Metropolitan Opera – Rossini’s Guillaume Tell. November 2, 2016.

Metropolitan Opera at Lincoln Center. Balcony (Seat C109, $110.50).

Story.  This is a retelling of the well-known William Tell story with a romantic twist thrown in.  The Swiss are rebelling against their Austrian occupiers (Habsburgs).  Leuthold, a Swiss, kills one of the Austrians and is pursued by Gesler’s troops.  William Tell hides him by taking him across Lake Lucerne.  When Metcthal refuses to give up their whereabouts, Rodolphe has him arrested and orders the men to raze the village.  In the town of Altdorf, Gesler forces the Swiss to commemorate the 100-year occupation by paying homage to his hat raised on a pole and dancing till they collapse.  When Tell refuses to do so, Gesler threatens to kill both him and his son Jemmy unless Tell shoots an apple off Jemmy’s head, despite Tell kneeling down before him.  Tell successfully does that, and when asked why there is a second arrow, he says it is meant for Gesler if he misses the apple.  Gesler has him arrested. Jemmy is provided safe haven by Gesler’s sister Mathilde and subsequently reunited with his mother Hedwige.  A storm hits as Tell is being transported across Lake Lucerne, so his shackles are removed for him to steer the ship.  As the boat nears shore, he leaps off and is met by the rebels who are now properly armed.  Jemmy hands Tell his crossbow which he then uses to kill Gesler.  The Austrians are defeated and Altdorf is liberated.

The romantic twist involves Metcthal’s son Arnold and Gesler’s sister Mathilde.  Arnold first joins the Austrian, but decides to switch sides after he finds out about Metcthal’s death.  Mathilde decides to join the Austrians because of her brother’s cruelty towards the Swiss.  The two thus find themselves on the same side at the end of the opera.

Conductor – Fabio Luisi.  Guillaume Tell – Gerald Finley; Hedwige, his wife – Maria Zifchak; Jemmy, their son – Janai Brugger; Melcthal – Kwanghul Youn; Arnold – John Osborn; Amthilde – Marina Rebeka; Gesler – John Relyea.

This was part of the series we bought for this season, and I didn’t pay much attention to the opera until the day before.  All I knew were the famous overture (including the part used to introduce the Lone Ranger series) and the “fact” that William Tell shot the apple off his son’s head.  Turns out this was the last of Rossini’s operas, written when he was 37, and at over 4 ½ hours (with two intermissions) is his longest.  The opera was premiered in Paris, in French, which was also used in today’s performance.  It has not been very popular with the Met, tonight’s performance being the 36^th, and the last series was in 1931.

This is a new production.  The scenery was disappointingly simple.  There were a few rocks, some large, some small, that were moved on and off stage at different times.  There is a walkway that we could see only the bottom of from our balcony seats, I wasn’t sure what it was until it was lowered in the last Act (it was a ship).  To represent the town square there were a few skeletal buildings that Anne said represented chalets.  There was a lot of mention of a lake, represented by a blue background with wavy strokes painted on it.  Also, there were a few lighted columns that I don’t get.  And the famous scene where Tell shots the apple?  The best I can tell is in a flash the apple disappears from Jemmy’s head.  A production worthy of the New York City Opera, and NYCO may rightfully consider this an insult.  I usually don’t care much about scenery, but this was a bit too amateurish.

I have no idea how the Swiss dressed around the 14^th Century, but doubt very much everyone wore long skirts made of white linen (men and women).  And the Austrians all wore black.  Reminds me of a Star Wars episode where it was easy to tell the good guys from the bad.  True to the concept, Mathilde started with a dark dress but ended the opera in a white one.  Also, there was no effort in trying to make Jemmy look like a boy, although it became less of an issue as the opera progressed – William Tell could well be shooting an apple off her daughter’s head.

The Program Notes contains phrases like “visual spectacle,” “grandeur of its sets,” “historical accuracy,” “mountain scenery of Switzerland,” and “illusory effects which astonished all who saw them.”  If I had read this before the opera, my disappointment would have been profound.  As it is, I wonder if the writer ever saw this production, or if he was being sarcastic.

Operas composed during that period all have ballet scenes, both expected as part of the opera form and so the singers have a chance to rest their voices.  The one in Act III where the Swiss were forced to pay homage to Gesler stood out, for its grotesqueness.  That may be the actual intent, but 15 minutes (estimate) of it is too much.  The ballet dancers all danced well, and I am sure the choreographer could have designed a pleasant experience for the audience while getting the point across.  As it was, I am sure many in the audience were relieved when it was over.

The story was unnecessarily complicated by the many different characters.  Ruodi, Rodolphe, Walter Furst, and others all have substantial singing roles, but their presence – especially since they are dressed similarly – just made a plot that should be straightforward complex.  I did doze off a bit during the first Act.

The music did a lot to make this opera a worthwhile experience.  It started with the overture.  Yes, it is a familiar one that lends itself readily to foot-stomping; but few could do it as well as tonight’s orchestra.  As with familiar pieces, I had a preconception how it should be performed, and appreciated how Luisi did it.  The orchestra had “solo” passages every now and then, and each time reinforced how excellent it was.

The singing was uniformly great, and that would include the “secondary” characters I mentioned above.  Particularly noteworthy was that of Rebeka, as Mathilde she was splendid, making the whole thing seem effortless.  Youn as Metcthal also did well, but the character was killed early on so he only had limited lines.  Relyea as Gesler was solid.  The chorus got a great workout in this opera, and they came through splendidly – despite my missing this 12-part chorus.

I do question if the opera needs to be this long.  Certainly many sections can be tightened – the ballet, the three cantons showing up, for example.  On the cantons, it was supposed to be a masterful passage, each canton would have four parts, resulting in a twelve-part chorus at the end.  (Can’t all be different notes, or we have every note in the chromatic scale.)  I didn’t catch that, not having read the Program beforehand.

Curtain Call.

The New YorkTimes review also praised the music, the singers, and the chorus, but wasn’t so keen on the sets or the costumes.  If one wants to learn all the terms used in vocal music, there is a ton in the review.  The review also contains a video clip of Pierre Audi, in charge of production.  He gave some insight into the production design; for instance, the vertical columns depicted trees in a forest.

We were seated in the balcony, and it and family circle were reasonably full, which was a good thing.

The opera started at 6:30 pm, so we left a little after 4 pm.  On the way back there were some slight traffic jams, even though it was around midnight.

London Symphony Orchestra – Gianandrea Noseda, conductor; Yuja Wang, piano. October 29, 2016.

Prudential Hall at NJPAC, Newark, NJ.  Tier 2 (Seat D110, $28.50).

Program

Overture to Die Meistersinger (1862) by Wagner (1813-1883).

Piano Concerto in G Major (1929-1931) by Ravel (1875-1937).

Symphony No. 5 in D minor, Op. 47 (1937) by Shostakovich (1906-1975).

This was our third concert in three days, although the tickets were bought at different times, and each of them have their special attraction: Xian Zhang debuting as NJSO’s music director, Frank Huang performing Bruch’s violin concerto, and – for tonight – the London Symphony and Yuja Wang.

The London Symphony is based at the Barbican Center, with Simon Rattle as its music director (designate), and Noseda one of its two principal conductors.  The largest ensemble was used in the Shostakovich Symphony, and I counted 92 musicians, plus the conductor.  Each year they perform 70 concerts in London, and another 70 worldwide; I guess they must have transportation logistics down pat.

We saw Die Meistersinger at the Met about two years ago, and am somewhat familiar with the story.  Per the Program Notes, Wagner composed the overture before he did the opera, and included the “Prize Song” in it.  The tunes sounded vaguely familiar, although honestly I wouldn’t have placed it had it not been for the Notes.  Interestingly, at the beginning the orchestra sounded in a disjoint way, similar to what we heard a couple of days ago from the New Jersey Symphony.  However, their sound quickly improved and we enjoyed the piece.  The orchestra is large.  I counted 92 musicians plus the conductor performing the Shostakovich piece.

I had heard the Ravel Concerto in G performed quite a few times before, and each time came away somewhat lost.  The piece certainly was a showcase for the soloist (Ravel couldn’t do it himself), and I would gleam this or that from the performance.  I must say this time I got the most out of it, that it was very jazzy and Gershwin-like came across clearly (particularly the first movement.)  Perhaps it was the performer: Wang certainly made the music very clear, and she could simply make this concerto sing in a way I hadn’t heard before.  Or because it was my finally getting it (or rather more of it) after many attempts.  Another possible reason is how well the orchestra worked with the soloist.  To all that I would add something I did: I looked through the score (thanks to YouTube postings) before the concert, and could make some sense of how the piece is structured.

 Yuja Wang after performing the Ravel Concerto.  Noseda sat in the back as she played her three encores.

Actually I realized a few more things from going through the music beforehand.  One was the paucity of notes for the piano.  Looked at from a distance, the score didn’t appear particularly difficult.  It is only when one looked at the details that one discovers the difficulties with the music.  Second was the rhythm was particularly challenging, at least for someone without a strong jazz background.  Third was the interplay between the piano and orchestra is also difficult to pull off.  These points made my appreciation of the performance that much more.

The Program Notes describes the second movement (Adagio assai) as the heart of the concerto.  I would like to think a lot would be missing if one simply listened to the second movement, as pleasant as it may be.  The first (Allegramente) and third (Presto) movements are what make this piece uniquely Ravel.

Perhaps to make up for the relatively short concerto (about 22 minutes), Wang played three encores in succession.  They were a piece based on various melodies from Carmen, Chopin’s Waltz (op. 64, no. 2), and a modified version of Mozart’s Rondo alla Turca (K. 311).  With the possible exception of Chopin, these were pieces to show off the technical skills of a pianist.  But Wang did much better than that: her musicality came through in the Waltz, and the way she could carry on the “counterpoints” with her two hands was just amazing. 

Shostakovich’s Fifth Symphony was written during the height of the Soviet Union’s purge of the cultural scene to make sure every piece of work glorified the revolution.  The works he had completed recently were condemned, so this was also a work to rehabilitate himself.  I don’t know Shostakovich’s music well enough to analyze how he made the changes, but agree with the Program Notes – whose ideas I paraphrased above – that “the language is simplified, … The level of dissonance is lower and the music is contained within a clear formal plan.”  I again had the chance to look at the score (only the first two movements) and was surprised at the simplicity of it all.  The actual sound, however, was a lot more complex – that is what having the entire orchestra play the same note will sometimes get you.

The London Symphony is a competent orchestra, although it didn’t sound as crisp as I expected it to.  We have seen Noseda a few times, mostly conducting operas.  He is older than I remember, but as energetic as ever.

The London Symphony Orchestra.  I missed the double basses on the right side of the stage.

It was certainly a great performance.  Incidentally, the tickets were on sale for $25 each (plus a processing fee) which was really a great bargain.  The same program was repeated in Lincoln Center, but we are glad we caught it in Newark.

New York Philharmonic – Pablo Heras-Casado, conductor; Frank Huang, violin. October 28, 2016.

David Geffen Hall at Lincoln Center.  Orchestra 1 (Seat T106, $61.50).

Program

Tancszvit (Dance Suites), BB 86a (1923) by Bartok (1881-1945).

Violin Concerto No. 1 in G minor, Op. 26 (1864-67) by Bruch (1838-1920).

Symphony No. 7 in D minor, Op. 70 (1884-86) by Dvorak (1841-1904).

The headline of the concert was the Dvorak Symphony, but I suspect most people were more interested in hearing the (relatively) new concertmaster Frank Huang play the Bruch violin concerto, so let’s talk about that first.

Most violin students are very familiar with Bruch, with his violin concerto something the students learn at some point, or want to learn.  While not ostensibly so, there are enough challenging elements (glissandos, double stops, spiccatos, ricochet arpeggios, and the like) to make this a virtuoso piece.  There are also many melodies that are easy to remember.

Huang dispatched the piece with ease, looking quite effortless in the process.  As I remarked in my last blog about the New York Philharmonic, performances like this will have people asking “Glenn who?” very soon.  I do appreciate that he chose a piece like this rather than one by Szymanowski (as Dicterow did.)  At the risk of sounding snobbish, I do wonder if he could get his hands on a better violin.  Not that his didn’t sound good, but it lacked the brilliance of a Stradivarius or the fullness of a Guarnerius.

Pablo Heras-Casado applauding Frank Huang at conclusion of Bruch's violin concerto.

The three movements of the concerto are (i) Prelude: Allegro moderato; (ii) Adagio; and (iii) Finale: Allegro energico.  It turns out Bruch is mostly known just for this concerto, and he was among many composers that were competent but mostly forgotten because of A-list composers like Brahms.  There is a great deal of similarity between the opening of the third movement and that of Brahms’ violin concerto.  And the Program Notes points out Bruch’s predates Brahms’s by a good ten years.  Once I recalled Brahms’s opening, I couldn’t get it out of my head.  Another case of listening to one piece of music, and leaving humming the theme of another.

The concert began with the Dance Suite by Bartok, who together with Zoltan Kodaly were among the first ethnomusicologists.  The short (17 minutes per Program Notes) piece consists of six movements, played mostly without pause: Moderato, Allegro molto, Allegro vivace, Molto tranquillo, Comodo, and Finale: Allegro.  The Program Notes contains enough description of the “ethnicity” of each of the movements, and with the tempo markings, the music was easy enough to follow along.  I didn’t quite get why the fifth is described as “so primitive that one can only speak of a primitive peasant character here, and any classification according to nationality must be abandoned.”

There are two prior entries on Dvorak’s Seventh Symphony in this blog, both by the New York Philharmonic, conducted by Gilbert and Maazel.  And again I thought I was listening to it for the first time.  Even more embarrassing is I had more insight into the piece the last two times I heard it.

To those of us who don’t get Dvorak’s Seventh, the Program Notes has a quote from Donald Francis Tovey, which I paraphrase as follows.  Everyone should appreciate the greatness of this symphony.  There are three reasons people don’t.  First is this symphony is powerfully tragic, second is a wannabe may quarrel with Dvorak on how music should be written, and third is people often associate Dvorak with his popular works and don’t bother with the more difficult ones.  I don’t think the symphony is tragic, and critiquing the piece never even crossed my mind.  So it has to be I am too lazy.

In any case, I must say the New York Phil sounded better than the New Jersey Symphony.  There is a unity to the sections that is lacking in NJSO, and the brass section certainly sounded much more confident.  Some of the fast runs still came across a bit muddled, though.

We have seen Heras-Casado before, and the orchestra responded well to him in the Bruch and Dvorak pieces.  With Bartok he was acting as a time-keeper most of the time.  He is principal conductor of the Orchestra of St. Luke’s, which I didn’t know was in New York!

The New York Times reviewer probably ran out of adjectives to describe how well Frank Huang played, declaring “the night, though, belonged to Mr. Huang.”  Neither he nor I see “Dvorak’s Seventh” as the headline of the concert.  There was quite a bit of coughing in between movements, I was half-expecting to see him characterizing the audience as “sickly.”  (His colleague did call the NJSO audience old and afraid of the dark!  See my previous post.)

For an 11 am concert we usually would take the train into town.  We decided to drive in today, traffic reports heard along the way were discouraging, but we made it to our usual parking garage in reasonable time.  We ate lunch bought at the food truck before we returned home.

New Jersey Symphony Orchestra – Xian Zhang, conductor; Simon Trpceski, piano. October 27, 2016.

Prudential Hall at NJPAC, Newark, NJ.  Tier 1 (Seat B11, $52).

Program – all Tchaikovsky (1840-1893).

Polonaise from Eugene Onegin, Op. 24 (1878).

Piano Concerto No. 1 in B-flat Minor Op. 23 (1875).

Symphony No. 5 in E Minor, Op. 64 (1888).

This was Zhang’s debut as the music director of the organization, and the all-Tchaikovsky program, while safe and traditional, was heavy weight.  It could be impressive if the pieces were performed brilliantly, but there were also quite a few musical and technical traps that could trip up the artists.

The program started with a rather familiar tune from Eugene Onegin.  Although I had seen the opera and the ballet (using music from the opera), I didn’t recall where the tune came from.  The Program Notes says it takes place during an elegant ball in the home of a wealthy Russian noble.  In any event, the short piece got the concert off to a great start.  The elegance certainly came through, this is a fine orchestra.

Music lovers are familiar with Tchaikovsky’s piano concerto.  The program notes reminded me that it was rejected by several Russian pianists as unplayable, and was thus premiered in the US (Boston.)  The three movements are Allegro non troppo e molto maestoso, Andantino semplice, and Allegro con fuoco.  Our seats in Tier 1 gave us an excellent view of the virtuosity required of the pianist, and the Macedonian pianist Trpceski came through brilliantly.  Nothing fazed him, not double octaves in both hands, not the fast passages, and he made the piano sing.  Mixed in my admiration of his technical skills was admiration of his musicality.

Simon Trpceski and Xian Zhang at conclusion of Tchaikovsky's Piano Concerto No. 1.

Looking back over my blog, I had seen it only once live over the last ten-plus years, performed by Bronfman with the New York Philharmonic, in October, 2013.  While I don’t remember what the performance was like, I have no reason to think today’s performance was in any way not as good as that one.

Tchaikovsky’s Fifth is often called “fate” for the theme that started the 50-minute long symphony, and used numerous times in all the movements.  This is a difficult piece, and the orchestra was up to the task.  It was an overall exhilarating experience.  And one where I clearly heard a last ray of hope (“fate” played in “almost” major mode) which was quickly dashed.  As an encore, the coda of the last movement was repeated.

The rendition was not without its obvious flaws, though.  The melody that starts the slow movement is always a challenge for the principal horn.  It is a very familiar tune, and every listener expects perfection, which must put a lot of pressure on the artist.  He got all the notes right, the phrasing smooth, but I thought the overall effect was a bit off, and wished that he had given it a stronger punch.  Anne’s view was during some passages the sections were playing independently and didn’t blend together.  And we both agreed that we had heard better with the New York Philharmonic.

I was hoping to be able to say Zhang would make one forget about Lacombe, but I can’t for now.  It may be too much to ask for from a debut performance anyway.  We have tickets to several additional NJSO concerts, and I am hopeful.

Zhang was full of energy as always.  Today she even wore flat-bottom shoes.  Nonetheless, it was only when she stepped off the podium that one realized how small she is.  The orchestra seemed to respond to her well.

The New York Times review was posted a few hours ago.  After characterizing the audience as consisting of retired, old, and afraid of the dark, he described the program as “safe” and wondered where Zhang would take the orchestra.  To that last point I would say for the next several years leave the adventure to the New York Philharmonic, instead work on realizing the potential of the orchestra to be a top-notch one. He did have good things to say about how the pieces were performed.

Today’s concert began at 1:30 pm, our drive to and back from NJPAC was straightforward.  I was a bit disappointed that there were quite a few empty seats in the auditorium, perhaps the rainy day had something to do with it.

Metropolitan Opera – Rossini’s L’Italiana in Algeri. October 12, 2016.

Metropolitan Opera at Lincoln Center.  Balcony (Seat C107, $92.50).

Story.  The Sultan Mustafa tires of his wife and wants to get rid of her.  He asks Lindoro, someone he captured earlier, to marry her and take her away.  A shipwreck brings ashore Isabella, who is Lindoro’s lover.  Mustafa is taken with Isabella and is willing to be initiated as a Pappataci, which requires him to eat, drink, and keep silent regardless of what is happening.  While that is happening, Lindoro and Isabella sail away, and Mustafa takes Elvira back.

Conductor – James Levine.  Lindoro – Rene Barbera, Isabella – Marianna Pizzolato, Mustafa – Ildar Abdrazakov, Haly – Dwayne Croft, Taddeo – Nicola Alaimo, Elvira -Angela Mannino, Zulma – Rihab Chaieb.

This would be our first encounter with this opera.  The Met last staged this in 2004, and tonight would be the opera’s 74^th appearance on the Met stage.

We got into the hall early enough to see Levine wheeled into the conductor’s position.  This season he will be conducting Nabucco and Idomeneo also.  Not the marathon pieces like Tristan or Isolde, but still a rather demanding schedule.

The last opera we saw was Simon Boccanegra, also conducted by Levine.  Levine was equally energetic with the overture, if not more.  The overture is easy to like, with many catchy melodies. I am sure it took a lot of restraint for the audience not to hum along – I know I had to try hard.  Levine maintained this level of intensity throughout.  While this opera is “only” three hours long (with a 30 minute intermission), it is still two acts at about 75 minutes each.  The days of Levine conducting the Ring may be over, but I certainly will not hesitate seeing him perform Mozart, Rossini, or Verdi.

I don’t care very much for the plot, but it serves as a great canvass for beautiful music, even though the story line is a bit contrived.  One exception I take – despite the Program Note giving it high mark – is the last number in Act I where the principals were just mouthing syllables.  That was supposed to emphasize the confusion, but I didn’t think it was necessary, and am quite sure there are other means to do so.  The orchestra performed crisply throughout, and as needed served as a great backdrop for the action on stage.

The main characters are Lindoro (tenor) and Mustafa (bass-bartone) who both put in excellent performances.  We have heard Abdrazakov sing several different roles before (Prince Igor, for example), and he was always good.  His singing today was commendable, although he was a bit weak with the lower notes.

This was our first encounter with Pizzolato.  She started a bit unsteady but improved greatly as the show progressed.

My expectations with comedies are usually modest in the acting department when it comes to comedies, so I wasn’t disappointed at how wooden the stage play was.  It did take some suspension of belief to envision Barbera and Pizzaloto as these young and attractive lovers.  Now there were some comedic and unsuspected moments.  Lindoro trying to throw flowers into a second story and having them stuck on the window sill is one, the use of a small canon to wreck the boat Isabella is on is another (and it was a loud boom.)

Both Elvira and Zulma have minor roles.  The two singers looked so much alike that I often got them confused.  The singer programmed initially as Elvira was Ying Fang.  Even though the role is minor, I am sure it was a big deal to be on the Met stage.

There were a few songs sung by the chorus – as far as I can tell, only the men sang.  Given our seats in the balcony, we could clearly see the hands of another conductor “hiding” in the prompter’s box.  What was surprising is that his (her?) hands were seen even during the singing by the ensemble of 4.  I am quite sure someone with basic musical skills know when to come in with the right pitch for most of these songs.

All said and done, we walked away satisfied with the performance.

Curtain Call.  From Left: Taddeo, Zulma, Lindoro, Isabella, Mustafa, Elvira, and Haly.

Attendance was low.  The Met seems to have trouble selling tickets for these more standard operas; Tristan and Isolde on the other hand, seems to do relatively well.

The New York Times reviewer was generally positive, and she actually found the story hilarious. Per her remark, the staging was from 1973.  It was surprising that some of the scenes (e.g., men mock-whipping women) are still acceptable today.

We got to the city early enough to have dinner at Dan, a Japanese restaurant, and coffee at Europan before the opera.  The drive home was straight forward also.

New Jersey Symphony Orchestra – Gemma New, conductor; Stewart Goodyear, piano. October 8, 2016

Count Basie Theatre, Red Bank.  Balcony Center (Seat E108, $38).

Program

Antearoa Overture (1940) by Lilburn (1915-2001).

Piano Concerto in A Minor, Op. 16 (1868-69, rev. through 1907) by Grieg (1843-1907).

Symphony No. 2 in D Major, Op. 43 (1902) by Sibelius (1865-1957).

The Program Notes describes this as “a program featuring three faces of nationalism.”  The three composers hailed respectively from New Zealand, Norway, and Finland.  From the “One Minute Notes”: Douglas Lilburn’s piece is a musical portrait of the island nation’s breathtaking coastline; Grieg’s ravishing piece is rich with Norwegian melodies and rhythms; and Sibelius’s symphony pulsates with the warmth of the brief sub-arctic summer.

The word coastline evokes in me images of Mendelssohn’s Scottish pieces or Debussy’s La Mer (I know it means “sea”).  With the Maori word for New Zealand in its title, one could also expect some folk native tunes in the piece.  What I heard was a lot of Vaughan Williams’s influence – Lilburn studied in London with him, after all.  And if the piece describes the coastline, it would appear it was on a very calm day with waves gently lapping against a beach rather than a rugged coastline during a stormy night.  Nonetheless, the short piece was performed with a clarity that would rival many better known orchestras.

Grieg premiered his own piano concerto in 1869, when he was 25.  He continued to tinker with the orchestration throughout his life, the 1906-07 version was heard tonight.  The movements are: Allegro molto moderato, Adagio, and Allegro moderato molto e marcato.  This concerto, together with Liszt’s first, were among the few I really liked when I was very young (teens to early twenties.)  Melodies, virtuosity, and a story combined to make these concertos exciting to listen to.  Decades later, I still look forward to listening to them.

Goodyear looked very young (he was a classmate of our friend’s daughter, so in his 30s), and he certainly put in an exhilarating virtuoso performance.  And the melodies sounded as pleasant as ever.  However, I didn’t get the story he was trying to tell.  It was more on the order of “let’s get through these dull intervening passages to get to the next highlight.”  Nonetheless, the melodies and virtuosity made this an overall exciting performance.

In the writeup on an earlier performance of Sibelius’s Second Symphony, I marveled at how complicated the tempo markings were.  The NJSO annotator made the four movements simple: Allegretto; Andante ma rubato; Vivacissimo; and Finale: Allegro moderato.  A bit over-simplified, I think, as there were significant tempo changes within the individual movements.

As with the Grieg piece, this symphony contains lots of difficult passages and pleasant folk-sounding melodies.  One of the most attractive themes appears towards the end where the full melody was teased out after many attempts.  The orchestra tackled the technical aspects well.  However, I am similarly disappointed in that in between the high points it was wandering aimlessly.  What dismayed me the most was the attempts at the final melody were all disjoint: they were played without anticipating what was to come.

Curtain Call after the Grieg Piano Concerto.

When I first started going to NJSO performances regularly I remarked that this was a Jekyll-and-Hyde orchestra, doing well under Lacombe but not so well with other conductors.  I just realized that I hadn’t been wondering about that for a while, and that speaks to the great improvements they have made.  I am not quite back to that view yet, but worry a bit if this will become the norm again.

Several friends took advantage of the sale (ticket prices could be as low as $20), but the balcony was not even 20% filled.  One would think there are more classical music listeners in this part of New Jersey.

Gemma New had been the associate conductor of NJSO for quite a few years.  I assume her departure from the organization is to make room for Zhang to pick an assistant.  I think the same thing happened to Zhang when Maazel left the New York Philharmonic.

We had dinner at church so we could listen to some of the reports on short-term missions.  Concerts in Red Bank and New Brunswick are very convenient for us.

New York Philharmonic – Alan Gilbert, conductor; Christopher Martin, trumpet; Lang Lang, piano. October 7, 2016.

Program

Mysteries of the Macabre, for Trumpet and Orchestra (1974-77/1992) by Ligeti (1923-2006).

Piano Concerto No. 4 in G major, Op. 58 (1806) by Beethoven (1770-1827).

Music for Strings, Percussion, and Celesta, BB 114 (1936) by Bartok (1881-1945).

Le Grand Macabre was an opera written by Gyorgy Ligeti, based on a play by Michel de Ghelderode - which was in turn inspired by the paintings of the 16^th century painter Pieter Breughel and his forebear Hieronymus Bosch.  The absurdist approach endeavors to answer the questions of “what will happen if our world ends soon” with “things would pretty much stay the same.”  While preparing for a concert performance, the coloratura soprano singing the role of Police Chief fell ill and couldn’t perform.  Since there was no understudy, the conductor Howarth – also a trumpet player – decided to have the trumpet as a fill-in.  It worked, and eventually three principal arias were arranged by Howarth into a piece for the trumpet and piano, which was further arranged into what we heard today.

The concert began with Gilbert coming out by himself, seemingly looking for the trumpeter.  At first I thought he was caught up in traffic, which was bad today.  Eventually I realized this was all part of the comedy of the piece.  And it was a comedic piece, as instruments there were crumbling newsprint, whistle, and other non-traditional percussion instruments. (Some of the other non-conventional instruments listed: police whistle, slide whistle, signal pipe, guero, and sandpaper.) Spoken words and shouts by the conductor, soloist, and orchestra members were thrown in for good measure.  There were only three violins as far as we could tell.

Martin is the new trumpet section principal in the orchestra, and he did a remarkable job with the music.  Overall, however, as gallows humor the piece sounded more humor than gallows.

Christopher Martin is the new Principal Horn of the Orchestra.

Music for Strings, Percussion, and Celesta was commissioned by the billionaire philanthropist Paul Sacher, who also conducted its premiere by the Basel Chamber Orchestra.  Per the Playbill, the piece is a good example of the precision of Bartok’s music, and illustrates it with the principal line used in the fugue of the first movement.  Fair enough: I was able to follow how the music was developed using that particular “melody.”  Unfortunately, there were no corresponding cheat sheets for the other movements, and I was reduced to simply listening to the music, which was quite interesting.  I do wish the annotator had spent more print on the music itself.

The 31-minute duration (per Playbill) piece consists of four movements: Andante tranquillo, Allegro, Adagio, and Allegro molto.  There were two string sections, each with first and second violins, violas, cellos, and basses.  The composer also had a precise plan for how the orchestra members were to be seated.  However, Gilbert seemed to have taken some liberty with those instructions.

These two pieces are heavy duty enough that they could form the backbone of a concert program.  However, the headline for the evening was Lang Lang playing Beethoven, and is undoubtedly the reason why the concert was sold out.

Lang Lang was worth his top billing.  Beethoven’s concertos are warhorses of the concert repertoire, and the fourth is no exception.  Indeed, a search of my blog returned numerous performances, including ones by Bronfman, Watts, Ax, and Ohlsson. The adjectives I would use to describe these performances include smooth, exciting, and compelling.  Lang’s performance was all that, but I would add the word “fresh.”  I don’t necessarily think everything he did was a better choice, but it was an excellent and immensely enjoyable experience to sit through this rendition.  Lang played Beethoven’s cadenzas, and evidently there are two versions for the first one, and the longer version was used tonight.

Curtain Call after Performance of Beethoven's Fourth Piano Concerto.

It was somewhat of a surprise to see Lang performing a piece that is not as virtuoso as what he typically did in the past.  Later this season Trifonov will be playing Mozart.  Perhaps they are out to prove they are more than just great technicians, but great musicians as well?

Here is a October 10 review in the New York Times.  Despite the minor digs at the various pieces, the reviewer was generally positive, describing Martin, Lang, and Gilbert using terms such as "impeccable musicians," "ravishing," and "excellent."

Today was a Friday, and we couldn’t make up our mind whether we should drive in or take the train.  Our decision resulted in one of the longest drives (over 2 hours).  Even though we left at around 5:15 pm, we only had time to buy a sandwich at the Café.  The good thing was we didn’t have to rush to the Penn Station afterwards, instead we bought street food and ate it at Richard Tucker Square.

New York Philharmonic – Alan Gilbert, conductor; Magdalena Kozena, mezzo-soprano. October 1, 2016.

David Geffen Hall at Lincoln Center.  Orchestra (Seat T105, $82.50).

Program

Les Nuits d’ete (The Summer Nights), Op. 7 (1840-41; orch. 1843, 1855, 1856) by Berlioz (1803-69).

Scheherazade, Symphonic Suite, Op. 35 (1888) by Rimsky-Korsakov (1844-1908).

When one thinks of “summer nights,” various images would come to mind.  They can range from the singing of nightingales, or a bright evening sky, or perhaps a severe thunderstorm.  It took someone like Berlioz to make this about frailty, death, cemetery, and lament.  I didn’t get to read the lyrics until the program was underway, and was quite unprepared for how dark the lyrics were after the first song (Villanelle).  The other songs in this collection are Le Spectre de la rose (The Specter of the Rose); Sur les lagunes: Lamento (On the Lagoons: Lament); Absence; Au cimetiere: Clair de lune (In the Cemetery: Moonlight); and L’ile inconnue (The Unknown Island.)

After reconciling with the fact that this was going to be a dark composition – which happened around the third song – I began to appreciate the music.  The reduced-size orchestra provided a great companion to the soloist.  While I do not know French, the projected surtitles helped my appreciation of the mood tremendously.

Kozena had a strong voice.  Every now and then it sounded a bit on the coarse side, but that just added to the grittiness of the prose.  I enjoyed her singing.

The composition was originally written for voice and piano, and song-by-song orchestrated by Berlioz, starting with Absence.  He modified the songs in other ways as well, including the transposition of two of them: “Le Spectre de la rose” by a minor third, and “Sur les lagunes” by a whole step.

“Absence” was first introduced to the New York Philharmonic by Leopold Damrosch in 1877, together with other works heard in New York for the first time.  The concert wasn’t a box office success, and Damrosch was not invited back.  Perhaps out of spite, Damrosch founded the New York Symphony in in 1878.  After 50 years, the New York Symphony, under the direction of Leopold’s son Walter, would merge with the New York Philharmonic.  Walter was also instrumental in convincing Andrew Carnegie to build Carnegie Hall.

While Scheherazade is probably known to most people, and some of the tunes in it are easily hummable, it is not programmed that frequently in live concerts.  Since I started my blog, this was only my second encounter with the piece.  The four movements are (i) Largo e maestosos – Allegro non troppo; (ii) Lento – Andantino; (iii) Andantino quasi allegretto; and (iv) Allegro molto.  Before it became unfashionable to do so, they also had descriptive titles: (i) The Sea and Sinbad’s Ship; (ii) The Story of the Kalander Prince; (iii) The Young Prince and Princess; and (iv) Festival at Baghdad, the Sea.

It was an enjoyable performance, the mood swung from serene to tempestuous, and the orchestra gave the music its all.  The Program Notes says Rimsky-Korsakov thought it would be sufficient that the listener “carries away the impression that it is beyond doubt an Oriental narrative of some numerous and fairy-tale wonders …”  That was a relatively low bar.

The soloist violin got quite a bit of workout as the protagonist, and some of the passages were quite challenging.  There were other solo passages from various members of the orchestra also.  Interestingly, only Frank Huang got the billing in the Program.

The audience applauded enthusiastically afterwards, which the orchestra and Gilbert deserved.

Curtain Call after Scheherazade.

A few observations.  First is that Gilbert went back to his baton, which looked more natural. The other was if Huang continues to perform the way he did, people would soon forget about Dicterow.  Lastly, the amount of coughing between movements was close to unbearable.  Perhaps free cough drops should be more readily available at the doors?

We stopped by Jersey City before driving into New York.  Dinner was at Columbus Empire Szechuan which we hadn’t been to for a while.

Marina Young Piano Recital. September 27, 2016.

Community Room, Middletown Township Library, NJ.

Program (see attached)

Mrs. Young was the piano teacher for our children when they were in high school. Every few years she would do a recital.  Anne told me last time she heard her was a joint recital with her husband, a violinist.

Her daughter told the gather audience that it had been over six years since the last concert, and tonight’s concert was dedicated to the memory of her father, who passed away five years ago.

I was able to get a lot of the sheet music on my iPhone as the concert progressed, and being able to follow along added a lot to my enjoyment.

The program was a combination of relatively easy (e.g., Schubert’s Waltzes) and rather difficult (Chopin’s Ballade) pieces.

Mrs. Young initially skipped over the Rachmaninoff Barcarolle, saying she wasn't quite ready to it.  She did perform it after the audience let out a groan.

There were quite a few people in attendance: students, their parents, and many fellow piano teachers.

Reminiscing about her two students from the 90s and early 2000s.

New Jersey Symphony Orchestra – Teddy Abrams, conductor; Sarah Chang, violin. September 24, 2016.

State Theatre, New Brunswick.  Front Orchestra (Seat L107, $43).

Program

On the Town: Three Dance Episodes (1944) by Bernstein (1918-1990).

The Four Seasons of Buenos Aires (1965-70, arr. 1992) by Piazzolla (1921-1992).

Tzigane (1924) by Ravel (1875-1937).

Rodeo: Four Dance Episodes (1942) by Copland (1900-1990).

After purchasing the NJSO Red Bank series, I never gave the rest of their season any thought.  Earlier this week I got a mailing advertising a sale for their opening weekend concerts.  $40 (plus $3 handling) got us a ticket front and center.

The program consisted of works that all drew heavily on the “common folk.”  On the Town originated as the ballet Fancy Free describing three sailors’ shore leave in New York. It was eventually turned into the Broadway show On the Town.  The three vignettes performed tonight had the self-explanatory titles of The Great Lover, Lonely Town: Pas de Deux and Times Square, 1944.  The other American composition that bookended the concert was originally a ballet describing the love interests of a cowgirl.  The ballet consists of five sections: Buckaroo Holiday, Ranch House Party, Corral Nocturne, Saturday Night Waltz, and Hoe-Down.  The orchestral suite omits Ranch House Party.  While the two compositions were written within two years of each other, they showed rather different characteristics.  Simplistically, Bernstein’s was jazzy and Copland’s was more “square dance” country.  Anne told me listeners of WQXR would be very familiar with Hoe-Down as it is used often as lead-ins and fade-outs.

Both pieces were enjoyable.  Perhaps to emphasize the jazzy nature of Bernstein’s work, the conductor was sometimes more like a band leader, saying “one-two-three-four” before the third movement.

In the middle part of the program there were two pieces that also had strong national flavors: Piazzolla’s Argentinian and Ravel’s Eastern European.  Of course Ravel wasn’t Romany, but he was inspired by the Hungarian violinst Jelly d’Aranyi (playing in London, of all places) to write Tzigane.

Piazzolla was brought up in New York, and didn’t attempt to incorporate tango characteristics into his music until later in life.  The Four Seasons has both Latin characteristics as well as references to Vivaldi in each of its movements.  The arrangement for violin and string orchestra was commissioned by Gidon Kremer in 1992 after Piazzolla’s death, although the Program Notes reassures us that Piazzolla won’t mind.  The pieces didn’t originate as a group, and weren’t considered by Piazzolla as a complete cycle.  If I remember correctly, Vivaldi didn’t start out to compose a suite called Four Seasons either.

We heard New York Philharmonic’s Frank Huang perform a couple of the movements last summer at Snug Harbor (same arrangement), and another by the Prima Ensemable in Princeton.  Interestingly they didn’t seem as technically challenging as what we heard today.  Perhaps Huang made it look easy, or (more likely) perhaps today we were seated front and center.  And for some reason the quotes from Vivaldi were much more evident.  Tonight's performance wasn’t without its flaws: there were occasional intonation problems with g-string high notes, and the orchestra overwhelmed Chang at times.  However, both the musicians and the audience enjoyed it.  The orchestra parts weren’t pieces of cake either, with some challenging solo passages for the principals; they all did their job superbly.

Curtain call after Piazzolla’s Four Seasons.

It was quite a few years ago when we heard Tzigane played by Vadim Repin in Alice Tully Hall, and more recently by Stefan Jackiw at Count Basie.  Each performance had its share of difficulties.  Chang certainly tackled them better, although not always with ease.  (Again the intonation problems.)

After Ravel’s Tzigane.  Indeed Sarah Chang changed her dress.

From how her violin sounded, it appeared Chang wasn’t using a Stradivarius.  Indeed, a web search confirms that she uses a Guarnerius.  The richer timbre may work with the low notes, but the brilliance and clarity of a Stradivarius would be more suited for a concert hall performance.  She still swung the bow and kicked, but much less than she used to, if memory serves.

This is the opening weekend for the 2016-2017 season, and one has to say the programming is a bit puzzling.  While each of the pieces has an interesting story behind it, none of them is particularly intellectually demanding.

Not that there is anything wrong with Teddy Abrams, but why this conductor, who seems to have no history with NJSO, for the opening concert, no less.  One explanation for both the program and musician choices could be they were put together during the “transition period” between conductors.  Abrams conducted with gusto, but some of his exaggerated movements didn’t quite elicit corresponding strong statements from the orchestra.  He was the first conductor I saw who wore jeans on the podium.

He did talk a bit about the program, and I incorporated some of his remarks into this writeup.

It was a bit disappointing to see the large number of empty seats in the auditorium.  If it bothered the artists, they didn’t let it show.

We didn’t leave the house until about 6:45 pm as Anne had “Middletown Day” duties the whole day, but got to New Brunswick early enough that I could circle around the block (many blocks in fact) to find parking.  It was even more straightforward to return home.

Hong Kong Philharmonic – Yu Long, conductor; Yo-Yo Ma, cello; Wu Tong, sheng. September 10, 2016.

H. K. Cultural Center Concert Hall.  Balcony F164 (HK$1040.)

Program

Symphony in C (1855) by Bizet (1838-1875).

Silent Woods, op. 58, no. 5 (1884, arr. 1893) by Dvorak (1841-1904).

Duo (2013) by Zhao Lin (b. 1953).

I am stopping by Hong Kong this weekend on my way to several meetings in Manila next week.  When I decided on the trip, I looked around and found this program that would be the season opener for the Hong Kong Philharmonic.  With Yo-Yo Ma as the headliner, it was close to a no-brainer; more on the “close to” a bit later.

The program started with a symphony Bizet wrote when he was all of 17 years old.  The piece however wasn’t published or performed until 60 years after his death.  I recall hearing Mozart’s first symphony, written when was 8, over the summer.  Perhaps reviving very early work of composers is in vogue nowadays?

The piece was not particularly difficult, except for some very fast passages in the last movement.  However, I wouldn’t have guessed that this was written at the beginning of Bizet’s composition career: the melodies were beautiful, the orchestration quite sophisticated, and there was much contrast; the only complaint I have would be how often some melodies got repeated, they got a little old.  Not necessarily a showcase for the orchestra, especially as a season and concert opener, nor for the conductor, for that matter.  Nonetheless a good way to get the concert started, especially if one didn't have specific expectations.

The Program Notes tries to say something about each of the Bizet movements.  The upside is one knew what to listen for, the downside is that may limit one’s appreciation of the music, the very downside is the disappointment I felt when I couldn’t get the “obvious forerunner of those memorable oboe solos from The Pearl Fishers” (second movement, Adagio) or the “bustling idea which Bizet subsequently adapted for use in Carmen” (fourth movement, Allegro vivace.)  On top of that, I am sure the description of the first movement (Allegro vivo) as “could have come straight from Schubert” would offend both the French and the Austrian.  The only thing I got was the “drone bass” discussed in the third movement (Scherzo – Allegro Vivace.)  So sometimes music can be enjoyed simply for its sake.

After the intermission, Yo-Yo Ma played the Dvorak piece.  It started life as a movement entitled “Silence” in the piano duet “From the Bohemian Forest” composed in 1884.  Dvorak hastily arranged it as a cello and piano piece during his “farewell” concert before he left for the US in 1892.  It was arranged into the current version in 1893.  The piece is relatively short at about 8 minutes.  My seat was in the balcony section, behind the orchestra, so the solo cello was furthest away from me.  As a result I had a bit of trouble picking out the solo's lines, but they sounded beautiful when I could hear them.  And this is one instance where I wished they had a smaller orchestra so they wouldn’t drown out the soloist the way they did.  (It may work very well for audience facing the stage.)

“Duo” was the title in English, translated from the Chinese.  It is based on the story (popularized as Journey to the West, known to most Chinese) that describes how the monk Xuanzang traveled in search of scripture, enduring much hardship in the progress.  The original description of the piece is in Chinese, an English translation (which I went to first) was provided in the program.  It was only when I also read the Chinese that I realized how botched the translation was.  While the description involves some Buddhist concepts, those terms are quite well known and Google Translate should do quite well for them.  Instead, we seem to have whole passages translated by Google Translate, which can’t quite get the idioms and word orders correct in my own experience.  So something that should mean “early days of the Tang Dynasty” got translated as “an early morning during the Tang Dynasty,” and the Chinese title 度 (pronounced “du”) became “duo” in English.  As this was a double concerto, I thought the composer was being unimaginative in naming the piece.  However, in Buddhism “du” means something like “transition” or “salvation.”

The composition consists of three movements played nonstop.  They are all slow, with some fast passages thrown in.  Instead of tempo markings, we have the titles “Form, Happiness, and Awakening.”  A Financial Times critic called the work “more a matter of contemplation and survival than reaching a particular destination.”  On the surface this doesn’t sound like a compliment, but it is actually an insightful way to describe the rather pleasant and interesting piece.  If this composition is typical of the young Zhao Lin (趙麟), he is quite a composer.

The Sheng is a Chinese music instrument made of bamboo, and is used in this work to represent the qualities of the gods; the Cello, on the other hand, represents the unquenchable human spirit.  This and other notes in the Program certainly helped one’s appreciation, but the music can be appreciated at an abstract level.  It isn’t modern, not classical, not western, and not Chinese.  A great example of something that is cross-cultural and cross-period (as in classical, romantic, etc.)

This was the first time I was exposed to the Sheng as a solo instrument (I might have heard it in an ensemble before,) and I am impressed by both how versatile the instrument was, and how Wu Tong (吳彤) played it.  It could produce a range of sounds that one wouldn’t think possible from looking at the instrument, even though it looks quite complex.

Yo-Yo Ma was his usual exuberant self, delivering great music while appearing to enjoy it tremendously.  He had to feel particularly good since this piece came out of one of his Silk Road project activities.

The applause was thunderous, and we had two encores.  One was with both instruments, also written by Zhao, that has a drinking cup as its title, which Yo-Yo Ma roughly translated into “drinking song.”  While it sounded nothing like the aria Brindisi in La Traviata, it was capricious and enjoyable.  Ma then played a cello encore; it was a familiar sounding piece, but I do not know its title.  Both encores had orchestra accompaniment.  To Ma's credit, he acknowledged many of the orchestra members, and waved at those seated behind the stage.

Curtain call after "duo."  Yu Long and Wu Tong were wrapping their arms around one another, and Ma - cello in hand - was acknowledging the orchestra.

I have seen the name Yu Long (余隆) in Sydney and New York for quite a while now, mostly to conduct the Chinese New Year programs for the Sydney Symphony and the New York Philharmonic.  Per the Program Notes, he leads in some capacity the China Philharmonic (not the China National Orchestra), the Shanghai Symphony, and the Guangzhou Symphony; those must be among the top orchestras in the entire country, and he rules them all.  Recently he also collected high international honors from France, Germany, and the USA.  The best I can say is I am puzzled how he manages to do all that.  As my seat faces him, I imagined as a member of the orchestra, and felt rather uninspired.  He was a lot better with the Zhao piece, though.

I said earlier that buying a ticket to the concert was “close to” a no-brainer.  One hesitation I had was the Zhao piece, I thought if I were to listen to Ma it should be a famous cello concerto like Dvorak or Shostakovich.  The other hesitation was the price.  The best seats in a typical HK Phil concert costs me around US$50 (with senior discount), for this concert I had to dole out over $130 for a seat in the balcony (I didn’t realize it was behind the stage.)  I am not saying it was worth the money (hard to put a price on art), or that I don’t wish a more standard work was programmed, but I am quite happy with what I heard, and don’t mind how much I paid for the seat.  Of the many HK Phil concerts I have attended, this is the only sold out concert.  So big names matter, and the pricing scheme is market pricing at its best (or worst.)  I do wonder why van Zweden didn't do the opener; he remains the music director of Hong Kong Philharmonic.

It was a short ride back to Causeway Bay.  I am staying up past 2 am to get this finished, despite the considerable jetlag that is hitting me right now.

Mostly Mozart Festival Orchestra – Jeffrey Kahane, conductor and piano. August 12, 2016.

David Geffen Hall at Lincoln Center.  Orchestra Center (Seat S103, $50.)

Program – All-Mozart

Piano Concerto No. 21 in C major, K. 467 (1785).

Piano Concerto No. 24 in C minor, K. 491 (1786).

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

Despite the 1785 and 1786 dates, these piano concertos were written within a year: spring 1785 to spring 1786.  The Snapshot section in the Playbill describes them as “widely varied in their overall character, from the cheerful, bustling C major, K. 467, to the searching, even desolate C minor, K. 491, to the majestic E-flat major, K. 482.”

As I resume writing this entry on August 17, my original assessment that this didn’t leave a lasting impression is confirmed.  I recall No. 21 as being quite familiar (how can it not be, with the well-known slow movement), and being quite surprised how unfamiliar I was with 24 and 22.  To use my old cliché about my not being able to tell a good from a great Mozart performance, I must say this definitely wasn’t in the “great” category.  What I heard from Richard Goode at the last concert was definitely much better in comparison.

Kahane’s lines were simply unsatisfactory to my ears.  The phrasing wasn’t smooth, and he used too much pedal – Anne called it fuzzy playing (she used a Chinese colloquial term which means “unclear.”)  Perhaps he should concentrate on the piano instead of also trying to lead the orchestra?  The cadenzas were his own compositions.

At conclusion of tonight's concert.

The movements of No. 21 are Allegro maestoso, Andante, and Allegro vivace assai; for No. 24, Allegro, Larghetto, and Allegretto; for No. 22, Allegro, Andante, and Allegro.

I have a playlist of Mozart's works that I listen to on these long flights I take, with the hope that the soothing music will help me get some sleep.  That sometimes works.  Tonight reminded me of such a playlist, although I must say I stayed awake the whole time.  But there were times I was asking myself where things were.

Our son and family were visiting, so we took a late afternoon train to get to Lincoln Center.  My using an old train schedule, and that Penn Station was congested meant we had to buy a couple of sandwiches and eat on the subway.  CS was there with a couple of his friends, and he gave us a ride back to NJ.

Mostly Mozart Festival Orchestra – Louis Langree, conductor; Richard Goode, piano. August 9, 2016.

David Geffen Hall at Linoln Center.  Orchestra Left (Seat Z13, $39.50).

Program: All-Mozart

Symphony No. 1 in E-flat major, K. 16 (1764-65).

Piano Concerto No. 12 in A major, K. 414 (1782).

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

This is an unusual program in at least a couple of ways.  First, it’s all-Mozart, which is relatively rare even in a festival headlined as “Mostly Mozart.”  The other is both the first and the last symphonies Mozart wrote would be performed.

There is little doubt that 41 is the last symphony Mozart wrote, even though there is still considerable speculation on why he wrote it, and if any of the group of three he wrote during the summer of 1788 was ever performed during his lifetime.  K. 16 was written when he was eight, on tour in London; the Program Notes paints this beautiful picture of how Mozart’s sister Nannerl helped copy down the music as Mozart was composing it.

The other interesting thing is how Mozart reused one of the motifs in K. 16 (do-re-fa-me) in many of his subsequent works.  One could wax nostalgic how a theme in his first symphony got such a prominent role in his last (of course Mozart didn’t know No. 41 would be his last.)

I read up on the Playbill before the concert, so I was all eager to get the main and subtle points in the Program Notes.  Of course Mozart became a very different composer over the 20-some years between the symphonies.  Indeed No. 1 could be mistaken for a simple Haydn, and No. 41 for Beethoven.  And indeed the do-re-fa-me theme got reused multiple times in the last movement of the Jupiter Symphony.  The short (13 minutes) K. 16 has three movements: Molto allegro, Andante, and Presto; while the 31-minute K. 551 has four: Allegro vivace, Andante cantabile, Menuetto: Allegretto, and Molto allegro.

What I found more interesting was how in Jupiter Mozart built up the contrapuntal complexity by introducing additional themes (four altogether?) into the music one at a time.  Even though I couldn’t follow the exact notes of the different melodies, it was an interesting exercise nonetheless.  It would have been a more fruitful exercise if the annotator wrote down the four lines for us (Paul Schiavo calls them principal melody, counter-theme, and two counter-subjects.)  Indeed the Wikipedia entry on this symphony has markings of the themes which helped me greatly in understanding this.  And it has five of them.

The two symphonies were both delightfully performed.  Perhaps my attempt at analysis helped me overlook some of the sloppiness in the execution.  With the many quick passages (a lot of 8^th notes in 2/2 time, 16^th notes in some places) it may be too much to ask the strings to play as one voice, nonetheless I can imagine a more precise performance.

Sandwiched between the symphonies was Mozart’s Piano Concerto No. 12, performed by Richard Goode.  The last (and only) time I saw him perform was about three years ago, with the New York Philharmonic.  He looked quite a bit older than he did then, if memory serves.  Again he needed the music, although there was no page turner this time, and he did refer to the score very often.  That didn’t detract him from putting in a nice rendition of the piece, with some beautifully executed light-touch passages.  I need to slip back to my “can’t tell great from good” mode, though.  The concerto’s three movements are Allegro, Andante, and Rondeau – Allegretto (oh, the simple markings Mozart used.)  The cadenza was by Mozart.

Richard Goode at conclusion of performance.

The performance was broadcast live on WQXR, and videotaped for a later TV showing.  I wonder if they will edit out Langree’s heavy breathing before a dramatic phrase – I could hear it sitting in row Z!

Overall, the program was captivating enough that I found myself listening intently throughout the evening, which for me is a challenge when it comes to an all-Mozart concert.  Later this week we will hear in one concert three Mozart piano concertos, I wonder how well I will do then.

I have always wondered about the New York audience’s level of sophistication.  There were a few vignettes that were interesting.  Someone was trying to impress his date by explaining K (as in K. 16) stands for catalog, and that the harpsichord was a spinet piano.  Naturally this knowledgeable gentleman gave a standing ovation at the conclusion of the concerto.  Also, after the orchestra was seated for the piano concerto, many applauded as three people came on stage.  Turns out they were the (highly-paid) stage hands who had to move things around a bit to create enough room for the pianist.  Interestingly enough, few applauded after the conclusion of particular movements.

We had two tickets (from Goldstar), Anne had a dinner commitment and thus couldn’t go.  I took the train up and walked to Lincoln Center from Penn Station, grabbing some pizza along the way.  The concert ended early enough that I made the 9:38 pm train by a couple of minutes by taking the subway.  However, the train was held up for 20 minutes as only one tunnel was in use, and it had to wait for the eastbound trains to come through first.

Mostly Mozart Festival Orchestra – Paavo Jarvi, conductor; Martin Frost, Clarinet. August 5, 2016.

David Geffen Hall at Lincoln Center.  Orchestra Center (Seat Q103, $50).

Pre-concert Recital by Andrew Tyson, piano.

Ballade in A-flat major (1841) by Chopin.

Sonata No. 28 in E-flat major (“Les Adieux”) (1809-10) by Beethoven.

Program

La Sindone (2005/rev. 2015) by Part (b.1935).

Clarinet Concerto in A major, K. 622 (1791) by Mozart.

Symphony No. 4 in B-flat major (1806) by Beethoven.

The first piece probably found its way onto the program because Arvo Part is from Estonia, as is Jarvi.  The word Sindone (no idea what language it is, probably French) means shroud, and specifically refers to the Shroud of Turin.  Part was commissioned to compose a piece for the 2006 Winter Olympics in Turin, and wrote this as “a dark meditation on Christ’s death and burial.”  While I skimmed over the Program Notes before the concert, I forgot about this, and instead tried to listen to a description of the Shroud, including the burned corners.  Of course I didn’t get what I was expecting, and even now (a few hours after the concert) cannot make the connection between what I remember to what Part was trying to convey.  The piece was foreboding enough, and reflected in many instances the minimalist style of Part.  (Of course by the 2000s Part was more into music of a spiritual character.)  The piece called for several percussion instruments (triangle, church bell, bass drum, and others).  Anne’s remark was “not even close to being Mozart.”

Whatever one’s misgivings might be for the first piece, they were all dispersed with a simply delightful rendition of Mozart’s Clarinet Concerto.  A piece that is easy to like, it was captivating with Martin Frost performing it.  He seemed to enjoy playing it immensely, even though I am sure he has done it countless number of times.  Not a student of the clarinet, I don’t know how difficult this piece is technically, but certainly there were passages that called for adept fingering, long breaths, and large changes in pitches.  Mozart after all wrote it with the virtuoso Anton Stadler in mind.  It is so impressive that I have to withdraw my usual "I-can’t-tell-good-from-great-Mozart-performance" remark to: I can’t imagine seeing another performance of this composition that I would enjoy more.

Frost is Swedish, and his career seems to go beyond being a clarinetist to a conductor and a musicologist.  For encore he played a piece – with orchestra accompaniment - written by his brother Johann called “Don’t Worry” which contains bits of the popular birthday song, in commemoration of this being the 50^th anniversary of the Mostly Mozart Festival.  Evidently he had played something called “Be Happy” on some other occasion.

Curtain call after the Mozart Clarinet Concerto.

In looking for a review of this concert (didn't find any), I came across an article on Frost and the Mozart Clarinet Concerto.  One interesting fact is Frost plays this concerto on "a modern replica of a basset clarinet, a longer version that has an expanded bass register."

Beethoven’s Fourth Symphony is the little brother (or sister) sandwiched between the Eroica and the Fifth, and is not nearly as popular as those two.  This symphony would dispel the notion that Beethoven’s even-numbered symphonies are much calmer than the odd-numbered ones (musicologists used more sophisticated terms.)  There was a lot of contrast in rhythm, urgency, loudness, and other aspects.  Perhaps not as much as the odd group, but enough to make the piece distinctly Beethoven.

The flute got a lot of workout, especially in the first movement, and it came across dependably all the time, beautifully most of the time.  The concertmaster still dominated.  And there was some loss of control during the fast runs.  I do wonder how this would compare with an Orpheus performance.  Overall it was an enjoyable rendition of the symphony.

Paavo Jarvi is the son of Neeme Jarvi.  He leads the NHK Symphony Orchestra and other ensembles.  His motions were a lot more exaggerated than his father’s (I read up on my writeup on Neeme), and they elicited good responses from the orchestra.

Today we left our house at 4:30 pm and got to the Lincoln Center area at around 6 pm, giving us enough time to eat something simple at Europan before attending the pre-concert recital.

Tyson is a young pianist with quite a list of “wins” to his name, including the Avery Fisher Grant in 2013.  The Chopin ballade was light and cheerful (and difficult.)  I had not heard of Beethoven’s “Les Adieux” sonata before.  There is somewhat of a story behind this.  The first movement (Das Lebewohl, which translates into the French title, Adagio-Allegro) was written to memorialize the departure of Beethoven’s patron Archduke Rudolph from Vienna as Napoleon was about to lay siege to the city.  The second movement Abwesenheit (absence, Andante espressivo) is an expression of grief and loss.  But Das Wiedersehen (seeing someone again, Vivacissimamente) was composed after Rudolph returned to Vienna in 1810 and reflected Beethoven’s happiness.  All that in 17 minutes.

Mostly Mozart Festival Orchestra – Thierry Fischer, conductor; Martin Helmchen, piano. August 2, 2016.

David Geffen Hall at Lincoln Center.  Orchestra Right (Seat O13, $39.50).

Program

Symphony No. 59 in A major (“Fire”) (c. 1768) by Haydn.

Piano Concerto No. 25 in C major, K. 503 (1786) by Mozart.

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

Andres Orozco-Estrada, whom we saw a few years ago in Vienna and currently with the Houston Symphony, was originally on the program. He had a back program, and Fischer, of Utah Symphony stood in for him.

My first thoughts were that we have not had a truly “mostly Mozart” program for a while (the “Illuminated Heart” being an unusual exception,) so was rather looking forward to an evening I could simply sit back and enjoy.

To that end the program succeeded greatly.  The two Mozart pieces were reasonably familiar, and the Haydn one easy enough to grasp.

Per the program annotator, many believe that the Fire Symphony was also used for the play “The Conflagration” staged at Eszterhaza in 1774.  The annotator then proceeds to describe each of the movements in some detail: (1) Presto: flamboyant, octave-leaps, bursts, contrasts, furious; (2) Andante o piu tosto Allegretto: ambivalent, unexpected turns, fortissimo horn call; (3) Menuetto: bare texture, major-minor ambiguity, dance with gracefully taper phrases; and (4) Allegro assai: first and last words by wind instruments, military, fiery, blazing scales.  The performance was all that, as long as one remembers we are talking Haydn (and not Beethoven).  I was wondering how all this could be fitted into the 17 minutes stated in the program.  They didn’t, it took a couple of minutes longer.

Both Anne and I noticed the annoying aspect of a few of the string players dominating the rest of the section.  Today it was the concertmaster (called “First Violin Principal” in the program.)  There were times it sounded as if he was the only one playing and the others were simply going through the motion.  Probably because we were sensitized to that, the problem persisted throughout the evening.  I do have to give the orchestra some credit for sounding quite precise.

Mozart’s Piano Concerto No. 25 was completed the day before it was scheduled.  My usual remark about Mozart is I can’t tell a good performance from a great one.  Today’s performance probably also falls into that range.  However, I do have gripes at various times that the lines sounded disjoint (which I don’t ever recall saying), or too much pedaling was used.  At about 30 minutes, it was on the long side for Mozart.  The three movements are Allegro maestoso, Andante, and Allegretto.  The cadenza was by Martin Hecker.  The last movement was in rondo form, if not in name.

This is the first time we saw Helmchen, who looked quite young from where we sat.  Despite my misgivings, it was an enjoyable performance.

The program concluded with Mozart’s 40^th Symphony, one of the three Mozart composed in the span of six weeks during the summer of 1788.  The 35-minute work consists of Molto allegro, Andante, Menuetto: Allegretto, and Allegro assai.  It was one of only two minor symphonies Mozart wrote, it might be considered bleak by musicologists, but I suspected it sounded to most listeners as being sunny, as it did me.

Fischer didn’t have a railing behind the platform, and he didn’t need it as his feet was firmly planted on the ground.  However, his upper body motion could be quite exaggerated at times.  I don’t know how long ago he was called to do the conducting, but the orchestra responded to him well.

Thierry Fischer.

This New York Times article contains a one-paragraph review of the concert.  Both Fischer (“stylish”) and Helmchen (“refined”) got good grades.

We left home at around 5 pm today, traffic was bad, and it was around 7 pm that I parked the car and got to Lincoln Center.  The way back was quite straightforward, and we managed to swing by Newark to pick up CS, returning from a San Francisco trip.