cello concerto, I noticed the concertmaster remained in his seat. Perhaps they don’t excuse themselves when they are on tour, or only some orchestras have this custom?
I don’t know which of his two cellos Ma was playing, but the instrument sounded very good especially in the high registers. The relatively short concerto (about 25 minutes) has three movements played without pause (Nicht zu schnell – Langsam – Sehr lebhaft) although the demarcations were quite clear cut. Ma clearly enjoyed himself tremendously, especially the parts where there was a dialog between the soloist and the orchestra. There was an episode where he essentially had a duet with the principal cellist that was particularly pleasant. The program notes say there are few places for the soloist to show off, but I thought it was difficult enough, even as Ma made the whole thing look effortless.
I don’t get to see Ma in person very often, but do wonder where his career would go next. After today’s concert, I somehow suspect a conducting appointment may not be too far in the future as he seemed very engaged with the orchestra around him. During the applause (after the piece ended in a flourish and a high note) I told Anne he should go and shake the principal cellist’s hand for the nice duet they did together – and sure enough he jumped over the conductor’s podium to do so. Turns out he shook the cellist’s hand and embraced him many times during the curtain calls, so perhaps they are old friends?
I read somewhere “talent is God’s way of being unfair,” and Ma is an example of it. He wears it very well, though, and always comes across as a likeable guy enjoying sharing his appreciation of music with his audience. In any case, as encore he played the Prelude in Bach’s Cello Suite No. 1, made familiar by a TV ad (for American Express, I think.)
Dvorak’s Ninth Symphony is a familiar piece of music, but not often played in concert – one reason may be there are too many great recordings out there and comparisons are inevitable. At least for simple folk like me. The symphony lasts longer than it sounds (40 plus minutes) and consists of four movements (i) Adagio – Allegro molto; (ii) Largo; (iii) Scherzo: Molto vivace – Poco sostenuto; and (iv) Finale: Allegro con fuoco.
My overall impression of this was: three disappointing movements not quite redeemed by the well-played fourth movement. Again the word “flat” comes to mind. I do have a few specific negative comments, though. Both the brass and woodwind sections figure prominently in the piece, and neither section was that good. The horns in particular sounded unsteady at times. The English Horn, which has a prominent melancholic melody in the second movement, sounded uninspired. For me, however, the greatest regret was the orchestra’s failure to make full use of the excellent acoustics of the auditorium. The dynamic range by-and-large was too compressed, so we didn’t get to hear the quiet whispers that (one hopes) would capture one’s imagination.
Again, with the exception of the last movement during which he was off his feet several times, Dudamel’s conducting was quite subdued. I remain amazed by these leading-the-beat type of conductors; sometimes the interval between his cue and when the orchestra would come in would be so long that I would have jumped in many times. But then I am not a professional.
The applause was enthusiastic. And there was an encore (piece unknown to me.)
On paper this should have been a great concert: Vienna Philharmonic, Yo-Yo Ma, and Gustavo Dudamel. Indeed the number of people outside looking for tickets is the largest I have ever seen. The high expectations set were not met.
Oh, we had to wait a long time to pick up the car (the garage had only one attendant), and there was a bit of a traffic jam leaving the city. Consistent with the theme that things were okay, but could be better.
Today (October 9) I found the New York Times review of the series (with different conductors), and the section on this particular one is rather short. He takes Ma's enthusiastic embrace of the principal cellist Franz Bartolomey as condescension. He also identified the encore as the Waltz from Bernstein's divertimento in which Bartolomey played a major part. Perhaps the practice of principals excusing themselves is a good one as we won't have this sort of perceived competition.
Friday, October 01, 2010
New York Philharmonic – Alan Gilbert, Conductor. September 30, 2010.
Avery Fisher Hall at Lincoln Center, First Tier, Seat CC7 ($65.00).
Program
Symphony No. 6 in A minor (1903-05, rev. 1906) by Mahler (1860-1911)
We heard this symphony in June 2005, conducted by Maazel. Looking back on my notes, it was a great performance. I was wondering then how often this symphony gets performed, well, in the case of the New York Philharmonic, four plus years.
Many of the things I observed about the symphony carried over to this one. In fact I am quite impressed with the detail notes I took about that performance, if I may say so myself. Having read both my own notes and the program notes before the concert, I was ready to enjoy this performance, and enjoyed it I did.
The four movements of the symphony are (i) Allegro energico, ma non troppo; (ii) Andante; (iii) Scherzo: Weighty; and (iv) Finale. Allegro moderato – Allegro energico.
A second hearing of any symphony, particularly one by Mahler, isn’t going to make one an expert on the piece. I was wondering whether I wanted to buy a 12-or-so-CD collection of Mahler’s symphonies, this clinched it, I shall do so shortly. In the past 5 or so years (since I started this blog) I have heard Nos. 1, 5, 6, 7, 8 and 9, some of them twice, but I have only No. 5 in my iPod – time to fill up the library.
Given the passage of time, it is difficult to compare Gilbert’s performance with that of Maazel’s. Nonetheless, I have to say Gilbert still has a ways to go before he can bring out Mahler the same way Maazel seems able to. The symphony was at some point called “Tragic” and is described by von Karajan as one that ends in complete hopelessness. The ending surely fit the description, but there certainly didn’t seem to be the same degree of desperation and struggle compared to Maazel’s performance. At times Gilbert even appeared a bit too mechanical (and too crisp, believe it or not) in the way the led the orchestra.
Interestingly, the remark I made about the second movement (“the movement could have concluded at this point”) is still valid, in my judgment. Also, Mahler initially had three hammer blows but reduced it to two because he was superstitious. We heard three in this performance, hopefully nothing bad will happen. Actually by the time the third strike was heard the despair was so complete that it felt a bit like an overkill. According to the NY Phil website, “the hammer” was designed for the June 2005 performance. The other big discussion by Gilbert was the order of movements (ii) and (iii). The way it was played tonight was the same as that of 2005, and is the usual order of things in symphonies. I do wonder if the overall experience would be different, though.
In any case, this was an “all hands on deck” production, many instruments doing “doubling” functions, two sets of timpani, two sets of cowbells (one off stage), this famous hammer, and two sets of cymbals. It was inevitable that a stray note would occur here or there.
A couple of observations I forgot to write down from last concert. One is this new guy who is both a timpanist and a percussionist; he seems to be tuning the timpani drums all the time. The other is the cellist Qiang Tu lost his endowed chair. The chair is still in the program, empty, and he is still there, now a regular player. Wonder what happened.
I was glad I went to this concert, and actually got to compare two performances (not necessarily valid).
(Note added 10/3) Here is the NY Times review. The reviewer evidently knows more about the music than I do; he is quite pleased with the performance.
Program
Symphony No. 6 in A minor (1903-05, rev. 1906) by Mahler (1860-1911)
We heard this symphony in June 2005, conducted by Maazel. Looking back on my notes, it was a great performance. I was wondering then how often this symphony gets performed, well, in the case of the New York Philharmonic, four plus years.
Many of the things I observed about the symphony carried over to this one. In fact I am quite impressed with the detail notes I took about that performance, if I may say so myself. Having read both my own notes and the program notes before the concert, I was ready to enjoy this performance, and enjoyed it I did.
The four movements of the symphony are (i) Allegro energico, ma non troppo; (ii) Andante; (iii) Scherzo: Weighty; and (iv) Finale. Allegro moderato – Allegro energico.
A second hearing of any symphony, particularly one by Mahler, isn’t going to make one an expert on the piece. I was wondering whether I wanted to buy a 12-or-so-CD collection of Mahler’s symphonies, this clinched it, I shall do so shortly. In the past 5 or so years (since I started this blog) I have heard Nos. 1, 5, 6, 7, 8 and 9, some of them twice, but I have only No. 5 in my iPod – time to fill up the library.
Given the passage of time, it is difficult to compare Gilbert’s performance with that of Maazel’s. Nonetheless, I have to say Gilbert still has a ways to go before he can bring out Mahler the same way Maazel seems able to. The symphony was at some point called “Tragic” and is described by von Karajan as one that ends in complete hopelessness. The ending surely fit the description, but there certainly didn’t seem to be the same degree of desperation and struggle compared to Maazel’s performance. At times Gilbert even appeared a bit too mechanical (and too crisp, believe it or not) in the way the led the orchestra.
Interestingly, the remark I made about the second movement (“the movement could have concluded at this point”) is still valid, in my judgment. Also, Mahler initially had three hammer blows but reduced it to two because he was superstitious. We heard three in this performance, hopefully nothing bad will happen. Actually by the time the third strike was heard the despair was so complete that it felt a bit like an overkill. According to the NY Phil website, “the hammer” was designed for the June 2005 performance. The other big discussion by Gilbert was the order of movements (ii) and (iii). The way it was played tonight was the same as that of 2005, and is the usual order of things in symphonies. I do wonder if the overall experience would be different, though.
In any case, this was an “all hands on deck” production, many instruments doing “doubling” functions, two sets of timpani, two sets of cowbells (one off stage), this famous hammer, and two sets of cymbals. It was inevitable that a stray note would occur here or there.
A couple of observations I forgot to write down from last concert. One is this new guy who is both a timpanist and a percussionist; he seems to be tuning the timpani drums all the time. The other is the cellist Qiang Tu lost his endowed chair. The chair is still in the program, empty, and he is still there, now a regular player. Wonder what happened.
I was glad I went to this concert, and actually got to compare two performances (not necessarily valid).
(Note added 10/3) Here is the NY Times review. The reviewer evidently knows more about the music than I do; he is quite pleased with the performance.
Saturday, September 25, 2010
New York Philharmonic – Alan Gilbert, Conductor; Itzhak Perlman, Violin. September 24, 2010.
Avery Fisher Hall at Lincoln Center, Orchestra 1, Seat W103 ($65.00).
Program
Don Juan, Tone Poem after Nikolaus Lenau, Op. 20 (1888) by Richard Strauss (1864-1949)
Concerto in E minor for Violin and Orchestra, Op. 64 (1800) by Mendelssohn (1809-47)
Metaboles (1961-64) by Henri Dutilleux (b. 1916)
Symphonic Metamorphosis of Themes of Carl Maria von Weber (1940-43) by Hindemith (1895-1963)
This is the first series of concerts by the Philharmonic this season (not counting the opening program), the program notes say the concert lasts 1:45 (including intermission), it ended up being 2:15. The pieces lasted longer than what the program notes say: 18 min, 27 min, 17 min and 20 min in order; the intermission was longer than the usual 20 minutes also, they had trouble getting the audience back into the auditorium. Which was okay, as we still had ample time to take the train home.
The program notes were more detailed than usual. Since it is the same program annotator (James Keller), I imagine it is an outlier instead of the new normal. In any case, Strauss’s tone poem describes the well-known character Don Juan’s conquests of women. Some noble, some ”common tramps” (supposedly a remark made by Strauss himself during a Boston Symphony Orchestra rehearsal), and depicted by various episodes in the music. I didn’t try to count how many different “women” were in the music, but enough. Don Juan met his end with a violent sound in the orchestra followed by a few measures of decrescendo, all fair enough in the case of a tone poem. Gilbert says this is a difficult orchestra virtuoso piece; and he is right as the New York Philharmonic sounded muddled and chaotic on many occasions.
Mendelssohn’s violin concerto is a staple of the violin repertoire. Considered a show piece with nice melodies, it is always enjoyable. Difficult, but definitely within the abilities of a good violinist. With Perlman as the soloist, what can go wrong? A lot, it turns out.
It was a lackluster performance, especially from Perlman. The first movement (Allegro molto appassionato) began well enough, but soon afterwards he began to lose it. Stray notes seldom happen in a virtuoso performance, and soon he had a couple of them. That must have caught the audience by surprise, and probably shook Perlman’s confidence as he began to have some intonation problems. The second movement (Andante) was uninspired, and some of the double stops were not as clear as they could be. The performance was redeemed somewhat by the third movement (Allegretto ma non troppo – Allegro molto) where Perlman got to showcase some of his well-known “light touch” (my terminology). Anne didn’t think it was that good – she complained about the soloist and orchestra not being in sync.
The audience still jumped up and gave him an enthusiastic standing ovation. I am beginning to have my doubts about the sophistication of the New York concert-going public. One could attribute the applause to (i) it’s the NY Phil and Perlman, so it must be good; or (ii) Perlman has overcome a lot of physical difficulties, so we should always applaud no matter what. I suspect it is the former. Perlman may just be coasting (after all, he probably starting playing this concerto when he was six) or he has lost some of his touch. Boos from the audience may be a wake-up call to send him back to the practice studio, or for him to concentrate his career on teaching and conducting.
Henri Dutilleux is described as one of the most important composers working today, per Gilbert. Since there are so few of them (I tend to forget them immediately), that may well be true. In any case, I couldn’t make heads or tails from Dutilleux’s discussion of the title: Metaboles means (i) passage connecting the conjunct and disjunct systems; (ii) a stylistic figure in the field of rhetoric; (iii) a term in physiology. Played without pause, the 18 or so minute piece actually consists of five movements: Incantatoire, Lineare, Obsessionnel, Torpide, and Flamboyant. Other than the last one, I don’t know any of the words. The orchestration is rich, and the sound was full. Supposedly each of the first four movements highlighted a particular section (woodwinds, strings, brass, and percussion) and Gilbert did ask some members to take a bow, I couldn’t quite tell.
Hindemith’s piece was a lot easier to grasp (grasping doesn’t mean enjoying). It consists of four movements: Allegro; Turandot, Scherzo (Moderato); Andantino; and Marsch. I take it Marsch means March (which it sounded like), but have no idea what Turandot means, other than it has nothing to do with Puccini’s eponymous opera. In any case, the first movement sounds like a “regular” orchestra piece, the second begins with a quiet introduction by the percussion, the third starts with a flute solo and is characterized by different sections of the orchestra repeating a theme in order, the last movement begins with the brass section and somehow reminds me of the march in Berlioz’s Damnation of Faust. Overall an okay piece, but not a composition or performance that would make you sit of the edge of your seat.
For this concert, Gilbert didn’t need music for the Strauss and Hindemith pieces, but needed it for Mendelssohn and Dutilleux. A little surprising on the Mendelssohn since he is a violinist himself. We also noticed that they have a young timpanist/percussionist (Kyle Zerna) and Qiang Tu vacated the chair he had last couple of years – wonder what happened there.
I didn’t expect to say this about the first New York Philharmonic performance of the season: uninspiring and disappointing. We are going next week to hear Mahler’s sixth, let’s hope it goes much much better.
As of today (Saturday 9/25) I haven’t found a review of the performance yet. I will link to it when I see it.
Program
Don Juan, Tone Poem after Nikolaus Lenau, Op. 20 (1888) by Richard Strauss (1864-1949)
Concerto in E minor for Violin and Orchestra, Op. 64 (1800) by Mendelssohn (1809-47)
Metaboles (1961-64) by Henri Dutilleux (b. 1916)
Symphonic Metamorphosis of Themes of Carl Maria von Weber (1940-43) by Hindemith (1895-1963)
This is the first series of concerts by the Philharmonic this season (not counting the opening program), the program notes say the concert lasts 1:45 (including intermission), it ended up being 2:15. The pieces lasted longer than what the program notes say: 18 min, 27 min, 17 min and 20 min in order; the intermission was longer than the usual 20 minutes also, they had trouble getting the audience back into the auditorium. Which was okay, as we still had ample time to take the train home.
The program notes were more detailed than usual. Since it is the same program annotator (James Keller), I imagine it is an outlier instead of the new normal. In any case, Strauss’s tone poem describes the well-known character Don Juan’s conquests of women. Some noble, some ”common tramps” (supposedly a remark made by Strauss himself during a Boston Symphony Orchestra rehearsal), and depicted by various episodes in the music. I didn’t try to count how many different “women” were in the music, but enough. Don Juan met his end with a violent sound in the orchestra followed by a few measures of decrescendo, all fair enough in the case of a tone poem. Gilbert says this is a difficult orchestra virtuoso piece; and he is right as the New York Philharmonic sounded muddled and chaotic on many occasions.
Mendelssohn’s violin concerto is a staple of the violin repertoire. Considered a show piece with nice melodies, it is always enjoyable. Difficult, but definitely within the abilities of a good violinist. With Perlman as the soloist, what can go wrong? A lot, it turns out.
It was a lackluster performance, especially from Perlman. The first movement (Allegro molto appassionato) began well enough, but soon afterwards he began to lose it. Stray notes seldom happen in a virtuoso performance, and soon he had a couple of them. That must have caught the audience by surprise, and probably shook Perlman’s confidence as he began to have some intonation problems. The second movement (Andante) was uninspired, and some of the double stops were not as clear as they could be. The performance was redeemed somewhat by the third movement (Allegretto ma non troppo – Allegro molto) where Perlman got to showcase some of his well-known “light touch” (my terminology). Anne didn’t think it was that good – she complained about the soloist and orchestra not being in sync.
The audience still jumped up and gave him an enthusiastic standing ovation. I am beginning to have my doubts about the sophistication of the New York concert-going public. One could attribute the applause to (i) it’s the NY Phil and Perlman, so it must be good; or (ii) Perlman has overcome a lot of physical difficulties, so we should always applaud no matter what. I suspect it is the former. Perlman may just be coasting (after all, he probably starting playing this concerto when he was six) or he has lost some of his touch. Boos from the audience may be a wake-up call to send him back to the practice studio, or for him to concentrate his career on teaching and conducting.
Henri Dutilleux is described as one of the most important composers working today, per Gilbert. Since there are so few of them (I tend to forget them immediately), that may well be true. In any case, I couldn’t make heads or tails from Dutilleux’s discussion of the title: Metaboles means (i) passage connecting the conjunct and disjunct systems; (ii) a stylistic figure in the field of rhetoric; (iii) a term in physiology. Played without pause, the 18 or so minute piece actually consists of five movements: Incantatoire, Lineare, Obsessionnel, Torpide, and Flamboyant. Other than the last one, I don’t know any of the words. The orchestration is rich, and the sound was full. Supposedly each of the first four movements highlighted a particular section (woodwinds, strings, brass, and percussion) and Gilbert did ask some members to take a bow, I couldn’t quite tell.
Hindemith’s piece was a lot easier to grasp (grasping doesn’t mean enjoying). It consists of four movements: Allegro; Turandot, Scherzo (Moderato); Andantino; and Marsch. I take it Marsch means March (which it sounded like), but have no idea what Turandot means, other than it has nothing to do with Puccini’s eponymous opera. In any case, the first movement sounds like a “regular” orchestra piece, the second begins with a quiet introduction by the percussion, the third starts with a flute solo and is characterized by different sections of the orchestra repeating a theme in order, the last movement begins with the brass section and somehow reminds me of the march in Berlioz’s Damnation of Faust. Overall an okay piece, but not a composition or performance that would make you sit of the edge of your seat.
For this concert, Gilbert didn’t need music for the Strauss and Hindemith pieces, but needed it for Mendelssohn and Dutilleux. A little surprising on the Mendelssohn since he is a violinist himself. We also noticed that they have a young timpanist/percussionist (Kyle Zerna) and Qiang Tu vacated the chair he had last couple of years – wonder what happened there.
I didn’t expect to say this about the first New York Philharmonic performance of the season: uninspiring and disappointing. We are going next week to hear Mahler’s sixth, let’s hope it goes much much better.
As of today (Saturday 9/25) I haven’t found a review of the performance yet. I will link to it when I see it.
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