Lviv National Philharmonic of Ukraine. Theodore Kuchar, conductor; Oksana Rapita, piano. February 17, 2023.

State Theater of New Jersey, Orchestra (Seat K5, $31.84).

Program

Chamber Symphony No. 3 for Flute and String Orchestra by Yevhen Stankovych.

Piano Concerto in A minor, Op. 16 by Grieg.

Symphony No. 7 in A Major, Op. 92 by Beethoven.

This is taken at the conclusion of the encore, during which the US and Ukrainian flags were displayed.

The program has traditional war horses in masterpieces by Grieg and Beethoven.  What is special is this Chamber Symphony by the Ukrainian composer Stankovych.  The wikepedia entry for him has him born both in 1942 and 1951, in the town of Szolyva in Hungary, which became today's Ukrainian city of Svaliava.  The piece is about 20 minutes long, and for the uninitiated sounds more like a flute concerto (in any case with the flute front and center).  Being my first encounter with the composer's music, I can only characterize the style as "propulsive," with a repetitive rhythmic pattern repeated many times in the orchestra, occasionally by the flute.  The piece certainly sounded more tonal than many contemporary pieces of today, but I would be hard pressed to single out any memorable melody.

The evening started with a composition by the Ukrainian composer Stankovych.  I couldn't find the name of the flutist in the program.

In the limited information I can find about the program, I don't see the name of the flutist.  I would think he warranted a mention.  As far as I could tell, the orchestra had a different person in the principal flute position (given where I sat, I caught only glimpses of the woodwind section).

If one were to name the most well-known piece by Grieg, his piano concerto must rank high on the list.  For good reason.  And tonight's soloist acquitted herself very well with her performance.  We were seated quite close to the stage, so could hear her well, most of the time.  There were still some passages where she was overwhelmed by the orchestra.  That perhaps is the lot of the soloist in a live performance.  The crowd was very appreciate after the first movement and break into a rather extended applause.  The problem with a captivating first movement is that it's a hard act to follow.  Perhaps the composition is to be faulted for that sort of (semi)letdown?

The audience greatly appreciated Oksana Rapita's performance of the Grieg piano concerto.

Similarly with Beethoven's Seventh, the defining movement (perhaps because of the movie Immortal Beloved) is the second.  The first, third and fourth movements constitute music that build up to and relax from the iconic second.  Measured that way, the performance was a disappointment.  I found the second movement to be too fast, too mechanical, and too devoid of nuances.  When performed well, the listener would admire how Beethoven can make great music with the simplest ingredients.  Tonight's performance made the composer repetitive and unimaginative.

The full orchestra after performing Beethoven's Seventh Symphony.

The orchestra played an encore piece that got many in the audience excited.  There were quite a few people wearing (what we think) "national clothing" for Ukraine, and a few clergy.  The concert had to have a special meaning for them.  For both the orchestra and the audience, the exuberance was tinged with a certain melancholy and sadness.

Opera Theater Rutgers. Puccini's La Boheme. February 11, 2023.

Elizabeth Ross Johnson Theater, New Brunswick PAC. Orchestra Left (Seat G5, $12.50).

Story.  See prior posts.

Conductor - Steven White; Rodolfo - Siyuan Yin, Mimi - Manli Deng, Marcello - Chris Fistonich, Musetta - Yeawon Jun, Schaunard - Carl Muhler, Colline - Ziliang Hao.

Having attended a couple of events at NBPAC, I am on their mailing list.  This event looked quite interesting, and at $10 a ticket (for seniors, with a $5 per order processing fee), what can go wrong?

Indeed it was a most enjoyable concert.  I expected enthusiasm, and perhaps stage fright, but didn't expect how well the opera was performed.

Perhaps it was the intimacy of a small theater (seating less than 400 people), the voices sounded great.  At first many singers' voices came across as harsh - particularly that of Mimi - but they grew on the audience.

The orchestra (Rutgers Symphony) also was up to the task.  I couldn't see the pit, and suspected a keyboard was used to produce some of the sounds.  It did on occasion overshadow some of the softer vocal lines.

The set was simple, perhaps out of necessity.  The different scenes have backdrops projected onto panels.

After Act II.

Curtain call (from left): Marcello, Musetta, Rodolfo, White (conductor), Spierman (Stage diector), Mimi, Schaunard, and Marcello.

I do wonder how much effort was spent to put this together.  All involved have every reason to be proud.

The question still remains, though.  Why is Lucia called Mimi?

New York Philharmonic. Santtu-Matias Rouvali, conductor; Nemanja Radulovic, violin. January 12, 2023.

David Geffen Hall at Lincoln Center.  Tier 1 Parterre.  (Seat EE201, $59.)

Program

Catamorphosis (2021) by Anna Thorvaldsdottir (b. 1977).

Violin Concerto No. 2 in G minor, Op. 63 (1935) by Prokofiev (1891-1953).

La Sacre du printemps (The Rite of Spring) (1911-13) by Stravinsky (1882-1971).

Yes, these two weeks constituted an audition for Rouvali as the next New York Philharmonic music director.  Indeed if one does a search on the subject, one finds many other contenders, including Dudamel and Malkki.  And (unfortunately), the Parterre seats aren't that good when it comes to a solo violin either.

If those were my only take-aways from the two concerts I attended, that would be pathetic.  The highlight of the evening was actually Prokofiev's second violin concerto.

This is a piece I have known since I was a teenager, and over the years I have heard it a few times (not often programmed), and have enjoyed every single performance.  The same tonight.  The concerto has always felt short in duration, so I was surprised it was 26 minutes in duration.  It went by quickly.  Being close to the orchestra, I had a renewed appreciation for how these professionals could do it so effortlessly.  And how "violent" the soloist attacked the violin.  The Serbian-French violinist Radulovic had to tune his violin between movements, which is expected.  Interesting the string players in the orchestra didn't need to do that (of course they can do that during the performance and not get noticed).

With the violinist's back towards us, and thus blocking both the violin and its sound, I often had to strain to hear the instrument.  When he moved in such a way that we could hear the instrument well, it sounded clean and clear.  The Program Notes doesn't say what violin it was, and I suspect it's a Strad.  (One clue is he won some "Stradivarius Competition.")

The three movements of the concerto are: Allegro moderato; Andante assai-Allegretto-Tempo I; and Allegro ben marcato.

For encore Radulovic played a piece I would call "Variations on a Theme by Paganini."  Perhaps it's a tribute to Rachmaninoff's take for the piano?  Here it is only the solo violin.  The original caprice is already difficult, the variations make it impossibly so.  There were quite a few sloppy passages, and it reminds me of how Repin played Ravel's Tzigane: a controlled train wreck.  But for the sections that work, it was surely great and impressive.

Radulovic acknowledging the orchestra, with Rouvali and Hwang looking on.

The Program Notes makes the Thorvaldsdottir piece very interesting.  The title, Catamorphosis is a word made from catastrophe and metamorphosis, and the piece (per the composer) is inspired by "the fragile relationship we have with our planet."  She further describes it as "... revolves around a distinct sense of urgency, driven by the shift and pull between various polar forces - power and fragililty, hope and despair, preservation and destruction;" and that "it is quite a dramatic piece, but it is also full of hope - perhaps somewhere between the natural and the unnatural, between utopia and dystopic, we can gain perspective and find balance within and with the world around us."  Words I don't understand.  To the extent I can make sense of them, I would expect contrasts that reflect the extremes expressed in the prose.  Another example of after five minutes one wonders if there will be anything new, and after ten minutes one can't imagine the music can keep going.  In this case the whole thing lasted twenty minutes.

The Program Notes lists the following atmospheric subsections, marked as inspirations for the players: Origin, Emergence, Polarity, Hope, Requiem, Portentia, and Evaporation.  With our binoculars we could indeed see these markings on the music.  I couldn't tell how much they inspired the musicians.

This was the US premiere of Catamorphosis.  The composer Thorvaldsdottir came on stage at the end of the performance.

CS (who didn't go to this concert) mentioned the reviews were very good, and the headline of the NY Times review is extremely positive about the performance of the Rite of Spring (the author had to say some bad things about van Zweden's performance a few years ago).  Perhaps it's where we sat, but I kept telling myself during the performance "does it have to so loud?"  That evidently didn't bother some folks sitting close to us as they applauded enthusiastically afterwards.

Nothing wrong with loud music, but a well performed Rite of Spring should bring out the mystery, anticipation, and horror of the sacrifice process, instead of an attempt to damage the eardrums of every member of the orchestra, and audience sitting close by.  (I didn't see any ear plugs in this particular violist.)

How loud was Rite of Spring?  Loud.  The Noise APP on my Apple Watch showed levels as high as 91db.  Difficult to screen shot, though.

I found out later that the iPhone keeps a record of the sound levels.  Here it shows a maximum of 99 dB, definitely too loud.

Rouvali made it a point to acknowledge the different players in the orchestra.  Here with Judith LeClair, NY Phil's bassoonist whose line started the piece.

As to Rouvali coming on as the music director, I have no opinion.  Since I described him as Dudamel-like, I do wonder why get a copy if the original is available?

We again took the train in.

Metropolitan Opera. Giordano's Fedora. January 11, 2023.

Metropolitan Opera at Lincoln Center.  Dress Circle (Seat G129, $97.50).

From the cover of the Program.  (I actually took a screen shot of the online version.)

Story.  Count Vladimiro Andrejevich is shot in St. Petersburg and dies.  The Nihilists are suspected to be behind this assassination.  Fedora, bride-to-be of Vladimiro, vows revenge.  Several months later, Fedora and Ipanoff are at Olga's party.  While Ipanoff is smitten by Fedora, Fedora wants to get Ipanoff to admit that he is the killer.  She reports her suspicion to the Russian authorities and Ipanoff's brother is arrested.  Fedora and Ipanoff eventually fall in love, and live together in Switzerland.  While Ipanoff is out, Fedora receives the message that Ipanoff's brother drowned in jail due to flooding of the river Neva, and their mother died upon hearing the news.  When Ipanoff finds out it is due to Fedora's action, he curses her.  Fedora takes the poison in her necklace, and dies in Ipanoff's arms.

Conductor - Marco Armiliato.  Countess Olga Sukarev - Rosa Feola, Princess Fedora Romazaoff - Sonya Yoncheva, Count Loris Ipanoff - Piotr Beczala, Giovanni De Siriex - Lucas Meachem.

The only Giordano opera I am familiar with is Andrea Chenier, and I have seen it on several occasions: at the Met, the Royal Opera House in London, and Deutsche Oper Berlin.  The short aria "Amor ti vieta," from Fedora, is very popular, with multiple versions available on YouTube, including a 10-tenor compilation.  As it was with Andre Chenier, I knew the tune, but had no idea what the opera was about.

The great experience I had with Andrea Chenier was not matched today.  The disappointment is on many levels.

First, the story.  I have remarked in the past that music makes or breaks an opera.  Still mostly true, but this story is just lame, for the most part. Compared to Andre Chenier with an intersection between political rivalry and personal jealousy, Vladimiro's affair with Loris's wife was the driver behind the shooting: Ipanoff found out they were having an affair, and shot Vladimiro in the ensuing struggle.  Perhaps told in the "right" way one would lament how unintended mistakes can lead to unintended consequences, I didn't get that here.  The only scene that is close to evoking pity or horror is when Fedora asks for forgiveness as she dies.

It appears Yoncheva is the star soprano at the Met nowadays, and indeed deserves much of the praise she has received.  Tonight her acting was simply flat, despite her putting a "sad face" on most of the time.  Her voice was good, but lacked the emotion I expected of her.  At the end of the day, she isn't quite ready to take Netrebko's place.

My first encounter with Beczala was him in role of Rodolfo in Luisa Miller at the Met in April, 2018, and role of Werther at the Zurich Opera a month later.  He dispatched the main aria with ease, and got the only applause during the opera.  Perhaps today I was a bad listener, out of the four performances I have seen him in, tonight's was the flattest.  The Met put out him singing this aria on YouTube.

I wonder if the apparent lack of chemistry between the principals contributed to how the performance was perceived.  (Conjecture on my part, of course.)

The bright spot tonight was the orchestra.  Armiliato elicited a great sound from the orchestra, helped by lovely harp accompaniment and the solo violin.  The music was generally quite lyrical, but didn't have too many memorable tunes.  Amor ti vieta is only about 1 minute 15 seconds long.

Each of the scenes takes place in a different city: St. Petersburg, Paris, and somewhere in the Swiss Alps.  The set designer went for realism, which is fine.  One can also easily imagine surreal settings for the three different settings.  The depth of the Met stage features prominently in the designs, especially when viewed from my seat.

The roster doesn't include the role of Vladimiro, perhaps he has no vocal (nor singing) role in the performance.  He is ubiquitous though.  First as someone doctors are trying to save, then as a wandering ghost in both later acts.  At some point I thought the dead Fedora would follow him - didn't happen.

Chopin's supposed nephew  (Boleslao Lazinski) played a couple of piano pieces during the Paris scene.  Billed as virtuosic pieces, they didn't add much to the story.  An audience has expectations of what they get from an opera performance (e.g., ballet scenes in Verdi), but tastes do change over time.  I do wonder if it is appropriate to adapt the operas to the audience (heretical statement?).

Then there is this shepherd boy (more likely cowherd as we are in the Alps) singing and playing this accordion-like instrument.  He did add a tinge of sadness to the overall atmosphere.  And would better fit in a surreal set.

The opera is relatively short (less than 2 1/2 hours, with a 30-minute intermission).  Attendance is so-so.  The seat I bought was the last row in dress circle.  The row in front was quite empty, and I took one of the seats (F123), which would have cost $30 additional.

From the web.

The curtain call was a long process: each of the dozen or so solo cast members took their time to come out.  Yoncheva was last (time stamped at 9:26 pm).  I made my way to the subway station, waited about 3 minutes for the next train, and then ran to catch the 9:38 pm train which was just pulling out as I got on the platform.  The next train was at 10:20 pm.  In hindsight I should have stayed a little longer.

I took the train, and missed the return train by less than a minute, so spent 40 minutes in Penn Station.

New Jersey Symphony. Xian Zhang, conductor; Daniil Trifonov, piano. January 6, 2023.

Richardson Auditorium at Princeton University.  Balcony Left (Seat CC11, $69).

Program

Piano Concerto No. 2 in B-flat Major, Op. 83 by Brahms.

Don Juan, Op. 20 by Richard Strauss.

Suite from Der Rosenkavalier, Op. 59 by Strauss.

Today is some sort of a double-header, Yuja Wang in the morning, Daniil Trifonov in the evening.  I bet that doesn't happen often.  It's with two different orchestras, though.

Trifonov was supposed to perform a Brahms concerto (not sure if it was the 1st or the 2nd) with the NJ Symphony in November, 2021, but performed instead Beethoven's second because of an injury.

There is much contrast between Brahms' two concertos.  The second one starts boldly, and demands a great deal of virtuosity from the performer, which Trifonov (as usual) handled with ease.  From our seat in the balcony of this small auditorium, the performance felt very intimate.

A couple of remarks.  First was both Brahms concertos are on the long side at around 50 minutes, although with a great performance time went by quickly.  The second was this duet between the cello and the piano  in the slow movement: one wishes the two instruments are in more balance - in this instance the cello was way too loud, even though Spitzer put out a great sound.  I discovered with amusement that Principal Flute Feller also doubled as a piccolo player for this piece.  NJ Symphony does have someone listed under "Piccolo" in its roster.

For encore we heard a lyrical duet between Trifonov and Spitzer.

Trifonov and Principal Cellist Spitzer after performing a lyrical encore.

Don Juan was the first work by Strauss that was popular world-wide.  He was 24 years old when he wrote it.  The opera Der Rosenkavalier, however, was written more than twenty years later.  Don Juan is a tone poem, a genre popularized by Strauss.  Per Wikipedia, Strauss had nothing to do with the Suite from Der Rosenkavalier, which Wikipedia speculates as being arranged by Rodzinski as he conducted at the world premiere by the New York Philharmonic (in 1945).  Strauss evidently didn't object to it; 

A Strauss musicologist can probably describe how his composition style changed and matured in the intervening years.  For the casual (and somewhat serious) listener, Strauss's music is best understood in terms of the various motifs (or tunes, since they can be quite long) he uses to describe the different characters and scenes.  (Other examples that come readily to mind are "A Hero's Life" and The Alpine Symphony.)  I hadn't taken the time to review these motifs.  One can discern several themes in Don Juan, but with Der Rosenkavalier some familiarity with the opera helps.  The two well-known motifs from the Suite are "Presentation of the Rose" and "Baron Ochs's Waltz."  Several sensual scenes can be observed in the work also.

The orchestration for Der Rosenkavalier certainly was more complex than that of Don Juan.  Here a third flute/double piccolo was used, and the percussion section included a ratchet.  The cymbals for some reason sounded tentative on several occasions.

A harpist was used in Don Juan.  Also notice a third flutist.

Two harps were used in the Der Rosenkavalier Suite.

CS and Shirley went to the concert also, and we had dinner before at SCHouse in Princeton.  Both Anne and Shirley know the cook there.  On the way back we discussed how energetic Zhang is, and whether that is a good quality to have.  I am generally okay with that, and the quality of NJ Symphony - even with its Jekyll and Hyde performances - has certainly improved considerably during her tenure.  I do wonder, however, if the Strauss pieces wouldn't have sounded as chaotic if she had been a bit restrained.

Dinner with old friends before the concert.

CS did the driving.  The concert was quite long, so we got home rather late.

New York Philharmonic. Santtu-Matias Rouvali, conductor; Yuja Wang, piano. January 6, 2023.

David Geffen Hall at Lincoln Center.  Tier 1 Parterre (Seat EE205, $53).

Program

Overture to Semiramide (1822) by Rossini (1792-1868).

Piano Concerto No. 3 (2022) by Magnus Lindberg (b. 1958).

Symphony No. 2 in D major, Op. 36 (1801-02) by Beethoven (1770-1827).

Rouvali and Wang at the end of the Lindberg Piano Concerto.

If I am being honest, the draw of today's program is Yuja Wang.  Still a victim of "big names," a well-known artist is enough to draw me to a concert.  For this year the exception is the NJPAC performance by Ma, Ax, and Kavakos; I refuse to pay Ticketmaster $22.60 (checked just now) to buy a ticket for the event.

Back to the entry at hand, today's Piano Concerto turned out to be a disappointment, on a couple of levels.

First, the "new" David Geffen Hall (technically the Wu Tsai Theater) has new seating sections behind the orchestra, which gives the overall Hall a more intimate feeling.  That intimacy, however, doesn't extend to the solo piano.  With its lid open, the piano's sound projects towards the main auditorium, and those in the back (called parterre to make it sound distinguished) hear a rather muffled sound.  So there was a level of frustration that while Wang pounded away (and she did, often) at the keyboard, I still had to listen intently for what was produced.

I do wonder, however, whether my reaction would have been any different if I had been able to hear the piano clearly.  My overall impression: a lot of movement, but the music never seemed to want to get anywhere.

Lindberg came on stage at the end of the concerto.

CS took this blurry picture of Wang, dressed more conservatively than usual. Those must be 4" heels though.

Lindberg of course sees it differently, in the Program Notes he is quoted as saying the work is "almost like an opera," "it's huge in a way, ... the biggest piece I have written," "I would almost call it three concertos in one piece," and "... a chart of eight different characters ... like a William Faulkner novel: There are many stories going on at the same time ..."  All of that is true, no doubt, but how much is a first-time listener expected to grasp this richness in his work? By the way, the markings for the movements are really helpful: first, second, and third.  And Lindberg's level of self-confidence - bordering on hubris - almost rivals that of Richard Wagner and Richard Strauss.

In a previous entry I said "I am certainly glad Lindberg's tenure as composer-in-residence will end this year."  That was 2010, quite a while ago.  I see no reason to revise that statement.  I admire those who love Lindberg's work.  Some of these composers - Lindberg included - use computers to generate (ideas for) their music, I would similarly need a computer to understand their work.

It's interesting that this modern composition was bookended by two works composed about 200 years ago.

The Overture to Semiramide started the program for the morning.

Beethoven's Second Symphony concluded the program.  I found myself humming some of the tunes the next couple of days.

We saw Semiramide at the Met with Angela Mead in the title role, back in 2018.  The Program Notes reminded the reader that this was a tragedy, with her son killing her (accidentally, per my entry for that performance) at the end.  The overture itself, however, sounded very crisp and bright (thus very "Rossini") which is a bit incongruent with the overall story - I don't recall hearing a single ominous passage in the overture.  At about 12 minutes, it is rather long for an overture.  Enjoyable, though.

The Beethoven piece brought out a few things.  As the Podcast "StickyNotes" says many times, Beethoven could get away with a lot of things that other composers cannot, in this case how often a theme is repeated.  The second was Beethoven is still pleasant to listen to - if it is well-performed, as it was today.  Symphony No. 2 sounds very much like Mozart and Haydn.  His Number 3 (Eroica) definitely shows a huge change in his compositional style; what's amazing is No. 2 is dated 1801-1802, while No. 3 is dated 1803, just one or two years later.

What I didn't expect, however, was how "routine" these two pieces sounded.  The Beethoven piece, in particular, was a representative of change in compositional periods.  One can legitimately ask whether these warhorses are enough to sustain the continued popularity of the classical genre.  Probably not, but that doesn't necessary mean the mantle has passed on to many of the modern composers.

The Finnish conductor Rouvali looks younger than his 37 years, and one of his teachers was Hannu Lintu, whom we saw recently.  Rouvali vocalized quite a bit, especially during the Beethoven piece.  I assume all conductors do that, it's just clearer when one is facing him.  Some people have described his moves as that of a ballet dancer; his flowing curly locks of hair and mannerisms remind me of Dudamel (who is only 42).  Rouvali will also conduct the next NY Phil series, which makes me wonder if he is auditioning for the post to be vacated by van Zweden in a couple of years.  We have tickets to that concert, with similar seats.  The solo piece is a violin concerto, I wonder if the sound would carry better in that case.

This concert was at 11 am, we took the train up.  CS also attended this concert.

New Jersey Symphony. Xian Zhang - conductor. December 16, 2022.

 

Richardson Auditorium, Alexander Hall, Princeton, NJ.  (Parterre L2, $90).

Program

Messiah by Handel.

Artists

Ellie Dehn, soprano; Maya Lahyani, mezzo-soprano; Miles Mykkanen, tenor; Nicholas Newton, bass-baritone

Montclair State University Singers, Heather J. Buchanan, director.

The last full Messiah concert we attended was in 2019, the COVID-19 pandemic closed down such performances for the last two years.  When this series by NJ Symphony was announced, I quickly got tickets as the Richardson Auditorium is quite small (capacity less than 1000).  The other possibility was the performances by New York Phil.  We are still in the "avoid NYC" frame of mind, so decided to pass.

Being in Row L means one is very close to the stage (well, the entire main floor is very close to the stage).  Together with being in a small auditorium, sound just carried well.

The tenor got to set the tone.  He voice was beautiful, steady, and firm.  All the qualities you want in an aria that set the tone for the program (Comfort Ye and Every Valley).  One could feel the audience's desire to applaud afterwards, and it is a good thing they thought better of it.  Otherwise the oratorio may be much delayed by all the interruptions!

The other 3 members of the soloist group held their own.  Perhaps it was just me, one got the sense there was a bit of "one upmanship," perhaps all in good fun.

The Montclair choir did very well.  Great articulation, nice voices, and the singers were generally enthusiastic.

The harpsichord and the organ were played by the same artist, and he had to carry the music from one instrument to the other as he moved from one keyboard to the other.  Better than having two copies and getting lost, I guess.  This was also done in other performances I have seen.  Too bad the Program didn't list his name, or the names of the other principal players in the string sections.

All in all, an enjoyable evening.

It was drizzling on our way over, so the driving was a bit difficult.  Things cleared up on our way back.

After Part I.

At the conclusion of the performance, Zhang acknowledged the different players.  Here the trumpet player.

New Jersey Symphony. George Manahan, conductor; Awadagin Pratt, piano. November 20, 2022.

State Theatre New Jersey.  Balcony (Seat F101, $57).

Program

Symphony No. 38 in D Major, K. 504 "Prague" (1786) by Mozart (1756-1791).

Rounds for Piano and String Orchestra (2021-2022) by Montgomery (b. 1981).

Suite from Le Bourgeois Gentilhomme, Op. 60 by Strauss (1864-1949).

Program for the afternoon.  Lasted 1:45 hours, with intermission.

As part of its Centennial celebration, NJ Symphony has invited back its past conductors to lead several concerts.  I know Manahan from the days NYC Opera was still a functioning organization.  Turns out he was NJS's interim director for the years 1983-1985, before I began attending NJS concerts regularly.

The Prague symphony was written by Mozart when he was in Vienna.  The Prague audience at that time was a lot more receptive than Mozart's home town, so the Symphony was premiered there, and hence its name.  Symphonies No. 39-41 readily come to mind when one talks about Mozart, but the Prague can hold its own, with its many memorable melodies.  The Adagio opening of the first movement also stands out, with many comparing it to the dramatic opening of Don Giovanni.  If one searches the web for "Mozart's most popular symphonies," No. 38 is often in the top five or ten.  It's always a pleasure to listen to a familiar Mozart piece.

The symphony is also unusual in that it has only three movements: Adagio-Allegro, Andante, and Finale (Presto).

Mozart's Prague Symphony was the first on the program.

Jessie Montgomery must be one of the hottest composers nowadays.  Her work is programmed by many orchestras, national and regional.  A check of her website shows her work being performed by nine different organizations for November (admittedly one of the busier months).

Today's 14-minute work is quite accessible.  She asks the soloist and the orchestra to use some interesting techniques to produce different sounds.  A couple of interesting situations.  The pianist stands up and plugs the strings on the piano on one occasion.  On a couple of other occasions the violins play arpeggios as the background: think Mendelssohn violin concerto, but for the whole section.  The effect didn't quite work out in this instance.  There is a 4-minute cadenza that is partially improvised.

The Program Notes makes this a "brainy" piece.  It's based on T. S. Eliot's poem "Four Quarters," and is in Rondo form.  Today's soloist Pratt collaborated with Montgomery during the composition process.

This was my first encounter with Pratt, and he certainly got the job done.  A recipient of the prestigious Avery-Fisher grant, he has performed with many well-known ensembles.  This work was one of his seven commissions for either piano and string orchestra; or piano, string orchestra, and Roomful of Teeth (which also has as one of its members Caroline Shaw).

An enjoyable piece, but probably requires multiple listenings to appreciate many of the subleties, e.g., there is a rondo within a rondo!

Awadagin Pratt was masterful in the performance of Jessie Montgomery's work.

In the opera Ariadne auf Naxos is incorporated a play.  The original plan was a three-act play, which didn't work out.  A second attempt didn't work either.  Out of that music Strauss extracted nine movements and published them as a suite.  He also incorporated some work of the 17th century composer Jean-Baptiste Lully into the music.  That was 1920, and this suite supposedly became a 20th century classic.  This was my first encounter with it.

The titles of the movements are: Overture to Act I; Minuet; "The Fencing-Master;" "The Entrance and Dance of the Tailors;" "Lully's Minuet;" Courant; "Entrance of Cleonte, after Lully;" Prelude to Act II; and "The Dinner."

It was easy enough (most of the time) to trace the movements in the suite.  The Program Notes describes the piano part as being very difficult, which may well be true.  What the Notes doesn't say is that the Concertmaster also has quite a few difficult passages, bordering on virtuosic.  The suite is compared with the suite from Der Rosenkavalier, although there didn't seem to be as many melodies in the suite we heard today.  (Perhaps my unfamiliarity is a factor.)

Eric Wyrick had some difficult violin solos in Strauss's suite.  I was somewhat surprised at how small the ensemble was.  There were, for instance four violins.

I drove up to New Brunswick at about 1:45 pm, and got a 30% discount senior ticket.  The concert was poorly attended, which was unfortunate.

I am somewhat looking forward to the concerts conducted by former music directors.  The only two I know are Jacque Lacombe and Gemma New.  In the earlier communications Lacombe was scheduled to conduct Faure's Requiem, but he is no longer on the roster.  A report I saw said it is due to a schedule conflict, indeed he has a commitment in Greece.  But I do wonder if the story is a bit more complicated, as I understand these schedules are set years in advance.

New York Philharmonic. Hannu Lintu, conductor; Sergei Babayan & Daniil Trifonov, pianos. November 18, 2022.

David Geffen Hall at Lincoln Center.  Orchestra (Seat BB105,  $49).

Program

Symphonies of Wind Instruments (1920; rev. 1945-47) by Stravinsky (1882-1971).

Concerto for Two Pianos, Percussion, and Orchestra, BB 121 (1937/40) by Bartok (1881-1945).

Ciel d'hiver (2013) by Kaija Saariaho (b. 1952).

Symphony No. 7 in C major, Op. 105 (1918-24) by Sibelius (1865-1957).

Percussionists: Christopher S. Lamb, Daniel Druckman, Markus Rhoten.

While I have heard of all the composers on today's program, all the pieces are new to me.  I looked for - not diligently - the New York Philharmonic Program Notes which are usually posted on line, but couldn't find them.  So I feverishly tried to read the Playbill that was handed out at the door.  They provided minimal help, as they talked mostly about the "context" of the pieces, rather than what the pieces were about.  There are a few exceptions, and I found those quite illuminating, but also felt like I was grasping at straws.  Perhaps the music is to be experienced, rather than described?  (Charitable statement to both myself and the commentators.)

Stravinsky wrote the first piece for wind players only.  The Program Notes describes Stravinsky as growing suspicious of how string instruments tend to get "expressive," and he wanted the piece to have an "uninflected sound."  He described the work as "tonal masses ... sculptured in marble ... to be regarded objectively by the ear."  The piece was dedicated to the memory of Debussy, the latter had dedicated a couple of his own compositions to Stravinsky.  Another interesting fact(oid) was that when Stravinsky created the version for today's performance, he had to use other people's "arrangements" of his original work; unusual, but how did it get that way?  I counted 22 musicians on stage for the piece.  New York Phil has always had a great brass and woodwind section.  I thought the NJ Symphony's brass section was comparably competent - Anne didn't think so.

22 players for the Stravinsky piece.

Perhaps it is not possible to talk about the Bartok piece without talking about his declining health at the time, and that he wanted to leave something for his surviving widow to earn money on.  There's always that tinge of sadness when Bartok's later works are discussed.  The piece didn't start that way, it was first written for two pianists and two percussionists, and enjoyed considerable success.  When Bartok was asked to revise the piece to its current form in 1940, he had already moved to the US, and was already suffering from leukemia.

With five soloists playing, and some of them playing multiple percussion instruments, the piece sounded quite complicated.  And the stage looked complicated, with two pianos, two pianists, two page turners, three percussionists and many percussion instruments (per Program Notes: timpani, xylophone, cymbals, suspended cymbal, snare drums played both with and without snares, tam-tam, triangle, and bass drum.)  For good measure a celesta was thrown in the mix.  I do suspect if the percussionists and their instruments were situated in their usual positions in the back, things would sound the same - and I say that with great admiration for the percussionists.

The stars are of course Trifonov and Babayan.  I know little about Babayan, other than he was Trifonov's teacher at some point, and that he is Armenian-American.  This was also the NY Phil debut for the Finnish conductor Hannu Lintu.  With van Zweden leaving in a couple of years, one wonders whether there is any audition elements whenever a new face appears.

The 25-minute piece was quite interesting. I couldn't see the pianists clearly, I could tell they were enjoying the give and take between themselves, with the percussion, and with the orchestra.  The three movements are (i) Assai lento - Allegro molto; (ii) Lento, ma non troppo; and (iii) Allegro non troppo.  Bartok was supposedly very analytical when he composed the music, with the work employing the strict mathematical ratios of the Golden Section and the related Fibonacci and Lucas sequences.  Not that I know what a Lucas sequence is, but I am sure there is no way I can tell.

The five soloists for Bartok: Rhoten, Lamb, Druckman, Trifonov and Babayan.  Notice how far back the concertmaster is.

This was my first in-person encounter with Saariaho.  I did watch (part of) her opera L'amour de lion on TV, performed by the Met, during the pandemic.  Today's Program Notes talks quite extensively about her musical style.  She had composed Orion in 2002, and today's piece (meaning Winter Sky) was arranged from that work's second movement, which has Orion the constellation stuck forever in the sky.  Orion is readily visible this time of the year, and I often look up the night sky to admire it.  I did that this evening, and yes, it is not good to be stuck in the sky for eternity (well, so far only a few billion years).  Betelgeuse, at about 550 light-years away is closest to earth, is a red giant that will "self-destruct" (that is, have a supernova explosion) in about 100,000 years.  So its eternity will eventually come to an end.

There is this E-flat - D - B theme that gets repeated in different ways.  Saariaho wrote different versions of it for different instruments after learning the different sounds from members of the Cleveland Orchestra. It is interesting to listen for that.  How that relates to Orion being frozen, however, is a mystery.

Compared to the three pieces that came before it, Sibelius's seventh symphony, his last, sounded downright simple.  At least the sounds are more traditional, dynamics go pretty much as expected.  The only novel element is that the 21-minute piece is one continuous movement with eleven different tempo markings.  Some analysts try to map them into traditional movements, and I am doing this for efficiency: (I) Adagio - (II) Vivacissimo - Adagio - (III) Allegro molto moderato - Allegro moderato - (IV) Vivace - Presto - Adagio - Largamente molto - ... with a coda consisting of Affettuoso - Tempo I.  In 1918 Sibelius did describe this work as "Joy of life and vitalite with appassionata passages in three movements - the last a 'Hellenic Rondo.'"  Although he allowed that things could change.  While I enjoyed the piece, I also spent considerable energy in trying to relate what I hear to what section I should be hearing, with little success.

The concert ended at 12:45 pm (time stamp for this photo).  This is the full orchestra, with perhaps 16 first violins, and it looks less crowded compared to the old hall - so perhaps there were some significant modifications made.  The music pieces total about 66 minutes, 10 minutes longer than the NJ Symphony Centennial celebration, yet today's concert felt a lot more substantial.

What's the characteristic of this blog entry?  It is quite long, and I might say quite informative as a lot is plagiarized from the Program Notes, yet it doesn't say much about the music itself, or how I experienced it.  Just what I said at the beginning.  This is somewhat like many of my visits to modern art exhibits.  I may have read up on the artists, maybe even a discussion of their work, but then I just walk through the exhibit hall without stopping to examine the displays.  I come out not knowing much more than when I got in, without an experiential appreciation (if there is such a thing) of the objects on display.

Just before the concert began the lights hanging over the stage were raised, reminiscent of what is done at the Met Opera.  Then the lights did a small dance number, which sent a chuckle through the audience.  This is my second visit to the renovated hall, and it felt more like someone just threw on a new coat of paint, with little change to the "bones" of the place.  The sound was okay, but then I didn't have too much trouble with the old hall either (other than complaining that there was no perfect seat in the auditorium).

Sometime in October NY Phil was advertising a 30% discount for subscriptions of three or more concerts, we took advantage of that offer.  We bought only three because of all the uncertainties around our schedule and travel to New York.  The price at the beginning of this blog entry?  Not a typo, and it includes a service charge of $6.  I am typing this paragraph on Saturday morning, and there are still scattered seats available for tonight's concert.  An orchestra seat in the last row (HH) costs $140+$21.50.  Again not a typo.  I just went back to review my credit card charge, it was $322 for six tickets.

We took the train in for this 11 am-start concert, and the trip was quite uneventful.

New Jersey Symphony and New Jersey Ballet. Xian Zhang, conductor; Yo-Yo Ma, cello. November 12, 2022.

NJPAC, Newark, NJ.  Grand Tier (Seat D104, $144).

Program

Herald, Holler and Hallelujah by Wynton Marsalis (b. 1961).

Cello Concerto in B Minor, Op. 104 by Dvorak.

Selections from Four Dances from Estancia by Alberto Ginastera.

100 years ago, 19 musicians started an ensemble in Montclair, which eventually evolved to the current orchestra.  While the 2022/2023 season started a few weeks ago, tonight's concert is the Centennial Gala of such an event.

The Program Notes states that the durations of the three pieces are 6, 40 and 11 minutes, totaling to less than one hour.  While the program didn't start at 7:30 pm, it didn't end until around 9 pm.  Several people spoke congratulatory messages, including Governor Phil Murphy.  I guess that's to be expected.  Not that people would remember much what was said, except perhaps Murphy and Ma knew each other from their college days.  (They both attended Harvard at about the same time, and Murphy evidently was an aspiring musician then.)

The Marsalis piece was co-commissioned by NJ Symphony and was first performed at NJPAC in January.  The Program Notes describes it as "exuberant and celebratory," and that it "floats in and out of marching band, big band, and jazz."  The ensemble consists (coincidentally?) of 19 brass and percussion players.

All good.  While I didn't get the range the Program Notes talks about, I certainly hear Gershwin, Copland, and lots of jazz in the piece.

There are several YouTube videos with Yo-Yo Ma playing the Dvorak concerto.  I saw (parts of) two of them, and they are both great.  My expectations were thus high.  And looking back, one of my previous encounters (two entries in the blog) was a great experience.  Alas, expectations were not met.  A major contribution to the disappointment has to be the acoustics at our seats.  The cello sounded distant, and therefore weak.  The other reason - perhaps - was Ma made this look easy, so there was less appreciation of the degree of difficulty involved.  I had written previously about the background, and the loss expressed in the last movement.  That came through in the recordings I viewed, but not tonight.

For those who think this writer is being too critical, let me say perhaps Ma doesn't have any bad days, but the listener may have a bad day every now and then.  Also, at Gilbert's farewell concert in June, 2017, with NY Phil, Ma joined the cello section after performing as a soloist, I didn't notice him in the orchestra today.

I don't understand how the third piece fits in with the program, especially since I have not noticed much cooperation between NJ Ballet and NJ Symphony in the past.  One could also ask why the Montclair choral ensemble wasn't included in today's celebration, as they have been cooperating with the Symphony for quite a while.

The Brass Section was in First Tier for the Marsalis piece.  The percussionists and the conductor were on the regular stage.

Before the performance of the Dvorak cello concerto.  When I checked earlier in the day, only a few tickets were left.  A typical NJ Symphony concert would have 40% or so empty seats in my experience.

Ma didn't bring out his cello after the performance, meaning there would be no encores.  He did try to whip up the audience to applaud the orchestra.

Ma made it a point to go to the cello section and shake hands with the players.

After the performance of Ginaster's dances.  Time stamp was 8:59 pm.

The other source of puzzlement is why only three of the four dances were included in the last piece.  Be that as it may, the music was accompanied by pairs of ballet dances who were either delivering a story, or simply dancing for dancing's sake.  The lady sitting a few seats away from us kept complaining (too loudly, at times) they should shine more light on the stage.  I agree with that sentiment.

Perhaps I am looking at it all wrong.  As a musical event this wasn't the best of my experiences with NJ Symphony.  One could argue for a celebration this fit the bill.  And the Symphony raised a lot of money from the event ($1M?). My counterargument then is if it's not about musical excellence, then what is it about?  One could go back and forth, but it was what it was.

We left right after the program ended, even though there were rumors of an encore.  Somehow I got the impression Parking Lot C (our usual place) was closed (turns out it wasn't), so we parked in this huge underground Military Park lot, and we didn't want to be stuck in traffic when we leave.  People were handing out these "commemorative" books, and I grabbed one.  It contains some interesting tidbits, including that once Ma, Ax, and Dudley Moore (!) performed with the Symphony.

100-year birthdays, no matter whose, don't come around that often.  I was glad to be at this one.