The International Organ Summer Hallgrimskirkja 2016 - Sigrun Magna Thorsteinsdottir, organist. July 7, 2016.

Hallgrimskirkja, Reykjavik (ISK 2000).

Program

Konan og drekinn by Hildigunnur Runarsdottier (b. 1964)

-          A woman clothed with the Sun

-          The Salvation and the Power

-          Michael’s Angels

Chorale, op. 3, No. 1 in B-dur and Andante, op. 3, No. 5 in a-moll by Fanny Mendelssohn Hensel (1805-1874).
Festal March (1993) and Adoration (1951) by Florence B. Price (1887-1953).
Fiesta by Emma Lou Diemer (b. 1927).

This church, designed with a basalt theme, is the tallest building in Reykjavik.  The Klais Concert Organ dominates the entry to the building.  Quoting the brochure, the organ has 4 keyboards and pedals, 72 voices and 5275 pipes.  It is 15 meters high, weighs about 25 tons, and the largest pipes are about 10 meters tall.  The brochure makes the further claim that the organ has an international reputation as a magnificent concert instrument.

Hallgrimskirkja.  The columns are supposed to represent basalt lava flows.  One can ride an elevator to the top of the tower and get a 360-degree view of Reykjavik.

The pipe organ dominates the backwall of the nave (i.e. the main entrance).

Closeup view of the keyboard.

During summer various organ concerts are held at the church, including one every Thursday.  We caught this one after our city tour.  We were surprised that there were over 100 people in attendance.

Today’s concert was an all-woman affair.  The soloist is the organist at the Akureyri Church.  There is a short description of each work in the program.  Of note is Florence B. Price, who was African American.  She lived during a period when a black person wasn’t welcome everywhere in the country, and moved around until she settled in Chicago.

We sat very close to the organist, and could see how she worked the different parts of the instrument.  At some point someone had to help with some switches.

They served coffee afterwards, which makes this very much like a church function.  We took the elevator to the top of the tower and had a great view of the city.

Reykjavik Classics @ Harpa – Mozart. July 5, 2016.

Eldborg Hall at Harpa, Reykjavik, Iceland. Orchestra Center (ISK 3500).

Program

Prograasy in D minor, K. 397 by Mozart.

Flute Quartet in D major, K. 285.

Artists.  Nina Magret Grimsdottir.  Ari Thor Vihjalmsson, violin; Ashildur Haraldsdottir, flute; Sigurdur Bjarki Gunnarsson, cello; Thorunn Osk Marinosdottir, viola.

We landed at the airport this morning, and after putting our luggage in a locker, we went on a puffin-seeing cruise before we came to Harpa to purchase tickets.

Harpa was started during Iceland’s halcyon banking days, but work had to stop as many of the banks that funded the project had collapsed during the financial crisis of 2007.  There was much discussion of what should be done with the half-completed building, from tearing it down to repurposing it.  The final decision was to proceed with the $200 million (US) project, but at a lower pace.  Harpa was completed in 2012.

It is a building enclosed by a glass structure consisting of mostly polygons, situated right at the water front.  Most of Reykjavik’s buildings in this area have a conservative design, so the building really stands out.

Harpa as seen from the Harbor.

What we were told was that there was tremendous demand from “international visitors” (tourists?) to hear the acoustics of the hall.  Since there are usually few classical concerts during the summer, this series of short concerts filled the gap.  Hopefully the modest ticket price can provide some struggling artists with support.

Mozart’s Fantasy in D minor is a familiar piece for piano students, and we had heard it practiced multiple times in our house.  Grimsdottir, who is also the artistic director for Reykjavik Classics, was the soloist.

The Mozart piece is mostly flute, with several thematic violin passages.  The players, especially the flutist, put in a spirited performance.  The movements are Allegro, Adagio, and Rondo.

Indeed our seats had great acoustics.  All the musicians, except the violist, were trained at some point in the US.

Curtain Call.

The hall seats 1,800, perhaps 50 people showed up.  The quartet played a short encore piece, thus we end up over the 30-minute time limit by a little.

It was an enjoyable half hour, and we got to see the inside of the concert hall.

Prima Trio. June 28, 2016.

Richardson Auditorium, Princeton.  Balcony Center.

Members: Anatasia Dedik, piano; Gulia Gurevich, violin & viola; Boris Allakhverdyan, clarinet.

Program

Trio for Clarinet, Viola and Piano, E flat, K. 498 “Kegelstatt” by Mozart (1756-1791).

Suite for Clarinet, Violin and Piano, Op. 157b by Darius Milhaud (1892-1974).

The Klezmer’s Wedding by Srul Irving Glick (1934-2002).

Trio for Clarinet, Violin and Piano by Khachaturian (1903-1978).

Otono Porteno (from Cuatro estachones portenas) byPiazzolla (1921-1992).

Serenade for Three by Schickele (b. 1935).

I was under the impression that there would be several pieces where the string instrument would be the viola, it turns out only piece that fit the bill was the Mozart piece.  Given Mozart's affinity for the viola and the clarinet, it is quite natural he would compose a piece for those instruments.

David explained to me “Kegelstatt” was a bowling game popular during Mozart’s time.  The three movements are Andante, Menuett, and Allegro.  As usual, I had some trouble picking out the viola part even though there were only two other instruments.  In any case, there was much interplay among the three players, and they did quite well.

Milhaud was born in France, but spent a lot of time in California writing music for movies.  The Suite was based on incidental music he wrote for a play “The Traveller without Luggage.”  When I looked up his Wikipedia entry, he had a long list of students, including Philip Glass and Peter Schickele, whose music was also on today’s program.

The movements of the Suite are Ouverture, Divertissement, Jeu, and Introduction et Final.

Per one of the musicians, Glick was also one of Milhaud’s students (confirmed by his Wiki entry.)  Klezmer’s Wedding is a lively dance that has a heavy dose of Jewish melodies.  To me it could easily have been lifted from the musical The Fiddler on the Roof.

The Khachaturian trio was how this group got together in 2004, while all were students at Oberlin College.  Khachaturian was an Armenian living in St. Petersburg – the clarinetist is Armenian (born in Azerbaijan to American parents), and the pianist is from St. Petersburg.  The trio contains reference to Uzbek melodies, the country the string player hails from.  From that start they have since built up quite a repertoire and record at various competitions.  I probably know more than one piece by this composer, but I think “sabre dance” when the name Khachaturian is mentioned; and this trio is nothing like that.

We just heard Winter and Spring by Piazzolla at the New York Phil Snug Harbor concert, today we got to hear Autumn.  Today’s arrangement is for three instruments.  I got the fast-slow-fast structure of the piece, but didn’t get any reference to Vivaldi’s work.

We heard of Schickele during our college days, what I remember was he wrote “funny” music, often for an electric keyboard.  That may or may not be correct.  What I heard today was quite serious.

The group did a short encore afterwards, making this a rather long program. The players took turn to say something about the piece that was about to be played.  I thought when playing the violin the musician was often a bit off; I wonder if switching between two instruments, with the different stop distances, may affect the muscle memory a little bit.  I did appreciate how well each of them played, and how well they worked together.  While many of the pieces can be considered contemporary or even modern, they all sounded quite melodious and relatively easy to get.

We got to Princeton early and had a leisurely dinner with David and Vivien.  It was good to have some time to catch up, even though we do see each other quite often.

Aizuri Quartet. June 23, 2016.

Richardson Auditorium, Princeton.  Balcony Center.

Quartet members: Miho Saegusa, violin; Ariana Kim, violin; Ayane Kozasa, viola; Karen Ouzounian, cello.

Program

String Quartet No. 6 in B-flat major, Op. 18 by Beethoven (1770-1827).

Blueprint by Caroline Shaw (b. 1982).

String Quartet No. 3 in A major, Op. 41, No. 3 by Schumann (1810-1856).

This was the first of the four chamber music concerts hosted by the Princeton University Summer Concerts organization.  As usual, it was David and Vivien who brought the series to our attention.  Since we just returned from Maine a couple of days ago, and had attended the Snug Harbor concert the day before, Anne decided to forego the event.  I was quite ready to go.

The quartet consists of four young women, and was formed in 2012.  David mentioned to me there was a recent change in membership as one of the violinists left for a solo career.  In any case, the violinists switch the first and second violin roles, with Saegusa playing the lead in Beethoven and Schumann, and Kim the Shaw piece.

Since I am not very good with chamber music, my reaction to the pieces was “that’s pretty good.”  Particularly so since I am writing this several days later, and had heard a second concert in the series just now, thus any specific recollections have been wiped clean.

A Princeton professor, Scott Burnham, introduced each of the three pieces.  His descriptions were simple enough, a few sentences about each of the movements, using familiar words and phrases like brilliant, emotion, gallop, and descending fifth.  While they helped me look for particular patterns, they were not all that “educational,” and I have forgotten most of them by now.

The movements of the Beethoven quartet are (i) Allegro con brio; (ii) Adagio ma non troppo; (iii) Scherzo: Allegro; and (iv) La Molinconia: Adagio-Allegretto quasi Allegro.  For the Schumann piece: (i) Andante espressiv - Allegro molto moderato; (ii) Assai agitato; (iii) Adagio molto; and (iv) Finale: Allegro molto vivace - Quasi Trio.

The exception was the piece Blueprint, both the composer and the composition turned out to be quite interesting.  Burnham described how he heard on the news that a certain Caroline Shaw won the Pulitzer Prize in music composition and marveled at that winner as having the same name as one of the students in Princeton’s music department before it dawned on him that it was their Caroline Shaw that won the prize.  At age 30, she was the youngest winner in the music category. Blueprint was written for the Aizuri Quartet.  The word Aizuri-e in Japanese has something to do with the blue ink used in woodblock print that was imported to Japan from Europe.  What Shaw did was to “reduce” Beethoven’s Quartet we just heard into its fundamental elements, and then wrote a new quartet based on those elements, thus the title “Blueprint.”  The music equivalent of Picasso’s cubism, I guess.

If I ever write about paintings, I would say I may appreciate Picasso at a gut level, but I can never make heads or tails of how cubism informed his work.  (And I have a book on Picasso, yet to be read.)  If someone goes through the two compositions and explain to me how the Beethoven blueprint leads to Shaw’s quartet, I may be able to follow.   But I probably won’t hear it.  I joked to David that it sounded more like it was based on Quartet No. 5.

In reading up on her on Wikipedia, I found out she is a violinist, a singer, and a composer.  And another curious fact about her: she is the great-great-grand daughter of the conjoined twins Chang and Eng.

The concert was generally a good experience.  The individual players all seem to do very well.  I only wish I had a more solid grounding in chamber music to be able to appreciate it more.

We didn’t meet up for dinner as David and Vivien had a family dinner with Daniel (whom we also know.)

New York Philharmonic – Frank Huang, leader/violin. June 22, 2016.

Snug Harbor Music Hall, Staten Island.  Seat center front.  ($0.)

Program

Selections from Las cuatro estacioes portenas (The Four Seasons in Buenos Aires), for violin and string orchestra (1965-70) by Piazzolla (1921-92).  Arr. L. Desyatnikov.

Le qquattro stagioni (The Four Seaons) (ca. 1715) by Vivaldi (1678-1741).

Yi-Heng Yang, harpsichord.

We had tickets to the regular season concert in which Vivaldi’s The Four Seasons was programmed, but had to give the tickets away because of a China trip.  So it was an easy decision when I found out about this free “Concert in the Park” event, especially since it would be held indoors, on Staten Island.

Music Hall at Snug Harbor

I don’t know much about Piazzolla, other than he had this tango sound.  Per the Playbill, the “Seasons” are among the most advanced examples of his New Tango style.  Indeed, the Playbill has more detailed description of how this work pays tribute to Vivaldi’s Four Seasons.  One example is each “Season” has a fast-slow-fast form, the other is the inclusion of some melodic allusions; I did get one or two of those.  The music is generally pleasant to listen to, but I can’t say I understood it, or enjoyed it.

The two seasons performed were Invierno porteno (Winter in Buenos Aires, 1970) and Primavera portena (Spring in Buenos Aires, 1969).

For us the excitement of Vivaldi was that Yi-Heng got to play the continuo part on the Harpsichord.  Of course I also wanted to hear Frank Huang, the new concertmaster.

Huang certainly was up to the technical challenge, and there were many in this piece, mostly in how fast some of the passages are.

The “orchestra” was properly named “Musicians from the New York Philharmonic” as it consisted of ten string players and the harpsichord.  Surprisingly I didn’t get as crisp a sound as I expected from such a small ensemble.  While the harpsichord as continuo was only supposed to provide “background,” I would have preferred a louder volume.

Curtain Call after Vivaldi's Four Seasons.

Another interesting observation: of the 12 players, 10 were Asians, 10 were women.  This speaks to the generational cultural shift in this organization, if not the country.

I was hoping to compare how the New York Phil and its concertmaster compare with their New Jersey counterparts (heard in November, 2015), and decided to cop out as I don’t have a clear winner.  How’s that for bravery, or lack thereof.

Snug Harbor is a nice location for a summer evening.  Chung Shu and Shirley came by our house to share a pizza before we headed up.  We could have packed a picnic and eaten there.  In any case, getting to it was relatively easy, and we could park right next to the concert hall!

New Jersey Symphony Orchestra – Jacques Lacombe, conductor; Joyce Yang, piano. June 11, 2016.

Count Basie Theater, Red Bank, NJ.  Balcony (Seat E102, $37.60).

Program

Night and the City (2010) by Rogerson (b. 1988).

Piano Concerto No. 3 in D Minor, Op. 30 (1909) by Rachmaninoff.

La Valse (1920) by Ravel (1875-1937).

Daphnis and Chloe Suite No. 2 (1912) by Ravel.

This is the farewell series led by Lacombe after a six-year stint with the NJSO.  Coupled with Joyce Yang playing Rachmaninoff’s piano concerto No. 3, one would think this is a concert not to be missed.  Leave it to New Jersey to have many empty seats in the small Count Basie Theater.  If one’s expectations are low, then that there were more in attendance today than usual is an encouraging sign.  One of the trustees came on to thank Lacombe (after thanking the sponsors) for taking NJSO to new heights; a statement I would generally agree with, and I have said multiple times the orchestra plays well under him.

The six-minute lead-off piece is by the young composer Chris Rogerson.  The piece describes his first experience living in a big city (Philadelphia).  As new music goes, I liked it very much.  It is quite sonorous, and describes a scene that somehow reminds me more of Van Gogh’s “Starry Night” than a busy Philly evening.  He is young (not yet 30) so should have a lot of time to improve his craft.  He came on stage at the end of the piece to take a bow.

I haven’t encountered Rachmaninoff’s Third that often in concert, but have heard it over my iPhone multiple times during some of the long flights I have taken.  Perhaps there is a reason it is not played that often, it is close to 40 minutes of non-stop virtuosic playing, with a break only here or there.  Joyce Yang burst onto the music scene a few years ago as a young woman, so I was looking forward to this first opportunity to hear her perform.

Overall I was disappointed.  Even when the first piano notes were played, I was surprised at how loud it was compared to the sound of the orchestra.  My usually complaint is the soloist gets overwhelmed, in this case it is the opposite.  With a few exceptions, the orchestra seemed to be whimpering along, afraid of intruding on the soloist.  While much of this might be attributable to the acoustics, but I don’t recall having this concern ever inside Count Basie.

I can’t comment on Yang’s technique, and am indeed very impressed with what I saw.  My major issue is the performance seemed to be simply stringing together a long series of difficult passages, there is no story, no conversation, and no engagement.  Impressive for most 25-year old pianists, but not quite at the level of a master.  (Yang was born in 1986.)  In any case, the applause afterwards was thunderous.

The three movements of the concerto are Allegro ma non tanto; Intermezzo: Adagio; and Finale: Alla breve.

We heard two Ravel pieces after the intermission.  By now I knew how La Valse started as waltz but devolved into rather dark music to reflect Ravel’s disappointment with humanity – this was a couple of years before the first world war.  Daphnis and Chloe was a ballet score Ravel written in cooperation with Sergei Diaghilev.  Suite No. 2 consists of three movements Lever du jour, Pantomine, and Danse generale.  They make up the final scene of the ballet where Daphnis and Chloe are united, and they mime the story of Pan and Syrinx, followed by a celebration of their love.  Both pieces are easy to get, although tonight I didn’t think La Valse sounded all that dark.  I gained some appreciation of how Ravel could use music to depict specific scenes (like sunrise and birds chirping.)

So that’s it, end of an era.  I was hoping Lacombe’s tenure would end on a higher note, he deserved it.  While I am generally impressed with how he brought high standards to the orchestra, I do feel things have plateaued for a while.  Where will Xian Zhang take this organization in the coming years?

New Jersey Symphony Orchestra – Jeremie Rhorer, conductor; Augustin Hadelich, violin. May 14, 2016.

NJPAC in Newark.  Orchestra (Seat G105, $52.)

Program

The Hebrides Overture, “Fingal’s Cave” Op. 26 (1829-30, revised until 1835) by Mendelssohn (1809-1847).

Violin Concerto in D Major, Op, 35 (1878) by Tchaikovsky (1840-1893).

Serenade No. 1 in D Major, Op. 11 (1857-58) by Brahms (1833-1897).

We got home after a 240 or so mile drive from Boston on Friday, the previous night.  And for today (Saturday) we needed to check into our hotel in Rockville, MD; we were planning on attending a 9:45 am service on Sunday.

Our daughter and others, after hearing this, all agreed the prudent thing to do was to skip the concert. But with Hadelich playing Tchaikovsky’s violin concerto, I really wanted to hear it.  So we decided to compromise by leaving after the first half of the program.

I usually don’t do any research, beyond reading the Program Notes, before I listen to a live concert.  Either I am that lazy, or I don’t want to be biased towards one particular interpretation.  (For similar reasons I don’t read the reviews either.)  There are those who swear by learning about the music as much as possible beforehand.  I imagine there are reasons to go one way or another.

Today I made the “mistake” of searching for the overture on YouTube, and listened to it.  It matched very well the description in today’s Program Notes, with the seas around the island calm at times, and stormy at others.  Tonight’s performance was at best competent, I had to really work on my imagination to picture the scenery. Perhaps it’s the unfavorable comparison to the YouTube tape, or it was simply an uninspired reading.

Fingal’s Cave is on an island that is just a little south from the Isle of Skye, a place we are visiting later this summer.  It would be interesting if we can find a way to see the cave.

The size of the orchestra remained the same for Tchaikovsky.  Hadelich put in a great performance, although the violin was slight off-tune after the first movement, some of which couldn’t be fixed as they were harmonics, but a bit of minor tuning before the second movement (and the enthusiastic applause) fixed the problem.

We were seated quite close to the stage, and I expected a great sound from the instrument.  Not that there was anything wrong with it, but the violin didn’t quite have the brilliance of a Stradivarius, and didn’t quite measure up to my memory of Hadelich’s previous performances.  The Program Notes doesn’t mention the violin, so let me try a web search now … the Wikipedia entry says he is still playing on the 1723 Stradivarius.  I also found out he suffered severe burns when he was a teenager and required extensive skin grafts during his recovery.

The applause was thunderous, and for encore he played Paganini’s Caprice No. 5.  It was close to perfect.  So readers of this blog won’t complain about my harsh grading, I considered the way he played No. 24 perfect, and this was certainly a better performance than the last time I heard him play it.  (So far he’s played Paganini’s caprices as encores for all three of the concerts.)

We have seen Rohrer conduct a couple of times before, leading the Mostly Mozart Festival Orchestra.  I described him as animated, and he was relatively subdued today.

We left Newark a bit after 9:15 pm, and it was about 1:30 am that we checked into the hotel in Rockville, MD.  It was worth the trouble to go to this concert.  

New York Philharmonic – Bernard Haitink, conductor. April 19, 2016.

David Geffen Hall at Lincoln Center.  Orchestra 1 (Seat Q103, $69.50).

Program

Symphony No. 9 in D major (1908-10) by Mahler (1860-1911).

I remember telling myself that I didn’t have a lot to say about this gargantuan piece (advertised at 79 minutes, probably lasted 10 minutes longer).  Due to family visits, this is more than a week after the event, so I probably have even less to say about it.

A listing of the movements gives a hint of how unconventional this composition is: (1) Andante comodo; (2) Im Tempo eines gemachlichen Landlers, etwas tappisch und sehr derb (In the tempo of a comfortable Landler, somewhat clumsy and very coarse); (3) Rondo: Burleske (Allegro assai, sehr trotzig) (Allegro assai, very insolent); and (4) Adagio (Sehr langsam und noch zuruckhaltend) (Very slow and even holding back).  Other than the third movement, the music was generally slow and sad; although I got only hints of coarseness and insolence in the middle movements.

I heard this piece in 2008, conducted by Lorin Maazel.  That blog entry actually contained a more detailed description of the music than I remember of this one; I probably took notes then.  I also mentioned that the piece lasted about 90 minutes.

However, I felt a bit differently this time.  The most noticeable difference of this piece is how much less it wanders compared to many of Mahler’s other symphonies.  That was even more marked in the case of the first movement, rather long at about 30 minutes.  I could hear motifs repeated throughout the movement.  Also, I didn’t find the ending repetitious at all this time; I was straining to listen to the notes as they slowly petered out, to good effect.  The first violins were not playing any notes towards the end, but all the players kept their bows in the playing position – except one who evidently didn’t get the memo.

The piece calls for solo passages from many of the principals, including quite a few by the concertmaster Huang.  Huang certainly didn’t have an intonation problem, but I can’t quite tell how good he is, yet.  Later in the season he will be playing Vivaldi’s Four Seasons, but we probably have to miss that concert.  Most section principals were at tonight's concert, but many associate principals were missing.

CS, who went with me, saw a video with Bernstein discussing this symphony.  He said the piece reflected the despair Mahler felt, at many levels.  First was his personal tragedy, he knew he didn’t have long to live because of his heart condition.  Then was his lament that the traditional symphony form was on its last legs (one would think he contributed to its demise, but he evidently didn’t think so.) Lastly, the world probably was in a very agitated state, as the first world war would occur in a couple of years.  Indeed the Playbill describes this symphony as “filled with intimations of yearning, nostalgia, regret, despair, isolation, resignation, and even personal solace.”

This was the first time I got to see Haitink conduct.  When I saw the stool on the conductor podium I was expecting him to walk out with a cane; he is 87, after all.  Instead, he only needed 30 or so seconds on the stool in between movements.  He was quite economical with his gestures, but was clearly in control.  There were several well-deserved curtain calls.

Bernard Haitink flanked by New York Philharmonic players. 

I could find the New York Times review tucked within an article talking about other performances of Mahler in New York (the review is titled “A Mahler Mini-Festival in New York.)  Only two, albeit positive, paragraphs were spent on the performance.

Anne couldn’t go, so we gave her ticket to CS’s neighbor.  Traffic was quite bad getting into town, so we could only share a sandwich from the Geffen Hall café before we had to rush into the auditorium.

San Francisco Symphony – Michael Tilson Thomas, conductor; Inon Barnatan, piano. April 15, 2016.

Prudential Hall at NJPAC.  First Tier (Seat B8, $37.50).

Program

Orchestra Variations (1958) by Copland (1900-1990).

Inscape (1967) by Copland.

Piano Concerto (1927) by Copland.

Symphony No. 2 in C major, Op. 61 (1846) by Schumann (1810-1856).

While surfing Goldstar.com a couple of weeks ago, I found out tickets for this concert were offered at a 50% discount.  A no-brainer as SFS and MTT are on the program.

Thomas actually described the first two pieces before they were performed.  I vaguely remember the Orchestra Variations can be called a concerto for the orchestra, and Inscape as starting on a 11-note chord, then resolving into simpler music for various parts of the orchestra, and ending on the same 11-note chord again.

If I have to name two Copland works, they would be Appalachian Springs (1944) and Billy the Kid (1938).  Both these works predate the first two pieces in the program, and the evolution of Copland as a composer clearly shows.

Copland’s description of Variations, cited in the Program Notes, is simple enough: a theme of dramatic characters followed by 20 variations and a coda.  The annotator adds more, grouping the piece into “Chapter 1” (through the 10^th variation), a slow movement (11), a scherzo (12-18), section of increasing speed (19-22), and a “magnificent spare-textured coda.”  All well and good, except the theme sounded more complicated than I thought, and I gave up on counting the variations after a few.  I suspect this music is more interesting studied on paper than heard with the ear.  The entire piece lasted perhaps 12 minutes, so things were going at a fast clip.

There are 12 notes in the chromatic scale, so I naturally wonder which note was skipped in the initial chord (calling it a chord is a bit of a stretch, in my opinion.)  Interestingly the chord sounded much more harmonious than I would expect.  I like the intervening passages that seemed to probe different aspects of new music.

A search of the web indicated some suspected Copland, whose music had been lyrical, was trying to stay relevant with his exploration of new styles of music writing.  The premiere of Inscape – commissioned by the New York Philharmonic and conducted by Leonard Bersetein – was not well-received.  I, on the other hand, would only attribute the “head-scratching” to my lack of understanding.

In contrast, the piano concerto was written early in Copland’s career, and was much easier to appreciate.  It consists of two movements played without pause: Andante sostenuto, and Molto moderato (molto rubato) – Allegro vivace.  Not only did it sound like the Copland I know, to me the jazz and “American” elements in the music made it sound like Gershwin on many occasions.  The Program Notes contains the composer description of the music, and it is relatively easy to follow.  This turns out to be the last composition Copland wrote in this style, remarking that American music could not possibly be confined to two dominant moods: the blues and the snappy number.

Inon Barnatan probably is an up-and-coming pianist, having been retained as NY Philharmonic’s artist-in-association.  He put in a delightful performance, often masquerading himself as a jazz pianist (successfully, I might add.)  We heard him last year performing Ravel’s F with the NY Philharmonic.

Curtain Call, Barnatan and Thomas.  

The other interesting aspect of the first two pieces is the number of percussionists they called for; at one point I counted six of them.

I am not familiar with Schumann’s second symphony, even though I had heard it a couple of times in the past few years.  The Program Notes describes this tribute to Bach with the notes B-flat/A/C/B-natural.  I tried very hard to listen for it, but failed.

The San Francisco Symphony is a large organization.  In addition to the many percussionists, they also have large sections – I counted 14 first violins, roster says 18.  They sounded precise, and had good dynamics. Unfortunately the acoustics at our seats were a bit flat, so I couldn’t characterize the sound.  The played the same program at Carnegie Hall twice before coming to NJPAC.  Attendance was okay, although there were quite a few empty seats in Tier 1.

Parking fee just jumped to $20 (from $17), so we parked at the hotel lot for $15.  I notice with some satisfaction that the lots were quite empty.

The New York Times review is of the Carnegie Hall performance.  It is generally positive, and provides more background on Copland's works.  The review did complain that the Schumann reading was a bit on the "sober" side.

Metropolitan Opera – Verdi’s Simon Boccanegra. April 14, 2016.

Metropolitan Opera at Lincoln Center.  Orchestra (Seat EE21, $25.)

Story.  The pirate Simon Boccanegra is elected doge of Genoa.  The daughter he has with Maria disappears when the old lady she was left with dies.  Maria’s mother (also named Maria) dies while being imprisoned by her father Fiesco who disapproves of Boccanegra.  Twenty-five years later baby Maria has grown up as Amelia, daughter of the wealthy Grimaldis, who are actually the Fiescos, who in turn isn’t aware of Maria’s true identity as their grand-daughter.  Amelia and Gabriele are in love, but Grimaldi wants her to marry Paolo. Gabriele has been plotting to overthrow the doge.  Boccanegra meets Amelia and by comparing portraits of her mother, they two recognize their father/daughter relationship.  Paolo attempt to kidnap Amelia is thwarted, and Boccanegra forces Paolo to curse himself.  By putting poison in Boccanegra’s water bottle, Paolo poisons the doge.  While Boccanegra suffers from the poison, all the relationships are sorted out.  Paolo is condemned to death, and Boccanegra pardons Gabriele and names him his successor.

Conductor – James Levine.  Paolo Albiani – Brian Mulligan, Simon Boccanegra – Placido Domingo, Jacopo Fiesco (aka Andrea Grimaldi) – Ferruccio Furlanetto, Maria (daughter of Boccanegra, aka Amelia Grimaldi) – Lianna Haroutounian, Gabriele Adorno – Joseph Calleja.

I tried but was unable to put together a story that both makes sense and describes the plot as it unveils.  While I think my summary hangs together, it skips over parts of the story that deals with the political climate at that time.  The most noticeable missing parts are how the government of a city-state worked, and the rivalry between Genoa and Venice.  There was also mention of Guelphs during the opera which I frankly didn’t understand.  (Per Wikipedia, Guelphs is a faction that supported the Holy Roman Emperor.)  To indicate how complex the plot is, the Playbill compares it to that of Il Travatore, another Verdi opera whose plot is difficult to summarize.  This opera also has the distinction of having a tragic beginning (death of Boccanegra’s love Maria) and a tragic end (his own death.)

CS mentioned to me a while ago he read a New York Times review of the performance.  Before I could stop him, he said the review wasn’t kind.  I asked if the reviewer complained about Domingo’s being a former tenor trying unsuccessfully to become a baritone, and that Levine was also past his prime; he basically said yes.  That didn’t stop us from wanting to see the opera, and we did so today, together with a couple of his friends.  Anne had too many things on her plate and couldn’t go.

Let’s start by saying of course things could have been better.  Domingo could have a stronger voice, Levine could have conducted a better performance.  But isn’t that always the case?  I am glad to have attended.  Exaggerating a bit to prove my point, instead of an A+ performance we saw only an A performance.

I haven’t seen Domingo at his prime – the first opera I remember seeing him in was Tan Dun’s “The First Emperor” in 2008 – so I don’t have any reference.  But he did a splendid job today.  His singing was rich and strong most of the time, and I didn’t notice any deficiencies in the lower registers.  Maybe a tad weak here or there, but I thought this role fitted well a singer who was at the twilight of his career (I mean “singing career,” I hope he has many good years as a conductor ahead of him.)  Similarly with Levine, while one has to sorry to see how Parkinson’s has ravaged him, he put in a great performance.  The orchestra sounded exquisite and precise.

The other principals were impressive, each fulfilling their roles brilliantly.  This was my first encounter with the Armenian soprano Lianna Haroutounian, she had a beautiful voice, and was a match for the others, even though it was one woman against many men.  Ferruccio Furlanetto - no spring chicken at 66 - demonstrated what a rich basso voice should sound like, and Joseph Calleja also did great as Gabriele Adorno.

The sets, first used in 1995, are quite elaborate: outside a castle for the prolog, a garden that reminds me of Tuscany for Act I Scene 1, the inside of a doge’s palace for Act I Scene 2, a room inside the palace for Act II, and a repeat of Act I Scene 2 in Act III.  Levine conducted the 1995 series, with Domingo in the role of Gabriele.  It was repeated in 2010 where Domingo played the title role.

A few years ago I caught this opera on TV, but saw it for only a few minutes.  I remember it starred a young and dashing Domingo (in hindsight he was probably playing Gabriele); I was blown away by this handsome singer.  For tonight he played the role of an old man.  Time marches on.  He could still fall impressively, though.

Curtain Call, with Domingo in the center.

The New York Times review is indeed unkind, suggesting Levine and Domingo should retire lest they tarnish their towering and colossal career, respectively.  Tonight’s auditorium was fuller than it has been for a while.  The reviewer also says Domingo has been booked as a singer far into the future.  I am glad the regular opera attendee doesn’t follow what they read in the paper.  The reviewer mentioned (grudgingly, no doubt) that the two will reunite next season in Nabucco.  Perhaps not at their prime, these two artists still hold their own, and they should do so with well-deserved pride.

New Jersey Symphony Orchestra – Xian Zhang, conductor; Jennifer Frautschi, violin. April 9, 2016.

Count Basie Theatre, Red Bank, NJ.  Balcony (Seat E101, $37.60).

Program

Marche Slave, Op. 31 (1876) by Tchaikovsky (1840-1893).

Violin Concerto, Op. 14 (1940, rev. 1948) by Barber (1910-1981).

Symphony No. 4 in F minor, Op. 36 (1878) by Tchaikovsky.

This is the first series with Zhang as the conductor after she was named the next music director of NJSO.  I had seen Zhang two or three times before, conducting the New York Philharmonic when she was an associate conductor there, and the New Jersey Symphony recently as a guest conductor.  CS, Shirley, and Agnes also came to the concert.

Calling this program “Zhang conducts Tchaikovsky” is only partially correct as there is also a Barber concerto.  Perhaps someone can Barber with Tchaikovsky, but not I.  Even though this is touted as “the most-performed” violin concerto by an American composer, it is still not program all that often.  A search of my blog indicated this having occurred twice: in 2015 with Lisa Batiashvili, and in 2010 with Gil Shaham.

The name Frautschi is quite familiar as there is a Laura who is with the Orpheus and Mostly Mozart Festival orchestras.  Jennifer Frautschi looks quite a bit younger.  She is the recipient of an Avery Fisher Grant (I wonder if this is now renamed David Geffen Grant), and performs on the 1722 “ex-Cadiz” Stradivarius.  Things look good if name recognition is the game.

The parallel that sprang up in my head once the concerto got underway was Sibelius. Not that the two sounded at all alike, but I thought the first movement of Barber sounded wistful and sad, and the second, frustration.  However, while Sibelius there was a clear “resolution” in the third movement, Barber’s third movement seemed to be an etude showcasing the soloist virtuoso technique.  The three movements are Allegro, Andante, and Presto in moto perpetuo.

Frautschi came across as a better musician than a technician.  She managed to convey (what I thought was) the mood of the first two movements quite well, although her intonation was off slightly on occasion.  However, the third movement sounded just like a good student playing a difficult exercise piece: passable, but not much beyond that.  The most puzzling aspect is how the Stradivarius sounded ordinary in the smallish Count Basie venue.

The program started with Tchaikovsky’s Marche Slave.  It is a collection of some very familiar tunes, which the Program describes as “a mish-mosh of Serbian tunes that sounded strikingly like Tchaikovsky’s original themes.”  On top of that was the Russian National Anthem.  Indeed it was a music that one could tap along.  I do wish a listing of the tunes had been provided though.

Perhaps this piece set my expectation for the rest of the program.  There was quite a bit of volume dynamics in the presentation, but somehow the music sounded flat for eight or so of the ten minutes.  The only time it got exciting for me was the end where everything was thrown into the coda, including the Russian National Anthem.

Tchaikovsky’s fourth symphony is in four movements: (1) Andante sostenuto; (2) Andantino in modo di canzona; (3) Scherzo: Pizzicato ostinato; and (4) Finale: Allegro con fuoco.  While I am quite familiar with it, somehow I had in mind the theme from his Pathetique in my head as the performance was to begin.  So, on the bright side, the piece sounded refreshing when it began.

Everything seemed to work well.  The orchestra was together, the dynamics were good, the different sections were quite impressive.  However, at the end we have only a competent orchestra playing some well-known passages by following the dynamics markings faithfully.  There is this missing element of what the music was trying to say.

In the past Zhang usually wore heels.  Today she wore flats, which made her small stature that much more noticeable.  She conducted with the same level of gusto I have come to associate with her.  The orchestra responded to her well, which is a good thing.  I hope as she develops a closer relationship with the organization some of the musicianship would come through more clearly.  She did engage the audience with a short talk at the beginning of the program, including the fact that Barber knew he wanted to be a composer at a very young age.

The event was newsworthy enough that I found a New York Times review on the concert.  The reviewer is generally positive, describe Zhang as “a name worth memorizing” and “a pint-size bundle of energy.”  She also said the orchestra had moments “that would be the envy of better-known ensembles on the other side of the state lines.”  I assume she is referring to both NY and Philadelphia?

New York Philharmonic – Bramwell Tovey, conductor; Joyce Yang, piano; Virginie Verrez, mezzo-soprano. April 5, 2016.

David Geffen Hall at Lincoln Center.  Orchestra 1 (Seat P105, $69.50).

Program

Ballet Music from Le Cid (1885) by Massenet (1842-1912).

Noches en los jardines de Espana (Nights in the Gardens of Spain), Symphonic Impressions for Piano and Orchestra (1908-16) by Falla (1876-1946).

El sombrero de tres picos (The Three-Cornered Hat), complete ballet (1916-19) by Falla.

These tickets were purchased as part of the CYO subscription, that was around September, 2015.  Turns out Anne had a class, so she couldn’t go.  So CS made use of the available ticket.

This was billed by the New York Philharmonic as a “Spanish Nights” program, although I would say the music was peppered with some French influence.

Evidently other than the violin solo Meditation from the opera Thais, Massenet also wrote lots of music (my attempt at humor.)  Indeed I have also seen Werther and Manon.  I consider these works French in nature.  Le Cid, on the other hand, is derived from Pierre Corneille’s 1637 recounting of a tale of conflict, love, and honor from Spanish history (quoting directly from the Playbill.)  As customary for operas in that period, a ballet was included, in this case the opera’s second act.  Each of the seven dances is an example of a different Spanish form, which the Playbill further claims “many listeners may recognize without being quite able to place them.”

Listed in the Playbill under this ballet are the following dances: Castillane, Andalouse, Aragonaise, Aubade, Catalane, Madrilene, and Navarraise.  Among areas of music that I don’t know much about, Spanish music ranks among the highest, so I wasn’t holding out any hope I would recognize any of the tunes.  Even more confusing was Tovey’s introduction, he said there would be five movements, with the last movement repeating the theme of the first.  All I could say is the music started off sounding more French than Spanish, although it changed as the movements progressed.  As to Massenet writing Spanish-sounding music, I do want to observe at that time he was living in Marseilles, which is relatively close to Spain.  I did catch the similarity between the beginning and end of the music, though.

Tovey also made some remarks about “Nights in the Gardens of Spain.”  He said all we needed to think of was someone waking up after the afternoon siesta, and imagine how he would then proceed to spend the rest of the evening.  The three movements are (1) En el Generalife (in the Generalife) (Allegretto tranquillo e misterioso); (2) Danza lejana (Distant Dance) (Allegro giusto); and (3) En los jardines de la Sierra de Cordoba (In the Gardens of the Sierra de Cordoba) (Vivo).  Manuel de Falla had never travelled to Granada where the Generalife Palace and Sierra de Cordoba gardens were located; evidently pictures and literary descriptions were enough of an inspiration for him.

Our decision to buy these tickets was no doubt influenced by Joyce Yang as the soloist.  Yang sprang onto the music scene several years ago (evidently as far back as 2005) after she won a silver medal at the van Cliburn competitions.  Even though she appears in New York quite frequently, this was the first time I got to see her perform.  While the piece is difficult enough, I can’t really say whether I was awe-struck by her as a pianist.  In trying to get a sense of the composition as a whole, I didn’t have the bandwidth to understand the piano as a voice separate from the orchestra.  The piece seemed difficult enough, and I could hear the piano distinctly most of the time; there were instances when the orchestra overwhelmed it, somewhat surprising as our seats were quite good.

Another observation I would make is there is quite a bit of French in this work.  Which is not surprising as de Falla spent a lot of time in Paris, associating closely with Dukas, Debussy, and Ravel.  This work was first imagined as four nocturnes for a piano, and over eight (!) years it evolved into what de Falla would call “symphonic impressions.”

If you say “Manuel de Falla” to Anne she would respond with “Three-Cornered Hat.”  This work, likely most well-known of de Falla’s, was based on a story making fun of the Corregidor (Magistrate) whose three-corned hat signified his status.  Tovey did explain a bit about the story, and how the bassoon represented the magistrate slinking from a rock.  (He said more, but I forget.)  The copyright holder of the story would not allow it to be turned into an opera, so it was scored for a pantomime.  Serge Diaghilev saw a performance of this play and asked de Falla to expand the work into a full ballet.  The premier was in London in 1919, with Pablo Picasso as the designer of sets and costumes, and other luminaries were involved as well.

The 38-minute (per Playbill) work consists of the following.  Introduction.  Part One – Afternoon, Dance of the Miller’s Wife (Fandango), The Corregidor, The Miller’s Wife, The Grapes.  Part Two – The Neighbors’ Dance (Seguidillas), The Miller’s Dance (Farruca), The Bodyguard – The Miller’s Wife – The Corregidor – Dance of the Corregidor, The Corregidor and the Miller’s Wife, The Miller, Final Dance (Jota).

All this should make for an interesting experience, if the ballet had been performed.  It would take a lot of imagination to picture the ballet and its props as one listens to the music; and I don’t have that good an imagination.  So I was left with trying to catch the bassoon tune, which I managed to do; that wasn’t enough for me to follow along the plot, though.  About the only other aspect I capture was the Seguidilla, a term I learned from the opera Carmen.

De Falla added a couple of voice passages to the ballet, which was to warn the villagers that the devil was about.  Verrez had a booming and pleasant voice, but the total singing time was perhaps three minutes.

I have seen Bramwell Tovey several times, when he conducted the New York Philharmonic during their summer series.  He usually gave a small introduction to the program he conducted, with a nice dose of humor.  This was the fifth (and last) concert of the series, so while the introduction was still informative, the humor was a bit dry (tired, not the “dry” as in British humor.)

The program probably would appeal to some folks (Anne, for example), but for me it seemed more like a lost opportunity.

The New YorkTimes review was somewhat mixed.  The program was discussed in reverse order: great praise for “The Three-Cornered Hat,” generally good for “Spanish Nights,” and quite critical for “Le Cid.”  I didn’t catch the miscues the reviewer was talking about, perhaps the coordination improved by the fifth concert.

I met up with CS for a light meal at Europan, and we took the train back to New Jersey together.  Anne had just returned from DC and was able to pick me up at the train station.

Metropolitan Opera – Donizetti’s Roberto Devereux. March 28, 2016.

Metropolitan Opera at Lincoln Center.  Orchestra (Seat T33, $25.)

Story.  Robert Devereux, the Earl of Essex, comes back to England, having failed to win the war with the Irish.  He is accused of treason and is condemned to death, but Elizabeth, who is in love with him, wants to pardon him.  Robert loves Sarah, who was forced to marry the Duke of Nottingham, a good friend of Robert.  When the two meet, Sarah gives Robert a blue scarf.  When Robert is arrested, the scarf is discovered, which makes Elizabeth suspicious enough to sign the death warrant.  While waiting for his execution, Robert asks Sarah to give Elizabeth a ring which will earn him a pardon.  Sarah is unable to do so since she is confined by her husband.  When Sarah manages to get to Elizabeth with the ring and the Queen is about to relent, Robert is executed.  Nottingham admits he wanted revenge, and Elizabeth laments that she only wants to be freed of her role as queen.

Conductor – Maurizio Benini; Sarah Duchess of Nottingham – Elina Garanca, Queen Elizabeth – Sondra Radvanovsky, Robert Devereux Earl of Essex – Matthew Polenzani, Duke of Nottingham – Mariusz Kwiecien.

The synopsis I provided above is basically a further synopsis of the one found in the Playbill.  Chung Shu read up a bit on Elizabeth’s real story, and thought the romance angle was a bit dubious.  In any case, what I got from watching the performance was this is indeed a very simple story, which I can summarize as: Elizabeth loves Robert and wants to spare his life after he returns from Ireland.  However, when she finds Robert with a purple scarf she orders his execution.  She eventually relents, but it is too late.  All the other incidents probably happened on stage, but they didn’t leave a mark on me at all.

So this is one of those operas that need great music to save it.  While there is some drama in the third act, the first two acts are quite flat dramatically.  Perhaps that is why this is the first time this opera is staged at the Met (what I saw was the second performance.)  Luckily, the music is great, and the orchestra and the singers all put in a great performance.

The great music started with the excellent performance of the overture, under the direction of Benini.  A review of my blog indicates I have seen him several times before, conducting Donizetti operas – perhaps an expert on this particular composer?  The orchestra kept up the great sound throughout, sometimes in support of the singers, often times on their own.

We last saw Polenzani and Kwiecien together in the Pearl Fishers, and enjoyed their singing.  Today they did an equally admirable job, although I would say Polenzani was particularly good.  I had a similar reaction to their Pearl Fisher performance, calling Polenzani’s performance “great” and Kwiecien’s “dependable.”

Garanca’s voice was simply heavenly, penetrating and smooth.  Of all the principal roles, I enjoyed her singing the most.  Since I didn’t know how the story unfolded at the beginning, I actually thought wow, this Elizabeth is really quite something.

And this Elizabeth is really quite something.  She has the volume and the expressiveness that fit the role very well.  Her tone is a bit on the harsh side, so it didn’t work very well for the tender moments; but when there is anger, jealousy, or hatred, it footed the bill very well.  And there were a lot of those moments.  Scene 3 of Act 3 is basically a mad scene for Elizabeth, and I really wish the earlier parts had a similar level of drama.  At some point she shed her wig and acted credulously as an old woman.

The Met made a big deal out of Radvanosky’s singing the roles of all three of Donizetti’s Tudor queens this season.  For various reasons I didn’t get to see the other two.  I do wonder if the level of difficulty is comparable to being Brunnhilde in Wagner’s Ring.

Given that this is a Met first, the production is naturally new.  That makes the staging a bit puzzling, it is basically the three walls, with two rows of chandeliers hanging from the ceiling.  By moving the center wall back and forth, the audience is supposed to surmise whether we are talking about the palace, the plaza, or, at the end of the opera, a grave.  The chandeliers also move up and down so as not to be caught by the moving wall.  On many occasions I couldn’t tell what the staging was supposed to represent.

And what is this peanut gallery on the second level?  Chung Shu told me it was to show royalty at that time didn’t have any privacy, their lives lived out for everyone to see.  Maybe, but it didn’t add to the story at all.  Similarly, the opera began with a display of Elizabeth’s tomb, which reappeared at the end of the opera.

The costumes were generally okay, with Elizabeth’s two “wings” a bit on the overdone side.  However, if you google Elizabeth’s images, many of them have these wings, so there is some historicity to the design.

Curtain Call.

I have seen the other two Donizetti Tudor queens: Netrebko as Anna Bolena, and DiDonato as Maria Stuarda.  I must say both were impressive performances, and both had more drama to them.

I resisted reading the New York Times review until just now.  As usual, I admire the wordsmithing of the reviewer, but take some issue with his observation that there may be some degree of homoerotic longing between Robert and the Duke.  Shades of Pearl Fisher?  I would say his “ranking” of the singers is the same as mine.  For instance, he described Radvanovsky’s voice as having a hard edge to it, and Garanca’s as sumptuous.  He is also scratching his head a bit about the staging, but correctly points out the hint of Tower of London in one of the scenes.

[Note added 4/8/2016.  Just wanted to note the overture had the British National Anthem "God save the Queen" woven into it.  A bit of anachronism, no doubt.]

I met up with CS to have a quick meal at Europan.  Since we had to take the 11:18 pm train, it was past midnight before I got home.

New Jersey Symphony – Christian Arming, conductor; Stephen Hough, piano. March 19, 2016.

State Theatre, New Brunswick, NJ.  Balcony (Seat A109, $37.)

Program – Romantic Masterworks

Siegfried Idyll (1870) by Wagner (1813-1881).

Piano Concerto in A Minor (1841-1845), Op. 54 by Schumann (1810-1856).

Symphony No. 2 in D Major (1877), Op. 73 by Brahms (1833-1897).

The title of the program probably applies to the works by Schumann and Brahms.  Not to take anything from Wagner, but most people think of his operas as his masterpieces, and rightly so.

So happens I heard this performed in November, 2013, performed by the Hong Kong Philharmonic.  The conductor was Lorin Maazel.  What I remember from that concert was this piece had nothing to do with Siegfried as in the Ring, but rather it was written by Wagner after the birth of his child.  The piece was performed in the foyer of the Cultural Centre, which didn’t work out that well because of the acoustics, and because only a small ensemble was used.

Today’s performance was done by a large orchestra, which the Program Notes claims was done during Wagner’s time, with him as the conductor on occasion.  The other claim made by the Annotator was some themes were taken from the opera Siegfried, the third act, as a matter of fact.  The Notes also says that this is the closes thing to a symphony that Wagner wrote.  I guess that why musicologists and music historians keep their jobs; and why I write a blog.

Of course I don’t remember much of what I heard in 2013, but I am sure that it didn’t sound at all like today’s performance.  The piece then was quiet and idyllic, today’s was more exciting to hear, but not always on the idyllic side.

I know enough about the works by Schumann and Brahms to have a sense of what the music sounds like, but not so familiar that I end up trying to compare what I heard to what I considered the “right” way to do the music.  It made for very enjoyable listening: I was (mentally) tapping along, but still surprised every now and then by where the story went.

It may be heretical to a serious music student, but overall impression of this Schumann concerto is it very much like a Liszt concerto (both No. 1 and 2) in how the piano works with and against the orchestra.  The demands on technique may not be as severe, but that is made up for by the musicality.  A virtuoso versus an artist, so to speak.  Not that this concerto was easy – our seats in the balcony were quite close to the stage – and Stephen Hough made that so.

Per the Program Notes, this piano started off as a Pantasie for piano and orchestra written in 1841.  Schumann then suffered a mental breakdown in 1844, and when he recovered, he added an Intermezzo and Finale to complete the concerto, which has movement markings Allegro affettuoso, Intermezzo: Andantino grazioso, and Allegro vivace.

We did hear the Brahms symphony as recently as October, 2015.  My blog entry said “this was a great concert.”  I then proceeded to lament how muddled some passages were.  Somewhat to my surprise, “muddled” didn’t cross my mind at all.  Sure, there were some passages that did sound as clean as they could be, perhaps I do grade according to expectations.  The movements are (i) Allegro non troppo; (ii) Adagio non troppo; (iii) Allegretto grazioso (Quasi andantino); and (iv) Allegro con spirit.

Arming looked young (born in 1971, in Vienna, per Wikipedia.)  His conducting style is traditional, but seemed to exaggerate sometimes, and was too passive at others.  Perhaps that is one reason why the music sounded disjoint at times.

Curtain call after the Schumann piano concerto.  Stephen Hough on the left, and Christian Arming behind the piano.

I used to remark that this orchestra seemed to work very well with Lacombe, but not that well with guest conductors.  My experience the last few concerts indicate that the situation has improved a lot.

There were many empty seats in the balcony, which was too bad.

New Brunswick is very close to our house, it was easy getting there and back on a Saturday evening.  We even managed to find off-street parking.

New Jersey Symphony – Perry So, conductor; Eric Lu, piano. March 12, 2016.

Count Basie Theatre, Red Bank.  Balcony (Seat E101, $37.60.)

Program: All-Mozart

Overture and Ballet Music from Idomeneo, K. 366 and 367 (1780-1781) by Mozart (1756-1791).

Piano Concerto No. 23 in A Major, K. 488 (1784-1786).

Symphony No. 41 in C Major, “Jupiter,” K. 551 (1788).

I vaguely recall the last all-Mozart program as one by the New York Philharmonic where the last three of Mozart’s symphonies were performed.  My recollection was too much Mozart isn’t necessarily a good thing.  A review of my blog entry reminded me that it was in 2006, with Maazel conducting.  Turns out there were other all-Mozart programs I have been to; interestingly none was at a Mostly Mozart Festival concert.

The interesting aspect for this concert is the conductor is a Hong Kong-born person, and the pianist is a Chinese-American born in Massachusetts.  I had heard the name Perry So before in conjunction with Hong Kong Philharmonic, although I never saw him conduct any of the HK Phil concerts I attended; today would be our first encounter with Eric Lu.

Idomeneo isn’t one of Mozart’s popular operas, I recall seeing that performed once at the Met, and haven’t seen that advertised anywhere else.  While pleasant to hear, I am not sure what story is being told by the music.  I don’t remember from the opera any ballet scenes, but I can assume they were put in routinely in operas from that period.  The Program Notes contain a brief synopsis of the opera, and a rather detailed analysis of the music, describe the ballet music as “a marvelous discover” for Mozart lovers.  By that measure, I am no Mozart lover.  The movements are Overture; Chaconne; Larghetto; La Chaconne, qui reprend, and “Pas seul.”

The piano concerto didn’t quite live up to its promise.  My usual standard for a good Mozart performance is “light and crisp.”  Lu met the “crisp” criterion, but his playing was quite heavy handed, and rather disjoint.  I did enjoy the third movement, though.  The three movements are Allegro, Adagio, and Allegro assai.  He played a encore (most likely one of Chopin’s etudes) that was quite enjoyable.

At intermission I read up on Eric Lu a bit.  He has done well in many Chopin competitions, including winning the 2015 National Chopin Competition and placing fourth at the 2015 Chopin Piano Competition in Warsaw.  Since he is now only 18, it puts things in perspective.

The Program Notes again had an interest-piquing write-up on the symphony.  Particular mention was made of the finale, which has a double fugue-like construction, a theme played backwards, and a coda where all five themes were woven together.  I had some luck with catching the fugue aspects, and could hear a few melodies going at the same time (but not five of them,) and missed the “backwards” portion completely.  Nonetheless, it was a delightful symphony, at over 30 minutes a long one for Mozart.  The movements are Allegro vivace, Andante cantabile, Menuetto: Allegretto, and Molto allegro.

Perry So is in his early thirties.  His conducting was on the precise side, but the result didn’t hang together as much as I would like.  Given there are some few Hong Kong-born conductors on the international stage, I wish him success.

The concert was reasonably well attended.  There were quite a few empty seats in the balcony, though.  It was straightforward to get to Red Bank.

New York Philharmonic – Esa-Pekka Salonen, conductor; Yuja Wang, piano; Valerie Hartmann-Claverie, ondes Martenot. March 11, 2016.

David Geffen Hall at Lincoln Center.  Orchestra Rear (Seat PP107, $32.50.)

Program

Turangalila-symphonie (1946-48, rev. 1990) by Messiaen (1908-92).

I skipped this concert when I did our CYO subscription for this season, even though Yuja Wang and Salonen were on the program, as it didn’t make it high enough in the list of concerts I wanted to see.  A couple of weeks ago we got an email advertising seats for $29, and since we would be staying in Jersey City this evening, we decided to go for it.

Nowadys New York Philharmonic nickels and dimes its customers.  Perhaps it is necessary due to financial considerations, but for the two tickets we also had to pay a $7 facility fee, and a $7.5 service fee for the privilege of printing at home (it would be $15 for box office pickup), so the total for the two tickets comes to $72.50.  In this instance it was worth it.  Our seats, third row from the last, had surprisingly good acoustics; they are directly below the first tier, where seats costs a lot more.  While I couldn’t really follow the music, I found it engaging for the entire 75 or so minutes (if not entire, at least most.)  Compared to other music written in the mid-twentieth century, it was an unexpected but pleasant experience.

The Playbill contains some interesting facts about Messiaen and the piece, which is worth repeating here.  Messiaen’s music has two major characteristics: meditations related to Roman Catholic theology, and inspirations from birdsong.  Other focal points include complicated rhythmic relations, and the other is carnal love as embodied in the tale of Tristan and Isolde.  Messiaen described Turangatila-symphonie as “a love song.  It is also a hymn to joy … a joy that is superhuman, overflowing, blinding, unlimited.” He also provided a simple description at the work’s Boston premiere, conducted by Leonard Bernstein: “The work is a song of love … it is unnecessary to provide further explanation.”  The Sanskrit words Taranga and Lila have the respective meaning of “tempo, pace of a swift horse” and “life-force, the act of creation, rhythm, and movement.”  Messiaen claims neither the modes nor the rhythms used are borrowed from Hindu folk music.

Before introducing the soloists, Salonen spent about ten minutes talking about the program.  Not having taken any notes, there may be errors in my recollection.  He first characterized the music as being “fresh” all the time, and cited other works of this nature: Eroica, Symphonie Fantastique, Rite of Spring, and Tristan and Isolde, saying that is every composer’s dream.  He also described how Messiaen considered every note to be important, citing as an example the time he spent at Messiaen’s apartment, after going through every note on a page, Messiaen would then turn to p. 2 (it was quite funny the way Salonen described it.)  Evidently Messiaen was in love with someone (perhaps Yvonne Loriod, who premiered this work,) but his Catholic background would make marriage impossible (the two eventually married, though.)  Finally, while the piece started with human love, it eventually turned to the planets and the cosmos.

Curtain Call after the performance.  Yuja Wang is the one in the green dress, everyone else wore black.  The Ondes Martenot can barely be made out to the right of the piano.

This was the work for a large orchestra.  In the front of the stage there was a xylophone (vibraphone), two celestes, a piano, and the ondes Martenot.  In the back I counted another seven or eight percussionists, also I couldn’t tell how the different instruments were placed.  The bass drum had a very prominent position: center, back, and high on a platform.   Everyone showed up, including the concertmaster Frank Huang.  The movements were quite well demarcated: (i) Introduction, (ii) Chant d’amour I, (iii) Turangalila I, (iv) Chant d’amour II, (v) Joie du sang des etoiles, (vi) Jardin du sommeil d’amour, (vii) Turangalila II, (viii) Developpement de l’amour, (ix) Turangalila III, and (x) Final.  Perhaps the only insightful thing I can say is that the last movement sounded most conventional, and felt a bit out of place in relation to the other movements.

The piano had a variety of roles throughout the piece.  Sometimes it clearly was the solo instrument, with the pianist pounding out virtuoso passages in a dialog with the orchestra, sometimes it faded into being part of the music.  All I could tell was Yuja Wang had quite a bit of work out throughout the 75 or so minutes.  She needed the music in front of her (who can blame her) but managed to turned the pages by herself.  Many passages were doubled up by the celestas.

To my surprise, this wasn’t my first encounter with the ondes Martenot, an electronic instrument invented in 1928 by Maurice Martenot.  The best way I can describe its sound is that of a songbird, or the wailing of a friendly ghost.  A search of the web indicates other sounds made by this instrument, but I couldn’t hear them during the performance, if they had been made at all.  The soloist was quite still for the entire performance.  In any case, the instrument wasn’t as prominently featured in the music as the piano.

The Ondes Martenot.

I was asked by CS whether this was a concert worth going.  I told him yes, not because I could get the music, but because it was an interesting experience, with a large orchestra, complex sounds, and exposure to new or rarely used instruments.  I did suggest not to have a seat in the front of the auditorium since it won’t provide a view of the full orchestra.  Further, not too many orchestras are equipped to handle a work that is as ambitious as this.  And the whole experience is captivating enough that I didn’t think 75 minutes of it was too much; Anne drew her line at 60 minutes, though.

The New YorkTimes reviewer attended the first performance.  Evidently Salonen had different things to say on that occasion, including brief descriptions of each of the movements.  While the reviewer had good things to say, it was a surprisingly short review, covering only limited parts of the piece.

We will be vacating our Jersey City apartment the next day.  This is the last event we could make use of the convenience of the apartment.  We stopped by Brookfield Mall for dinner before continuing onto Lincoln Center.