Mostly Mozart Festival Orchestra – Louis Langree, conductor; Jean-Efflam Bavouzet, piano. August 10, 2012.

Avery Fisher Hall at Lincoln Center, Orchestra Center (Seat D111, $50).

Musique funebre (Muzyka zalobna) (1958) by Witold Lutoslawski (1931-1994).

Piano Concerto No. 3 (1945) by Bartok (1881-1945).

Symphony No. 39 in E-flat major, K.543 (1788) by Mozart (1756-1791).

We wanted to get into the city early for the pre-concert recital, but missed it by about five minutes, the usual summer Friday afternoon traffic being the culprit this time.  That is too bad as I was looking forward to hearing Brahms' Intermezzos (Op. 117).  On the plus side, we did find off street parking on 65^th, for free.

Our seats in Row D gave us a great view of the musicians in the front, but not much visibility beyond that.  We could hear the individual instruments in the orchestra (or most of them, anyway), which is a good thing.  My comment on the concert we heard on Wednesday was that the orchestra sounded soft, being closer made it better, but the volume was still on the soft side.  The downside is with the solo piano, the orchestra was completely overwhelmed.

The first two pieces of the program were all written in the mid 20^th century, which doesn’t make a lot of sense for a Mostly Mozart concert.  The only connection I could possibly made is the there is supposedly some birds and crickets effects in the Bartok piece (more on that later.)  The Program Annotator for tonight’s program is Paul Schiavo.  He also did a good job with the write-ups.

I had not encountered Lutoslawski’s music before (not having heard of him probably was a primary reason,) and didn’t know what to expect.  He conceived the work as a memorial to Bela Bartok, and the music – basically for a string orchestra – does fit the bill.  I would agree with the Program Notes’ statement that he succeeded splendidly in using modern compositional methods in a clear and readily apprehended way.  The four parts of the piece were played without interruption: Prologue, Metamorphoses, Apogee, and Epilogue, with the first and last parts like an arc encasing the middle sections.  In any case, the music was indeed quite accessible to a first-time listener, in my case using Schiavo’s write-up as a guide.

Bela Bartok completed the piano concerto shortly before his death, hoping his wife could earn some money performing it: there is probably a poignant story behind the matter-of-fact narrative in the Program Notes.  The first two movements (Allegretto and Andante religioso) are on the relatively straightforward side, making me wonder what Bartok was thinking when he wrote this.  The lack of virtuosic requirement on the performer is negated in the third movement (Allegro vivace) which includes many difficult passages with a lot of flourish thrown in.  The annotation in this instance has a couple of comments on the second movement that I find a bit puzzling: it calls the second movement “in every way the heart of the Concerto” which I would take issue with (admittedly after hearing it only once.)  The other comment about its A-B-A design while technically correct is close to non-informative, since the second A is very different from the first A.  I didn’t get the evocations of bird and insect sounds in the B section; Anne did.

As I said earlier, the piano dominated the performance, probably because of the acoustics at our seats.  The soloist certainly enjoyed himself, and he put in a delightful performance.

To me, Bartok’s music is generally easy to understand, and this one is particularly so.  I suppose the program design folks at Mostly Mozart picked these two pieces for their ease to understand.  If that is so, kudos to them.

We have heard the Mozart symphony several times before, including the time New York Philharmonic played all three in the “final trilogy,” of which this symphony is the first.  I still remember using the phrase “Mozart-fatique” to describe the experience of listening to three symphonies in a row.  There was no such problem tonight, the orchestra put in a spirited and crisp performance.  The four movements of the symphony are: Adagio – Allegro, Andante con coto, Menuetto: Allegretto, and Allegro.

I did notice a violinist who also plays in the Orpheus Chamber Orchestra, a group I have mixed feelings about.  Going over my prior blog entries, I find an entry where the Orpheus Orchestra also performed this piece.  My remark was that the performance “was not particularly noteworthy.”  I can’t help but wonder if this particular violinist enjoys playing the piece with or without a conductor.  She did pay a lot of attention to the conductor, though.

Langree certainly did his job with gusto; a bit much at times, in my opinion.  I couldn't help but notice how crisp his pants looked: the "Maestro" episode of Seinfeld kept flashing in my head.

Our trip home was uneventful.  We got back at around 10:45 pm, and that included a side-trip to fill up the gas tank.

Mostly Mozart Festival Orchestra – Susanna Malkki, conductor; Garrick Ohlsson, piano. August 8, 2012.

Avery Fisher Hall at Lincoln Center, Orchestra Left (Seat S104, $50).

Program

Rendering (1989) by Schubert/Luciano Berio.

Piano Concerto No. 5 in E-flat major (“Emperor”) (1810) by Beethoven.

We came back from Hong Kong on Monday, so I was a bit apprehensive whether we could stay awake for the concert.  The fear was compounded by my lingering cough which kept me up both nights I have been home.  It turned out okay, though.  I was tired, but managed to stay awake during the entire concert.  Anne did doze off towards the end of the first half.

We read in the Program Notes a description by Berio of the piece Rendering: “This restoration is made along the lines of the modern restoration of frescoes that aims at reviving the old colors without however trying to disguise the damage that time has caused, often leaving inevitable empty patches in the composition (for instance as in the case of Giotto in Assisi).” Fair enough, and I can indeed picture what such a restored painting would look like.

Alas, it is not that straightforward when it comes to music.  Foremost amongst the many reasons why it is different with music is when it comes to restoration of a painting, we are talking about a completed work that faded with time, and the restorer’s objective is to bring back as much as she can while leaving blank the portions she isn’t sure of.  What is done with the Schubert piece wasn’t quite that: Schubert didn’t finish the piece and we therefore do not have a case of lost notes a restorer is trying to reconstruct.  A better equivalent would be someone taking Giotto’s sketches and trying to make a complete painting out of it.  Here I have to take a bit of issue with how it was done: in filling in the missing pieces, Berio did it with his own style.  When a restorer sees two disjoint segments, the thing to do is to draw a straight line between them rather than create a new idea to link them together.  And we have a lot of that here.

Enough analysis, let’s move on to the performance.  Given our seats, I expected great acoustics (or at least relatively good acoustics, this is Avery Fisher Hall, after all) but was surprised at how thin the orchestra sounded.  Perhaps it was due to the placement of the group: the stage was brought forward a bit to allow for seating behind the orchestra; perhaps it was due to this decorative “thing” hanging over the orchestra (come to think of it, it may be an acoustic thing, and if so it certainly didn’t do the job.)

The music itself is quite interesting.  To the uninitiated, which I imagine would be most of the audience, the music can either be considered a modern piece with classical elements thrown in, or a classical piece with modern elements thrown in, and it is more than just a juxtaposition of the two genres.  In my opinion, the first two movements (Allegro, Andante) are more the former, and the last movement (Allegro) the latter.  I wonder if this is due to the availability of original Schubert material with regard to the three movements.  The main contrast between Schubert and Berio, as I hear it, is that Schubert’s segments are much more solid compared to the shimmering effect of Berio’s segments.

While it is fun to analyze music this way, I would much rather hear material that appeals directly to whichever part of my brain appreciates music.  Of course many would say it’s the same part of the brain that does analysis and appreciates music.  In any case, most people would have only limited exposure to this piece – I can’t imagine going to another performance of this piece even if I wanted to – and would soon forget about it.

The Beethoven concerto certainly didn’t suffer from these issues.  It is straightforward, familiar, and always enjoyable.  The music speaks for itself, appeals to the listener directly, and moves forward at a pace that doesn’t allow time for a deep analysis.  Its three movements are: Allegro, Adagio un poco moto, and Rondo: Allegro ma non troppo.

If you consider the elements of Ohlsson’s performance - tempo, dynamics, phrasing, and overall architecture – you would rate them all high.  When taken together, however, they do not quite translate to a memorable performance.  That seems to be my beef with him in my prior write-ups on his performance.  The other blemish would be in tonight’s performance the piano playing dominated the orchestra, which I found somewhat surprising, and attribute it to more than simply acoustics.

Which leads to the subject of the conductor.  Susanna Malkki is Finnish, a former cellist who started doing full time conducting about 15 years ago.  One would root for woman conductors (two others come to mind: Marin Alsop and Xian Zhang) in this male-dominated profession.  She seems very mechanical in her movements, and at times I worried if she was in total control – this is a statement about her and the orchestra.  She has worked with some big name orchestras, though.

A couple of additional remarks.  Ohlsson played as encore a very familiar Chopin piece – Waltz No. 1, Op. 18.  Also, the annotator David Wright’s write-ups are enjoyable to read and sheds considerable light on the music, especially for the Schubert/Berio piece.  He writes for the audience, not for his peers.

Vienna Piano Trio. 7/18/2012.

Richardson Auditorium in Alexander Hall, Princeton University, Row 1, Balcony Center (free).

Trio members: Wolfgang Redik, violin; Matthias Gredler, cello; Stefan Mendl, piano.

Program

Piano Trio in A Major, Hob XV/18 by Franz Joseph Haydn (1732-1809).

Piano Trio in A Minor by Maurice Ravel (1875-1937).

Piano Trio in B flat Major D. 898, Op. 99 by Franz Schubert (1797-1828).

I again met up with David and Vivien for this concert.  Anne is overseas so I went to Princeton by myself.  It was raining hard, with the area drenched by a thunderstorm caused a temperature drop (per reading inside my car) from over 100F to the mid 70s in less than 30 minutes earlier in the afternoon.  Traffic was bad, but not particularly so for this time of the day.  David and Vivien got to Princeton early and picked up the (free) tickets, and we had dinner at Panera Bread before going over to the venue.

There were quite a few empty seats in the balcony, probably because some people decided not to venture out due to the heavy rain.  Which is a pity as this was a great concert.  There was a lot of music squeezed into the program, which, including the encore, lasted more than two hours.

I don’t go to chamber music events that often – I joke with David that 80% have been with him at these Princeton events – I certainly don’t feel I understand the “genre” well.  Regardless, I thought there was something un-Haydnesque about the Haydn piece: the techniques, the dynamics, the harmonies, are not what I would usually associate with Haydn.  Of course my knowledge of Haydn is limited by-and-large to his symphonies, string quartets, and a few choral pieces, but nonetheless … The three movements of the piece are: Allegro moderato, Andante, and Allegro.  It was brilliantly played, and got the evening off to a great start.

The Ravel piece, in my opinion was the most interesting of the three performed tonight.  It has four movements: Modere, Pantoum – Assez Vif, Passacaille – Tres Large, Final – Anime.  I don’t know French, and can only guess at the meaning.  No matter, it appears to be a rather difficult piece, and again was beautifully played by the trio.

Ravel supposedly was a bit frustrated people called Bolero his most famous work.  That complaint probably had a lot of merit to it.  I did a quick review of my blog entries, and over the last few years I have heard quite a few pieces of his, and – per my notes – I enjoyed quite a few of them (notable except being “Mother Goose.”)  If you ask me what I remember of yesterday’s piece, not much – as evidenced by what I have written about it so far.  But, if you ask me what Bolero sounds like, I can probably tap out the snare drum rat-tat-tat correctly.

Schubert’s Trio is the longest at a bit over 40 minutes.  It is very classical in structure, complete with theme, development, and modulation.  The four movements are: (i) Allegro moderato, (ii) Andante, un poco mosso, (iii) Scherzo: Allegro, and (iv) Rondo: Allegro vivace.   In and of itself it is a great piece, however, it felt a bit light-weight when compared to Ravel’s work.  Which probably makes for an interesting programming question: why not flip the two halves of the program around, and have the concert end on the more exciting Ravel.  Not that the energy level of the performers was sapped by the time they got to the end, but the music did come across somewhat that way.

While writing this blog, I looked at my iTunes library and found out to my surprise (dismay) that I actually have a recording of the Schubert piece.  Didn’t I say I don’t listen to chamber music that much?  In fairness, the first movement did sound a bit familiar …

The audience applause was very enthusiastic, justifiably so.  The Trio played an encore: a slow movement from a piece by Schumann.

A few words about the Trio, gleamed from the short writeup in the handout for the evening.  It has been around for about 20 years, and has an active performance calendar.  The members – all male – are all middle-aged, not the usual age of chamber music players that perform at these Princeton summer concerts.  The two string instruments are Guadagninis (1772 violin, 1752 cello.)  One would think the tone and volume should be quite similar.  Not so, at least to my ears, the violin’s sound is much more brilliant, and the cello is at times overwhelmed.  I wonder if my hearing is what it used to be, or that there is quite a bit of learning to do …

One of those days I will be able to write a “real” chamber music review, but not today.

Paris Opera Ballet – Adolphe Adam’s Giselle. July 14, 2012.

David H. Koch Theater at Lincoln Center – Orchestra (Seat L102, $82).

Libretto by Theophile Gautier, Jules-Henri Vernoy de Saint Georges

Music by Adolphe Adam

Choreography by Jean Coralli, Jules Perrot (1841)

Original Staging by Marius Petipa (1887); restaged by Patrice Bart, Eugene Polyakov (1991)

Origianl Set and Costume Design by Alexandre Benois (1924); Sets Realized by Silvano Mattei; Costumes Realized by Claudie Gastine

Story.  See prior blog.

Conductor – Koen Kessels; Giselle – Isabella Ciaravola, Count Albrecht – Karl Paquette, Hilarion – Audric Bezard, Berthe – Christine Peltzer, Peasants (Pas de Deux) – Heloise Bourdon & Axel Ibot, Myrta – Marie-Agnes Gillot, Two Wilis – Amandine Albisson, Sarah Kora Dayanova.

I do not understand ballet, I have seen this before, I didn’t plan on it (actually I literally flipped a coin), so why did I come see this again?  I am still trying to understand ballet; I also wonder how ABT compares with other ballet troupes; the tickets are on sale for a substantial discount; and with Anne away overseas I am by myself.  These were reasonably good reasons to go.  I decided not to get the supercheap fourth ring ticket and got a seat in the orchestra section instead.  Given the smallish size of Koch theater, I was seated quite close to the stage.  With the use of binoculars, I actually could see the expressions (and sweat) on the dancers’ face.

It is a bit ironic that you can’t see the orchestra while seated in the orchestra section.  And the slope of the seating section is too gentle so if you have a tall person in front of you, then you are out of luck.  Alas, that is the situation I found myself in.

When the music began, I found to my dismay that I didn’t remember it – I heard it in May 2011.  The orchestra – NYC Opera – played quite well.  I have the same opinion of the music as I did after the first hearing – sugary, oft-repeated, serves mostly as accompaniment – but to my surprise I found it to work quite well in this instance.  The sets are not elaborate, and I am sure some of that was just trees painted on fabric.  I do appreciate the simplicity, especially of the second act – just a simple cross over a tomb in the forest with a church in the background.

I have always wondered if the group dances at ABT can or should be more precise.  Well, I am not going to get the answer from this group, because they certainly didn't move with the precision of a marching band.  (Or perhaps that is not something to look for to begin with.)  In general I thought the dancing was very good.  The choreography for the group dances called for rather difficult moves on the individual dancer, to do that collectively would be quite an achievement, and the troupe did that on multiple occasions.  Some of the vignettes (segments? I don’t know what they are called) are a bit drawn out, but I suppose the intent is to give dancers the opportunity to show off their skills.  The beginning of Act II was quite convincing, the spirits first came out with veils on their faces, these veils were yanked off together by people off-stage, creating an interesting effect.  I actually caught myself thinking “this is giving me the willies!”

The individual dancers were impressive also.  When one sits up close, one can see some of the hesitation and mistakes (for example, not nailing a landing), but one also appreciates how difficult some of the movements are.  The foot movements look awfully difficult, and impressive, and boy, can Albrecht jump.  And it is amazing to see how Giselle transforms from a happy-go-lucky village lass to a somber ghost.

A few words about the Paris Opera Ballet.  It is the oldest national ballet in the world, dating back to the days of Louis XIV, and was formed under the name of the Royal Academy of Music.  It apparently draws most of its performers from the Paris Opera Ballet School.  Which makes me wonder if the dancers are mostly French, or the school enrolls a lot of foreign students.  They didn’t have a performance on during our few days in Paris in late May, and I wonder how they would look on their home turf.  (They will probably have an advantage over the Opera since there is no language barrier.)

Looking back at my writeup on the last time I saw this ballet, I discovered I was okay with it.  I am sure I enjoyed today's a lot more, since I don’t recall liking the music and appreciating the dancers’ virtuosity that much.  Maybe this is due to my proximity to the stage?  Maybe the ballet is the “oldest continually-performed ballet” for a reason?  Or maybe the Paris Opera Ballet is simply better at this then American Ballet Theater?  If it is the last reason, then – like my remark about some concert reviewers – perhaps I need to go out more.

The troupe will be at Lincoln Center for about a month, this was the second performance of this ballet during the troupe’s visit.  As of now (late evening, July 14) I have not found a review.

I found on 7/15 this New York Times review.  The reviewer succeeds in talking from both sides of his mouth and sounding sophisticated at the same time, praising and condemning the performance in alternate sentences.  He did make an interesting observation about the necks of the French dancers and alluded to the fact that they are mostly French without sounding too politically incorrect.  He also likes the music here more than ABT's; evidently they are different scores.  It's a pity that he didn't provide a head-to-head ABT and Paris Opera Ballet comparison, perhaps his courage does have a limit, afterall.

American Ballet Theater – Mendelssohn’s The Dream; Stravinsky’s Firebird. June 23, 2012.

Metropolitan Opera House at Lincoln Center – Dress Circle (Seat C125, $75.)

The Dream

Choreography by Frederick Ashton

Music by Felix Mendelssohn-Bartholdy, arranged by John Lanchbery

Staged by Anthony Dowell with Christopher Carr

Sets and costumes by David Walker

Lighting design by John B. Read

Conductor – Ormsby Wilkins; Titania – Xiomara Reyes, Oberon – Cory Stearns, Puck – Herman Cornejo, Bottom – Alexei Agoudine, Helena – Marica Riccetto, Hermia – Stella Abrera, Demetrius – Sascha Radetsky, Lysander – Jared Matthewsa.

The Young People’s Chorus of New York City, Francisco J. Nunez, artistic director.

Jody Sheinbaum, solo soprano; Lindsay Bogaty, solo mezzo-soprano.

Firebird

Choreography by Alexei Ratmansky

Music by Igor Stravinsky (“L’Oiseau de Feu”)

Scenery by Simon Pastukh

Costumes by Galina Solovyeva, costume consultant: Holly Hynes

Lighting by Brad Fields

Projections designed by Wendall Harrington

Conductor – Charles Barker; Firebird – Natalia Osipova, Ivan – Marcelo Gomes, Maiden – Simone Messmer, Kaschei – David Hallberg

Firebird story.  Ivan is looking for his lost love and hides when he sees a flock of firebirds.  He captures one and gets a magical feather to be used to summon the firebird when he is in danger.  A group of maidens under spell then appears, and Ivan is drawn to one of them.  As they come together the evil sorcerer Kaschei appears to harm them.  Ivan uses the feather to summon the firebird, who leads everyone to dance until they collapse.  The firebird then struggles with Kaschei, who seduces the maiden.  The firebird helps Ivan break the spell by shattering an egg that contains Kaschei’s soul and power, and Kaschei dies.  The maidens awake and are liberated.

We got a double-header today.  Both on paper should be quite interesting, Mendelssohn’s Midsummer Night’s Dream and Stravinsky’s Firebird.  The cast and the conductor were different, the same orchestra performed in both ballets.

First, The Dream.  I couldn’t find any synopsis or reference to the story.  “Luckily” we saw The Enchanted Island recently, so we were somewhat familiar with the characters (although sometimes it is difficult to decide who belongs in The Dream or The Tempest.)  My conjecture is that the ballet isn’t trying to tell the whole Shakespeare story, and I found it difficult to guess what scenes were being depicted during the performance.  You know there are these two pairs of lovers who may or may not be getting married (well, the wedding march is included), you wonder what this cupid-like character (Puck, and boy, could he jump) and little child (Changeling) are doing there, and you cringe at how Mendelssohn’s music is botched in the arrangement.  To boot, the dances didn’t look all that compelling.  Perhaps ABT expects its audience knows their Shakespeare, or perhaps it thinks the staging and dances are compelling enough that no explanation is necessary, or perhaps it is just incompetent.  I probably would have trouble keeping up when I am at my sharpest; and today isn’t one of them since I just returned from Hong Kong two days ago and have not been getting enough sleep.

The Firebird worked out much better for me.  I learned from Prokofiev’s Romeo and Juliet that a composer would extract Orchestral Suites from music he wrote for the ballet.  That tidbit came in handy today since I didn’t have to wonder why the ballet music sounded different from what I remembered of prior orchestral performances I heard.  (For the record, I did hear the complete ballet in April, 2008.)  While we are on this subject, the music for this ballet sounded much fuller than The Dream, perhaps due to its not having been tainted by the ubiquitous arranger.

The colors were certainly nice.  The costumes for the firebirds, the maidens, and Koschei evoke the appropriate images.  Anne also remarked the scenery reminds one of Chagall, who actually did the scenery and costumes by Marc Chagall.

With a story to follow, things certainly made a lot more sense.  Hallberg, whom we saw two weeks ago as Onegin, played the role of the evil Kaschei very well.  Ivan, however, didn’t leave a lasting impression, as I write this two days after the performance.

Overall, the evening had a lot of potential to showcase what great ballet can be: choreography, scenery, costumes, and music.  Despite some of the highlights, it failed.

The New York Times Review goes into great detail about The Dream, which it raves about, and pans in a few short paragraphs The Firebird, going as far as calling it “Alexei Ratmansky’s new comic psychodrama.”

New York Philharmonic – Alan Gilbert, conductor; Emanuel Ax, piano; New York Choral Artists. June 22, 2012.

Avery Fisher Hall at Lincoln Center, Orchestra 1 (Seat P106, $70.)

Program

Piano Concerto No. 22 in E-flat major, K.482 (1785) by Mozart (1756-91).

Mass in C minor, Great, K.427 (1782-83) by Mozart.

Artists

Jennifer Zetlan, soprano; Jennifer Johnson Cano, Mezzo-soprano; Paul Appleby, Tenor; Joshua Hopkins, Baritone.

Joseph Flummerfelt, Director, New York Choral Artists

After dropping off some items at church for the garage sale on Saturday, we went to the Yangs and got a ride from them into the city.  Being a summer Friday afternoon, traffic was quite bad.  We navigated through side streets of Jersey City to get in the Holland Tunnel, and then had to crawl along for a while because of an accident on West Side Highway.  The trip took over two hours, and we only had 15 minutes or so to gulp down a sandwich purchased at the Expresso Bar in Avery Fisher Hall.

Other than a few “special events” scheduled for next week, this is the final series for the season.  Ax, being the artist-in-residence for next year, is a natural pick as the solo artist.  Most people think of a mass as choral music accompanied by an orchestra, thus I find it a bit interesting that the final program of the season does not have the orchestra play a dominant role.  One could psycho-analyze this in depth, or just sit back and enjoy the program, which I chose to do.

I have always enjoyed Ax’s playing.  Technically flawed sometimes, but the musicality always came across.  This is the first Mozart concerto I heard him play, though.  The Program Notes mentions this interesting correlation between Mozart’s popularity and the number of piano concertos he wrote during any given year.  Makes sense as Mozart wrote the concertos mostly with himself as the soloist in mind.  Three were written in 1785, a decline from prior years – and Mozart was not quite 30 years old.  I often make the remark that Mozart’s music comes across as a bit repetitious, this concerto does not.  Actually the first two movements (Allegro and Andante) sounded downright un-Mozartian to me.  The Allegro [Rondo] third movement did exhibit a lot of Mozart characteristics; however, it was a delight, especially at the relatively fast tempo taken.  Ax played his own cadenzas, since none that Mozart wrote survived.

Of all the piano concertos I recall having heard in Avery Fisher Hall, this one had the best balance between the soloist and the orchestra.  That probably had more to do with the seats we got rather than the actual performance itself.  Anne at first complained the piano was too loud, but I convinced her that this was one of the few times a live performance sounded like a CD playing.  Overall it was a great performance: the audience certainly thought so, with the enthusiastic applause at the conclusion, and the attempt of some to do so after the first movement.  If this had happened a few years ago, I would have doubted myself and wondered what did they hear that was so remarkable that I didn’t.  Now I am more confident in attributing their behavior to being star-struck.  The sound was nice and crisp (the way I like Mozart being played), the balance was great (perhaps due to our seats), the virtuosity impressive (especially for a Mozart concerto), the orchestra was competent (I even remarked all they had to do was to come in early and go over a few passages, and they would be ready), so what’s not to like?  For me the disappointment was the overall architecture that Ax was so good at didn’t come across as clearly as I had wished.

The Program Notes had some interesting background about the mass.  It posited that Mozart wrote it to get on the good side of his father Leopold since Mozart married Constanze without Leopold’s blessing.  He did not complete the work either because Leopold seemed to accept Constanze, or because Mozart was too busy.  Evidently many scholars tried to complete the work by splicing in the missing parts; tonight’s performance, however, mostly kept to the original.  Thus we have Kyrie, Gloria, Credo, Sanctus, and Benedictus qui venit; and some of the sections are incomplete.  A expert in masses may complain, but it worked fine as far as I am concerned, even though the ending seemed a bit abrupt.

The soloists are all on the young side, and a couple of them are products of the Lindemann Young Artist Development Program.  It turns out we had seen several of them at the Metropolitan Opera: Zetland as Xenia in Boris Godunov,  Johnson Cano as Wellunde (a Rhinemaiden) in Das Rheingold and Gotterdammerung, and Appleby as Demetrius in The Enchanted Island.  Hopkins actually didn't have a solo part: he only sang as part of the quartet at the end.   I didn’t remember any of them, probably because they didn’t have the lead roles, and also because I am not familiar with the vocal artists scene.  The balance between soloists, chorus, and orchestra was great; the soprano choir voice sounded a bit strained at times, though.  The only detraction was Johnson Cano tended to move around a lot more than the other soloists, which was slightly disconcerting.  One expects a bit more harmony in stage presence as well, and wonders if the movements are intended to upstage others.  It is especially unfortunate when this is the first thing about the performance that comes to mind.

I came away relatively pleased with the overall program, Anne came away saying she really enjoyed it.  Perhaps I should listen to Mozart more often.  In any case, we were glad Shirley made the trip with us.

The relatively straightforward New York Times Review spent as much ink on the length of the New York Philharmonic season as it did on the performance.

Hong Kong Philharmonic – Oleg Caetani, conductor; Johannes Moser, cello. June 16, 2012.

Hong Kong Cultural Center Concert Hall, Stalls 2 (Seat HH62, HK$240).

Program – Russian Shakespeare

Hamlet – Fantasy Overture after Shakespeare, Op, 67, by Tchaikovsky (1840-1893).

Variations on a Rococo Theme, Op. 33, by Tchaikovsky.

Romeo and Juliet Suite by Prokofiev (1891-1953).

I think to call the program by the name of “Russian Shakespeare” is too clever by half.  Yes, the composers are Russian, and yes, most of the music references Shakespeare.  On the other hand, the title would make people hesitate to attempt something so esoteric.  Cases in point: I couldn’t get anyone to go with me, so I ended up going along; and the attendance at this concert is one of the lowest at any HKPO concert I have been to.  I am not only saying the program title is too sophisticated for a Hong Kong audience, I am saying it is too sophisticated even for a New York audience.  (For proof, see my rumblings about NY Phil’s Modern Beethoven series.)

Which is a real pity.  All the pieces on the program are interesting, they were done on the whole well, and one would get to see this (undoubtedly) up and coming young cellist Johannes Moser.

The concert didn’t start out that great.  In the past I have always remarked that the Hong Kong Philharmonic is a surprisingly competent orchestra.  For the first piece they seemed lackluster and a big dragging.  To me Tchaikovsky doesn’t bother with a lot of mystery, he just tells the story the way it enfolds, with great musical themes, lively tempo, and dramatic dynamics.  And Hamlet is great drama, what with murder, insanity, and ghosts.  While not the entire story is told in this 18 or so minute piece, there should be enough drama in it to make it riveting.  All I heard was a competent reading of the score.

Things got considerable better with the Variations.  They are described in considerable detail in the Program Notes (which are free, by the way) and are quite easy to follow.  What is impressive is the young cellist Moser (he was born in 1979.)  The auditorium is small, so I am sure it helps: but I was simply amazed at how he made the instrument sing with clarity and feeling.  Other than the high register notes, I don’t know how challenging the piece is for a virtuoso cellist, but Moser seems to know the piece like the back of his hand, and seems to relish playing it.  He should: per the Program Notes he won a Special Prize at the 2002 Tchaikovsky Competition for the piece.

He played two encore pieces.  The first one is the Andante Cantabile adapted from Tchaikovsky’s String Quartet.  Even I could tell it was technically not difficult, but the piece highlighted how pleasant good cello playing could sound.  The second encore was a selection from Bach’s Cello Suite No. 1 (the Sarabande, I think).  That piece unfortunately didn’t do much for me, except to think “too much of a good thing.”  Paraphrasing what George said in a Seinfeld episode, you should leave with the audience wishing for more, rather than have them think enough already.

In any case, I am sure we will hear a lot more from him (or about him, at least.)

We have seen the ballet Romeo and Juliet a couple of times, and enjoyed both the choreography and the music.  Prokofiev took 20 numbers from the original score and formed them into two orchestral suites; he liked the idea so much that he added a third suite some ten years later.  (The ballet must be about 2 hours, so there was enough material to draw from.)  On top of that, conductors have compiled their own suites by picking from these three, and to add back some numbers that didn’t make its way into them.  Evidently tonight’s performance is one of those.

First let me list what was performed tonight: 

• Introduction (from the ballet).  Suggestion of early morning and beginning of play.
• Juliet as a young girl (Suite 2, No. 2).  Young, but beginning to come of age.
• Montagues aned Capulets (Suite 2, No. 1).  Hints at the upcoming tragedy.  One of the more memorable numbers in the ballet depicting the two families.
• Masks (Suite 1, No. 5).  Romeo and his friends gate-crashing a ball wearing masks.
• Gavotte (from the ballet).  Departure of guests from the masked ball.
• Romeo and Juliet (Suite 1, No. 6).  The famous balcony scene.
• Friar Laurence (Suite 2, No. 3).  The priest who tried to help the young lovers.
• Tybalt’s Death (Suite 1, No. 7).  Romeo kills Tybalt in anger, contributing to the on-going feud.

 The selection of the numbers does not make much sense if one wants to tell a story.  It works reasonably well as a musical number.  Of course, the Notes does not help as the listener would inevitably ask why it would conclude with Tybalt’s Death, other than this number's dramatic ending.  (I don’t remember how the ballet ends musically, but wonder it would provide an equally dramatic end to the Suite.)

I enjoyed it, and I am sure that knowing what the selection is trying to depict helped.  The applause afterwards was as enthusiastic as I ever heard from a Hong Kong audience.

This is the first time I heard (or heard of) the conductor Oleg Caetani.  He seemed a bit mechanical in his interpretation, and had to refer to his music constantly.  The thought that the HKPO is unfamiliar with his style crossed my mind initially – perhaps there is a ways for the orchestra to go yet, as I can’t imagine expressing similar sentiments with the New York Philharmonic or Boston Symphony.

One other curious fact.  The orchestra is quite large (10 cellos and 8 basses for the Prokofiev), and the concert hall is on the small side, yet the sound isn’t as deep as one would expect.  I wonder why.

Sebastian Chamber Players. June 9, 2012.

All Angel's Episcopal Church, New York City - Hall ($15.)

Yi-heng Yang, fortepiano
Daniel S. Lee, violin
Ezra Seltzer, cello

Program: The Composer's Instrument
Trio in E minor, Hob. XV/12 (1788-89) by Joseph Haydn (1732-1809).
   Allegro moderato
   Andante; Rondo
   Presto
Sonata for violin and piano in C, K. 296 (1778) by Mozart (1756-1791).
   Allegro vivace
   Andante sostenuto
   Rondeau: Allegro
Sonata for piano in E minor, Wq. 59/1, H. 281 (1785-1788) by
          Carl Philipp Emanuel Bach (1714-1788).
   Presto -
   Andantino
   Rondo: Andante un poco
Trio in G, Op. 1, No. 2 (1793-94) by Beethoven (1770-1827).
   Adagio - Allegro vivace
   Largo con espressione
   Scherzo: Allegro - Trio
   Finale: Presto
Encore trio piece by Haydn.

After the ballet we met up with with Yi-heng's parents at Gennaro's for dinner, after which we went to All Angel's Church for the recital by the Sebastian Chamber Players, with Yi-heng at the fortepiano.  She explained a bit how the fortepiano differs from the modern day piano.  The one used at the concert was borrowed from Julliard, and is a replica of an instrument used at Mozart's time.

The instrument was quite out of tune, the tuner frantically worked on it before the concert, and during the intermission.

There is a collection of paintings and lithographs by Ben Zion and Marc Chagall at the church which we got to see before the performance.

American Ballet Theater – Tchaikovsky’s Onegin. June 9, 2012.

Metropolitan Opera House at Lincoln Center – Dress Circle (Seat C101, $73).

Choreography by John Cranko

Music by Peter Tchaikovsky, arranged and orchestrated by Kurt-Heinz Stolze

Conductor – David LaMarche; Eugene Onegin – David Hallberg, Lensky – Joseph Gorak, Tatiana – Hee Seo, Olga – Yuriko Kajiya, Madame Larina their mother – Sarah Smith, Their nurse – Kelly Boyd, Prince Gremin – Roddy Doble.

Story.  Lensky brings his friend Onegin from St. Petersburg to visit the area since Onegin is bored with the big city.  Tatiana falls in love with Onegin, writes him a love note, but Onegin rejects her and tears the note up.  As the provincial gentry come to celebrate Tatiana’s birthday, Onegin flirts with Lensky’s fiancé Olga which causes Lensky to challenge him to a duel, at which Lensky is killed.  Onegin continues with his search for meaning, when he returns to St. Petersburg and is honored at a ball host by Prince Gremin, Onegin finds to his surprise that he is actually in love with Tatiana.  He writes Tatiana a love letter, but is rejected by Tatiana the same way he rejected her years ago: with the love note torn up.

We saw the opera quite a few years ago, also at the Met Opera House, by a Russian group (I think it is actually from St. Petersburg, but not sure.)  I don’t remember much of the music, or the story, or how well it was done, except that the sets were quite Spartan, with a white piece of cloth serving as the river where the duel took place.  Today’s sets were a great improvement over that, although they would not be what one would call elaborate, with the possible exception of the third act where the ballroom had three huge chandeliers.  The costumes were also quite well designed.  Not overtly Russian, but do evoke images of the countryside.

I suspect the score arranger did a lot to Tchaikovsky’s original score for the ballet.  I wouldn’t even have guessed it was written by Tchaikovsky without my prior knowledge.  The melodies sounded nice enough, but the saccharine music mostly served the choreography and probably won’t stand up well on its own.  The choreography when not predictable is confusing.  Most of the pas de deux (what’s the plural form?) and the one pas de trois are quite disjoint.  Remember my earlier remark about the music as being inadequate?  I actually felt it was wasted when Olga and Lensky had their pas de deux.  I find the dream of Tatiana particularly disappointing: it is a series of jerky movements with a muddled message.  When I make this remark to Anne, she said I just don’t understand what romantic means.

On the other hand, there are some moments that are quite well done.  The group dances look very nice with well-coordinated movements; some, such as the leaps by the females dances while running, are quite difficult.  And I have never seen someone go backwards on point the entire width of the stage, as Tatiana did when rejected by Onegin.

When Onegin first came on the stage, he had this haughty look about him that eventually gave way to a more subdued stance, even though he didn’t slump as I predicted he would.  His blonde hair actually got a bit darker as he turned gray – not sure if that happens in real life.  Both Tatiana and Olga were played by Asian dancers, probably a first at ABT, and they acquitted themselves very well, garnering enthusiastic applause at curtain call.

The New York Times reviewer saw a different cast.  While he manages to find good things to say about the dancers, he certainly shares my same discomfort with the music and the choreography.  He points out the score has other Tchaikovsky’s works interwoven into it.  Actually the one tune (a waltz) Anne remember from the opera isn’t in the ballet score at all.

Despite all my misgivings, the story still came through.  That may speak to the original creative power of the original artists (the story is based on a poem by Pushkin), or the simple fact that regret is such a common emotion.

Tonhalle Orchestra - Giovanni Antonini, conductor. June 6, 2012.

Tonhalle, Zurich, Switzerland.  Main Floor (Row 25, Seat 586, CHF 85.)

Program

Concerto in G minor RV 576 for Violin, Oboe and Orchestra by Vivaldi (1678-1741).

Artists: George-Cosmin Banica, violin; Simon Fuchs, oboe; Giovanni Antonini, recorder; Elaine Frankhauser, alto-recorder; Emanuele Forni, lute.

Concerto in E minor RV464 for Bassoon and Orchestra by Vivaldi.

Artists: Matthew Racz, bassoon; Emanuele Forni, lute.

Symphony in G minor KV183 by Mozart (1756-1791).

Symphony No. 1 in C major Op. 21 by Beethoven (1770-1827).

We actually tried to go for another Zurich performance (La Boheme) on June 5, 2012.  We knew we wouldn’t have a lot of spare time, coming back from Zermatt that afternoon.  Indeed we missed the 1:49 pm train and thus had to take the 2:49 pm which got in at around 6 pm.  It became quite impossible, what with trying to find our bearings in the city, and checking into the hotel.  Well …

Tonhalle is reasonably easy to get to from the hotel, two tram rides and a short walk at both ends, about 30 minutes in total.  It is ornately decorated, seats 1455, and was inaugurated in 1895 by Brahms.  For tonight the hall was perhaps 85% to 90% full.  Considering Zurich is a city of about 350,000 (metropolitan area about 1 million), and that this program is repeated three times (one abbreviated), this is not bad at all.

The acoustics turned out to be quite good.  The orchestra size for the Vivaldi pieces was small, so the thought “Orpheus” came immediately to mind.  Even though Antonini played the recorder, he also doubled as the conductor for the piece.  The balance was quite good, except the two recorders by nature sound quite soft, so sometimes difficult to hear.  The performance was quite animated, and quite enjoyable.  The three movements are Allegro, Larghetto, and Allegro.

A program costs CHF 5, which is not unreasonable, but we didn’t get one since it is in Swiss (that would be German for this part of Switzerland).  What is unreasonable is they didn’t even hand out a small flyer listing the program and the musicians.  I also think the artists should protest as it takes a lot to get onto an international stage, and people end up saying “I really enjoyed the music but I don’t know who played in the concert.”

I did know from the posters I saw that Mozart and Beethoven were also on the program.  So I naturally thought the next piece was by Mozart.  After a while I decided it sounded too baroque, and without repeated notes, so it had to be Vivaldi again.  The bassoonist was certainly very energetic, and there are some very difficult passages that he nailed – most of the time anyway.  What I found surprising was how low the bassoon sounded.  The definitive bassoon passage for me is the one from “The Rite of Spring,” which sounds at least an octave higher.  The movements are Allegro poco, Andante, and Allegro.

The symphony by Mozart (his 25^th) was reasonably familiar, and the orchestra played it well.  From my college days I have thought of Mozart as “Master of the Repeated Note,” not necessary a term of praise.  After listening to this symphony I must add the title “Master of the Repetition.”  Definitely not a term of praise.  The symphony itself is quite short at 25 or so minutes, so without the repeats it may only be 15 minutes long.  The four movements are Allegro con brio, Andante, Menuetto – Trio, and Allegro.  Evidently I was wrong in thinking Beethoven invented the term “Allegro con brio.”  Of course there is “con brio” and there is “CON BRIO.”

We heard Beethoven’s Symphony No. 1 recently, as part of the New York Philharmonic “Modern Beethoven” series, conducted by of all people Tonhalle’s Music Director David Zinman.  Since I went to three of these concerts at two different locations, I don’t remember if I heard it in NJPAC or Avery Fisher (I am in a plane as I type this.)  I don’t remember enjoying that performance as much as this one.  One possible reason is that I was “Beethovened-out” by the time I heard this with the New York Philharmonic, even though I didn’t feel it at the time; or tonight’s was simply a better performance.  In any case, for me this reconfirms my earlier observation that Beethoven defined himself as a romantic composer with this work instead of showing signs of transitioning into a romantic composer.  For the record, the movements are (i) Adagio molto – Allegro con brio; (ii) Andante cantabile con moto; (iii) Menuetto: Allegro molto e vivace; and (iv) Finale: Adagio – Allegro molto e vivace. [Note: We heard it in Avery Fisher.]

There were eight first violins and two double basses used in this symphony.  The orchestra’s roster lists 21 first violins and 8 double basses, which actually shocked me a little bit.  My understanding is a lot of European countries heavily subsidize their artistic organizations, perhaps this is a symptom of that?

In any event, we got out at around 9:30 pm and it was still light outside.  We were back in our hotel at around 10 pm.

Frohsinn-Cacilia Choir of Interlaken, Switzerland. Erich Roth – Conductor. June 3, 2012.

Schlosskirche Interlaken, Switzerland (Seat Rear Right Bench CHF20.)

Program

Triumphszene aus der Oper AIDA by Verdi (1813-1901).

Messa di Gloria by Rossini (1792-1868).

Artists

Orchestra ad hoc.  Concertmaster: Daniela Ianos-Latsch.

Beatrice Ruchti, Soprano; Pascal Marti, Tenor; Christoph Meinen, Tenor; Martin Weidmann, Bass.

We saw a poster for this concert at the Interlaken West train station the day before, and after asking the front desk person at our hotel we figured out where it was going to happen.  We got back from our tour early (it was cloudy) and got to the church 10 minutes before start time.  All the seats were sold out, but they put out benches at CHF 20 each.  Those were soon all gone.  I estimate about 400 people attended the concert.  The total number of musicians was at least a hundred.  They did perform this the day before though.

I didn’t know what to expect, but thought the Aida piece is always a crowd pleaser, and Rossini always wrote enjoyable operas, so he may do equally well with Masses.  We just saw his opera a few days before in Paris.

Overall the performance was very satisfying.  The most notable passage in the Aida piece is the trumpet announcement, and it was done with confidence.  The choir voices were not always done with precision or balance, but that is to be expected with (what I assume to be) an amateur choir.  The Mass sounded happy – even for the passage on Christ’s suffering.  The composition concluded with a rather complex movement by the choir, which they couldn’t quite get (I think even the conductor didn’t know how to get them back on track).  For tonight I was ready to ignore details like that, and simply enjoyed the concert.

The soloists – needed for the Mass - all had adequate voices; the church is on the small side after all.  Their dynamic range is quite good, although I would have like some softer passages.  Particularly worthy of mention are the English horn and the clarinet, they sounded great when accompanying a couple of soloists.

With my limited knowledge of Italian, Latin, and German, I actually could make out most of the libretto, which was very satisfying after my Paris experience.  I assume many conductors are left-handed, but had never seen one who held the baton in his left hand, until today.  Worked okay, except he dropped it during the last few minutes.

I believe most if not all of the musicians are from the surrounding area which doesn’t boast a very large population.  In that regard comparison with the Bach Choir of Bethlehem is inescapable in my mind.  I certainly enjoyed tonight much more than I did back in May.

Then I only have to drive about 2 hours from New Jersey to Bethlehem, PA.

Opera Paris – Rossini’s Le Barbier de Seville. May 29, 2012.

Opera Bastille, Paris, France.  Section Parterre (Seat E44, E115).

Story.  See before.

Conductor – Marco Armiliato.  Il Conte D’Almaviva – Antonino Sirgusa, Bartolo – Maurizio Muraro, Rosina – Karine Deshayes, Figaro – Tassis Christoyannis, Basilio – Carlo Cigni, Fiorello – Vladmimir Kapshuk, Berta – Jeannette Fisher, Un ufficiale – Lucio Prete.

We met up with Kin and his family in Paris, but couldn’t get them interested to see an opera; so Anne and I ended up going by ourselves.  The weather in Paris has been nice for the three days we have been here (today is May 30), shirt-sleeves weather, generally not too hot.

The building is relatively new (I don’t have reliable web access in the hotel I’m at, so can’t do the research), and is now the main venue for operas for Opera Paris.  The traditional opera house is still in use, and we saw a display at Musee d’Orsay, and can usually pick it out if we are at a high point (Basilicia Sacre Coeur, e.g.).  It remains impressive, I wonder if we will get to visit it the next couple of days.

I got tickets mostly because I wanted to try the opera at a different location, and because Paris has had a long opera tradition.  I also read somewhere that subtitles are available in both French and English.  Turns out tonight they had it only in French, which made the story basically unintelligible, even though I had some idea of what the storyline is.  Suffering from a huge jet-lag (or lack of sleep, sometimes they are the same), I just had a hard time keeping awake and had trouble concentrating while awake.

The sets are about the same level of complexity as what I remember of the Met production we saw a few years ago.  Certainly the rotating stage aspect was the same.  The costume and building designs were basically middle-eastern, which generally worked for this production.  Only problem is how many people from the area have “Count” in their titles.  The only possible reason is there is this “off script” segment they put in where Lindoro (Count Almaviva) became Football (Soccer) Player No. 10 and hammed it up a bit with his football techniques.  My son told Anne the actually person wearing No. 10 is Moroccan French – that would explain the many flags on stage at one point also.  While it certainly was interesting, I didn’t think the overall quality of the opera needed the division.

The acoustics of the hall is great.  Perhaps that’s because of our seats, or because the main hall is on the small side.  While sometimes I wish the voices would be a bit more sonorous, they generally projected clearly into our seats.  The orchestra seems a bit on the small side, but it produced a good sound.  The overture was quite enjoyable, the conducting having given it a slightly different interpretation.

There were these two men who, soon after they sat down in their seats, began to move to other empty seats, climbing over rows of seats at times.  The seats they had during the first half were claimed by their rightful owners after the intermission, so they ended up in their original seats.  While they are atypical (after all, they were two out of thousands), their behavior somehow adds to my view of Parisienne’s rudeness.

We didn’t get out of the concert until about 10:40 pm.  It was about 11:30 pm when we got back.  The metro was surprising busy this time of day.  Also, we happened to pass by the old opera house (Garnier) the next day.  It is an extremely imposing and ornate building.  I don’t know what the acoustics and seats are like, but certainly would like to be able to pay it a visit some time.

New York Philharmonic – Alan Gilbert, conductor; Glenn Dicterow, violin. May 26, 2012.

Avery Fisher Hall at Lincoln Center, First Tier (Seat BB107, $70).

Program

Carnival, Op. 92 (1891) by Dvorak (1841-1904).

Violin Concerto No. 1, Op. posth., BB 48a (1907-08) by Bartok (1881-1945).

Symphony No. 4 in F minor, Op. 36 (1877-78) by Tchaikovsky (1840-93).

It feels like it’s been a while that we last saw the New York Philharmonic.  It was actually April 20, a little over a month ago.  There have been six intervening concerts since we heard them last, perhaps that was one reason; the fact these concerts happened at other venues also contributed to my sense of coming home after being absent for a while.  Not something I would have expected.  This is also a “coming home” of some sort for the orchestra as they just completed a tour of the West Coast.

I was wondering what Dvorak’s Carnival would sound like, and reading the Program Notes didn’t help.  It did explain this was the second overture envisioned in Dvorak’s triptych of Nature, Life, and Love, and it even had an excerpt of a phrase called the “Theme of Nature.”  Turns out this was one of the more familiar pieces by Dvorak (perhaps just second to his New World Symphony in popularity).  It was fast, fun, furious, and most enjoyable.  The tempo was extremely fast and at times not everyone seemed to be able to keep up; to my taste they could slow it down somewhat and nothing would be taken away from the performance.

Bela Bartok wrote two violin concertos, with the second one being the much more popular one.  Indeed, while the first was completed in 1908, it wasn’t premiered until May, 1958 (Program Notes also says New York Philharmonic Premiere was in February, 1955, so I am a bit confused.)  When Bartok began the piece he had his girlfriend Stefi Geyer in mind.  While he was working on the concerto, he also began to have a discussion of his religion with her that eventually led to the breakup of the relationship.  Nonetheless, Bartok gave Geyer a copy of the score with the inscription “My Confession: For Stefi, from the times that were happy ones.  Although even that was only half-happiness.”  And the work wasn’t performed until 1958, a year and half after Geyer died (see confusion above.)  A good story-teller can probably make a great screenplay out of this.

How is the music?  Per the Program Notes, Bartok describes the first movement (Andante sostenuto [attacca]) as a depiction of an “idealized Stefi Geyer, celestial and inward”; the second (Allegro giocoso), a character that was “cheerful, witty, amusing,”  Given the background, one can describe the piece as melancholic, wistful, and regretful also.  I frankly didn’t get a lot out of it, although I was surprised how classical the last couple of minutes sounded.

In keeping with the “coming home” theme, having Dicterow come on stage doesn’t quite generate the excitement of other soloists.  He is a familiar face, and we often hear him do solo lines during the performances anyway.  As far as I could tell, he did a great job with the piece.  Lines were clean, technique flawless, and intonation great (much better than usual).   The violin’s sound was a bit weak against the full orchestra at times, but quite adequate (first tier seats don’t get the best acoustics, anyway.)  Yet every time he performs, I wonder about the choice of music.  Perhaps he is trying to establish a reputation as an interpreter of obscure or modern violin music; if so, he still has ways to go.  The applause was quite enthusiastic, and undoubtedly, or unfortunately, will encourage him to continue down this path.

Tchaikovsky’s fourth symphony was written about ten years before his fifth (which we heard at our last concert.)  Both symphonies have the word “fate” associated with it, and are both described as depressing.  However, Tchaikovsky’s mental outlook must have worsened a lot over ten years as the fourth sounded positively euphoric compared to the fifth (well, that was going a little too far.)  This symphony shares many of the characteristics of the later symphony, including a somewhat similar theme that gets worked many times.  The first movement (Andante sostenuto – Moderato con anima) is the most substantial, taking up 18 of the 45 or so minutes.  The second movement (Andantino in modo di canzone) began with an introduction by the oboe that got repeated in other sections multiple times.  The third movement (Scherzo.  Pizzicato ostinato: Allegro) was true to its description until close to the end.  It felt like a movement from a string serenade.  It continued without pause to the last movement – Finale: Allegro con fuoco – which was a bit too hurried in my view.  The audience went crazy and Gilbert introduced the different sections of the orchestra as he took his deserved bows.

It is interesting to contrast how Gilbert and Blomstedt led the two different symphonies.  Both pieces require a competent orchestra, and the conductor can decide how much control he wants to have on the performance.  Gilbert is more reserved (relatively) and in doing so managed a more nuanced rendition of the work.  Blomstedt seemed to be happy to let the orchestra take the lead, like a rider letting the horse go during the final stretch.  Were this a competition, my nod would go to Gilbert.  On the other hand, Blomstedt can take you on a more exhilarating ride.

One word about the brass section.  In general they did well, but did botch a couple of places.  In the big scheme of things this was not very important, but the mistakes (which happened early) did stick out.

This review was written in a hurry since I wanted to get it done before our 11-day trip (leaving later today.)  I wonder if I will have different or additional thoughts when I get to think more about it.

The New York Times Review is very positive.  The reviewer describes the Bartok piece as the program’s “most substantial draw.”  I wonder how many people came tonight because of this.

American Ballet Theater – Minkus’s La Bayadere. May 22, 2012.

Metropolitan Opera House at Lincoln Center – Dress Circle (Seat C7, $68).

Choreography by Natalia Makarova, after Marius Petipa

Music by Ludwig Minkus, specially arranged by John Lanchbery

Conductor – Charles Barker; Nikiya – Veronika Part, Solor – Marcelo Gomes, The Radjah Dugumanta – Gennadi Saveliev, Gamzatti - Gillian Murphy, The High Brahmin – Victor Barbee; Sarah Lane, Devon Teuscher and Yuriko Kajiya – Lead Shades.

Story.  Nikiya, a beautiful temple dancer, rejects the love of the High Brahmin; she instead falls in love with the warrior Solor.  The Brahmin vows to kill Solor as a result.  Separately, the Radjah wants to reward Solor by decreeing that he marry Gamzatti, the Radjah’s daughter.  Solor is overwhelmed by Gamzatti’s beauty, and, not wanting to defy the Radjah, agrees to marry her.  After being told of Nakiya’s love for Solor, the Radjah wants to have her killed.  Gamzatti meets with Nikiya which results in Nikiya trying to kill her.  At the wedding of Solor and Gamzatti, Nikiya is asked to dance.  She is bitten by the snake hidden in her bouquet and dies after refusing the antidate.  Solor is grief-stricken and, being under the influence of opium, dreams of Nikiya.  As the wedding ceremony of Solor and Gamzatti progresses, the gods become angry and destroys the temple and all the celebrants.  The ballet ends with Nikiya and Solor united again.

The story is simple enough, but doesn’t really hang together on close examination.  Few people go to ballets to hear a gripping story anyway, so that’s okay.  The ballet is also quite long, with the three acts lasting about 60, 40 and 20 minutes.  With two intermissions thrown in, the entire show is about 2 hours 45 minutes.  All together there is a lot of dancing and music.

The three principals (Solor, Nikiya and Gamzatti) all put in enjoyable performances.  Not knowing much about ballet, I can’t tell if they are virtuoso performances, but some of the movements look difficult enough, and the audience certainly applauded quite enthusiastically.  ABT has a very international staff: Gomes is from Brazil, Hart from Russia, and Murphy is American.  The group dancers also did well, although I often wonder if they can’t be more together as a group.  One dancer did trip and fall – it was when she first came in, so Anne though perhaps the stage was slippery.  From the smile on her face, she seemed okay.  Act II began with the descent of The Shades (spirits); they appeared one by one and eventually lined up six across and four deep.  The whole process took a while, but the Act itself was pleasant enough – even though it was Solor dreaming about the dead Nakiya.

The music is on the straight-forward side, written mostly to support the choreography.  There were quite a few solo passages (harp, flute, violin, cello, and perhaps others), and the soloists all did well.  On the other hand, I suspect in and of itself there is not much drama in the score.  I wonder how it would work if performed as a stand-alone piece.  The orchestra sounded well, albeit uninspired.

The sets are on the simple side, with the exception of Act III.  Even there we have only a staircase leading up to an altar.  A dance by a golden boy started Act III (it is described as a bronze idol in the program.)  Both Anne and I had always thought, after watching a James Bond movie, that one way to murder someone was to paint that person all gold; evidently that is not so.

If you ignore the costumes, there is not a lot of Indian in this ballet that supposedly happened in India.  Not the music, not the dance movements (most of them, anyway), and – in the case of Act II – not even the costume, which Anne observed to be standard ballet costume.  This seems to be very different from the attitude taken by opera production folks who strive for authenticity.

Perhaps the sign of a great performance is it looked effortless.  By that measure this was a great performance.  Or this could be it is easy to meet non-existent or low expectations.  Regardless, I enjoyed it.

It appears this ballet is a part of ABT’s standard repertoire, and I managed only to find a review from May 2010.  The reviewer goes into great contortion about the possibilities of the ballet, but is ultimately disappointed at the performance he saw.  Interestingly, Gamzatti and Solor were played by the same artists.  I knew there was something about Gillian Murphy, and the review pointed it out: “Will Gillian Murphy discover how to use the Bette Davis features of her face?”

We ate a light meal at home before we drove into the city.  And we found street parking that cost only 50 cents (for the 10 minutes before 7 pm).  Traffic was light both ways.

New Jersey Symphony Orchestra – John J. Miller, conductor. May 11, 2012.

The Cathedral Basilica of the Sacred Heart, Newark, NJ, Preferred Seating ($25).

Program

Symphony No. 9 in D minor, Op. 125, “Choral” by Beethoven (1770-1827).

Artists

Archdiocesan Festival and Cathedral Choirs

Elizabeth Perryman, Soprano; Mary Clare McAlee, Mezzo-Soprano; Theodore Chletsos, Tenor; Gustavo Ahualli, Bass-Baritone

Recently we went to all three of the New York Philharmonic "Modern Beethoven" series and heard six of the symphonies.  We also found out about this concert while we were at NJ PAC, and we had known for a while about the Sacred Heart Cathedral in Newark.  Since the tickets cost $25 each to boot, it was a no brainer.  We got up at around 6:30 am this morning for a meeting (in Lancaster, PA), and didn’t get back home until around 5 pm, so we felt a little rushed.  Parking was not a problem – the church had a reasonably sized lot, and we got there early enough to get a space.

The cathedral is quite cavernous, high ceiling, traditional layout, and seats quite a few (they can crowd 4000 in, not sure how many seats.)  It may be a great place for holding worship services, but as a concert hall it certainly has it shortcomings.  First, even though we were seated in the choir section, the stage (apse and transept) is quite high and consequently we had a limited view of the performers beyond the first row violinists.  We couldn’t tell if the choir was already seated (turns out it was.)  The construction of the apse and the high ceiling make the hall a great echo chamber.  All the voices (instrument and vocal) sounded as if they had gone through a blender, and there was a reverb of two seconds or so when the music was done (I kind of counted after the last note was played.)  The good news for the artists is there is a charitable excuse for the muddled performance, and a muddled performance it was.

With the correct yardstick, the overall performance is not that bad.  But the yardstick would be one appropriate for an amateur organization, not a professional one: everyone mostly sang in tune, the orchestra – especially the strings - was reasonably precise (at least appeared to be), and the conductor kept good time, with a bit of dynamics thrown in every now and then.  The soloists all shouted, but were heard clearly (I think they were in front and their voices didn’t suffer as much processing.)  On the down side, the timpani sounded out of tune, the choir sopranos couldn’t quite get to the high notes, and the conductor did little more than keeping time.

Despite all my unease, I still found myself enjoying the concert.  I can also appreciate the effort put in by the organizers and performers to make this happen.  The audience certainly showed their appreciation by their long ovation.

This must be a big deal for the Diocese of Newark.  It is therefore quite inexplicable how they messed up the cover of the program: Beethoven (1740-1792).  Web search says these are the dates for Johann van Beethoven, Ludwig’s father.

It took us a good 20 minutes to get out of the parking lot afterwards.  We had more than enough time to listen to my iPod’s version of the last movement.  It sounded like a completely different piece of music, even allowing for the engineering that could happen with the recording.

Bach Festival Day 2, Bach Partitas for Harpsichord, Charlotte Mattax Moersch. May 5, 2012.

Peter Hall at Moravian College, Bethlehem, PA (Open Seating, $27).

Program: Bach and the Art of the Dance

Partita I in B Flat Major, BWV 825.

Partita V in G Major, BWV 829.

Partita III in A Minor, BWV 827.

Partita IV in D Major, BWV 828.

My expectations were quite low for this concert, for several reasons.  One is I am not a fan of the harpsichord, two is (should be obvious by now) I am not crazy about Bach, and three, yesterday’s experience wasn’t the greatest.  Yet the program held for me some surprises.

The smallish audience (perhaps around 100 people) and the ambience of Peter Hall helped.  They provided a level of intimacy one might expect of a harpsichord performance.  The Hall was recently renovated, with some nice restored stained glass window letting in a soft light into the room (there was also fluorescent lighting.)

Our friend David loves Bach, so he brought along an analysis of the five pieces that would be performed, with a lot of numbers on meter, length of piece, metronome markings (although metronomes were not around in Bach’s time), and duration.  When I first read it, I was dismayed at the duration of the two pieces that make up the second half of the program: they add up to close to an hour!   More on that later.

The harpsichord must have been state-of-the-art in its day.  Not being a mechanical engineer, I do not fully appreciate the genius that goes into the design of the instrument.  But things look complicated enough; to generate the different sounds the artist can make, many different contraptions are put in place, such as choirs and keyboards.  Even so, the instrument’s range is quite limited compared to what can be done with the modern piano.  People do play the same composition (including Bach’s Partitas) on both instruments, it would be nice to compare how they sound.  I also will have some more to say about this.

Charlotte Mattax Moersch teaches the instrument at the University of Illinois, and comes with great credentials per the Program (of course she would.)  My first reaction was, too bad she chose this as her instrument.  Surprisingly, the music actually grew on me as it went on.  Perhaps David’s analytical chart helped, and I also had fun trying to learn the different characteristics of the different dances (e.g., what makes something a sarabande), even though I learned little afterwards.

Moersch enunciated the different lines very well, and at times I found myself enjoying how they fit together.  So it was a pity that just at the point I was lost in the performance that she mangled her page turning and stumbled a bit.  After the first two pieces, David told us he was very excited to hear all the repeats Bach meant to have, and how we got the symmetry that Bach intended.  That remark kind of flew over my head (but wait, I have more to say.)

If one counts the time the pieces would total per David’s chart, and throws in a short break of ten minutes, you’ll get a program that lasts about two hours.  A lot of music for one sitting, probably bearable.  But the next event (lunch) would start two hours after this, and the emcee mentioned to the audience (and evidently the performer) that we will try to speed up the second part of the program.  Moersch did tell the audience she would try to do that, but that she could do only so much.  Turns out she could do a lot: she skipped most (if not all) of the repeats.  The 55 minutes of music got shortened to 35 or so minutes.  Given what I have said so far, this should be a welcome change.  But it isn’t.  I am sure she didn’t play at a quicker tempo (actually one of the correntes sounded slow), so not taking the repeats made the music felt rushed.  And things also didn’t feel right, possibly due to the lack of symmetry that David speaks of?

After my first day, I was wondering if I would get Bach-fatigue after these two days.  To my surprise, I didn’t.  I am not a convert yet, and I probably would decline another invitation to the next Bach festival (other than to be nice), but I certainly won’t mind a dose of this composer every now and then.  That was suspiciously like the sentiments I expressed after watching the Ring operas in Seattle.

In any case, we were among the many that lingered a little bit afterwards taking in the instrument and the room.  We (Yees, Wangs, and we) went to lunch at Bethlehem Brewery.  Reasonably priced dishes that tasted quite good: I had the BBQ ribs marinated in local beer.  Indeed there are lots of different cuisines represented by the Main Street restaurants: Irish, Spanish, Thai, and what I imagine are German.

On our drive back to New Jersey, we played Partita IV on my iPhone, by Glenn Gould.  Hearing it played on the piano is very different from hearing it on the harpsichord.  I did find myself wondering, Bach must have written this piece with the capabilities and limitations of the harpsichord in mind, what would he think of Gould’s performance?  Ah, the early makings of a musicologist and music historian.

A word about the Bach festival.  If it is meant to showcase the Choir and the Orchestra, they really should work harder at improving the quality of their musicianship.  If it is meant to celebrate Bach and his compositions, they could cut down on their own programs and substitute outside artists and groups.

Bach Festival Day 1, The Bach Choir of Bethlehem, Greg Funfgeld, conductor. May 4, 2012.

Events attended (all at Lehigh University):

Distinguished Scholar Lecture – Nicholas Kenyon: Bach in the 21^st Century, Black Box Theatre, Zoellner Arts Center (free).

Bach Cantatas, Packer Memorial Church (Lower Transept Seat E14, $27).

Dinner and Discussion – Larry Lipkis ($35).

Bach Cantatas, Packer Memorial Church (Lower Transept Seat E14, $27).

Soloists:

Agnes Zsiqovics, soprano; Rosa Lamoreaux, soprano; Daniel Taylor, countertenor; Benjamin Butterfield, tenor; William Sharp, baritone; and Daniel Lichti, bass.

Our friends David and Vivien have been going to this annual event every year since 1999.  They had mentioned this event to us a couple of years ago, but we had never been able to make it until this year.

The Bach Choir of Bethlehem claims a heritage extending to the colonial period, and was the choir that introduced Bach’s Mass in B minor to the United States.  Indeed they now perform this work every year (afternoon of second day), so claims David and Vivien.  We didn’t get tickets for this concert for a couple of reasons: we needed to be back home Friday reasonably early to prepare for a Sunday event, and we were afraid that we would be “Bached out” by the time we get to this program.  Turns out we were okay with the Sunday preparation, and, surprisingly, we didn’t get Bached out, either – although I don’t regret not having gone to that concert either.

Bethlehem is also an interesting city.  While we are only a short 80 or so minutes away, and must have driven past it on US78 many times, this was actually the first time we visited.  Indeed we went to Bethlehem, Israel last fall, before we visited this town.  It was first settled by Moravians who came because of persecution back home, and Moravian College is part of that heritage (even though the college is now secular).  The Bethlehem Hotel claims to be the oldest hotel in the USA, and indeed many buildings claim to go back to around 1740.  Despite the demise of its once strong steel industry, the town, or at least the parts of town we saw, seems to be holding its own.

The talk by Nicholas Kenyon traced how Bach has been interpreted differently through the ages, and he used quite a few sound tracks to prove his point.  I am sure interpretation of Bach evolves.   I still remember when I was a student reporter during a Hong Kong Music Festival, I covered a competition where the judge would disqualify any performer who would interpret Bach in an ”erroneous” (i.e., romantic) manner. That was more than 40 years ago; things seem quite a bit different today.  However, one wonders if a different point can be made if one uses different sounds tracks from the different eras.

The choir is actually quite large at about 80 singers (their website says 100).  The orchestra is quite large also, with 6 first and 6 second violins, for instance.  Most interestingly, there are four oboes, which seem too many for this orchestra.  Unfortunately, large doesn’t always equal good.  There were many more women than men in the choir, and the weakness of the male voices was evident.  Interestingly, except for the basses, all the string players are women.

A total of five cantatas were performed: 79 – Gott der Herr ist Sonn un Schild, 170 – Vergnugte Ruh, beliebte Seelenlust, 4 – Christ lag in Todesbanden, 80 – Ein feste Burg ist unser Gott, and 21 – Ich hatte viel Bekummernis.  The Program for the Festival goes into considerable detail about them, and the dinner speaker also gave some pointers on what one should listen for (he covered only a limited number of themes.)  We have a mixture of arias, recitatives, and chorales.  No. 170 was all solos by the countertenor Daniel Taylor.  There was extensive use of a solo oboe and basso continuo, where the cello figured prominently.

While there are some high points in the performances, most of the time I thought they were just mediocre.  With Bach, “architecture” (harmony, counterpoint, etc.) is very important, and I thought on many occasions the lines were blurred, entrances blundered, and balance butchered.

I don’t know if this choir is the acknowledged Bach organization, and I feverishly hope not.  At dinner we met some people who have been attending these concerts for decades.  Some fly in every year, some even move to the area so they could come to these and other Bach concerts.  I can’t begin to fathom why.  I am quite sure Bach deserves a better Bach choir.

The choir has been under the direction of Greg Funfgeld since 1983, and no doubt has improved tremendously over the years, as the Program hints (I shudder to think what it was like in 1983.)  On the other hand, could the sloppiness and staleness be in part due to lack of new ideas?

Orpheus Chamber Orchestra with Viviane Hagner, violin. April 28, 2012.

Stern Auditorium at Carnegie Hall, Section Parquet Right (Seat Y14, $25).

Program

Scherzo for Strings (1900) by Franz Schreker (1878-1934).

Romance No. 2 in F major for Violin and Orchestra, Op. 50 (1798) by Beethoven (1770-1827).

Violin Concerto No. 5 in A Minor, Op. 37 (“Gretry”) (1858-61) by Henry Vieuxtemps (1820-1881).

Pendulum IX: “Machina/Humana” (2012) by Alex Mincek (b. 1975).

Symphony No. 40 in G minor, K.550 (1788) by Mozart (1756-1791).

Tonight’s concert started at 7 pm, we had a late lunch (started around 2:15 pm) with Ellie and Kuau, so we decided not to have dinner before.  We got to the area reasonably early and had a little time to stroll around before heading to the venue.  It was it nice day: after an unseasonably warm winter, spring has turned out to be much dryer and it bit cooler than usual.

These Orpheus concerts are seldom sold out in my experience, and today’s attendance was lighter than usual.  Even though one hears Hagner's name every now and then, she certainly does not have the drawing power of a Shaham or an Ohlsson, so the low attendance is probably understandable.

This is the first time we see Hagner in person, and she looks more Asian, and younger than the publicity photo would lead one to think.  A wiki-search indeed indicates her mother is Korean and she was born in 1977.  She plays the 1717 Sasserno Stradivarius loaned to her by the Nippon Music Foundation.

The Beethoven romance is known to most violin students.  It is quite easy, and is seldom heard live for the simple reason that it is difficult to design a program where it fits.  While the sound produced by Hagner was sweet, and the balance with the orchestra was good, it was a rather flat performance. Actually I am sure many in the audience – myself included – must think they can do an equally credible job with the piece.

For lack of a better comparison, Vieuxtemps to the violin is somewhat like Czerny to the piano: best known for works written for the student.  Granted, some of these students can be quite advanced.  This Vieuxtemps concerto is actually quite difficult, not quite approaching a Sibelius or a Tchaikovsky, but certainly a Wieniawski or a Brahms.  The Program Notes confirms this by saying the piece was written as a competition piece, with the third movement added in 1861.  The three movements are Allegro non troppo – Adagio – Allegro con fuoco, played without pause, and with the last movement lasting all of one minute.  It is quite perplexing why this was chosen for the evening, while it demands some degree of virtuosity from the soloist, it lacks the intensity of a true virtuoso piece.  Musically I have no idea if the piece really goes anywhere.

I, for one, cannot conclude what level Hagner as an artist is from tonight’s concert.  So far I can only go with “she is an excellent violin student.”

Project 440 is the name given to how Orpheus marks its fortieth anniversary by commissioning four works.  Alex Mincek is one of them, which is straightforward enough.  The little twist is tonight wasn’t the premiere: it was first played a few days ago in Tennessee.  I guess that’s the first location of the orchestra’s tour of this series.  The idea of a Pendulum is clever enough.  For this one it is supposed to transition from a machine to a human being.  For 9 of the 11 minutes I heard mostly machine, with the human taking over only towards the end.  I can picture in my mind several ways one can make the transition more interesting, but this composer’s version isn’t any of them.

The Mozart symphony is one of the more familiar ones, and tonight it started well enough.  It is a little over thirty minutes, and consists of four movements Molto allegro, Andante, Menuetto: Allegretto, and Finale: Allegro assai.  As the piece progressed, however, things began to unravel.  Anne would use the phrase “they got ahead of themselves” to describe the chaos.  Both of us agree this performance makes for a strong case why a conductor is necessary.

Before the Mozart piece there was a short interview of bassoonist Frank Morelli by WQXR’s Naomi Lewin.  The performance was being broadcast live, and they basically talked a bit about how Mozart added to the bassoon repertoire.  I didn’t get much from it, though.

The Program Notes say very little about the first piece (Scherzo for Strings by Schreker), and fittingly I don’t remember much about it either as I type this two days later.

That, perhaps, is a good way to describe tonight’s performance: quite forgettable.  I just got a renewal notice from Orpheus for next year, and to my amusement they no longer offor the special package price of $25 per concert.  It is now around $70 each.  Perhaps financially they have to do that, but since I may not renew even at the old price, it is probably unlikely that I will do it at the new price.  And there are always people wanting to sell tickets outside the concert hall anyway, on the rare occasion that I want to see a performance.