New York Philharmonic – Alan Gilbert, conductor. October 1, 2011.

Avery Fisher Hall at Lincoln Center, Orchestra 3 Center (Seat HH111, $46.50).

Program

Quintet in A major, D.667, Trout (1819) by Schubert (1797-1828).

Symphony No. 7 in D minor, Op. 70 (1884-85) by Dvorak (1841-1904).

Quintet: Michelle Kim, violin; Rebecca Young, viola; Carter Brey, cello; Satoshi Okamoto, bass; Anne-Marie McDermott, piano.

This was the first New York Philharmonic concert for us this season, and I was rather looking forward to it.  If I am in the mood to listen to music, but not sure what I really want, the Trout Quintet would be one of the possibilities.  I haven’t listened to that many of Dvorak Symphonies (Eighth and, of course, Ninth) and the concert would broaden my exposure to this composer.  Turns out we heard the seventh symphony in early 2006, I will get back to that later.

Schubert’s quintet was written while he was vacationing in Steyr in Upper Austria.  It was played by his friends in private, and wasn’t published until after his death.  Despite its being characterized as one of the most popular pieces of chamber music, I remember only hearing it once, when I was a graduate student, at Sage Chapel, played by a student quintet.  I also have a 1996 CD with the artists Emanuel Ax, Pamela Frank, Rebecca Young, Yo-Yo Ma, and Edgar Meyer, which I have listened to numerous times.  Yes, it is the same Rebecca Young.  The five movements of the piece are: (i) Allegro vivace; (ii) Andante; (iii) Scherzo, Presto – Trio; (iv) Thema.  Andantino – Variazioni I-V – Allegretto; and (v) Allegro giusto.  Only the fourth movement is based on the eponymous earlier work of Schubert, which tells of a story of a fisherman's eventual successful attempt at catching a trout.  The variations were in turn led by the violin, the piano, the viola, and then jointly by the cello and the bass.  We then lost track as the last part of the movement saw all the instruments taking part in the lead initially.

After all these years of enjoying the piece either on CD or in my mind, there is now probably an idealized version in my head.  And alas, today’s performance didn’t quite meet that standard.  The instruments sounded flat and heavy-footed, the violin every now and then had a (slight) intonation problem, and the piece generally lacked the playfulness I came to expect of it.  Technically the performance was close to flawless (again, only gripe was the intonation problems), and it is a relatively easy piece to perform.

I had no recollection at all of Dvorak’s Seventh, and initially had thought we were listening to it for the first time.  Most people think of the New World when the words Dvorak and Symphony are thrown together.  In that work melodies abound, and the movements all show their distinct characteristics.  The Seventh, however, sounded like one huge continuous canvass, even though distinct movements exist (Allegro maestoso, Poco adagio, Vivace – Poco meno mosso and Allegro).  If I didn’t know it was Dvorak, I would have guessed Mahler.

Even though the orchestration calls for relatively few non-string instruments, the size of the orchestra was huge; the stage was filled from side to side.  The coughing between movements was a bit much, and – perhaps for that reason – there was only minimal pause between the third and fourth movements.  I guess the flu and cold season already started.

After writing the above observations on the Dvorak Symphony, I went back and read my impression after hearing it in January 2006, and discovered that I had a completely different take of that performance, agreeing with the “taut and rigorous” description by the Program Annotator.  I also put Dvorak in the "definitely-no-Mahler" category.  Perhaps the conductor does matter?  Also, there was no pause between the last two movements either, so my theory about it being triggered by all the coughing is incorrect.

Some other interesting tidbits about the work: it was commissioned and first performed by the Royal Philharmonic, and Dvorak himself was quite pleased with it.

By the way, the Port Authority recently raised the tolls to New York to $12, which now makes the trip into NYC quite expensive.  On the other hand, we have managed to find less expensive parking in the area, so things are balancing out somewhat.

Metropolitan Opera – Donizetti’s Anna Bolena. September 30, 2011.

Metropolitan Opera at Lincoln Center – Balcony Seat D7 ($71.50).

Story.  Anne Boleyn, the second wife of King Henry VIII, falls out of favor with the king.   Meanwhile, the King is in love with Anne’s lady-in-waiting Jane Seymour and decides to charge Anne with adultery and incest, allegedly committed with her former lover Percy and brother Rochefort respectively.  Anne is condemned to death and goes to her execution during the wedding of Henry VIII and Jane Seymour.

Conductor – Marco Armiliato; Jane Seymour – Ekaterina Gubanova, Anne Boleyn – Anna Netrebko, Henry VIII – Ildar Abdrazakov, Lord Rochefort – Keith Miller, Lord Richard Percy – Stephen Costello, Sir Hervey – Eduardo Valdes, Mark Smeaton – Tamara Mumford.

This was the first concert of the season that we attended, and I had high expectations for it, with Anna Netrebko headlining the cast and all.  I wasn’t disappointed.

The synopsis is a bit more complicated than the story line given above.  Smeaton was a secret admirer of Anne Boleyn and tried to help by lying about their relationship, in doing so he managed to get himself tortured and condemned to death.  Hervey is a court official who hangs around a lot, doing what court officials do, such as pronouncing the guilty verdict of various characters.

The opera is in two acts.  The program says there are three scenes in the first act, but I counted four: (i) Greenwich Palace, outside the queen’s apartments; (ii) inside Jane Seymour’s bedchamber; (iii) Greenwich Park; and (iv) a hall in the palace.  The program considers (i) and (ii) one single scene.

The overture is a bit on the long side at about ten minutes.  It started quite ominously, but soon turned sunny and bright, moving into a major key quickly.  Not quite what I expected.  Overall the orchestra sounded crisp and precise.

The set design was functional, but not grand (even though our subscription this year is a “grand spectacle” series).  The last scene happens at the Tower of London but the setting looked more like the Taj Mahal than the menacing structure on Tower Hill; and we didn't see any chopping block.  At the end of the opera, the execution is represented by a masked man holding a long sword.

The roles of Jane Seymour, Henry VIII, and Anne Boleyn were sung by Russians.  Perhaps that’s why there were many Russian-speaking audience members.  (We saw many Chinese when The First Emperor was performed, even though there were few Chinese artists in it.)

The role of the young male musician Smeaton was sung by the mezzo-soprano Tamara Mumford, whom we saw in Das Rheingold swimming in the Rhine suspended by a harness.  Her singing role was certainly more substantial in this opera; and she did great.  I never understand why young men are generally casted using women (the other one would be Cherubino in Mozart’s The Marriage of Figaro.)  This somehow confuses me to no end.

Tenor Stephen Costello, as Percy, did a reasonable job.  His voice is not as rich as the first-tier tenors but manages to get across even with a strong orchestral accompaniment, most of the time.  The role may be a bit taxing for him as he had to resort to falsetto (at least once) and lost his voice a bit towards the end.  He certainly has some impressive engagements this season, let’s hope his stamina holds up.

The Program Notes says basses like the role of Henry VIII despite the lack of arias.  To me the lines contained many nice melodies, even though they may not be readily hummable.  I also disagree with the assessment that the King’s role was elegant, menacing, and complex; it simply came across as someone who wanted to accomplish an end regardless of the means.  Nonetheless, Ildar Abdrazakov did an admirable job.  His lowest notes were a bit on the weak side, though.

Jane Seymour, sung by Ekaterina Gubanova, had an important role in the opera also.  She basically had Act 1, Scene 2 all to herself.  I don’t know Gubanova’s background, and most of her engagements this years are in Europe.  Characterized as a mezzo-soprano, roles available to hear are perhaps a bit  limited.  If she can reach the high notes required of Anne Boleyn, she can do a great job as Anna Bolena, I am sure.  Right now her roles seem to be along the lines of someone like Stephanie Blythe.

Anna Netrebko, whom we heard in Don Pasquale, had a strong voice that carried well in the auditorium.  She could be clearly heard while seated, lying on her side, and – most impressively – with her back to the audience.  Having seen a few mad scenes, including the one in Lucia di Lammermoor, I was curious how this would turn out.  Instead of the feared embarrassment of over-emoting by the singer, I found it done just right.  One feels sorry for the character.

We could see the singers reasonably well with binoculars.  And every time I looked, Netrebko had a scowl on her face, or her eyebrows were knotted together.  Even during the mad scene, where she resolved to not condemn the new couple so she could obtain grace from God, she still looked mad.  She sang “forgive, forgive, forgive,” but her face said “curse, curse, curse.”  I don’t know if it is because she doesn’t quite know how to act (I heard quite a few people murmur that sentiment,) or the director wants it that way, but I think the overall performance will greatly improve if different emotions are incorporated.  I can easily imagine wistfulness, regret, and other aspects thrown into the mix.

This is the first time the opera was produced by the Met, which is quite unexpected.  On the other hand, if you read the articles in the playbill, you would think this is one of the greatest operas ever written, with phrases like “masterpiece of operatic insight” sprinkled all over.  That would lead to the question of “why is this only discovered by the Met more than 180 years after it was premiered?  A bit of hyperbole, no doubt.

Overall, I stand by my earlier statement that this performance met my high expectations.  I believe tonight’s performance was the second, and there will be another nine – the Met is certainly planning to get a lot of mileage from it.

The opera was on the long side, starting at 7:35 pm, and we got out at around 11:20 pm.  It was raining, and we only had one umbrella, so I went to pick up the car from the garage and returned to Lincoln Center to pick up Anne.  Traffic, especially close by the Lincoln Tunnel entrance, was quite congested.  We didn't get home until way past midnight.  We will do this again tomorrow, to see a New York Philharmonic concert.

There are quite a few references in the newspapers about this program.  One example is from Financial Times, which gave it 3 stars out of 5.  The reviewer manages to be pickier than I am.

Mostly Mozart Festival Orchestra – Jeremie Rhorer, conductor; Betrand Chamayou, piano. August 23, 2011.

Avery Fisher Hall at Lincoln Center, Orchestra Right (Seat T112, $50).

Program
Symphony No. 22 in E-flat major (“The Philosopher”) (1764) by Joseph Haydn (1732-1809).
Piano Concerto No. 12 in A major, K.414 (1782) by Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart (1756-1791).
Symphony No. 29 in A major, K.201 (1774) by Mozart.

This is the third of the Mostly Mozart concerts that we went to. As I type this (Thursday evening) the threat of Hurricane Irene is all over the news, forecast to hit the area directly late Saturday. That would ruin any plans we might have harbored for the season finale, which we were somewhat inclined to do after these three rather enjoyable concerts.

The problem with three concerts in rapid succession is that they tend to blend into each other. Although we went only two days ago, I will have to work very hard to reconstruct how I felt about the concert (we shall see as I didn't jot down any notes.)

Haydn was a contemporary of Mozart’s. Of course Haydn was 20-some years Mozart’s senior, and Mozart died 18 years before Haydn did. The Program Notes indicates that they were rather good friends. I studied Mozart (as part of a German course) when in college, I thought the two didn’t meet that often, and that Haydn’s first reaction to Mozart was on the aloof side. Be that as it may, Haydn chose to stay with a steady employer while Mozart decided to free-lance. Haydn thus had to compose rather prolifically to generate enough fresh music for the Esterhazy court, including more than 80 symphonies. These symphonies tended to be rather short (this one is 16 minutes) and could work with a small orchestra.

This symphony is unusual in that it uses English horns rather than oboes, and uses a slow-fast-slow-fast arrangement for its four movements (the movements being Adagio, Presto, Menuetto and Finale: Presto). Together with the gravity of the music, the symphony is referred to as “Der Philosoph.”

Rhorer, a young French conductor, led a spirited and enjoyable rendition of the symphony. My only beef is, did he need to be so animated? While I don’t expect him to be as economical in his movements as a Toscanini or a Fiedler (admittedly I never saw these maestros in person), Rohrer reminded me of this 3 year kid who was a YouTube sensation.

The Mozart Piano Concerto is a familiar one, and Chamayou, another French musician, did it reasonably well. Certainly his approach was much more balanced than Juho Pohjonen, whom we heard last week. He and the conductor together put together an enjoyable performance. The movements are the traditional Allegro, Andante, and Rondeau: Allegretto. Chamayou also played Mozart’s cadenzas.

Another fact relayed by the Annotator (Paul Schiavo in this case) was that Mozart was an admirer of Johann Christian Bach, son of Johann Sebastian, and that Johann Christian had passed away recently. Some musicologists think Mozart quoted from JC Bach’s work, some are not so sure. Interesting, maybe. Germane? Not so sure.

Mozart wrote his 29th Symphony when he was barely 18, while he was still employed in the court of the prince-archbishop of Salzburg. As in the case of Haydn’s symphony, Mozart had a small orchestra of around 20 musicians. He certainly did wonders with such a small ensemble. The symphony is well-known for the descending octaves in the first and last movements. It seems everything clicked for this reading by the orchestra. Only complaint was maybe it was a bit rushed, so the orchestra didn't sound as crisp as it could. The movements are Allegro moderato, Andante, Menuetto, and Allegro con spirit.

I guess my worry at the beginning of this blog is correct: I don’t remember much about the concert, except in very general terms. Enjoyable, but not memorable.

We managed to find off-street parking after circling the block a few times. Also, Atrium just sent out an email about discounts for tomorrow’s concert (I was talking about the Saturday one earlier). Perhaps we will give that a try. Stay tuned.

Note added on 8/30. We ended up not going on Friday, among other things we needed to do was to get the boat prepared for the hurricane. We did hear a bit of the live broadcast (most of the Schubert piece) on WQXR. This will be our last concert this season. Next season will start in late September with Met's Anna Bolena. And I will be starting another scrap book then.

Mostly Mozart Festival Orchestra – Louis Langree, conductor; Nelson Freire, piano. August 20, 2011.

Avery Fisher Hall at Lincoln Center, Orchestra Right (Seat D6, $50).

Program
Symphony in C (1938-40) by Stravinsky (1882-1971).
Piano Concerto No. 4 in G major, Op. 58 (1804-06) by Beethoven (1770-1827)

Anne had to go to a volunteer meeting in Flushing earlier today, so she drove the car in. I met up with her and her co-worker Vivian in Flushing. They ran about an hour late, though, so we couldn’t make it to the 7 pm free concert. We had dinner at Ollie’s.

Our seats were not the best, being the fourth row from the stage, and a bit to the right, thus directly below the second violin section. I experimented with the M|M website for next week’s program, and one could only get “best available” seats which are B2 and 4, even worse. The upside of this was we could hear the piano very clearly.

The Program Annotator (David Wright) for these M|M concerts certainly speaks more to my level, although one could argue a bit if his observations were a bit contrived, especially when it came to Beethoven’s concerto. I will touch on this later in this blog.

Per Wright, Stravinsky looked at composing music as a job more than as an expression of his emotion. The Symphony in C was written during a period when his daughter, his wife, and his mother passed away within six months or so, the first two from tuberculosis (Stravinsky himself was diagnosed with the disease that year). Yet the composer said an attempt to look for personal emotion would be in vain. The composition of music, however, did help him recover.

Compared to what we heard a few days ago (Symphonies of Wind Instruments) this is clearly a more traditional symphony. It even contains the usual four movements: Moderato alla breve, Larghetto concertante, Allegretto, and Largo – Tempo giusto, alla breve. There evidently is quite a bit of debate on whether Stravinsky meant for this to be a “real” symphony, or just a more complex version of ballet music. My vote is with the latter. The piece certainly isn’t easy to perform, at least for this orchestra, but the relatively limited range of emotions and the repetitions of several basic motifs support the argument that this is not a symphony in the manner of other masters such as Mozart or Bruckner. Knowing the situation Stravinsky found himself in at the time, one could attribute some emotion to the end, despite the composer’s statement that it is not so.

Our seats allowed us to hear the second violins clearly. For some reason one of them came across particularly clearly during this piece. Good thing she played very well. She wasn’t particularly loud, nor did she move around more than the others (unlike our “heart-attack” violist in the Philharmonic), so an individual’s ears may be tuned to particular timbres.

Since Nelson Friere won a piano competition with Beethoven’s Emperor Concerto in 1957, and began his international career in 1959, one would think he must be in his 70s. Turns out he was born in 1944 and thus a mere 66 years old: another of these Every Ready Bunny child prodigies.

Beethoven also wrote this concerto during a turbulent period in his life (of course most periods in Beethoven’s life were turbulent). Among other things, he was going deaf. Annotator Wright describes some of the passages as a dialogue of Beethoven’s better self with his inner demons (especially the second movement), I am quite sure this is an after-the-fact interpretation and Beethoven didn’t say “Ah, let me fight with myself.” In any case, much of Beethoven’s music shows this sort of stark contrast and juxtaposition. Nonetheless, thinking of the music this way makes it much more interesting. Awareness of this fact sheds new light as one listens to the outbursts of the orchestra and the quiet passages of the piano in the second movement. The Program Notes also indicates the C major start of the third movement is the wrong key for a concerto in G major. I never understand statements of this sort. Perhaps I would appreciate the difficulty if I knew my composition techniques more, but in this case Beethoven managed to move along seamlessly with a couple of short phrases in the strings.

All this technical analysis doesn’t detract from the fact that this was an enjoyable performance. Again, our seats allowed us to hear the piano clearly; while it was never overwhelming, you do wish the orchestra could keep up, or the balance between the soloist and the orchestra could work out better. We heard this live last year (Ohlsson and Orpheus) and the year before (Ax and New York Philharmonic). I don’t think I would discuss this performance as effusively as I did Ax’s. But it was very good. For the record, the movements are Allegro moderato, Andante con moto – Rondo: Vivace.

It didn’t take much applause to prod Friere into encores. I am quite sure his first one was a Chopin Nocturne, with the repetitive left hand accompaniment and the mixing of beats in the two hands; the second one sounded American, Copland perhaps? We left after the second one, he did continue (I won’t know how many.)

With M|M concerts, I take the attitude of just go and enjoy. Tonight’s concert exceeded expectations. The New York Times Review identifies the encores by Freire, he played a couple of pieces by a Brazilian composer, of course.

We drove to Flushing to drop Vivian off, and still managed to get home by about 11:30 pm, even though traffic was a bit on the heavy side.

Mostly Mozart Festival Orchestra – Jonathan Nott, conductor; Juho Pohjonen, piano. August 16, 2011.

Avery Fisher Hall at Lincoln Center, Orchestra Left (Seat S106, $50).

Program
Symphonies of Wind Instruments (1920, rev. 1947) by Stravinsky (1882-1971).
Piano Concerto No. 23 in A major, K.488 (1786) by Mozart (1756-1791).
Symphony No. 4 in B-flat major, Op. 60 (1806) by Beethoven (1770-1827).

Because of our travels, we would only be home during the second half of the festival, which mostly takes place in August. So far I have bought tickets to three of the remaining four concerts, all at 50% off (plus service fee) from Goldstar. Atrium Discounts now offers them at 50% off also, but too late, unless it works out for the festival finale at the end of next week. In any case, the concert hall was reasonably full (third tier was roped off), I assume most people didn’t pay full price.

The wise people of the M|M committee thought it would make sense to explore the connection between Stravinsky and Mozart, and all three of the concerts indeed have pieces by Stravinsky in it. There are a couple of interesting tidbits of information. Evidently Stravinsky had made a rather caustic statement about Mozart’s symphonies, saying they would be fine if the development sections are cut out. Harlow Robinson (whose article Mozart/Stravinsky: 1791/1971 appears in the Playbill) says the two composers mirror each other. Turns out on our way back home we were listening to this treatise analyzing Ives’ music, and the analysis there was more the imagination of the writer rather than what Ives’ sought to do. Similar sentiments from me in the Mozart/Stravinsky case.

The first piece was performed by 21 woodwind and brass players, plus the conductor. The construction of the piece was simple as the intent was to highlight how different groups of voices (thus the title) would sound. Also, Stravinsky wrote this as a tribute to Debussy who died a couple of years earlier. I find the construction of the music relatively simple, the dynamic range rather limited, and the melodies – while tonal – rather pedestrian (nothing like say The Rite of Spring). At the end (maybe 30 seconds) I did hear some emotion come through, but it was too little, too late. This somehow reminds me of Dumbarton Oaks, another work by Stravinsky that I don’t find particular appealing. Supposedly Balanchine choreographed this into a ballet, and the music will evoke definite images for those who have seen the ballet.

I didn’t know Mozart reserved some piano concertos for his own exclusive use. The one we heard today was one of them. The Program Notes calls it a “middle child” (of K.482, 488, and 491) and points out there are no trumpets or timpani, and uses clarinets instead of oboes. All well and good.

The pianist is described as “one of the brightest young instrumental talents to emerge from Finland” in the Program Notes. From where we sat he looked like a teenager at first glance, but a bit older on closer examination. Since he started “junior academy” in 1989, I guess he would have to be in his 30s. His playing is best described as “all right hand” (perhaps a fairer description is “mostly right hand”). The melody is well articulated, but the rest of the score seems to play only a supporting role. I usually say I like Mozart “crispy” (which he achieved) but I realize I took “balanced” for granted. He also had some problems with several runs. On the other hand, Mozart is always enjoyable (even though I sometimes fall asleep during the slow movements) and this was no exception.

The movements of the concerto are Allegro, Adagio and Allegro assai. Mozart’s cadenza was performed.

Beethoven started his fourth symphony around 1803, but the work kept getting interrupted and eventually displaced by another symphony, which also became the actual fourth. The original one ended up being his famous fifth. Thus this symphony is also in some way a middle child, nestled between two well-known works. I don’t have it in my CD collection, and wasn’t familiar it.

The Program Notes contains a good description of the construction of the movements, which I find very useful. I do have a little problem with the last sentence “The music takes on a perpetual-motion momentum, which is what makes the hesitant, teasing coda so agonizingly effective.” Turns out the coda was very short – certainly shorter than the time it takes to read the sentence; case of a writer not wanting a good line to go to waste. The four movements are (i) Adagio – Allegro vivace; (ii) Adagio; (iii) Allegro molto e vivace – Un poco meno allegro; and (iv) Allegro ma non troppo.

One feels this level of playing is about at the limit of the orchestra’s capability. There was a line which calls for a seamless interleaving of wind and string instruments which was botched quite badly. The 16th note runs, especially in the last movement, could properly be called atrocious. And the timpani, it was out of tune lots of times. I don’t know if it was the tuning, or how it was hit, but the effect was the equivalent of scratching a chalkboard with one’s fingernail.

A short note on the conductor, whom we saw a couple of times before (quite a few years back though.) I thought he elicited a good performance from the orchestra, especially the Mozart piano concerto where the dynamics was superb.

One goes to a M|M concert to enjoy an evening, not to engage in an intellectual critique of the program or the performance (even though that can’t be helped); a little summer music, if I might paraphrase. In that the Festival succeeds quite well. I think I will enjoy the upcoming concerts also. Here is the New York Times Review.

Linden Quartet. 7/26/2011.

Richardson Auditorium in Alexander Hall, Princeton University, Row 2, Balcony Center Left.

Quartet members: Sarah McElravy, violin; Catherine Cosbey, violin; Eric Wong, viola; Felix Umansky, cello.

Program
String Quartet No. 16 in E-flat Major, K. 428 Wolfgang Amadeua Mozart
String Quartet in F Major (1903) Maurice Ravel
String Quartet in A minor, Op. 41, No. 1 (1842) Robert Schumann

Because of our travel schedule, this last one was the only concert we could make out of the four Princeton put out this summer. As usual, David and Vivien got the free tickets for us, and we had dinner at Panera Bread, which continues to do a brisk business. It had been quite hot the past couple of weeks, but it cooled down a bit today, so it was a pleasant evening. Our one concern was that we would have to leave the house at 8:30 am the following day to catch a flight to Quebec, so didn’t want to get home too late.

During dinner Vivien showed us a picture taken in October, 2005, the first time we went to a Princeton concert together. The four of us had dinner at Alchemist and Barrister. I looked younger, and heavier, then (so did the others), and had considerably more black in my already-thinning hair.

The quartet is currently in residence as the Graduate Quartet at Yale. The members all appear to be quite young (early 30s?).

Before they began the program, Cosbey (second violin) explained a bit about the Mozart quartet being one of the six “Haydn Quartets” he wrote in honor of his mentor. Knowing that, it was relatively easy to see how the quartet relates to Haydn’s style. The opening line is very chromatic (instead of tonal) in that 9 of the 12 notes are used in the first phrase (which I counted to be 10 notes long). The theme was repeated several times, and I eventually could come to terms with its being Mozartian. In general it is a delightful piece of music, easy on the ears and the mind, and calls for relatively equal partnership among the instruments, which is rare for quartets in my experience, and even rarer for Mozart. The four movements are Allegro no troppo, Andante con moto, Menuetto & Trio, and Allegro vivicae.

My first reactions were: (1) great balance among the instruments, the viola’s sound is unusually clear; (2) why did they have to take all the repeats (David and I argued a bit whether this was true), making the piece about 40 minutes long; (3) the group as a whole sounded surprising weak, especially given how close we were to the stage; and (4) they oftentimes had to tune their instruments between movements, and would take a long time to do so.

Before the Ravel piece, McElravy (first violin) did the introductory notes. Ravel went to the Paris Conservatory and wrote this piece as his exit composition. His teacher Gabriel Faure didn’t like it and had rather harsh words about it; his fellow student, Debussy, however, said it was great and said Ravel shouldn’t even try to change one note. While Faure still has compositions in the repertoire of today’s musicians (I especially like The Requiem), he is nowhere as well-known as Ravel or Debussy. The four movements are Moderato tres doux, Assez vif-Tres rythme, Tres lent, and Vif et agite.

This is an interesting piece, with lots of doubling between a high and low instrument (first violin and viola, for instance), and lots of use of the pizzicato, with the second movement comprising of nearly all pizzicato by the players. The last movement, a kind of free-for-all frenzy, was both enjoyable and exhilarating.

It was about 9:10 pm when we got to the intermission. Now it was Wong’s turn (he is the violist) to describe Schumann’s work. Schumann had this habit of concentrating on one particular type of music (songs, chamber music, e.g.) for several years. He for instance wrote 160+ songs within a couple of years after marrying Clara. This piece was written during his “chamber music” phase.

After the first movement, the violist walked out. We were wondering why: was he upset? Did he break a string? It turns out he had a nose bleed and had to take care of it. The cellist got to kill a bit of time by cracking a couple of rather funny jokes. Wong eventually returned and the quartet completed the program. It was generally quite well-played, but unfortunately more memorable for the break. I guess they can have instruments on stand-by, but not other musicians.

The concert could have gone much better, but with the long breaks between movements, the nose bleed, and this kid and her mother sitting behind us who didn’t whisper as softly as they thought, the overall experience was just so-so. I guess one can only overlook so much during a live performance, and eventually these small things add up to a major negative.

If this group gets the right amount of tutoring, I am sure they can do very well. They still deserved the hearty applause they got, even with all my criticisms. It was close to 10:30 pm when the concert concluded, so we got home quite late. (I am typing this the following day, in Canada.) After we got settled and prepared for our trip, I got about 4 hours sleep last night.

New York Philharmonic – Bramwell Tovey, conductor; Kirill Gerstein, piano. June 29, 2011.

Avery Fisher Hall at Lincoln Center, Orchestra 1 (Seat OO06, $27.50).

Program
Waltz from Masquerade (1941) by Khachaturian (1903-78).
Piano Concerto No. 1 in B-flat minor, Op. 23 (1874-75; rev. 1889) by Tchaikovsky (1840-93).
Valse de concert No. 2 in F major, Op. 51 (1894) by Glazunov (1865-1936).
Polovtsian Dances from Prince Igor (1875) by Borodin (1833-87).

This was one of the Summertime Classics concerts that NY Philharmonic organizes after the end of each concert season. The Yangs had tickets for it, and I decided to join them since Anne was in Washington DC. (Turns out Anne decided to come home early, but she got a ride from Ellie from Metropark, so it all worked out.) I got a discounted ticket from Goldstar.com. We drove up in Chung Shu’s car, and had a quick dinner at Ollie’s.

This is an all-Russian concert, with a Russian-born pianist. Tovey is the music director of the Vancouver Philharmonic and (as far as I know) has been conducting these Summertime Classics concerts for several years. While I am curious as to why/how he gets a long-term commitment from the organization, I certainly am okay with it. I have seen him a couple of times, and he always talks a bit about the music before it is played; his remarks were pedagogical and funny.

The Waltz by Khachaturian is pleasant to listen to, and as with most waltzes, repeats its themes quite a few times. It was last played by the NY Philharmonic in 1973.

I am very familiar with Tchaikovsky’s piano concerto (as most music listeners are, for sure). Actually I used to be able to hum the entire piece (the melodies, such as they were). I realized to my amazement somewhere in the middle of the performance that I didn’t recall hearing it live ever. It was performed last year at NY Phil by Lang Lang (New Year’s Eve concert).

This concert illustrates why there is a huge difference between listening to a CD and to a live concert. While I knew this is a virtuoso piece from the recording, the live performance gave me a much better idea how technically challenging the music is, and worrying about the soloist stumbling leaves one sitting on the edge of the seat. Most CDs are engineered so extensively that the balance is always perfect; with a live performance, the soloist and orchestra adjust to each other constantly. Also, in the case of this concerto, the music sounded much more discordant than what you hear on a recording.

It was a well-played performance. While Gerstein was born in Russia, he spent a lot of time in the USA, got his education at Boston’s Berklee School and New York’s Manhattan School of Music. He is now an American citizen and holds a teaching position in Germany. I enjoyed especially his dynamic range and phrasing, which made for very interesting listening.

After the intermission, Tovey jokingly told the audience had Glazunov called the Waltz by any other name than the unimaginative “No. 2” it would have been much more popular. I am not sure if had been called (say) “Waltz for Acrobats on the Steppes of Russia” that it would have attracted that many people as a headliner piece. Not that it is not delightful. The work was composed in 1894, and the Program Annotator evidently couldn’t find anything about its early performance history. And this is the first time the New York Philharmonic played the piece.

I probably knew Borodin was a chemist, but didn’t realize (or forgot) that music composition was his part-time job. Interesting. If you ask people what they know of Borodin, the vast majority will probably say he is a composer. Prince Igor is an opera he worked on for many years, but didn’t finish (he died suddenly). The opera was completed eventually by various composers, including Rimsky-Korsakov and Glazunov, who made quite a few changes even to parts Borodin wrote. Supposedly these dances were Borodin originals, suffering only minor editing by the subsequent composers. The tune “Strangers in Paradise” is from these dances, and it got repeated several times. It is a lovely tune, played lovelily (?) by the orchestra. I didn’t realize the pace was so fast, though.

As an encore, we heard a movement from The Nutcracker Suite.

A very pleasant way to start the summer, even though weather-wise it feels like the middle of summer already. I wonder why the concert is all-Russian. Last year’s Summertime Classic concert I attended was all-Russian also. The New York Times reviewer is very positive on the performance also. He pointed out there was only one rehearsal before the first performance (we heard the second one), and had more to say about the soloist.

American Ballet Theater – Shostakovich’s Bright Stream. June 11, 2011.

Metropolitan Opera House at Lincoln Center – Balcony (Seat F101, $43).

Conductor – Charles Barker; Zina – Veronika Part, Pyotr – Alexandre Hammoudi, Ballerina – Stella Abrera, Ballet Dancer – Cory Stearns, Dacha Man – Victor Barbee, Dacha Woman – Martine van Hamel, Galya the school girl – Gemma Bond, Milkmaid – Misty Copeland, Gavrilych inspector of quality – Roman Zhurbin.

Story. Zina and Pyotr are a married couple living on the Russian collective farm Bright Stream. A ballet troupe comes into town, and Zina discovers she and the ballerina were classmates at ballet school. Pyotr is taken with the ballerina. Meanwhile, an older Dacha couple come by and the man likes Zina while the woman likes the male ballet dancer. Zina and the ballet dancers decide to play a hoax; so we have Zina disguised as the ballerina to trick Pyotr; the ballerina as the ballet dancer to trick the Dacha woman; and the ballet dancer as Zina to trick the Dacha man. They all fall for the disguises. The Dacha man actually goes so far as to have a duel with the disguised ballerina. Everything eventually gets sorted out.

Early this afternoon Anne suggested that we go to Nyack to visit The Hopper House. We have been interested in this artist ever since our son gave us a print of his (Lighthouse at Portland Head) after we moved to our current house with a view of the Great Beds Lighthouse. We saw a couple of his paintings at the Chicago Art Institute, including The Nighthawks, and greatly enjoyed them. The exhibit concentrates on Hopper’s early years. While interesting, it contains only a few of his early works, many on loan from other museums (several from the Whitney in New York). The docents were quite friendly and helpful, and we did learn a few things about Hopper, including how his painting style changed over the years. The $15 admission fee is a bit on the high side, though.

We got done around 4 pm, and decided to head down to the City to see if we could buy discounted tickets for the evening’s ABT performance. Even though there were many seats available, half price tickets were not on offer. We got the cheap seats in the balcony. We did find off-street parking that cost us only $6 at the meter. Between a crafts fair at Lincoln Plaza and dinner at China Fun, it was not a long wait before the performance began at 8 pm.

Indeed the ballet was not well-attended. I estimate over half of the balcony and family circle seats were not taken. Our seats had great acoustics, but I would have preferred to be closer to the stage. This matters less with operas as I go mostly for the singing (and many opera singers don’t act that well), whereas with ballets it is important to see the dancers’ movements and expressions.

The ballet has an interesting history. Shostakovich was criticized severely by the Russian censors since this work supposedly reflects the idyllic peasant life in a bad light. It was revived by Alexei Ratmansky and the Bolshoi Ballet in 2003 (it was premiered in 1935), and the ABT first performed it in January, 2011, at the JFK Center in Washington, DC.

The story (as summarized in the synopsis) is quite complicated (perhaps convoluted), but is actually quite easy to follow. The “story” I wrote above skips several aspects, including: inspector of quality, dog, milkmaid, tractor driver, the accordion player, and the grim reaper. There is considerable humor in not naming many of the characters and calling them by interesting names such as “Anxious-to-Be-Younger-Than-She-Is Dacha Dweller”. The fact that Zina (Veronika Part) and the ballerina (Stella Abrera) are quite different in height helps. I did get confused sometimes by Pyotr (Alexandre Hammoudi) and the ballet dance (Gennadi Saveliev) since they are closer in stature; and their costumes are only slightly different.

I generally do not appreciate comedies as much as, say, tragedies. However, I did find this ballet enjoyable. Even though there was no suspense to the story, and one is pretty sure everything would turn out okay at the end, I still found the story fascinating as it unfolded. The Dacha-dwelling couple put out an especially funny performance. I do wish they would get more serious dancing roles as I am sure they are capable. Hammoudi is probably an up-and-coming star to be given this major role. During the pas de deux with Part he was a bit unsteady at times; nonetheless he generally did a good job. The two ballet dancers (Abrera and Stearns) have to dance as the opposite sex during Act II, generally they mimic the other sex pretty well. I am quite impressed with Stearns’s ability to stand and dance on his tiptoe (I guess the technical term would be "on point") quite well. In general, however, the lady dancer (Abrera) did a more convincing job.

Shostakovich’s music is uncharacteristically simple to follow – perhaps the storyline of the ballet helps to guide the listener. The melodies are very tonal, and close to being singable. The entire work didn’t feel nearly as heavy-duty as some of his other work (even compared to his Symphony No. 1 which I heard a couple of days before.) I have not heard any of his operas, yet I am sure his operas are not quite that easy to follow (I don’t even know if he wrote any.) In the pas de deux of Act II, the cello got quite a work out, and it was nicely done.

It was an enjoyable day overall. I am glad we got to see this ballet. I do hope it will remain in the ABT repertoire for a while despite the disappointing attendance. The New York Times Review is for another set of dancers, and contains a lot of interesting background information, including the fact that Ratmansky (the choreographer of this production) is Artist in Residence at ABT; of course I would know that if I had read the program more carefully.

New York Philharmonic – David Robertson, conductor; Deborah Voight, soprano. June 9, 2011.

Avery Fisher Hall at Lincoln Center, Orchestra 1 (Seat M115, $65).

Program
Symphony No. 1, Op. 10 (1924-25) by Shostakovich (1906-75).
The Isle of the Dead, Symphonic Poem after Arnold Bocklin, Op. 29 (1909) by Rachmaninoff (1873-1943).
Erwartung (Expectation), Monodrama in One Act, Op. 17 (1909) by Schoenberg.

This is an interesting concert, with all three pieces written in the early 20th century. We had tickets for a concert the following week but exchanged them because of an upcoming trip. It started out as a very hot day (it got as high as 100F), but a cold front came through while we were having dinner at Empire Szechuan, and the walk to the parking garage afterwards was delightful.

Shostakovich wrote this symphony when he was 19, as part of his graduation assignment from the St. Petersburg Conservatory, and as such a remarkable piece of work. It sounded much more complex than, say, comparable work of Schubert at this age. It was nonetheless “easy listening” although I am not sure there is a clear message to the music. Shostakovich’s later music tends to be somber and a bit on the dark side (at least most of what I have heard, notable exception being the ballet Bright Stream I saw a couple of days later.) Towards the end the timpani played these notes that are close together in range (maybe as little as a semitone apart); I wonder if that adjustment is done in real time, or were they tuned so close to each other.

The Program Notes mentions Shostakovich referring to this work as “Symphony Grotesque” with the scherzo suggesting skipping dancers perilously out of balance. The other remark says the work is tonal, in F, but hovering between F major or F minor. I frankly didn’t catch either. The four movements are Allegretto, Allegro, Lento (attacca) and Allegro molto.

We are seated in Row M. I am sure we have seated closer to the stage before, but today the music sounded very loud. I can imagine how ear-piercing it must be for someone on stage, especially for those who are close to the percussion and brass sections.

The Isle of the Dead is a painting done by Arnold Bocklin, who painted five versions.

Rachmaninoff was fascinated with the black and white reproduction of this work, but was disappointed by the color of the actual painting. He wrote the music before this, evidently. The piece is about 21 minutes long, starting with a 5/4 tempo for about 10 minutes before moving into 3/4 tempo. It got quite loud after another 5 or so minutes, and eventually got back to the original 5/4 tempo. That I got, but I missed the funeral chant at Dies Irae at the end of the piece.

The Program Notes quotes Rachmaninoff as saying music comes to him in one flash: “and they come: all the voices at once. Not a bit here, a bit there. All. The whole grows.”

There is speculation that Schoenberg wrote Erwartung possibly with the influence of what happened the previous year: his wife Mathilde had an affair with the painter Richard Gerstl. The story talks about a woman wandering in the forest looking for her lover, with different emotions running through her head, and eventually stumbles his murdered corpse. The original libretto implied that the woman murdered her lover, but that was edited out by Schoenberg.

The Program Notes thinks the composition is such that the audience, watching this emotional train-wreck without feeling that it is based in reality, will feel removed and turned into voyeurs. I had trouble following the words. One contributor is that I was so close to the stage that I had to snap my head up and down to read the surtitles and watch the artists. Another is that the words are difficult to fully digest. You get the meaning, but not necessarily the mood. Perhaps if I had studied the text a bit more before hand, it would have helped. For me it just turned out to be puzzling.

I have seen Deborah Voight a few times before (Helen of Egypt and a couple of Ring Operas, for example). Her singing is fine, but not what I would call refined. It is the same here. For some reason there seems to be only one volume setting: loud. I know she can definitely do soft. It is not like she is overwhelmed by the volume of the orchestra (although there were instances of that.) There were passages where she basically sang against one instrument and her voice was clearly the much stronger instrument (the violin, especially.) Half an hour of intensive singing is quite impressive, though.

The New York Times Review has an in-depth critique of Voight’s performance. The reviewer obviously in enamored with David Robertson, calling him “great” and “brilliant.” Well, at least he stopped short of saying that he walks on water.

American Ballet Theater – Neumeier’s Lady of the Camellias. June 3, 2011.

Metropolitan Opera House at Lincoln Center – Dress Circle (Seat A17, $66).

Conductor – Ormsby Wilkins; Roberto Bolle – Armand Duval, Mary Mills Thomas – Nanina, Clinton Luckett – The Duke, Olympia – Hee Seo, Julie Kent – Marguerite Gautier, Manon Lescaut – Gillian Murphy, Des Grieux – David Hallberg; Pianists – Koji Attwood (Acts I & II), Nimrod Peeffer (Prologue & Act II), Emily Wong (Act III).

Story. This is basically another retelling of the novel by Alexandre Dumas, fils, made famous by the Opera La Traviata. The protagonists are named Marguerite and Armand (Verdi renamed them Violetta and Alfredo), and the story is told as Armand’s reminiscene after Marguerite’s death. In the ballet she dies alone and her possessions sold off at auction. The ballet ends with Armand closing the dairy of Marguerite, which was handed to him by her maid Nanina. Intertwined in the plot is another ballet based on Manon Lescaut whose life parallels that of Marguerite.

By my nomenclature which associates a ballet with the composer of music, this should be titled “Chopin’s Lady of the Camellias” as all the music is composed by Chopin. However, Chopin clearly didn’t have this ballet in mind when he wrote his various piano pieces that ended up being used to accompany this ballet. Indeed Dumas wrote the novel in 1848, a year before Chopin’s death. John Neumeier first choreographed this in 1978, and the Programs Notes also attributes to him the lighting design. One would think another choreographer and lighting designer can come along and redo these things, but leave the story and music basically intact. Would the ballet still be considered Neumeier’s? If you go to Amazon.com and search for the music, you will find a 2007 DGG DVD entitled “Chopin – Die Kameliendame” which is how I would have called it. Strange genre, this ballet stuff.

I find the juxtaposition of Manon’s story quite confusing at times. That they tend to dress in different colors help, and I am glad Kent (Marguerite) and Murphy (Manon) look very different. If you simply want to enjoy the ballet dancers and Chopin’s music, it would have worked quite well. But if you want to follow the story, such as it is, then you will have some difficulty: you have both reminiscene and a second story going on, sometimes at the same time.

While searching the web for more information, Anne came across an article that panned this ballet. Among the criticisms is the choreography. I am not even close to being knowledgeable on what constitutes good choreography, yet I did find the dancing mostly uninspired. Without the help of that article, I won’t know why I feel that way. Being the skeptic, naturally I am not sure that’s the (sole) reason. This does not mean there wasn’t great artistry or athleticism, only that it wasn’t as consistent as I would expect.

The music, a Chopin Piano Concerto and various other works (preludes, nocturnes), fits the mood of the ballet. After all, Chopin was a great composer of Romantic music. Act I was basically Chopin’s Piano Concerto (not sure which one); Act II consisted of piano solos (no orchestra); and Act III had a slow movement from another concerto and various other pieces. The pianists did okay, making this a good concert to go to for the music alone.

I wouldn’t call this a great ballet, but there are touching moments, and I certainly enjoyed the 2 hour 45 minute performance (with an hour’s worth of intermission). Between the opera and the ballet, however, I would definitely opt for the opera.

This is Julie Kent’s 25th year with ABT. Tonight probably was the first night of the season for her, and that would explain the extended ovation for her and the many many bouquets of flowers given to her. She tried to acknowledge her coworkers, but the night properly belonged to her. I do feel a bit bad for Gillian Murphy since she had an important role as Manon and danced equally well. She has only 15 years, though, so it will be a while for her.

It was 11 pm when we picked up our car from the 62nd St garage, and West End Ave was unexpectedly busy. Well, relatively busy, since we got home before midnight.

I did find an interesting review of the ballet from last year. The principal dancers were the same. The reviewer isn’t kind, but has considerable insight into what she feels is wrong. NJ.com has a kinder review.

Leon Fleisher, piano; Jaime Laredo, violin. June 2, 2011.

92nd Street Y, Theresa L. Kaufmann Concert Hall, Orchestra (Seat R2, $57).

Program
Sonatina for Violin and Piano in G minor, D. 408 (1816) by Franz Schubert (1797-1828).
Sonatina for Violin and Piano in A minor, D. 385 (1816) by Schubert.
Chaconne from Partita No. 2 in D minor, BWV 1004 (1720, arr. Brahms for Left Hand 1877-78) by Johann Sebastian Bach (1685-1750).
“Sheep May Safely Graze” from Cantata No. 208 (1713, arr. Egon Petri 1944) by Bach.
Sonata for Violin and Piano in A major, D. 574, “Grand Duo” (1817) by Schubert.

We saw Leon Fleisher for the first time in Toronto this past April when the program he was to perform had to be modified to accommodate his right hand, which was recovering from surgery. When we found out he was going to perform that program at the 92Y we decided to give it another try, hoping that the hand would be fully healed by then. Evidently that wasn’t to be, we got an announcement a couple of weeks ago saying that Jaime Laredo will now be on the program, performing three works by Schubert. Turns out I saw Laredo, also for the first time, last April, so this was going to be a reunion of some sorts.

Today (i.e., day of the concert, I am writing this a day later) turned out to be a nice day, so naturally traffic began to back up starting mid afternoon. Chung Shu drove in and it was basically quite uneventful, with most delays caused by cross-town traffic. Shirley couldn’t go, and Daphne joined us instead. We had enough time to wolf down a sandwich before the concert.

All of Schubert’s four violin sonatas were published posthumously. He wrote a series of three when he was 19 (Program Notes say 20), and the publisher decided to call them sonatinas so they could reach a wider audience. We heard two of them tonight. While they were not particularly difficult (I am thinking of buying the music to give them a try), they are certainly serious enough pieces to warrant the designation of “sonata.” The last piece we heard was written a year later. It was very different from the first two, Schubert having matured a lot during that time.

The first piece (Sonatina in G minor) contains four movements: Allegro giusto; Andante; Menuetto: Allegro vivace; and Allegro moderato. The second Sonatina’s movements are: Allegro moderato; Andante; Allegro; and Allegro. The Sonata in A major’s movements are: Allegro moderato; Scherzo:Presto; Andantino; and Allegro vivace.

The Program Notes contains good descriptions of the pieces, and I find the sudden changes in mood of the works especially fascinating. Indeed Schubert seemed to be able to, say, go from a major key to a minor key and back to the major key in one line without the music feeling abrupt or disjoint.

In general the musicians sounded good, although both were unsteady at times, and Laredo sometimes had an intonation problem. I am not into chamber music as a listener, and I find it difficult to determine what makes a great performance. I guess one tries to enjoy the individual artists as well as how they work together. In that regard things worked quite well.

The two piano pieces left quite a bit to be desired. Fleisher has a compelling story, staging a comeback in his 70s from an adversity that effectively sidelined him as a soloist for 40 or so years. If one didn’t know whom he was listening to, one would conclude the performance was sloppy, and some rather simple passages were botched. As far as I could tell, the Bach/Petri piece is relatively simple, yet sounded muddled in several places. In that sense Fleisher had a better performance in April in Toronto.

After Brahms arranged the Chaconne for piano left hand, he wrote to Clara Schumann saying how pleased he was with what he had done. The Program Notes quoted the sentence “Now if the greatest violinist is not around, then the best enjoyment is probably just to let it sound in one’s mind” is puzzling. One could ask the question, if Brahms was talking so effusively about the violin piece, why would he bother to transcribe it into a piano piece? The notes at the Toronto concert says Brahms thought it wouldn’t sound quite right if he transcribed it for both hands, thus the decision to do it for the left hand only. The violin and the piano are very different instruments, with the piano being a percussive one. It is difficult, if not impossible, for one instrument to mimic the other well. How one gets the effect of harmony and counterpoint on one instrument is different from how they are generated in the other. While the mimicry worked well in some passages, most of the time it left one scratching one's head. We listened to the violin piece on our return trip (I have it in my iPod) and the piece hangs together very well as written. I can understand writing a piano piece (one hand or two) based on the violin piece, but in this case a transcription didn’t work. There, I critiqued Brahms!

Having said that, there were a couple of places where the counterpoint worked very well.

I have mixed feelings about this performance. The audience was not particularly quiet or circumspect tonight, and someone sitting behind me started a discussion with his friend with “I know his story is compelling, but …” Also, Fleisher is in his 80s, and I assume the physical challenges of piano playing must be catching up with him (surprising little, if his left hand is any indication.) His story is admirable, but at some point one has to concede. Since Fleisher didn't explain why there was a program change, as he had done in Toronto, pity doesn't seem to be something he wants. Reality is harsh.

Turns out I also had one of Fleisher’s early Beethoven recordings (Emperor Concerto) on my iPod and played a bit of it during our drive. It was marvelous.

PBS Great Performance Broadcast – Carnegie Hall’s 120th Anniversary Concert. May 31, 2011.

South Amboy, NJ

Program
Carnival Overture by Dvorak
Triple Concerto by Beethoven
--- Yo-Yo Ma, cello; Gil Shaham, violin; Emanuel Ax, piano
Songs by Duke Ellingthon
--- Solitude
--- Sophisticated Lady
--- It don’t Mean a Thing
--- Audra McDonald, soloist
An American in Paris by Gershwin

This program was performed by New York Philharmonic, with Alan Gilbert conducting, as part of the celebration of Carnegie Hall’s 120th Anniversary. The actual performance occurred on May 6, I believe. Anne and I saw the PBS broadcast in the comfort of our house.

I usually can’t sit through a TV program such as this, but certainly had no trouble doing so with this one. The program lasted less than 90 minutes, which is typically the amount of music one gets to hear in a concert. One good thing is that they didn’t show chairs being reshuffled in between pieces, nor was there an intermission.

To me, writing a review about it would be weird, and I don’t intend to do so. Not much, anyway. Even though it is a recording of a live performance, the balance of the soloists and the orchestra can be worked out such that every part sounds clear. You don’t get that great balance sitting in the auditorium. And the brass instruments sounded excellent.

One other remark I want to make is about Beethoven’s Triple Concerto. The three soloists certainly worked very well together, and Yo-Yo Ma seemed to enjoy himself tremendously. The New York Times Review pointed out Beethoven never wrote a cello concerto, and many cellists consider this work to be the closest approximation to one. Dicterow excused himself, but Brey didn’t; and Ma didn’t shake the principal cellist hand effusively (as he did at the concert late last year.)

NYT says McDonald sang four songs; I remember only three, and don’t recall falling asleep. Missing from my list is "On a Turquoise Cloud."

The NYT review is quite informative. The reviewer wanted more contemporary music for the program; I thought it was just right (well, I had to "suffer through" the Ellington pieces, jazz not being a favorite genre of mine). 120 years ago it was to mark the “birth” of the concert hall, and no one had any idea how its role in classical music would evolve, so there was really not much to guide the program. After more than a century, there is certainly a rich history to remember the place by. One could even argue perhaps they should perform the pieces that got played most often in the Hall’s history. Now that I mentioned it, I wonder what they are.

Tickets for the actual concert were quite expensive, and people were dressed more formally than usual for an evening concert in New York. I am not sure I am comfortable with that, even though I would have found the concert very enjoyable.

American Ballet Theater – Adolphe Adam’s Giselle. May 27, 2011.

Metropolitan Opera House at Lincoln Center – Dress Circle (Seat E14, $75).

Conductor – Charles Barker; Giselle – Diana Vishneva, Count Albrecht – Marcelo Gomes, Hilarian – Gennadi Saveliev, Berthe – Susan Jones, Peasants (pas de Deux) – Maria Riccetto & Jared Matthews, Myrta – Veronika Part, Moyna – Isabella Boylston, Zulma – Yuriko Kajiya.

Story. Giselle falls in love with Count Albrecht, who disguises himself as the peasant Loys. Hilarion the huntsman is also in love with Giselle, and finds out the true identity of Loys. When Giselle finds out, and that Albrecht is also engaged to be married to someone else, she dies of a broken heart. She becomes a wili, a restless spirit who has died with her love unrequited, and is initiated into the wili sisterhood by the queen Myrta. These wilis roam the earth at night and kill any males they trap by forcing them to dance to their deaths. Hilarion is killed this way. When the wilis trap Albrecht, Giselle protects him by staying with him until the clock strikes four, at which point the wilis lose their power. Albrecht is thus rescued.

Today is the day before the Memorial Day Weekend, and all the traffic reports were indicating tie-ups at the various Hudson Crossings and in New York City. We decided to try to drive in and left a bit before 5 pm (the performance was to start at 7:30 pm), and got to the parking garage at around 6 pm, the traffic tie-ups we encountered were minimal to non-existent. We ate at Sushi A-Go-Go. We hadn’t been there for a while, the prices didn’t seem to be much higher than we remembered them.

The ballet certainly is very well-known, and Anne claims many tunes should be quite familiar. That turns out not be the case. However, some tunes were used so many times that by the end of the ballet I wasn’t so sure anymore. Overall the music is disappointing; it has a very saccharine feel to it, sounding like what you would expect in a ballroom with light waltzes playing in the background. The orchestra’s lack of dynamic range also contributed to this assessment.

Those were a couple of the disappointments I felt after the first Act. The actual story contains more detail that the synopsis I wrote above, and the artists did more acting out the storyline than dancing a ballet performance. Yet things were confusing for me at many places. It is never made clear whether Giselle was engaged to Hilarion – which would raise a whole different set of issues. There were a couple of dances performed by Giselle that seemed quite difficult, and she did them well. The costume designer did a great job, the colors just looked great and well balanced. Giselle’s death scene somehow reminds me of Lucia’s mad scene in Lucia de Lammermoor. She dropped to the ground at least four times before she died; even though I didn’t want her to die, I still couldn’t but wish “die already.”

I was ready to conclude that what we have is a light-weight ballet, light-weight music, light-weight orchestra, and a light-weight cast, which probably is a good combination for a light-weight viewer (like myself.) And as such it was an enjoyable Act I.

The second Act, however, saw a lot more serious ballet. We saw Veronika Part as Odette/Odile in Swan Lake a few years ago, and she was the headliner for this performance. She played the role of Myrta in this ballet and had a relatively limited role. In any case, there were a few more virtuoso performances by the principals, and the choreography was more traditional.

Overall, the ballet is okay, but didn’t quite live up to my perception of its reputation. It is, afterall, the “oldest continually-performed ballet,” premiering in Paris in June, 1841.

One other note, I called this piece “Adam’s Giselle,” as in “music by Adophe Adam.” I am not sure this is the proper attribution as one can argue many others played important roles in bringing the work together.

Hong Kong Philharmonic Orchestra – Dmitri Jurowski, conductor; Sol Gabetta, cello. May 14, 2011.

Hong Kong Cultural Center Concert Hall, Balcony (Seat I104, HK$320).

Program
Cello Concerto in B minor, Op. 104 (1896) by Dvorak (1841-1904).
Symphony No. 15 in A, Op. 141 (1971) by Shostakovich (1906-1975).

I was walking around in Causeway Bay yesterday and decided to see if there was anything interesting going on in the Classical music scene. So I went into Tom Lee and found this brochure on “Dvorak’s Cello Concerto.” I didn’t know the cellist, but the name “Jurowski” caught my attention. I see the name in Avery Fisher Hall a lot, but had never heard a concert by him, so I decided to go with it. After I bought the ticket, I realized that it was Vladimir whose name is all over town (New York City in this case) instead of Dmitri. Subsequent “research” (i.e., google search) led to the realization that Vladimir and Dmitri are brothers, and that their father Mikhail was also a conductor. (Thus the full name of Dmitri Mikhailovich Jurowski.) Vladimir is seven years older (born 1972) and, according to Wikipedia, took Dmitri to Germany in 1990. There is little mention of Vladimir in the writeup in today’s program, sibling rivalry, or too much of a shadow to live under, perhaps?

I thought the last time I heard the Dvorak concerto was the formidable combination of Yo-yo Ma, Gustavo Dudamel, and the Vienna Philharmonic. Turns out that wasn't the case (it was a Schumann concerto), and I actually couldn’t find any blog entry on this concerto. Nonetheless I was quite familiar with it, perhaps due to the many singable melodies in the piece. With that in mind, my imagination kind of dictated how a performance of this concerto should sound, and naturally tonight’s performance didn’t live close to that perception.

The concerto consists of three movements and lasts about 40 minutes. Brahms, who was one of Dvorak’s first admirers, famously said he would have written one had he known such great composition could be written. Indeed it is a beautiful work, if a bit on the simple side.

The first movement (Allegro) basically consisted of two themes with intervening development. It actually sounded very good, the cello coming across beautifully. The second movement (Adagio ma non troppo) was the most complex of the three movements, most of the time the lines were clean, but the timpani sounded muddled at times. The last movement (Finale: Allegro moderato) dragged on a bit, and the concertmaster had a solo passage that wasn’t particularly well-done. Dvorak rewrote the ending to reflect the sadness of mourning his sister’s death.

While the performance was generally good, and the cellist showed quite a bit of brilliance, there was something missing. One notable issue was the lack of coordination between the cellist and the orchestra. The latter seemed to be more of an accompaniment than an equal partner. The give and take between the soloist and the orchestra wasn’t consistent. Nonetheless, this is Dvorak, and any reasonable performance would be enjoyable.

Gabetta played an encore whose name I didn’t get. It was not so much a virtuoso piece (there were enough double stops and harmonics) as it was to showcase what sounds one could make with the cello. At some point she sang along (in harmony) with the playing. Interesting, but she should keep her regular job. The piece had potential: I am sure I would appreciate it more if I get to listen to it again.

Argentine-born Gabetta is quite young, but has been on the scene since 2004. She plays the "rare and precious" cello by G. B. Guadagnini from 1759. (I am writing this down for the record.)

The Program Notes describes this concert as one of endings. Dvorak’s was his last concerto, and Shostakovich’s was his last symphony. Shostakovich suffered from various diseases and indeed had a second heart attack soon after completing this, his last symphony. The symphony was also about 40 minutes long. However, the symphony wasn’t particular sad or macabre.

This symphony is what I would call a percussionist’s dream, listed in the instrumentation are: timpani, celesta, xylophone, triangle, glockenspiel, vibraphone, snare drum, castanets, woodblocks, and tam-tam. I think they missed the cymbals. And they had about five percussionist in addition to the timpani player.

The program notes says the London premiere of the piece drew laughter from the audience due to its frequent and often bizarre musical quotations. I would call them interesting, but not funny or bizarre. The first movement (Allegretto) had five references to the William Tell Overture, which Shostakovich claimed to be his first musical memory. There was quite a bit of violin solo also, and I have to say the concertmaster redeemed himself (he is actually the first associate concertmaster, there being no concertmaster listed in the roster). He figured prominently in this work, and generally did very well. Mention must also be made of the trombone, the playing was simply exquisite. The second movement (Adagio) is described as the emotional center of the symphony, and contained references to the 11th and 14th symphonies. Well, I do not know those two symphonies. It ended with a xylophone solo. The bassoons started the third movement (Allegretto) without pause, and it was rather short. The last movement (Adagio) began with a 3-note Wagner Ring Leitmotif which I recognized (or it is so simple that I am sure it was in the Ring) but didn’t know was called “fate.” At this point the orchestra seemed to have lost some of the energy of the earlier movements. You could anticipate the ending when the percussionists all started to move into position. Again I didn’t know the ending passage which was derived from the fourth symphony; but it was interesting that it was withheld by Shostakovich for 25 or so years due to its lack of political correctness.

The overall piece sounded much simpler than I expected, and Shostakovich – at least in this symphony – dished out solo lines to nearly all of the sections. Dmitri Jurowski was quite economical in his movements, but managed to elicit a good performance, by and large, from the players. His brother’s place in the musical scene seems secure, I wonder how it would turn out for him.

As to the orchestra, I am impressed with how they make Shostakovich look easy. Perhaps de Waart really has done something with the group. I hope whoever follows him will be equally effective.

Oh, there is none of this business of the concertmaster (and sometimes section leaders) excusing himself when there is a soloist. And it worked well.

I am glad I went. By the time I got back to Taipo, it was 11 pm.

The House of Dancing Water. May 9, 2011.

City of Dreams Dancing Water Theater, Macau, Section 300, Seat H311 (HK$680).

This is not a concert review.

Ling suggested this show as part of our short side-trip to Macau. Advertisements say the production costs $2B Hong Kong Dollars (about US$250M), so my curiosity is certainly piqued. The show is created and directed by Franco Dragone.

I came away thinking this is nothing more than an acrobat show over a large water tank with special audiovisual effects, and not the best acrobatic show at that. As to the $250M, it must be a bit like how the Metropolitan Opera’s Ring staging costs $15M: something not quite living up to the expectations that come with such huge budgets. And in this case I hope it includes the apparently purpose-built theater which I estimate seats a couple of thousand people (2000 seats per some web pages), otherwise someone got ripped off.

When you sit through the show, you know there is a story they are trying to tell. Indeed their official webpage does provide a plot. I didn’t read it before the show, and even after watching it I must say nothing remotely like what is described in the plot happens. You know there are good people and bad people, and that a hero is trying to reach a heroine, but you have no idea why he eventually succeeds. I can certainly tolerate a lot of missing lines and poetic license, but the actually enacted story is simply beyond redemption (well, a little strong, but not entirely unfair). I can’t avoid comparing this with a ballet which manages to tell a coherent story, usually.

The staging is quite impressive, though. They manage to move solid platforms onto the water surface very quickly, and on top of that put in many fountains. And the audio-visual effects are quite impressive. There are a lot of aerial activities with all kinds of wiring harnesses. I kept worrying things would get tangled up and to their credit that never happened. And there are some very high dives (maybe from over 100 feet) that are quite spectacular. The motorcycle show is also quite impressive, six of them zipping around a very small stage doing coordinated jumps. I image there is a lot of computer controls and those seem to work very well. Also, there must be a lot of physical demands on the athletes.

However, the “precision” aspects are not quite there. For instance, there is this cage with 20 or so athletes/dancers doing choreographed movements, but they all seem to be doing their own things. (Compare with ballet or synchronized swimming.) Now if I am hanging on someone’s arm while dangling 50 or so feet in the air, precision is perhaps not the first thing I concentrate on. But if they are not good enough to do that, they shouldn’t try.

A great disappointing is the music. It probably is original, but it is quite boring. In my view they should spend some funds commissioning someone to compose (say) musical-like music. What we have is an artificial blend of western- and oriental-style music. As in a Cirque de Soleil show, the music is a combination of live and taped. At curtain call the four musicians came out to take a bow.

The show uses a contortionist who can bend his limbs in strange ways and fit into small spaces. I usually getting a laugh by making fun of people that way somehow degrading, and feel the same way here. Of course that may be one way for the gentleman to make a decent living.

My overall opinion is this would be a good show if it doesn’t pretend to be more than its creators are capable of making it to be. In that sense it has many parallels with a CdS show, trying to go beyond a traditional circus or acrobat show, but not quite making it.

So, if you find yourself in Macau and really can’t think of anything to do, this show is for you.

Metropolitan Opera – Wagner’s Die Walkure. May 5, 2011.

Metropolitan Opera at Lincoln Center – Family Circle Seat I218 ($27.50).

Story. See previous blog.

Conductor – Derrick Inouye; Siegmund – Jonas Kaufmann, Sieglinde – Eva-Marie Westbroek, Hunding – Hans-Peter Konig, Wotan – Bryn Terfel, Brunnhilde – Deborah Voight, Fricka – Stephanie Blythe.

The Yangs couldn’t make this opera because of the birth of their granddaughter (good excuse), and they gave their tickets to CM and his daughter Faith. Because of President Obama’s plans to be in New York City, we were a bit worried about traffic so we left at around 3:45 pm for the 6:30 concert. I really wanted to drive in and park at Lincoln Center because the opera was going to end late at around 11:45 pm. Turned out there wasn’t really that much traffic, so we got to Lincoln Center at about 5 pm, and had enough time for me to buy tickets for a couple of upcoming ABT performances, and a quick dinner at Ollie’s.

In the Playbill there is an insert saying James Levine is ill, and Derrick Inouye will be conducting. I tend to believe these announcements, but recall a conversation with Sharon at another opera where they had a substitute for Gergiev where she insisted they put out these big names to attract patrons while planning to make the substitutes all along. If this happens again I will begin to adopt Sharon’s view.

The same 24x3 plank arrangement was used for the second of the Ring operas. Among the different scenes were: forest, Hunding’s house, rocks, mountain, and horses. Given where we sat (way up in the Family Circle section), the lighting gave a 3-dimensional effect to the flat surfaces. They had this painted-on feel to them; one could tell they were projections because of the shadows cast when people walked in front of them – most of the time they hid it well with spot lights on the people. Anne, who saw this set for the first time, was quite impressed. In fact the arrangements were simpler than those in Das Rheingold, but I am still somewhat impressed with what they managed to do with it. Still not worth the $15M. Even though the scenes still evoked Cirque de Soleil, they were not nearly as overt. No marching people, much less use of wires to suspend actors, and generally not as much rhythmic movement.

This is the third time I saw this particular opera. The first was about three years back, at the Met, with Lorin Maazel conducting, and Deborah Voight singing the role of Sieglinde (she is doing Brunnhilde this season). The second was part of the Seattle Opera Ring Cycle we went to a couple of years ago. I don’t remember it very well, but I think the Maazel performance was the best one. Perhaps other factors contributed to how I feel: it was the first Ring opera we saw, we were seated in a box which had a clear view of the conductor and how he engaged with the artists (even though they were partial view seats), the set was a “realistic” one so I didn’t have to spend mental energy conjuring things up, and I may simply go with the reputation of the conductor (can’t be, can it?).

In general the singers did very well. Teufel had a lot of lines and in general did quite well, although his voice was inexplicably weak in some places. Konig as Hundig sang strongly; Westbroek (Sieglinde) had a sweet voice and rendered an appropriately helpless Sieglinde caught up by fate. Kaufman, Voight, and Blythe all sang beautifully although Kaufman was weak compared to Konig.

The first act began a little slowly. There isn’t a lot of action in this act, so if one is not caught up in the story or the music then one has to struggle to stay away. I indeed found myself drifting off a couple of times. Things improved as the performance went on though, and some of the dialog in Acts 2 and 3 was very engaging.

One scene worth mentioning is the beginning of Act 3. The eight Valkyries were riding horses (inverted Vs formed by planks, naturally), and they slid down to the main stage. At first I couldn’t quite tell what they were doing, but via binoculars found out they were collecting skeletons into sacks; macabre, yet clever. And I also thought they would lead the dead warriors to Valhalla in human form. And the eight ladies could make a lot of noise. Many Wagner scholars (and some nuts) try to distinguish the characteristics of each of the eight Valkyries, I think it is a waste of time. (I may have remarked on this before, but I am inside a plane right now – CO99 Newark to Hong Kong – and don’t have access to my prior posts.)

Even though this is the third time I saw this opera, there were still things I didn’t know until now. Brunnhilde is actually the daughter of Wotan and Erda, and Hundig is the son of Albrecht the Nibelung. Just in this opera Wotan has three wives (third one being the twins’ mother), I wonder if he had others in the other three operas. I also didn’t know Brunnhilde explicitly told Sieglinde she would try to save Siegmund despite Wotan’s explicit instructions to the contrary (that would explain Wotan’s wrath). There is also a major inconsistency: Brunnhilde said another who saw her face would die, but that evidently didn’t apply to Sieglinde. The Program Notes also says this story happens on earth: not quite true as I assume the start of Act 3 took place in Valhalla. Interestingly I don’t remember being puzzled by references to Das Rheingold when I saw Die Walkure for the first time, I now have more questions about the consistency of the story. Also, what happened to Siegmund after he was killed, was he brought to Valhalla?

It also occurred to me one reason I am finding new things about the opera is that there were invariably periods I dozed off during a performance (it is five hours long, after all) so some details would elude me. Of course, being forgetful could also explain some (or most) of it.

One nice surprise was our seats were quite decent, given how inexpensive they were. The acoustics was good – understandable since we could practically touch the ceiling, and with a good pair of binoculars we could see quite a bit of details.

On our way back we got to talk about this a bit. Faith was particularly enthusiastic, wondering how these singers managed to sing for so long. She is taking voice lessons and is considering a major in voice in college. We were surprised how busy traffic was close to midnight, perhaps residual effects from the Presidential visit. We got home before 1 am, driving in and parking at Lincoln Center worked out for us.

Orpheus Chamber Orchestra with Arabella Steinbacher, violin. April 29, 2011.

Stern Auditorium at Carnegie Hall, Section Parquet Right (Row Y, Seat 14, $25).

Program
Serenade in E-flat major, Op. 7 (1881) by Richard Strauss (1864-1949).
Concerto funebre (1939, rev. 1959) by Karl Amadeus Hartmann (1905-1963).
Adagio in E major for Violin and Orchestra, K. 261 (1776) by Mozart (1756-91).
Rondo in C major for Violin and Orchestra, K. 373 (1871) by Mozart.
Symphony No. 104 in D major “London” (1795) by Haydn (1732-1809).

I am writing this blog before I start on last night’s New York Philharmonic performance. I didn’t take too much notes for this event, and would want to get my thoughts down while they are still fresh. I will post it after I post the Philharmonic review, so they will appear in proper chronological order.

We started driving a little after 5 pm (in the car with the fixed tire), and soon found out both in-bound tunnels had 30+ minutes – and growing - wait times. So we turned around, parked the car at the train station, and went up by train instead. We got to the Carnegie Hall area early enough that we could get a burrito at Chipotle’s before the concert.

The first piece of the evening was written by Strauss when he was seventeen, and his composition style was still very much influenced by classical composers such as Mozart, Haydn, and Beethoven. At least that’s what the program notes would have you think. They could have fooled me. While the sound was quite tonal, in no way did the composition sound like a piece from the Mozart/Beethoven school. Overall it sounded pleasant enough, and is downright amazing considering it was written by a seventeen year old young man (kid, actually). At that age I was trying to recognize what a I-IV-V-I cadence sounded like. Strauss would go on to write music for another 60 years, most of which I yet have to understand (or hear). The piece is orchestrated for woodwinds and four horns, thirteen players total. Yet the small group managed to sound tentative and muddled. The concert wasn’t off to a good start.

Arabella Steinbacher was born and raised in Germany (German father, Japanese mother). She looks younger than her age (30), and plays the “Booth” Stradivarius (1716) on loan from the Nippon Music Foundation. She got her break in 2004 when she was a last-minute substitute for another soloist who had gotten ill. I guess there are several examples of this (the conductors Bernstein and Morlot immediately come to mind), and not surprising given there must be many great musicians who do not get the chance to shine.

The concerto was written by the composer when the Nazis annexed Czechoslovakia; he called it Music for Mourning until it was revised in 1959 and given its current name. The music was smuggled out of Germany and got its premiere in Switzerland in 1940. (I do wonder why word didn’t get back to the Germans.) Per the program notes, it is mostly a dark piece and references old chorales, however, the sound is thoroughly modern. The demands on the violinist are considerable, but only limited range of techniques is called for (e.g., no left-hand pizzicato). Steinbacher played with gusto but a limited dynamic range. And “sad” or “hopeless” isn’t the emotion I would associate with the music. In that context the “hope” of the last two or so minutes didn’t come across in any dramatic way. Steinbacher’s biography says she got great reviews playing Sibelius’s Concerto, which to many describe the composer’s frustration and eventual accommodation with his own shortcomings as a violinist. I wonder how that sounded.

The movements of this concerto are Introduction: Largo – Adagio – Allegro di molto – Choral: Langsamer Marsch.

After the intermission, Steinbacher played two Mozart pieces that are familiar to the violin student. She did them well, but not exceptional. For an encore she played a rather difficult solo piece that clearly demonstrated her technical abilities. (She announced the piece in German, I think; and I failed to catch it.)

The one thing constant in her performance is the great sound she makes with the violin. It is amazing how a 300-year old instrument can take whatever an artist throws at it and still yield a clean and pleasant sound. There were times I worried something would break, though.

Haydn wrote a total of twelve symphonies while he was staying in London (on two separate occasions). Evidently people don’t quite know why No. 104 is called “London”. Compared to other Haydn symphonies I am familiar with (definitely not all of them), this is rather long at an advertised 29 minutes. And it felt that long, given the way the orchestra played it. Not because every now and then someone would come in early or sound too loud (and there were quite a few instances of those), but because “uninspired” is the best way to describe how it was played. When played well (or just reasonably well), Haydn’s symphonies are easy to understand, and a delight to listen to. Neither is the case here. These are not just my expectations, even the program notes uses words and phrases such as “organic connection”, “sweet”, “deceptively simple”, and “whim” to describe the composition. The movements of the symphony are (i) Adagio – Allegro; (ii) Andante; (iii) Menuetto: Allegro; and (iv) Finale: Allegro spiritoso.

This is the third Orpheus performance this season we attended, and I still haven’t gotten used to the orchestra’s sound yet. Even though the orchestra is on the small side, there is still considerable distance (physically and musically) between the last person in the violin section and the double bass section. While there may be few instances they need to adjust to each other during a performance, it illustrates the difficulties these players face if they need to do so. If after 40 years you can’t quite achieve unity in the sound, it may be time to try it with a conductor. But then there will be nothing special about the orchestra.

We left immediately at the conclusion of the Haydn Symphony, but still missed the train by 10 minutes; not so bad compared to times we missed by just a couple. We got home after midnight. The tradeoff is if you drive in, you worry about traffic, and if you take the train in, you worry if you will miss the train for the return trip.

I found a review of the same program played in Troy the day before. There the orchestra also played a couple of encores. In our case, we don't know if any encores were played by the Orchestra.

New York Philharmonic – Alan Gilbert, conductor; Emanuel Ax, piano. April 30, 2011.

Avery Fisher Hall at Lincoln Center, Orchestra 1 (Seat W116, $65).

Program
Pagodes from Estampes (Prints), for solo piano (1903) by Debussy (1862-1918).
Coleurs de la Cite Celeste (Colors of the Celestial City) (1963) by Messiaen (1808-92).
Symphony No. 5 (1901-02) by Mahler (1860-1911).

The original program listed all three pieces in the Estampes work, but the insert in the Playbill says only Pagodes will be played, then followed by Coleurs. Our puzzlement was answered later during the concert.

Alan Gilbert first talked about the program, describing how Coleurs is like a slide show, with its abruptly changing scenes. He also said Messiaen was basically a tonal composer, in his own sort of way, and that he liked to put in bird songs in his works. He demonstrated some of the ideas with a couple of passages played by the orchestra. When asked to add something, Emanuel Ax says Pagodes also painted a picture, in this instance of a Chinese city (Anne thought it should be Japanese, given what the program notes says), and one could clearly see things such as tiled roof tops. Well, I suspect for me they have to put the print right in front of me, since I don’t possess the same imagination as these artists evidently do. I am also reminded of what was relayed to me of a particular person with perfect pitch: he sees different colors with different notes. Since I don’t have perfect pitch (although I can get very close to a 440-A on my violin), that sort of discussion is mostly academic for me.

The Debussy piece was quite short at 4 minutes, and a couple of themes were used multiple times. And if you imagine really hard, you can see a city landscape, or convince yourself you do. The oriental pentatonic scale was used. Given how rich some passages sounded, I wonder if Debussy slipped in some other notes from the “western” scale; but I didn’t catch any.

One could make a case that the Messiaen piece isn’t really a piano solo with an ensemble (no strings). The xylophone certainly had a role that was at least as prominent as the piano, although the latter does have several “solo” passages. The transitions are indeed abrupt at times as the music goes from one “frame” to another, however, I didn’t get any colors (or gemstones, for that matter) from it. Also, Messiaen the devout Catholic included many religious overtones in the composition: those also escaped me.

One possible reason for shortening the program for a few minutes was that this was Emanuel Ax’s 100th performance with the Philharmonic, starting from about 35 years ago. The math is right as each program gets repeated 3 or so times during a Philharmonic “run”. To mark the occasion, Ax was awarded the “New York Philharmonic Society Award” which has been given out about 65 times during the orchestra’s 170 years, and there are only 5 living recipients before tonight. The audience applauded enthusiastically. I certainly have enjoyed quite a few of Ax’s performances with this Orchestra.

I was looking forward to the Mahler symphony, probably my favorite among Mahler’s ten symphonies. The last time the New York Philharmonic played this work was in January 2009, conducted by Gustavo Dudamel. I attended one of those concerts. I was eager to do some comparisons, even though my memories of the event have faded after a couple years. I did post my thoughts on that performance, though. They were quite brief, but included the phrase “came away very impressed.”

The Symphony also started with the horns coming in quite loud. However, Gilbert seemed to take the first movement’s marking (Funeral March: With measure step. Strict. Like a cortege) a bit too seriously, the tempo was quite strict, and somehow in turn made the music sounded sweeter than I would like. The second movement (Stormily. With greatest vehemence) was done energetically enough. The third movement (Scherzo: Vigorously, not too fast) is the longest, which one usually doesn’t associate with a Scherzo movement. There is quite a bit of slapstick playing, and to my amazement I noticed that the pitch of the slapstick can change (or is it my imagination?). However, sometimes in the flourish of music not everyone was in sync. The fourth movement (Adagietto: Very slow) is well-known. The orchestra slurred the notes a bit too much and sounded too complex for my taste (I like lines clean, and sounds distinct). The last movement (Rondo-Finale: Allegro giocoso. Lively) started well and was quite enjoyable. The whole symphony seemed a little rushed, although it took 70 minutes.

Being a regular Philharmonic subscriber, I would like to think Gilbert’s rendition of the symphony was at least as good as Dudamels, but – alas – I could not say so. I often compare Mahler’s music with changing landscape where you see new things after wandering for a while and turn a corner. What distinguishes a great conductor is the ability to integrate the wanderings into the overall picture. Many passages were done very well tonight, but Gilbert failed to stitch everything together into one coherent piece of work, there being many instances of not knowing where the music would lead.

The audience gave a very enthusiastic applause, though. I guess being able to get through Mahler is no small feat, but I thought the New York crowd was very sophisticated and demanding.

The New York Times review is very positive, calling the Mahler performance “strongly conceived, vigorous.” The reviewer also attributed the shortening of the Ax program to Ax’s conviction that it would sound closer knit together.

When we picked up our car at the garage, the attendant pointed out to us we had a flat tire. This after only 3000 miles on the car, quite frustrating. With the help of Anne (who read the instruction manual) I managed to change the tire in 15 minutes, dropping a lot of sweat in the process. We had to limp home at about 50 mph since this is one of those mini-spares.