Richardson Auditorium in Alexander Hall, Princeton University. Row 1, Balcony Left.
Quartet members: Valerie Li & Yuri Cho, violins; David Samuel, viola; Adrian Fung, cello.
Program
String Quartet Op. 18, No. 3 by Ludwig van Beethoven (1770-1827).
Cat O’ Nine Tails by John Zorn (b. 1953).
Crisantemi by Giacomo Puccini (1858-1924).
String Quartet No. 2 in A Major, Op. 68 by Dmitri Shostakovich (1906-1975).
The word Afiara is based on the Spanish verb that means trust, which is not a bad way to describe what quartet members look for in one another. This group, formed in San Francisco, consists of Canadians. Per the program, they have won quite a few awards (not sure how prestigious those awards are) and will be a resident quartet at Julliard.
The Beethoven quartet was written quite early in the composer’s music career (we heard Op. 95 last week). Writing this a couple of days after hearing it, I find out to my dismay I don’t remember much of it, except that it is a more equal partnership among the four players – even though there was no doubt what the principal instrument was. The four movements are (i) Allegro; (ii) Andante con moto; (iii) Allegro; and (iv) Presto.
Zorn is supposedly a well-known jazz composer (I of course didn’t know that). Fung described the music a bit, although it still didn’t prepare the audience for the interesting sounds the instruments produced. Oftentimes they make sounds that a traditional string player would say “oops” to. These include playing on the “wrong” part of the string, quickly sliding the fingers up and down, applying the right amount of pressure to make a grating noise. I was quite taken for the first few minutes, but then thought to myself 12 minutes of this was a bit much, unless the intention is to make the listener cringe, in which case it succeeds.
I didn’t know Puccini wrote anything other than operas. Looking up Wikipedia, I see there is a long list of non-operatic works. I am embarrassed to say this is the first piece I heard. Chrysanthemum was written for his friend’s funeral. It was later retitled “elegy” for the commercial market. It was a nice 5 minute piece that I wouldn’t have associated with Puccini (again shows my lack of knowledge.)
I recall hearing another Shostakovich quartet a few years ago at Princeton, it was performed by the Bretano Quartet. Going back to my notes, that was a much later quartet (Op. 144). I remember that as being a very dark piece of music that was quite interesting and enjoyable. Tonight’s didn’t disappoint either, except it (again) reinforced my biggest gripe with quartets: can’t get away from the impression that it is solo violin with three string accompanists. On its own one may consider this a rather dark piece of music, but compared to Op.144 (which drove my expectations), it was downright sunny. It was written in a major key, at least.
It was an overall enjoyable concert. Sometimes I think they should give the second violin the more brilliant instrument so that part can be heard more clearly. The bass and viola acquitted themselves quite well, though.
Wednesday, July 22, 2009
Tuesday, July 14, 2009
St. Petersburg String Quartet; Teddy Abrams, Clarinet. 7/13/2009.
Richardson Auditorium in Alexander Hall, Princeton University. Row 3, Balcony Left.
Quartet members:
Alla Aranovskaya & Alla Krolevich, violins; Boris Vayner, viola; Leonid Shukayev, cello.
Program
String Quartet No. 11 in F Minor, Op. 95 "Serioso" by Ludwig van Beethoven (1770-1827).
Quartet No. 2 in F Major, Op. 92 by Sergei Prokofiev (1891 - 1953).
Clarinet Quartet in B Minor, Op. 115 by Johannes Brahms (1833 - 1897).
Our friends David and Vivien alerted to this concert. They were nice enough to offer to get to Princeton at 6:30 pm to get tickets for us. It ended up being their son Peter and their friend Melinda who got tickets for us. We grabbed a quick bite at Panera Bread across the street. The concert was well-intended.
While the first violinist went backstage to find her music, the violist described briefly the Beethoven and Prokofiev pieces. The Beethoven piece (at about 25 minutes) is the shortest ("most shortest," in the violist's words) of his quartets. Prokofiev wrote this quartet while living in the mountains as a result of evacuation during the war. It contains quite a few references to local folk melodies. The clarinetist described that clarinet pieces are usually written for specific musicians that impress particular composers, and that Brahms did this after he retired from composing after Op. 111 (if I remember correctly).
The group played well together. The viola seemed particularly strong and rich. The cello player was quite good, with his fingers flying all over the finger board. He did the cello's principal lines very well, but lots of times I wished he was stronger. The second violin also could be stronger.
The Prokofiev piece does contain quite a few folk-like melodies, but I am sure Prokofiev made it sound much more modern than the melodies are. Abrams said the end of the Brahms piece repeats the theme in the first movement. Alas, neither Anne nor I could hear that connection.
String quartets are not my cup of tea. No matter how carefully I listen to the music, it always seems to be three string players accompanying the first violinist. Some of that undoubtedly is due to the inherent nature of the first violin playing the highest pitched notes; as the time-keeper, the first violinist also tends to move the most (considerably so in this case); and admittedly this is simply how quartet music is written. Even though the pieces tonight seemed more balanced than usual, I still came away with some players predominantly in the accompaniment mode. Perhaps I should study a couple of pieces in depth and learn to appreciate how they fit together. Or simply listen to more quartets.
For the record, I list the movements of the three works. Beethoven (i) Allegro con brio; (ii) Allegretto ma non troppo; (iii) Allegro assai vivace ma serioso; and (iv) Larghetto espressivo - Allegretto agitato. Prokofiev: (i) Allegro sostenuto; (ii) Adagio; and (iii) Allegro. Brahms: (i) Allegro; (ii) Adagio; (iii) Andantino. Presto non assai, ma con sentimento; and (iv) Con moto.
Anne and I had frozen yogurts afterwards. Traffic to and from Princeton was unusually light today.
Quartet members:
Alla Aranovskaya & Alla Krolevich, violins; Boris Vayner, viola; Leonid Shukayev, cello.
Program
String Quartet No. 11 in F Minor, Op. 95 "Serioso" by Ludwig van Beethoven (1770-1827).
Quartet No. 2 in F Major, Op. 92 by Sergei Prokofiev (1891 - 1953).
Clarinet Quartet in B Minor, Op. 115 by Johannes Brahms (1833 - 1897).
Our friends David and Vivien alerted to this concert. They were nice enough to offer to get to Princeton at 6:30 pm to get tickets for us. It ended up being their son Peter and their friend Melinda who got tickets for us. We grabbed a quick bite at Panera Bread across the street. The concert was well-intended.
While the first violinist went backstage to find her music, the violist described briefly the Beethoven and Prokofiev pieces. The Beethoven piece (at about 25 minutes) is the shortest ("most shortest," in the violist's words) of his quartets. Prokofiev wrote this quartet while living in the mountains as a result of evacuation during the war. It contains quite a few references to local folk melodies. The clarinetist described that clarinet pieces are usually written for specific musicians that impress particular composers, and that Brahms did this after he retired from composing after Op. 111 (if I remember correctly).
The group played well together. The viola seemed particularly strong and rich. The cello player was quite good, with his fingers flying all over the finger board. He did the cello's principal lines very well, but lots of times I wished he was stronger. The second violin also could be stronger.
The Prokofiev piece does contain quite a few folk-like melodies, but I am sure Prokofiev made it sound much more modern than the melodies are. Abrams said the end of the Brahms piece repeats the theme in the first movement. Alas, neither Anne nor I could hear that connection.
String quartets are not my cup of tea. No matter how carefully I listen to the music, it always seems to be three string players accompanying the first violinist. Some of that undoubtedly is due to the inherent nature of the first violin playing the highest pitched notes; as the time-keeper, the first violinist also tends to move the most (considerably so in this case); and admittedly this is simply how quartet music is written. Even though the pieces tonight seemed more balanced than usual, I still came away with some players predominantly in the accompaniment mode. Perhaps I should study a couple of pieces in depth and learn to appreciate how they fit together. Or simply listen to more quartets.
For the record, I list the movements of the three works. Beethoven (i) Allegro con brio; (ii) Allegretto ma non troppo; (iii) Allegro assai vivace ma serioso; and (iv) Larghetto espressivo - Allegretto agitato. Prokofiev: (i) Allegro sostenuto; (ii) Adagio; and (iii) Allegro. Brahms: (i) Allegro; (ii) Adagio; (iii) Andantino. Presto non assai, ma con sentimento; and (iv) Con moto.
Anne and I had frozen yogurts afterwards. Traffic to and from Princeton was unusually light today.
Thursday, June 25, 2009
New York Philharmonic – Lorin Maazel, conductor. June 24, 2009.
Avery Fisher Hall at Lincoln Center, Second Tier Center (Seat EE5, $54).
Program
Symphony No. 8 in E-flat major (1906-07) by Mahler (1860-1911)
Artists
Christine Brewer, Nancy Gustafson, Jeanine De Bique, Sopranos
Mary Phillips, Nancy Maultsby, Mezzo-Sopranos
Anthony Dean Griffey, Tenor
Wolfgang Schone, Bass
New York Choral Artists, Joseph Flummerfelt, Director
The Dessoff Symphonic Choir, James Bagwell, Director
Brooklyn Youth Chorus, Dianne Berkun, Director
This series of concerts will be Maazel’s last as music director of the New York Philharmonic, and for this special occasion they will play the “Symphony of a Thousand” by Mahler. Anne and I debated whether we should take the train in from Seacaucus Junction since the park & ride lot is now open, but decided to drive in via the Holland Tunnel. We managed to get free parking on 10th Ave and shared a sandwich from EuroPan before the concert.
When the evening began, the Philharmonic’s Chairman Paul Guenther came on stage to pay a short tribute to Maazel, and presented a couple of plaques from the City and the Philharmonic Society to Maazel. Maazel also said some words, including the oft-used wistful words “all good things must come to an end.” Mayor Bloomberg designated the day as “Lorin Maazel Day” and Maazel in turned declared the evening to be Mahler’s. I thought a better tribute would have been to the orchestra.
This symphony is a massive piece of music. It is divided into two parts, totaling about 90 minutes. The first part is based on the medieval Latin hymn “Veni, creator spiritus” written for the Pentecost; it lasts about 30 minutes (program notes say 23). The second part is based on the final scene of Faust, the poem written by Goethe. It is in German.
The premiere of the symphony employed 858 singers, 171 instruments, and 1 conductor, totaling 1030. For tonight’s concert, I estimate 250 singers and 150 instruments. Nearly everyone in the orchestra showed up; I am sure there were a few temps also.
The complexity of the symphony is frankly beyond me. I do not understand how the two parts relate to each other. Actually, the meaning of the individual parts escapes me also. Finally, the music is not something I would have naturally associated with Mahler. I think of Mahler’s music as a series of vistas.
Part I sounds very much like the hymn it is. There is much shouting involved. Part II is more complicated. It begins with about 10 minutes of instrument music, before the voices come in. Also, it is more “opera-like” and in many places is evocative of Puccini. The dynamic range is much wider. The soloists put in a mixed performance, more often than not their voices are lost in the cacophony of choir and orchestra music. De Bique sang only two lines from the Second Tier Box as Mater gloriosa. This must be one of the shortest performances that earned the artist a billing in the program. There were brass instruments that played from the balcony, and many passages where only a few instruments accompanied the singing. Maazel’s movements were more pronounced than usual, perhaps the weight of this being the last series got to him.
The audience gave Maazel an enthusiastic curtain call at the end. Many ignored the house rules and whipped out their cameras to take pictures.
I haven’t found any review on the concert yet as I write this. I am glad I went, both to experience this complex piece of music, and to witness the end of the Maazel era.
Program
Symphony No. 8 in E-flat major (1906-07) by Mahler (1860-1911)
Artists
Christine Brewer, Nancy Gustafson, Jeanine De Bique, Sopranos
Mary Phillips, Nancy Maultsby, Mezzo-Sopranos
Anthony Dean Griffey, Tenor
Wolfgang Schone, Bass
New York Choral Artists, Joseph Flummerfelt, Director
The Dessoff Symphonic Choir, James Bagwell, Director
Brooklyn Youth Chorus, Dianne Berkun, Director
This series of concerts will be Maazel’s last as music director of the New York Philharmonic, and for this special occasion they will play the “Symphony of a Thousand” by Mahler. Anne and I debated whether we should take the train in from Seacaucus Junction since the park & ride lot is now open, but decided to drive in via the Holland Tunnel. We managed to get free parking on 10th Ave and shared a sandwich from EuroPan before the concert.
When the evening began, the Philharmonic’s Chairman Paul Guenther came on stage to pay a short tribute to Maazel, and presented a couple of plaques from the City and the Philharmonic Society to Maazel. Maazel also said some words, including the oft-used wistful words “all good things must come to an end.” Mayor Bloomberg designated the day as “Lorin Maazel Day” and Maazel in turned declared the evening to be Mahler’s. I thought a better tribute would have been to the orchestra.
This symphony is a massive piece of music. It is divided into two parts, totaling about 90 minutes. The first part is based on the medieval Latin hymn “Veni, creator spiritus” written for the Pentecost; it lasts about 30 minutes (program notes say 23). The second part is based on the final scene of Faust, the poem written by Goethe. It is in German.
The premiere of the symphony employed 858 singers, 171 instruments, and 1 conductor, totaling 1030. For tonight’s concert, I estimate 250 singers and 150 instruments. Nearly everyone in the orchestra showed up; I am sure there were a few temps also.
The complexity of the symphony is frankly beyond me. I do not understand how the two parts relate to each other. Actually, the meaning of the individual parts escapes me also. Finally, the music is not something I would have naturally associated with Mahler. I think of Mahler’s music as a series of vistas.
Part I sounds very much like the hymn it is. There is much shouting involved. Part II is more complicated. It begins with about 10 minutes of instrument music, before the voices come in. Also, it is more “opera-like” and in many places is evocative of Puccini. The dynamic range is much wider. The soloists put in a mixed performance, more often than not their voices are lost in the cacophony of choir and orchestra music. De Bique sang only two lines from the Second Tier Box as Mater gloriosa. This must be one of the shortest performances that earned the artist a billing in the program. There were brass instruments that played from the balcony, and many passages where only a few instruments accompanied the singing. Maazel’s movements were more pronounced than usual, perhaps the weight of this being the last series got to him.
The audience gave Maazel an enthusiastic curtain call at the end. Many ignored the house rules and whipped out their cameras to take pictures.
I haven’t found any review on the concert yet as I write this. I am glad I went, both to experience this complex piece of music, and to witness the end of the Maazel era.
Tuesday, June 23, 2009
New York Philharmonic – Lorin Maazel, conductor. June 20, 2009.
Avery Fisher Hall at Lincoln Center, First Tier Center (Seat BB15, $54).
Program
Monaco Fanfares, Op. 8 (1986) by Lorin Maazel (b. 1930).
Farewells: Symphonic Movement, Op. 14 (1998-99) by Maazel.
Symphony No. 2 in D major, Op. 43 (1901-02) by Sibelius (1865-1957)
This is the second to last series before Maazel retires at the end of the season. We saw the concert last week, and plan to see the concert next week (Mahler No. 8, Symphony of a Thousand) as well.
The Program Notes contains some interesting tidbits of the composing process as Maazel sees it. Fanfares was written more or less on a lark since Maazel was hearing the fanfares being played daily while he lived in Monaco. It has hints of Ravel’s Bolero, but I doubt very much it would be nearly as successful. The Farewells piece is quite long at over 25 minutes, and utilizes an army of percussion instruments (including the glass plate, bell plates, whistle, lion’s roar; the whistle is blown by a percussion player). The title would suggest it was written for this occasion, but it turns out to be farewells to the earth as we know it. It is a piece that an environmentalist would love. In his rather detailed description of the work, Maazel talks of depleted ozone layers, disappearance of species, and arms of mass destruction. The piece is indeed quite pessimistic. I could follow the music with the program notes reasonably well at first, but eventually gave up as it got grayer and grayer. There is a degree of monotony after a while: one can only take so much bad news and it then flies over your head.
Maazel says he now writes only cheerful music. Let’s hope he does well with it.
The second symphony is Sibelius’s most played symphony, and we are quite sure we have heard it several times before. We are familiar only with a couple of tunes, including the phrase which famously attempts to come out several times before it is fully stated. Sibelius music is usually melancholic, this is no exception; but it sounds much brighter after hearing the Farewells piece earlier. Inevitably people try to read politics and a script into the symphony, even though it was discouraged by Sibelius himself. I am okay with being told whether the composer had a narrative in mind.
The four movements (several played without pause) have the longest tempo markings: (i) Allegretto - Poco allegro - Tranquillo, ma poco a poco ravvivando il tempo al allegro; (ii) Temp andante, ma rubato - Andante sostenuto; (iii) Vivacissimo - Lento e suave - Largamente; and (iv) Finale. Allegro moderato.
It is interesting to observe Sibelius managed to get out a full texture of sounds with the most traditional orchestration (e.g., timpani being the only percussion instruments). If I may misquote Rimsky-Korsalkov’s comment on the performance: “Well, I suppose that’s possible, too.”
The audience gave Maazel a long ovation after the concert, which is quite well-deserved. Despite all the criticism by these New York Times reviewers, I have enjoyed the New York Philharmonic during the several years I have been going to their concerts. I have also considered myself an “average” concert goer as concert goers go, so I am glad the play is at my level. Never too simple, and with an occasional piece that’s over my head. That, evidently, is not good enough for our professional listeners.
In the car on the way back, we listened to Brahm's first symphony on WQXR which also contained one tune familiar to us amidst music that sounded vaguely familiar.
The New York Times review is uncharacteristically enthusiastic.
Program
Monaco Fanfares, Op. 8 (1986) by Lorin Maazel (b. 1930).
Farewells: Symphonic Movement, Op. 14 (1998-99) by Maazel.
Symphony No. 2 in D major, Op. 43 (1901-02) by Sibelius (1865-1957)
This is the second to last series before Maazel retires at the end of the season. We saw the concert last week, and plan to see the concert next week (Mahler No. 8, Symphony of a Thousand) as well.
The Program Notes contains some interesting tidbits of the composing process as Maazel sees it. Fanfares was written more or less on a lark since Maazel was hearing the fanfares being played daily while he lived in Monaco. It has hints of Ravel’s Bolero, but I doubt very much it would be nearly as successful. The Farewells piece is quite long at over 25 minutes, and utilizes an army of percussion instruments (including the glass plate, bell plates, whistle, lion’s roar; the whistle is blown by a percussion player). The title would suggest it was written for this occasion, but it turns out to be farewells to the earth as we know it. It is a piece that an environmentalist would love. In his rather detailed description of the work, Maazel talks of depleted ozone layers, disappearance of species, and arms of mass destruction. The piece is indeed quite pessimistic. I could follow the music with the program notes reasonably well at first, but eventually gave up as it got grayer and grayer. There is a degree of monotony after a while: one can only take so much bad news and it then flies over your head.
Maazel says he now writes only cheerful music. Let’s hope he does well with it.
The second symphony is Sibelius’s most played symphony, and we are quite sure we have heard it several times before. We are familiar only with a couple of tunes, including the phrase which famously attempts to come out several times before it is fully stated. Sibelius music is usually melancholic, this is no exception; but it sounds much brighter after hearing the Farewells piece earlier. Inevitably people try to read politics and a script into the symphony, even though it was discouraged by Sibelius himself. I am okay with being told whether the composer had a narrative in mind.
The four movements (several played without pause) have the longest tempo markings: (i) Allegretto - Poco allegro - Tranquillo, ma poco a poco ravvivando il tempo al allegro; (ii) Temp andante, ma rubato - Andante sostenuto; (iii) Vivacissimo - Lento e suave - Largamente; and (iv) Finale. Allegro moderato.
It is interesting to observe Sibelius managed to get out a full texture of sounds with the most traditional orchestration (e.g., timpani being the only percussion instruments). If I may misquote Rimsky-Korsalkov’s comment on the performance: “Well, I suppose that’s possible, too.”
The audience gave Maazel a long ovation after the concert, which is quite well-deserved. Despite all the criticism by these New York Times reviewers, I have enjoyed the New York Philharmonic during the several years I have been going to their concerts. I have also considered myself an “average” concert goer as concert goers go, so I am glad the play is at my level. Never too simple, and with an occasional piece that’s over my head. That, evidently, is not good enough for our professional listeners.
In the car on the way back, we listened to Brahm's first symphony on WQXR which also contained one tune familiar to us amidst music that sounded vaguely familiar.
The New York Times review is uncharacteristically enthusiastic.
Sunday, June 14, 2009
New York Philharmonic – Lorin Maazel, conductor. June 13, 2009.
Avery Fisher Hall at Lincoln Center, Third Tier Center (Seat EE102, $47).
Program
War Requieum, Op. 66 (1961-62) by Britten (1913-76).
Performers
Lionel Bringuier, Conductor, chamber orchestra
Nancy Gustafson, Soprano; Vale Rideout, Tenor; Ian Greenlaw, Baritone
New York Choral Artists, Joseph Fluumerfelt, Director
The Dessoff Symphonic Choir, James Bagwell, Director
Brooklyn Youth Chorus, Dianne Berkun, Director
Choral preparation by Joseph Flummerfelt
I bought a ticket for myself via Goldstar.com at $45 (including service charge). Chung Shu & Shirley were planning to go also, so we planned to car pool together. Shirley wasn’t feeling well, so Chung Shu and I drove up together and we had one spare ticket to sell, which we did for $30. It was my ticket, and it took us a while to figure out to whom the money belongs.
I wasn’t quite sure what to expect. The program notes, which I read in advance, describe this as a pacifist statement by Britten, who was considered the greatest British composer since Purcell. Interesting, since some consider Vaughan Williams to be that greatest British composer, Britten must have dethroned him.
I certainly don’t think Purcell wrote anything nearly as complicated. This is a “traditional” Requiem mass combined with a poem written by Wilfred Owen, a soldier killed by a German sniper. As far as I could tell, the NY Choral Artists and Dessoff Symphonic Choir were combined into one large choir (about 300 people), and the Youth Chorus sang offstage. Some members of the NY Philharmonic constituted the chamber orchestra conducted by this 22- or 23-year old French conductor. All together there were about 400 to 450 performers.
The mass was sung in Latin, the poem in English. The full orchestra accompanied the Latin mass and the chamber orchestra accompanied the poem. Chung Shu observed that the soprano didn’t sing anything in English.
One could quibble why all this is necessary. Bach’s St. Matthew’s passion requires two orchestras and is conducted by a single conductor. While 300 plus singers is impressive, I am sure they could get by with one group. The way the chamber orchestra is situated (facing “backwards”) made it difficult for the two male soloists to see the conductor. Also, it was a challenge for the soloists (especially the soprano) to be heard above the chorus.
Given how complex the work is, some miscues are to be expected. This was particularly so at the beginning, but the performance improved as they got into it. And I am sure there are some passages that sound confusing and chaotic by design.
The Requiem part of the work is traditional enough. The six parts are Requiem aeternam, Dies irae, Offertorium, Sanctus, Agnus Dei, and Libera me. To me the most gruesome part of the poem was how Abraham continued to kill Isaac even though a ram was prepared in his place. Britten probably wanted to illustrate the absurdity of war by juxtaposing the texts. In my opinion, it doesn’t quite work. The two parts don’t contrast, they just feel incongruent. A mass deals with the afterlife and states whatever on this earth doesn’t matter to the dead, so the fact that people fight and kill on this earth isn’t quite relevant. Instead of being a pacifist statement, the work just comes across confused.
As a composition, the work is quite interesting. The requiem part sounds okay (although I like Faure’s better), and the war part is probably okay, although not overwhelming. The program annotator calls it “one of music’s towering monuments, a masterpiece of layered meaning”, a statement that is a bit too over the top for me. Most tellingly, I suspect few people, even pacifists, leave the concert thinking about the issue of war.
The New York Times review is quite brutal, calling the performance “a straightforward musical statement.” In defense of Maazel, the reviewer – obviously not a fan of Maazel - might be trying to find meaning where none was to be found.
Program
War Requieum, Op. 66 (1961-62) by Britten (1913-76).
Performers
Lionel Bringuier, Conductor, chamber orchestra
Nancy Gustafson, Soprano; Vale Rideout, Tenor; Ian Greenlaw, Baritone
New York Choral Artists, Joseph Fluumerfelt, Director
The Dessoff Symphonic Choir, James Bagwell, Director
Brooklyn Youth Chorus, Dianne Berkun, Director
Choral preparation by Joseph Flummerfelt
I bought a ticket for myself via Goldstar.com at $45 (including service charge). Chung Shu & Shirley were planning to go also, so we planned to car pool together. Shirley wasn’t feeling well, so Chung Shu and I drove up together and we had one spare ticket to sell, which we did for $30. It was my ticket, and it took us a while to figure out to whom the money belongs.
I wasn’t quite sure what to expect. The program notes, which I read in advance, describe this as a pacifist statement by Britten, who was considered the greatest British composer since Purcell. Interesting, since some consider Vaughan Williams to be that greatest British composer, Britten must have dethroned him.
I certainly don’t think Purcell wrote anything nearly as complicated. This is a “traditional” Requiem mass combined with a poem written by Wilfred Owen, a soldier killed by a German sniper. As far as I could tell, the NY Choral Artists and Dessoff Symphonic Choir were combined into one large choir (about 300 people), and the Youth Chorus sang offstage. Some members of the NY Philharmonic constituted the chamber orchestra conducted by this 22- or 23-year old French conductor. All together there were about 400 to 450 performers.
The mass was sung in Latin, the poem in English. The full orchestra accompanied the Latin mass and the chamber orchestra accompanied the poem. Chung Shu observed that the soprano didn’t sing anything in English.
One could quibble why all this is necessary. Bach’s St. Matthew’s passion requires two orchestras and is conducted by a single conductor. While 300 plus singers is impressive, I am sure they could get by with one group. The way the chamber orchestra is situated (facing “backwards”) made it difficult for the two male soloists to see the conductor. Also, it was a challenge for the soloists (especially the soprano) to be heard above the chorus.
Given how complex the work is, some miscues are to be expected. This was particularly so at the beginning, but the performance improved as they got into it. And I am sure there are some passages that sound confusing and chaotic by design.
The Requiem part of the work is traditional enough. The six parts are Requiem aeternam, Dies irae, Offertorium, Sanctus, Agnus Dei, and Libera me. To me the most gruesome part of the poem was how Abraham continued to kill Isaac even though a ram was prepared in his place. Britten probably wanted to illustrate the absurdity of war by juxtaposing the texts. In my opinion, it doesn’t quite work. The two parts don’t contrast, they just feel incongruent. A mass deals with the afterlife and states whatever on this earth doesn’t matter to the dead, so the fact that people fight and kill on this earth isn’t quite relevant. Instead of being a pacifist statement, the work just comes across confused.
As a composition, the work is quite interesting. The requiem part sounds okay (although I like Faure’s better), and the war part is probably okay, although not overwhelming. The program annotator calls it “one of music’s towering monuments, a masterpiece of layered meaning”, a statement that is a bit too over the top for me. Most tellingly, I suspect few people, even pacifists, leave the concert thinking about the issue of war.
The New York Times review is quite brutal, calling the performance “a straightforward musical statement.” In defense of Maazel, the reviewer – obviously not a fan of Maazel - might be trying to find meaning where none was to be found.
Friday, May 15, 2009
New York Philharmonic – David Zinman, conductor; Christian Tetzlaff, violin. May 14, 2009.
Avery Fisher Hall at Lincoln Center, Orchestra 4 Rear (Seat JJ11, $44).
Program
Night on Bald Mountain (1866-67; orch. by Rimsky-Korsakov 1886) by Mussorgsky (1839-81).
Violin Concerto No. 1 in A minor, Op. 99 (1947-48) by Shostakovich (1906-75).
Symphony No. 5 in E-flat major, Op. 82 (1912-19) by Sibelius (1865-1957)
We got tickets for this concert because it was to be conducted by Esa-Pekka Salonen. He was out with back problems and Zinman stepped in; they also changed the program. I am impressed that they could substitute with something as complicated as the Shostakovich piece on such short notice. It was last performed by this orchestra more than 2 years ago.
We decided to drive in. The tunnels were backed up, so we drove through Jersey City to reach Holland Tunnel, which was relatively easy. We also managed to park on 10th Ave, saving $30 or so in Lincoln Center parking fees. I talked to Chung Shu today and joked that we finally grew up and are now like Mr. Yang. Coming home was no problem either.
Our tickets were exchanged from another concert that we couldn't go to. Those were "best available seats" at $54 each; our downgraded seats were actually quite good, only complaint is they were a bit far from the stage. With a reasonable pair of binoculars, we were fine.
The original pieces that got substituted were by Lutoslawski and Szymanowski. I am sure I have as much trouble understanding their music as I would pronouncing their names. The gentleman sitting next to me was a bit disappointed, though. When we were chatting during a break, we discovered he also saw the concert where Vadim Repin broke his violin string and performed "the miraculous exchange".
The Mussorgsky piece is a "warhorse" and was pleasant to listen to. I was surprised at how fast it is played. The impressive thing was the orchestra was quite precise.
I hadn't heard Tetzlaff before, and the Shostakovich violin concerto was also new to me. The replacement program had several interesting observations on the piece, including the fact that it was dedicated to David Oistrakh, that Rostropovich despised Oistrakh (I wouldn't have expected that), and the obligatory remark that Shostakovich lived in difficult polititcal times. The soloist needed the music, which while a bit unexpected, was understandable since he wasn't planning on this piece.
What can I say about the performance? In a word, jaw-dropping. The first movement (Nocturne: Moderato) was straightforward enough, although a slow movement is a bit unusual for a first movement. The violin Tetzlaff uses (per Playbill) is modeled after a Guarneri del Gesu, made by the German violinmaker Peter Greiner. It projected better than most Guarnerius violins I have heard before, and had a good quality tone to it. I began to admire Tetzlaff as a virtuoso during the second movement (Scherzo: Allegro); many of the passages could be considered violent and we expected a string to snap at any time. While none did, (thanks to my binoculars) quite a few hairs on the bow did break. The third movement (Passacaglia: Andante) had such along introduction that I wondered whether the violin was going to have a part at all. The fourth movement (Burlesque: Allegro con brio - Presto) was the coup de grace. I couldn't find the right words to describe all the different difficult passages. Anne made the observation that Tetzlaff didn't even break a sweat, making the performance like a regular day at the office. He didn't move around much either. After the tremendous applause and several curtain calls, Tetzlaff played a slow piece with many double- and triple-stops.
After the violin concerto, Sibelius sounded staid, calm, and regular. It consists of three movements: (i) Tempo molto moderato - Allegro moderato; (ii) Andante mosso, quasi allegretto; and (iii) Allegro molto - Misterioso. Playbill quotes the composer saying this "... God opens His door for a moment ..." and "triumphal." And it was written in a major key. Still, the brightest of Sibelius is still a rather somber affair. It was relatively short at 35 minutes. However, it was "just another symphony" in my opinion. Perhaps I need to hear it more often. Embarrassingly, of the two tunes listed in the Playbill I managed to catch only the one by the horns.
On our way back, we heard the last movement of Saint-Saen's third violin concerto, followed by a piece by Martinu. Turns out it was a broadcast over WQXR of a concert we were at a couple of weeks ago. Only with proper sound engineering, the violin sounded loud and clear, and the piano part in Martinu appears so integral that Anne wonders why she had trouble hearing it live.
The concert we went to was the first of a series. I couldn't find any review of it yet.
Program
Night on Bald Mountain (1866-67; orch. by Rimsky-Korsakov 1886) by Mussorgsky (1839-81).
Violin Concerto No. 1 in A minor, Op. 99 (1947-48) by Shostakovich (1906-75).
Symphony No. 5 in E-flat major, Op. 82 (1912-19) by Sibelius (1865-1957)
We got tickets for this concert because it was to be conducted by Esa-Pekka Salonen. He was out with back problems and Zinman stepped in; they also changed the program. I am impressed that they could substitute with something as complicated as the Shostakovich piece on such short notice. It was last performed by this orchestra more than 2 years ago.
We decided to drive in. The tunnels were backed up, so we drove through Jersey City to reach Holland Tunnel, which was relatively easy. We also managed to park on 10th Ave, saving $30 or so in Lincoln Center parking fees. I talked to Chung Shu today and joked that we finally grew up and are now like Mr. Yang. Coming home was no problem either.
Our tickets were exchanged from another concert that we couldn't go to. Those were "best available seats" at $54 each; our downgraded seats were actually quite good, only complaint is they were a bit far from the stage. With a reasonable pair of binoculars, we were fine.
The original pieces that got substituted were by Lutoslawski and Szymanowski. I am sure I have as much trouble understanding their music as I would pronouncing their names. The gentleman sitting next to me was a bit disappointed, though. When we were chatting during a break, we discovered he also saw the concert where Vadim Repin broke his violin string and performed "the miraculous exchange".
The Mussorgsky piece is a "warhorse" and was pleasant to listen to. I was surprised at how fast it is played. The impressive thing was the orchestra was quite precise.
I hadn't heard Tetzlaff before, and the Shostakovich violin concerto was also new to me. The replacement program had several interesting observations on the piece, including the fact that it was dedicated to David Oistrakh, that Rostropovich despised Oistrakh (I wouldn't have expected that), and the obligatory remark that Shostakovich lived in difficult polititcal times. The soloist needed the music, which while a bit unexpected, was understandable since he wasn't planning on this piece.
What can I say about the performance? In a word, jaw-dropping. The first movement (Nocturne: Moderato) was straightforward enough, although a slow movement is a bit unusual for a first movement. The violin Tetzlaff uses (per Playbill) is modeled after a Guarneri del Gesu, made by the German violinmaker Peter Greiner. It projected better than most Guarnerius violins I have heard before, and had a good quality tone to it. I began to admire Tetzlaff as a virtuoso during the second movement (Scherzo: Allegro); many of the passages could be considered violent and we expected a string to snap at any time. While none did, (thanks to my binoculars) quite a few hairs on the bow did break. The third movement (Passacaglia: Andante) had such along introduction that I wondered whether the violin was going to have a part at all. The fourth movement (Burlesque: Allegro con brio - Presto) was the coup de grace. I couldn't find the right words to describe all the different difficult passages. Anne made the observation that Tetzlaff didn't even break a sweat, making the performance like a regular day at the office. He didn't move around much either. After the tremendous applause and several curtain calls, Tetzlaff played a slow piece with many double- and triple-stops.
After the violin concerto, Sibelius sounded staid, calm, and regular. It consists of three movements: (i) Tempo molto moderato - Allegro moderato; (ii) Andante mosso, quasi allegretto; and (iii) Allegro molto - Misterioso. Playbill quotes the composer saying this "... God opens His door for a moment ..." and "triumphal." And it was written in a major key. Still, the brightest of Sibelius is still a rather somber affair. It was relatively short at 35 minutes. However, it was "just another symphony" in my opinion. Perhaps I need to hear it more often. Embarrassingly, of the two tunes listed in the Playbill I managed to catch only the one by the horns.
On our way back, we heard the last movement of Saint-Saen's third violin concerto, followed by a piece by Martinu. Turns out it was a broadcast over WQXR of a concert we were at a couple of weeks ago. Only with proper sound engineering, the violin sounded loud and clear, and the piano part in Martinu appears so integral that Anne wonders why she had trouble hearing it live.
The concert we went to was the first of a series. I couldn't find any review of it yet.
Wednesday, May 06, 2009
New York Philharmonic – Alan Gilbert, Conductor; Joshua Bell, violin. May 5, 2009.
Avery Fisher Hall at Lincoln Center, Orchestra 4 Rear (Seat KK12, $52).
Program
Zlaty kolovrat (The Golden Spinning Wheel), Symphonic Poem, Op. 109 (1896) by Dvorak (1841-1904)
Violin Concerto No. 3 in B minor, Op. 61 (1880) by Saint-Saens (1835-1921)
Symphony No. 4, H. 305 (1945) by Martinu (1890-1959)
We decided to drive in, and took the Holland Tunnel because Lincoln was reported to be congested. It took only about 90 minutes for me to get Anne at Rahway and then get to Lincoln Center. And the return home was without any problem either.
Alan Gilbert, of course, is the conductor-designate of the New York Philharmonic. We have heard his name for a while by now, but tonight was to be our first time watching him conduct. Thus we went to this concert with a bit of anticipation.
Tonight's concert consisted of a violin concerto in the standard virtuoso repertoire and two little-played pieces by two Bohemian-born composers, one well-known. Indeed the pieces were each played only once before by the New York Philharmonic. The Dvorak piece in 1932, the Martinu piece in 1986.
The Golden Spinning Wheel is based on a grisly story (poem) written by Czech poet Erben: Dornicka's step-mother and step-sister kill her so the king can be deceived into marrying the step-sister. While the king goes to war, a mysterious old man gets the young queen to exchange the body parts she took and restores Dornicka to life. The golden spinning wheel the young queen gets, however, creeks out a song describing the crime. The step-sister and step-mother are thrown to the wolves and the king and her true wife are re-united. The Program Notes reassure the reader that the story is easy to follow; and one can indeed hear how the story unfolds. I find the piece a bit straight-forward and uninspiring. Even though there are interesting themes here and there, the overall lack of structure and dynamics make the piece an overall disappointment.
I know the violin concerto quite well, but Anne was uncharacteristically not very familiar with it. It is a virtuoso piece of the highest order. Bell acquitted himself very well, putting in an admirable performance. Surprisingly there were slight intonation problems every now and then, and some of the runs and arpeggios were a bit muddled. The second movement was taken at an uncharacteristically fast pace, but it worked quite well. The orchestra is always overshadowed by a piece like this, but to the extent one pays attention to it, one would find a great performance as well. We were seated at the rear of the orchestra section, so even the 1713 "Gibson ex Huberman" Stradivarius sometimes sounded weak. The three movements of the concerto are (i) Allegro non troppo; (ii) Andantino quasi allegretto; and (iii) Molto moderato e maestoso - Allegro non troppo. The program notes mention that Bell is now on the faculty of Univ of Indiana as a senior lecturer. One would think he would get a higher-ranked appointment than that, or does Indiana have extremely high standards?
I am quite sure I had never heard of Bohuslav Martinu before, although he was a very prolific composer. Tonight's symphony consists of four movements: (i) Poco moderato; (ii) Allegro vivo - Trio: Moderato - Allegro vivo; (iii) Largo; and (iv) Poco allegro. It was written just as World War II was won, and supposedly reflects the joy felt by the composer who fled Europe to the United States. I didn't quite know what to expect, but was surprised that it didn't sound as contemporary as one would expect of work composed in 1945. The structures of the movements were "classical" in the sense that one could hear themes, developments, etc. Viewed from that perspective, however, then there is no comparison with the popular masterpiece symphonies. I find the piece limited in its dynamic, chromatic, and emotional range.
Gilbert appears to be an energetic and precise conductor with his particular set of gestures. The orchestra seems to respond well, and tonight did an admirable job. However, the programming leaves quite a bit to be desired. I don't have a problem with seldom-heard pieces (even though oftentimes pieces are unpopular for good reasons), but I hope they are not included in a program for that reason alone.
The audience gave Gilbert an enthusiastic response. The New York Times review describes the performance using words and phrases like "engrossing", "radiant" and "so far, so good." For me, alas, the jury is still out.
Program
Zlaty kolovrat (The Golden Spinning Wheel), Symphonic Poem, Op. 109 (1896) by Dvorak (1841-1904)
Violin Concerto No. 3 in B minor, Op. 61 (1880) by Saint-Saens (1835-1921)
Symphony No. 4, H. 305 (1945) by Martinu (1890-1959)
We decided to drive in, and took the Holland Tunnel because Lincoln was reported to be congested. It took only about 90 minutes for me to get Anne at Rahway and then get to Lincoln Center. And the return home was without any problem either.
Alan Gilbert, of course, is the conductor-designate of the New York Philharmonic. We have heard his name for a while by now, but tonight was to be our first time watching him conduct. Thus we went to this concert with a bit of anticipation.
Tonight's concert consisted of a violin concerto in the standard virtuoso repertoire and two little-played pieces by two Bohemian-born composers, one well-known. Indeed the pieces were each played only once before by the New York Philharmonic. The Dvorak piece in 1932, the Martinu piece in 1986.
The Golden Spinning Wheel is based on a grisly story (poem) written by Czech poet Erben: Dornicka's step-mother and step-sister kill her so the king can be deceived into marrying the step-sister. While the king goes to war, a mysterious old man gets the young queen to exchange the body parts she took and restores Dornicka to life. The golden spinning wheel the young queen gets, however, creeks out a song describing the crime. The step-sister and step-mother are thrown to the wolves and the king and her true wife are re-united. The Program Notes reassure the reader that the story is easy to follow; and one can indeed hear how the story unfolds. I find the piece a bit straight-forward and uninspiring. Even though there are interesting themes here and there, the overall lack of structure and dynamics make the piece an overall disappointment.
I know the violin concerto quite well, but Anne was uncharacteristically not very familiar with it. It is a virtuoso piece of the highest order. Bell acquitted himself very well, putting in an admirable performance. Surprisingly there were slight intonation problems every now and then, and some of the runs and arpeggios were a bit muddled. The second movement was taken at an uncharacteristically fast pace, but it worked quite well. The orchestra is always overshadowed by a piece like this, but to the extent one pays attention to it, one would find a great performance as well. We were seated at the rear of the orchestra section, so even the 1713 "Gibson ex Huberman" Stradivarius sometimes sounded weak. The three movements of the concerto are (i) Allegro non troppo; (ii) Andantino quasi allegretto; and (iii) Molto moderato e maestoso - Allegro non troppo. The program notes mention that Bell is now on the faculty of Univ of Indiana as a senior lecturer. One would think he would get a higher-ranked appointment than that, or does Indiana have extremely high standards?
I am quite sure I had never heard of Bohuslav Martinu before, although he was a very prolific composer. Tonight's symphony consists of four movements: (i) Poco moderato; (ii) Allegro vivo - Trio: Moderato - Allegro vivo; (iii) Largo; and (iv) Poco allegro. It was written just as World War II was won, and supposedly reflects the joy felt by the composer who fled Europe to the United States. I didn't quite know what to expect, but was surprised that it didn't sound as contemporary as one would expect of work composed in 1945. The structures of the movements were "classical" in the sense that one could hear themes, developments, etc. Viewed from that perspective, however, then there is no comparison with the popular masterpiece symphonies. I find the piece limited in its dynamic, chromatic, and emotional range.
Gilbert appears to be an energetic and precise conductor with his particular set of gestures. The orchestra seems to respond well, and tonight did an admirable job. However, the programming leaves quite a bit to be desired. I don't have a problem with seldom-heard pieces (even though oftentimes pieces are unpopular for good reasons), but I hope they are not included in a program for that reason alone.
The audience gave Gilbert an enthusiastic response. The New York Times review describes the performance using words and phrases like "engrossing", "radiant" and "so far, so good." For me, alas, the jury is still out.
Monday, April 27, 2009
Metropolitan Opera – Verdi’s Il Travatore, April 25, 2009.
Metropolitan Opera at Lincoln Center – Dress Circle Seat E13 ($126.50).
Story. A gypsy woman bewitching the sons of a Count is captured and is to be burned at the stake. Her daughter Azucena, seeking revenge, steals one of the sons and intends to throw him onto the pyre. She kills her own son by mistake and ends up raising the stolen brother as her own son. The two brothers, Count Di Luna and Manrico, grow up and end up loving the same woman Leonora, who loves Manrico. By capturing Azucena, Di Luna traps Manrico and is going to have him executed. Leonora goes to Di Luna promising to marry him in exchange for Manrico’s freedom. She tells Manrico he is free, and dies in his arm from the poison she has taken. Di Luna has Manrico executed, and as Azucena is led to her death she yells she has finally avenged her mother.
Conductor – Riccardo Frizza; Leonora – Hasmik Papian, Count di Luna – Ziljko Lucic, Manrico – Marco Berti, Azucena – Dolora Zajick.
After a full day of Boating Safety class, Anne was a bit tired. I was worried it would end up being a very long day by the time we were done. We caught the 6:42 pm train to New York, it got delayed a bit, including a stop to make sure kids playing around the train tracks were accounted for; and the subway ride was slow because of construction on the tracks. We had only a few minutes to spare by the time we got to our seats. Good thing this performance had a start time of 8:30 pm (probably because they had a 6 hour Gotterdammerung for the Matinee). So dinner for us was a sandwich, a brownie, and a bar of chocolate during the intermission.
Probably the most well-known song from this opera is the “Anvil Song” which depicts gypsy life. It is an enjoyable tune where several very muscular men provide the anvil sounds with sledgehammers. Somewhat like the “Royal Procession Song” in Aida, the song is not all the germane to the story, but is nonetheless quite enjoyable. There are many other arias from Il Travatore that are very pleasant and well-known. They are not as melodious as what you hear in, say, La Traviata, but immensely enjoyable nonetheless. Verdi in his older years would rely on fewer detachable melodies for his operas, which to me is a bit of a pity.
The majority of the production team, soloists, and the conductor are all Europeans. (Even the Oregon-born Azucena has a East-European sounding name.) The production is co-produced with Chicago’s Lyric Opera and the San Francisco Opera. Does that mean the Met is running out of local talent? I certainly hope not. The singers are okay, great at times, but I won’t characterize the overall performance as brilliant. There was so much “shouting” that I wonder if the singers’ voices would not be harmed. Of the four major characters, Marinco’s was the most disappointing, the quality of his voice was not quite at the level one would expect of a Met singer. Leonora’s voice was okay but a bit weak at places. And I was sure she was out of tune several times, and had trouble with some of the high notes. Di Luna’s was a solid bass (baritone?), but not memorable. Azucena got the most applause from the audience, but in my opinion she was good only in comparison with the others. Of course the general level of singing is excellent, except the Met puts out so many great performances.
A few years ago Anne & I were on a long drive and we listened to the entire opera on CD with Anne reading off the English translation. I remember that was a rather enjoyable experience. As I said in the case of “The Damnation of Faust”, a performance with the acting is by far a much richer experience; the same difference holds here. The program notes also point to how Goya's paintings and etchings were used as inspiration for the uniforms and staging.
When analyzed carefully, the story is a bit far-fetched. However, for the opera works well both dramatically and musically. Many of the tunes are quite familiar, but I didn’t remember them as being in this opera. I think I need to hear it more.
The concert ended at about 11:15 pm, we took the 12:18 am train which got us home after 1 am. So for Anne it ended up being a very long day.
The New York Times reviewer saw a much earlier show which had a different conductor and (except for Azecuna) different principal singers.
Story. A gypsy woman bewitching the sons of a Count is captured and is to be burned at the stake. Her daughter Azucena, seeking revenge, steals one of the sons and intends to throw him onto the pyre. She kills her own son by mistake and ends up raising the stolen brother as her own son. The two brothers, Count Di Luna and Manrico, grow up and end up loving the same woman Leonora, who loves Manrico. By capturing Azucena, Di Luna traps Manrico and is going to have him executed. Leonora goes to Di Luna promising to marry him in exchange for Manrico’s freedom. She tells Manrico he is free, and dies in his arm from the poison she has taken. Di Luna has Manrico executed, and as Azucena is led to her death she yells she has finally avenged her mother.
Conductor – Riccardo Frizza; Leonora – Hasmik Papian, Count di Luna – Ziljko Lucic, Manrico – Marco Berti, Azucena – Dolora Zajick.
After a full day of Boating Safety class, Anne was a bit tired. I was worried it would end up being a very long day by the time we were done. We caught the 6:42 pm train to New York, it got delayed a bit, including a stop to make sure kids playing around the train tracks were accounted for; and the subway ride was slow because of construction on the tracks. We had only a few minutes to spare by the time we got to our seats. Good thing this performance had a start time of 8:30 pm (probably because they had a 6 hour Gotterdammerung for the Matinee). So dinner for us was a sandwich, a brownie, and a bar of chocolate during the intermission.
Probably the most well-known song from this opera is the “Anvil Song” which depicts gypsy life. It is an enjoyable tune where several very muscular men provide the anvil sounds with sledgehammers. Somewhat like the “Royal Procession Song” in Aida, the song is not all the germane to the story, but is nonetheless quite enjoyable. There are many other arias from Il Travatore that are very pleasant and well-known. They are not as melodious as what you hear in, say, La Traviata, but immensely enjoyable nonetheless. Verdi in his older years would rely on fewer detachable melodies for his operas, which to me is a bit of a pity.
The majority of the production team, soloists, and the conductor are all Europeans. (Even the Oregon-born Azucena has a East-European sounding name.) The production is co-produced with Chicago’s Lyric Opera and the San Francisco Opera. Does that mean the Met is running out of local talent? I certainly hope not. The singers are okay, great at times, but I won’t characterize the overall performance as brilliant. There was so much “shouting” that I wonder if the singers’ voices would not be harmed. Of the four major characters, Marinco’s was the most disappointing, the quality of his voice was not quite at the level one would expect of a Met singer. Leonora’s voice was okay but a bit weak at places. And I was sure she was out of tune several times, and had trouble with some of the high notes. Di Luna’s was a solid bass (baritone?), but not memorable. Azucena got the most applause from the audience, but in my opinion she was good only in comparison with the others. Of course the general level of singing is excellent, except the Met puts out so many great performances.
A few years ago Anne & I were on a long drive and we listened to the entire opera on CD with Anne reading off the English translation. I remember that was a rather enjoyable experience. As I said in the case of “The Damnation of Faust”, a performance with the acting is by far a much richer experience; the same difference holds here. The program notes also point to how Goya's paintings and etchings were used as inspiration for the uniforms and staging.
When analyzed carefully, the story is a bit far-fetched. However, for the opera works well both dramatically and musically. Many of the tunes are quite familiar, but I didn’t remember them as being in this opera. I think I need to hear it more.
The concert ended at about 11:15 pm, we took the 12:18 am train which got us home after 1 am. So for Anne it ended up being a very long day.
The New York Times reviewer saw a much earlier show which had a different conductor and (except for Azecuna) different principal singers.
Saturday, April 25, 2009
The National Chorale & Orchestra – Martin Josman, Music Director. April 24, 2009.
Avery Fisher Hall at Lincoln Center, Third Tier Left (Seat BB108, $53).
Program
At the River (1954) by Aaron Copland, arr. By R. Wilding White
Las Agachadas (1942) by Copland
Psalm 121 (1953) by Henry Cowel.
Trois Chansons (1916) by Maurice Ravel
Closing Hymn: Israfel from Songfest (1977) by Leonard Bernstein
Carmina Burana (1935) by Carl Orff
Chung Shu, Shirley & I drove up again. We wanted to go through Jersey City so it would have a chance to redeem its reputation - our having suffered horrendous delays on our last trip. Traffic on a nice late Friday afternoon was bad, but we made it in about 90 minutes, and managed to find (free) off-street parking close to Lincoln Center. We met up with Anne at Ollie's and had a quick dinner.
Many people know the tune “O Fortuna”. It is used a lot in advertisements and as introduction to many classical radio broadcasts. The song has a haunting quality to it, and it is because of our interest to hear it live that we got tickets for this concert.
Given that the work consists of 24 poems from medieval times, we expected it would be the entire concert. We were a bit surprised that it was to be preceded by a first half of five different works. Instead of suffering through them, I found I enjoyed them. As I said in an earlier blog, the National Chorale suffers from lack of projected (or printed, for that matter) words, so I had to go with just the titles of the works. This task was made a bit more difficult since the songs were not performed in the order listed in the program! Some singers in the Chorale sang the solo parts, and they were quite good. The Chorale as a whole still needs some work, especially in being together.
Per the program notes, there are two versions of Carmina Burana, one with a full orchestra and a large choir, the other with two pianos, timpani, and various percussion instruments. We were hoping for the large orchestra version but didn’t get it. I have to say the small ensemble worked quite well with the 46-person chorale (and three soloist), though.
The conductor Martin Josman was much more energetic than what I remember from the last two performances. The invited soloists were however not all that good. Perhaps partially due to the falsetto parts written for the male soloists – not exactly my cup of tea. There is a bit of “acting” involved - walking, holding hands, embracing – but not quite a story. Given the premise of a priest, a young man, and a young woman, one could easily spin a story together, even it might not have been the composer’s original intention. Just to illustrate, the five parts are (i) Fortune, Empress of the World, (ii) In Springtime, (iii) In the tavern, (iv) the court of love, and (v) untitled, but consists of songs like “Should I choose love or chastity?”.
Orff considered this work his real first composition and had all his prior work destroyed. It is ironic that most people know only this work of his.
The entire concert was a bit long, ending at about 10:10 pm. Because of where we parked, we made it home in good time.
I wouldn’t have guessed I would end up enjoying a bunch of songs from the 20th century (1916 to 1977); let’s be frank, from any century, since I am not a song person. I ended up enjoying the evening, perhaps the show exceeded my modest expectations.
Program
At the River (1954) by Aaron Copland, arr. By R. Wilding White
Las Agachadas (1942) by Copland
Psalm 121 (1953) by Henry Cowel.
Trois Chansons (1916) by Maurice Ravel
Closing Hymn: Israfel from Songfest (1977) by Leonard Bernstein
Carmina Burana (1935) by Carl Orff
Chung Shu, Shirley & I drove up again. We wanted to go through Jersey City so it would have a chance to redeem its reputation - our having suffered horrendous delays on our last trip. Traffic on a nice late Friday afternoon was bad, but we made it in about 90 minutes, and managed to find (free) off-street parking close to Lincoln Center. We met up with Anne at Ollie's and had a quick dinner.
Many people know the tune “O Fortuna”. It is used a lot in advertisements and as introduction to many classical radio broadcasts. The song has a haunting quality to it, and it is because of our interest to hear it live that we got tickets for this concert.
Given that the work consists of 24 poems from medieval times, we expected it would be the entire concert. We were a bit surprised that it was to be preceded by a first half of five different works. Instead of suffering through them, I found I enjoyed them. As I said in an earlier blog, the National Chorale suffers from lack of projected (or printed, for that matter) words, so I had to go with just the titles of the works. This task was made a bit more difficult since the songs were not performed in the order listed in the program! Some singers in the Chorale sang the solo parts, and they were quite good. The Chorale as a whole still needs some work, especially in being together.
Per the program notes, there are two versions of Carmina Burana, one with a full orchestra and a large choir, the other with two pianos, timpani, and various percussion instruments. We were hoping for the large orchestra version but didn’t get it. I have to say the small ensemble worked quite well with the 46-person chorale (and three soloist), though.
The conductor Martin Josman was much more energetic than what I remember from the last two performances. The invited soloists were however not all that good. Perhaps partially due to the falsetto parts written for the male soloists – not exactly my cup of tea. There is a bit of “acting” involved - walking, holding hands, embracing – but not quite a story. Given the premise of a priest, a young man, and a young woman, one could easily spin a story together, even it might not have been the composer’s original intention. Just to illustrate, the five parts are (i) Fortune, Empress of the World, (ii) In Springtime, (iii) In the tavern, (iv) the court of love, and (v) untitled, but consists of songs like “Should I choose love or chastity?”.
Orff considered this work his real first composition and had all his prior work destroyed. It is ironic that most people know only this work of his.
The entire concert was a bit long, ending at about 10:10 pm. Because of where we parked, we made it home in good time.
I wouldn’t have guessed I would end up enjoying a bunch of songs from the 20th century (1916 to 1977); let’s be frank, from any century, since I am not a song person. I ended up enjoying the evening, perhaps the show exceeded my modest expectations.
Tuesday, April 21, 2009
New York Philharmonic – Riccardo Muti, Conductor; Mitsuko Uchida, Piano. April 18, 2009.
Avery Fisher Hall at Lincoln Center, Orchestra 1 (Seat Y8, $54).
Program
Piano Concerto in G major (1929-31) by Ravel (1875-1937)
Symphony in C manor, D. 944, Great (1825-26) by Schubert (1797-1828)
The traffic reports said all the Hudson crossings were experiencing substantial delays. But we all supported the decision that we could probably made it in good time going through Jersey City. That turned out to be a mistake as we were stuck in traffic for at least 90 minutes; it took forever to make the left turn onto Marin from Columbus. Good thing I wasn't driving; I would have either gotten mad or very frustrated. We naturally missed the Ravel piece played by Uchida. It was a good thing we all went to the parking garage together; we barely made the second half, the Ravel piece being quite short at (an advertised) 21 minutes.
The Schubert “Great” Symphony is quite long at about 50 minutes. The program notes was mostly used to explain why this Symphony was really the seventh by Schumann. It is amazing that this is catalogued as D. 944, given the short life (31 years) of the composer.
Riccardo Muti was the guest conductor. I have seen him a few times before, and tonight he was quite a bit more animated than his “usual.” He would crouch down very low and slowly raise himself, perhaps not the most demanding physically, but still impressive for a 68 year old person.
I am not familiar with the Symphony (only Schubert one I know well is the “Unfinished"). This one is quite enjoyable. A bit long at 50 minutes, and there were several themes that were used quite extensively. The four movements of the Symphony are (i) Andante – Allegro ma non troppo; (ii) Andante con moto; (iii) Scherzo. Allegro vivace – Trio; and (iv) Finale. Allegro vivace. The program notes does point out a motif that is quite close to the very well-known one in Beethoven’s Choral Symphony. This is used quite extensively in the fourth movement. I find the concept of such borrowing fascinating.
Afterwards, Chung Shu, Shirley, and we went to Sushi A-Go-Go to have a simple dinner before we headed home. Traffic was still on the heavy side but there were no congestions. We got home at about midnight.
The New York Times reviewer thought very highly of the Uchida performance. He calls the Symphony Schumann's Ninth, perhaps to make a point? In any case, too bad we missed the first part, and our seats were great this time.
Program
Piano Concerto in G major (1929-31) by Ravel (1875-1937)
Symphony in C manor, D. 944, Great (1825-26) by Schubert (1797-1828)
The traffic reports said all the Hudson crossings were experiencing substantial delays. But we all supported the decision that we could probably made it in good time going through Jersey City. That turned out to be a mistake as we were stuck in traffic for at least 90 minutes; it took forever to make the left turn onto Marin from Columbus. Good thing I wasn't driving; I would have either gotten mad or very frustrated. We naturally missed the Ravel piece played by Uchida. It was a good thing we all went to the parking garage together; we barely made the second half, the Ravel piece being quite short at (an advertised) 21 minutes.
The Schubert “Great” Symphony is quite long at about 50 minutes. The program notes was mostly used to explain why this Symphony was really the seventh by Schumann. It is amazing that this is catalogued as D. 944, given the short life (31 years) of the composer.
Riccardo Muti was the guest conductor. I have seen him a few times before, and tonight he was quite a bit more animated than his “usual.” He would crouch down very low and slowly raise himself, perhaps not the most demanding physically, but still impressive for a 68 year old person.
I am not familiar with the Symphony (only Schubert one I know well is the “Unfinished"). This one is quite enjoyable. A bit long at 50 minutes, and there were several themes that were used quite extensively. The four movements of the Symphony are (i) Andante – Allegro ma non troppo; (ii) Andante con moto; (iii) Scherzo. Allegro vivace – Trio; and (iv) Finale. Allegro vivace. The program notes does point out a motif that is quite close to the very well-known one in Beethoven’s Choral Symphony. This is used quite extensively in the fourth movement. I find the concept of such borrowing fascinating.
Afterwards, Chung Shu, Shirley, and we went to Sushi A-Go-Go to have a simple dinner before we headed home. Traffic was still on the heavy side but there were no congestions. We got home at about midnight.
The New York Times reviewer thought very highly of the Uchida performance. He calls the Symphony Schumann's Ninth, perhaps to make a point? In any case, too bad we missed the first part, and our seats were great this time.
Sunday, April 05, 2009
New York Philharmonic - Charles Dutoit, conductor; Lisa Batiashvili, violin. April 4, 2009.
Avery Fisher Hall at Lincoln Center, Orchestra 4 Rear (Seat RR111, $67).
Program
Concerto in E-flat for Chamber Orchestra, Dumbarton Oaks (1937-38) by Stravinsky (1882-1971).
Violin Concerto No. 2 in G minor, Op. 63 (1935) by Prokofiev (1891-1953).
Symphony No. 5 in E minor, Op. 64 (1888) by Tchaikovsky (1840-93).
We got tickets to this concert in exchange for one we booked but couldn’t go. I didn’t have high expectations of neither Dutoit nor Batisahvili. I have seen both before (Dutoit quite a few times) and haven’t come away very impressed. Tonight was an exception.
We had heard the Stravinsky work (Dumbarton Oaks) before in 2006; it was conducted by David Robertson. I reread my writeup on the performance; most of what I wrote still holds today. I seem to enjoy tonight’s concert a bit more, though. Dutoit has this habit of swinging slightly to the beat, which I find annoying. But it seems to work with the small ensemble.
I have known Prokofiev’s second violin concerto since I was a teenager. My violin teacher played that as part of his examination to qualify at the “performer” level at the Trinity College of Music in London. This was in the 1970s, and one can imagine how avant garde the piece sounded then. But I got to know it and enjoy it. My view of Batisahvili changed after I heard she play the simple introduction. First, the violin sounded very well, even though we sat at the rear of the orchestra (second to last row). Indeed it is a Stradivarius (the 1709 "Engleman") on loan to her. She played the piece beautifully for the most part, although there were some passages where the (full) orchestra was a bit overwhelming. This second concerto sounded much more grounded than the first Prokofiev concerto, which we heard Midori play a few years back. The three movements are: Allegro moderato; Andante assai – Allegretto – Tempo I; and Allegro ben marcato.
I do have several of Tchaikovsky’s symphonies on my iPod, including this one, but I have to say – except for the second movement – I am not that familiar with the piece. The program notes contains a description of the theme described as “fate trying to get out” (whatever that means) that is reused in all the movement, often in different modes, and sometimes a bit contrived. (Who am I to criticize Tchaikovsky?) This is a rather long symphony at 45 minutes, but is most enjoyable. It is interesting (per program notes) that Tchaikovsky had doubts about the piece after conducting the first few performances of the new work, and that he wasn’t considered a very skilled conductor. It is a bit sentimental, but that is Russian music for you, in my opinion. The four movements are: (i) Andante – Allegro con anima; (ii) Andante cantabile, con alcuna licenza; (iii) Valse: Allegro moderato; and (iv) Finale: Andante maestoso – Allegro vivace – Moderato assai e molto maestoso.
There were quite a few young people in the attendance, the concert was close to being sold out. All in all it was very enjoyable.
The New York Times reviewer liked the Prokofiev and Tchaikovsky pieces, but didn't particularly care for Stravinsky.
Program
Concerto in E-flat for Chamber Orchestra, Dumbarton Oaks (1937-38) by Stravinsky (1882-1971).
Violin Concerto No. 2 in G minor, Op. 63 (1935) by Prokofiev (1891-1953).
Symphony No. 5 in E minor, Op. 64 (1888) by Tchaikovsky (1840-93).
We got tickets to this concert in exchange for one we booked but couldn’t go. I didn’t have high expectations of neither Dutoit nor Batisahvili. I have seen both before (Dutoit quite a few times) and haven’t come away very impressed. Tonight was an exception.
We had heard the Stravinsky work (Dumbarton Oaks) before in 2006; it was conducted by David Robertson. I reread my writeup on the performance; most of what I wrote still holds today. I seem to enjoy tonight’s concert a bit more, though. Dutoit has this habit of swinging slightly to the beat, which I find annoying. But it seems to work with the small ensemble.
I have known Prokofiev’s second violin concerto since I was a teenager. My violin teacher played that as part of his examination to qualify at the “performer” level at the Trinity College of Music in London. This was in the 1970s, and one can imagine how avant garde the piece sounded then. But I got to know it and enjoy it. My view of Batisahvili changed after I heard she play the simple introduction. First, the violin sounded very well, even though we sat at the rear of the orchestra (second to last row). Indeed it is a Stradivarius (the 1709 "Engleman") on loan to her. She played the piece beautifully for the most part, although there were some passages where the (full) orchestra was a bit overwhelming. This second concerto sounded much more grounded than the first Prokofiev concerto, which we heard Midori play a few years back. The three movements are: Allegro moderato; Andante assai – Allegretto – Tempo I; and Allegro ben marcato.
I do have several of Tchaikovsky’s symphonies on my iPod, including this one, but I have to say – except for the second movement – I am not that familiar with the piece. The program notes contains a description of the theme described as “fate trying to get out” (whatever that means) that is reused in all the movement, often in different modes, and sometimes a bit contrived. (Who am I to criticize Tchaikovsky?) This is a rather long symphony at 45 minutes, but is most enjoyable. It is interesting (per program notes) that Tchaikovsky had doubts about the piece after conducting the first few performances of the new work, and that he wasn’t considered a very skilled conductor. It is a bit sentimental, but that is Russian music for you, in my opinion. The four movements are: (i) Andante – Allegro con anima; (ii) Andante cantabile, con alcuna licenza; (iii) Valse: Allegro moderato; and (iv) Finale: Andante maestoso – Allegro vivace – Moderato assai e molto maestoso.
There were quite a few young people in the attendance, the concert was close to being sold out. All in all it was very enjoyable.
The New York Times reviewer liked the Prokofiev and Tchaikovsky pieces, but didn't particularly care for Stravinsky.
Saturday, March 14, 2009
Metropolitan Opera - Dvorak's Rusalka, March 14, 2009.
Metropolitan Opera at Lincoln Center - Dress Circle Seat D106 ($126.50).
Story. The water nymph Rusalka falls in love with a human prince, and asks the witch Yezhibaba to change her into a human being so they can be together. The witch agrees but warns her that she will be mute and her lover will die if he falls in love with another person. Although the prince and Rusalka do fall in love, the prince eventually marries a princess who has been pursuing him. The prince wants to go back to Rusalka, they kiss and the prince dies. Rusalka sinks back into the deep waters.
Conductor - Jiri Belohlavek; Water Gnome - Kristinn Sigmundsson, Rusulka - Renee Fleming, Jezibaba - Stephanie Blythe, The Prince - Aleksandrs Antonenko; The Foreign Princess - Christine Goerke.
One of the lesser known facts about Dvorak is that he was as prolific a composer of operas as he is of symphonies: he wrote 9 each during his lifetime. Since operas are usually much longer than symphonies (2 hours versus 45 minutes), he probably spent more time doing the former. Until today I had not seen any of his operas. Rusalka supposedly is one of the more famous ones and is considered a national treasure in the Czech Republic (I wonder how Slovakia feels about it.)
With a conductor born in Prague, and Renee Fleming singing the lead role, this should turn out to be a great opera to watch. However, I was a bit disappointed.
Our seats were reasonable: dress circle, just about the center. The staging was nice and appropriate. Whatever they did to make the “lake” made it look quite real, at least from where we were seated. My only real complaint would be that the lighting was too dim for those of us without the keenest of eyesights. The music was pleasant. The program notes devote several pages to describe how the simpler melodies are mixed in with more complicated passages to paint the different characters and scenes. Probably true, but it is not obvious upon the first hearing. Surprisingly, I have faint knowledge of only one melody (orchestra), the “famous” “Song to the Moon” was completely new to me. Dvorak usually incorporates some folksy tunes in his work, as I type this (inn a plane to Hong Kong) I don't remember any tune that is particularly memorable, though.
Renee Fleming's performance was not as great as I expected. This must be the fourth opera I saw in recent years where she played the lead role (Violetta in La Traviata, Desdemona in Otello, and Thais) and I was impressed with my previous encounters. Today, however, her voice didn't carry as well and sounded surprisingly weak. There were impressive episodes now and then, but the overall performance seemed spotty. Indeed the witch, played by Stephanie Blythe, did much better in my opinion.
The story was a bit too “childish” and too straightforward. It reminds me of one of Andersen's Fables (indeed the Little Mermaid is quite similar, I am told). The only twist is that prince dies when he abandons Rusalka. Usually it is the heroine that dies, although in this case her ultimate fate is not resolved.
The orchestra played well, with crisp lines. The harpist was quite busy describing the shimmering water. The animals at the witch's brewing scene elicited a few laughs from the audience.
That the opera is in Czech adds a degree of exoticism to it. However, with subtitles it could be in Italian, French, or even English! I did learn the word “Yeda” means “alas”, though.
All said, however, this is not a bad opera to see. Except my expectations were very high. I postponed my trip to Hong Kong so I wouldn't miss this episode, after all.
I have not been able to locate a review of the current performance. A New York Times review of a 2004 performance gave high marks to Renee Fleming. The reviewer thought she did well even during the time she was mute and didn't sing.
[Note added 4/6/09] I managed to find the New York Times review of the current performance. The reviewer thought highly of the performance, but was non-plused as to why the audience wasn't more enthusiastic. A case of the masses must be properly educated?
Story. The water nymph Rusalka falls in love with a human prince, and asks the witch Yezhibaba to change her into a human being so they can be together. The witch agrees but warns her that she will be mute and her lover will die if he falls in love with another person. Although the prince and Rusalka do fall in love, the prince eventually marries a princess who has been pursuing him. The prince wants to go back to Rusalka, they kiss and the prince dies. Rusalka sinks back into the deep waters.
Conductor - Jiri Belohlavek; Water Gnome - Kristinn Sigmundsson, Rusulka - Renee Fleming, Jezibaba - Stephanie Blythe, The Prince - Aleksandrs Antonenko; The Foreign Princess - Christine Goerke.
One of the lesser known facts about Dvorak is that he was as prolific a composer of operas as he is of symphonies: he wrote 9 each during his lifetime. Since operas are usually much longer than symphonies (2 hours versus 45 minutes), he probably spent more time doing the former. Until today I had not seen any of his operas. Rusalka supposedly is one of the more famous ones and is considered a national treasure in the Czech Republic (I wonder how Slovakia feels about it.)
With a conductor born in Prague, and Renee Fleming singing the lead role, this should turn out to be a great opera to watch. However, I was a bit disappointed.
Our seats were reasonable: dress circle, just about the center. The staging was nice and appropriate. Whatever they did to make the “lake” made it look quite real, at least from where we were seated. My only real complaint would be that the lighting was too dim for those of us without the keenest of eyesights. The music was pleasant. The program notes devote several pages to describe how the simpler melodies are mixed in with more complicated passages to paint the different characters and scenes. Probably true, but it is not obvious upon the first hearing. Surprisingly, I have faint knowledge of only one melody (orchestra), the “famous” “Song to the Moon” was completely new to me. Dvorak usually incorporates some folksy tunes in his work, as I type this (inn a plane to Hong Kong) I don't remember any tune that is particularly memorable, though.
Renee Fleming's performance was not as great as I expected. This must be the fourth opera I saw in recent years where she played the lead role (Violetta in La Traviata, Desdemona in Otello, and Thais) and I was impressed with my previous encounters. Today, however, her voice didn't carry as well and sounded surprisingly weak. There were impressive episodes now and then, but the overall performance seemed spotty. Indeed the witch, played by Stephanie Blythe, did much better in my opinion.
The story was a bit too “childish” and too straightforward. It reminds me of one of Andersen's Fables (indeed the Little Mermaid is quite similar, I am told). The only twist is that prince dies when he abandons Rusalka. Usually it is the heroine that dies, although in this case her ultimate fate is not resolved.
The orchestra played well, with crisp lines. The harpist was quite busy describing the shimmering water. The animals at the witch's brewing scene elicited a few laughs from the audience.
That the opera is in Czech adds a degree of exoticism to it. However, with subtitles it could be in Italian, French, or even English! I did learn the word “Yeda” means “alas”, though.
All said, however, this is not a bad opera to see. Except my expectations were very high. I postponed my trip to Hong Kong so I wouldn't miss this episode, after all.
I have not been able to locate a review of the current performance. A New York Times review of a 2004 performance gave high marks to Renee Fleming. The reviewer thought she did well even during the time she was mute and didn't sing.
[Note added 4/6/09] I managed to find the New York Times review of the current performance. The reviewer thought highly of the performance, but was non-plused as to why the audience wasn't more enthusiastic. A case of the masses must be properly educated?
Monday, February 09, 2009
New York Philharmonic – Kurt Mazur, conductor; Anne-Sophie Mutter; Vocal Soloists; Westminster Symphonic Choir. February 7, 2009.
Avery Fisher Hall at Lincoln Center, First Tier Center (Seat CC16, $59)
All-Mendelssohn (1809-47) Program
Overture to Ruy Blas, Op. 95 (1839).
Concerto in E minor for Violin and Orchestra, Op. 64 (1844).
Die erste Walpurgisnacht (The First Walpurgis Night), Op. 60 (1830-32, rev. 1844)
First, the specifics. I couldn't put all the soloists' names in the title, so for completeness: Christine Knorren, mezzo-soprano; Jorma Silvasti, tenor; Albert Dohmen, bass-baritone; Thorsten Grumbel, bass; Westminster Symphonic Choir, Joe Miller, director. With regard to the music, the violin concerto consists of three movements played without pause: Allegro molto appassionato; Andante; Allegretto ma non troppo – Allegro molto vivace. The choral piece has many parts:
Overture: Bad Weather (Allegro con fuoco)
The Transition to Spring (Allegro vivace non troppo)
1. Allegro vivace non troppo; Allegro assai vivace (tenor and chorus)
2. Allegretto non troppo (mezzo-soprano and chorus)
3. Andante maestoso (bass-baritone and chorus)
4. Allegro leggier (chorus)
5. Recitative: Allegro moderato (bass and chorus)
6. Allegro molto (chorus)
7. L’istesso tempo – Andante maestoso (bass-baritone and chorus)
8. Allegro non troppo (tenor and chorus)
9. Andante maestoso (bass-baritone and chorus)
We went to the concert together with the Yangs. We first stopped by Jersey City and had noodles at a Vietnamese restaurant: pretty inexpensive fare which Anne found quite enjoyable.
I didn’t realize Mendelssohn was considered a genius on par with Mozart, and that he died at an early age of 37 or so. Equally tragic was that his sister Fanny died while conducting a rehearsal of the “Night” piece played at tonight’s concert.
Mendelssohn, by choice, wrote classical music in the tradition of the masters, and his music is thus quite easy to understand and appreciate (as opposed to, say, Berlioz). Tonight’s selection is no exception. The overture is to a story by Goethe that is rather bleak, although I honestly wouldn’t be able to tell by listening to it. The orchestra was not at its full strength (actually for the entire program tonight), perhaps some people left early to get a head start on their tour next week?
I was surprised at how weak Mutter’s violin sounded. It was as if the instrument was muted. Which is a pity, as Mutter played the piece quite well. She did have some unusual tempos for some passages, which I though was not necessary: there being no need to find new interpretations for the piece. Per Wikipedia, she owns 2 Stradivarius violins, I wonder if she used one of those for tonight?
It is a bit disappointing that the “Night” piece was chosen as the last piece for the evening. I am sure one could have picked a more fulfilling Mendelssohn piece. That it isn’t that popular is attested by the fact that the last time it was played at NY Philharmonic was in 1997, also conducted by Mazur. Nevertheless, it was a reasonable enjoyable piece of music, with lyrics based on another Goethe work. The choir, from Rider College in Princeton, was 120-member strong, and they sang quite well.
Mazur, in his early 80s, looked quite well, except for the shaking in his hands, which we also noticed at the last concert of his we saw.
Overall, an enjoyable concert. I couldn't find a published review of the concert.
All-Mendelssohn (1809-47) Program
Overture to Ruy Blas, Op. 95 (1839).
Concerto in E minor for Violin and Orchestra, Op. 64 (1844).
Die erste Walpurgisnacht (The First Walpurgis Night), Op. 60 (1830-32, rev. 1844)
First, the specifics. I couldn't put all the soloists' names in the title, so for completeness: Christine Knorren, mezzo-soprano; Jorma Silvasti, tenor; Albert Dohmen, bass-baritone; Thorsten Grumbel, bass; Westminster Symphonic Choir, Joe Miller, director. With regard to the music, the violin concerto consists of three movements played without pause: Allegro molto appassionato; Andante; Allegretto ma non troppo – Allegro molto vivace. The choral piece has many parts:
Overture: Bad Weather (Allegro con fuoco)
The Transition to Spring (Allegro vivace non troppo)
1. Allegro vivace non troppo; Allegro assai vivace (tenor and chorus)
2. Allegretto non troppo (mezzo-soprano and chorus)
3. Andante maestoso (bass-baritone and chorus)
4. Allegro leggier (chorus)
5. Recitative: Allegro moderato (bass and chorus)
6. Allegro molto (chorus)
7. L’istesso tempo – Andante maestoso (bass-baritone and chorus)
8. Allegro non troppo (tenor and chorus)
9. Andante maestoso (bass-baritone and chorus)
We went to the concert together with the Yangs. We first stopped by Jersey City and had noodles at a Vietnamese restaurant: pretty inexpensive fare which Anne found quite enjoyable.
I didn’t realize Mendelssohn was considered a genius on par with Mozart, and that he died at an early age of 37 or so. Equally tragic was that his sister Fanny died while conducting a rehearsal of the “Night” piece played at tonight’s concert.
Mendelssohn, by choice, wrote classical music in the tradition of the masters, and his music is thus quite easy to understand and appreciate (as opposed to, say, Berlioz). Tonight’s selection is no exception. The overture is to a story by Goethe that is rather bleak, although I honestly wouldn’t be able to tell by listening to it. The orchestra was not at its full strength (actually for the entire program tonight), perhaps some people left early to get a head start on their tour next week?
I was surprised at how weak Mutter’s violin sounded. It was as if the instrument was muted. Which is a pity, as Mutter played the piece quite well. She did have some unusual tempos for some passages, which I though was not necessary: there being no need to find new interpretations for the piece. Per Wikipedia, she owns 2 Stradivarius violins, I wonder if she used one of those for tonight?
It is a bit disappointing that the “Night” piece was chosen as the last piece for the evening. I am sure one could have picked a more fulfilling Mendelssohn piece. That it isn’t that popular is attested by the fact that the last time it was played at NY Philharmonic was in 1997, also conducted by Mazur. Nevertheless, it was a reasonable enjoyable piece of music, with lyrics based on another Goethe work. The choir, from Rider College in Princeton, was 120-member strong, and they sang quite well.
Mazur, in his early 80s, looked quite well, except for the shaking in his hands, which we also noticed at the last concert of his we saw.
Overall, an enjoyable concert. I couldn't find a published review of the concert.
Wednesday, February 04, 2009
Opera Australia – Mozart's The Magic Flute. January 30, 2009.
Opera Theatre, Sydney Opera House. Seat Circle J22 (AUD 140).
Ollivir-Philippe Cuneo – Conductor; Tamino – Andrew Goodwin, Papageno – Warwick Fyfe, Queen of the Night – Emma Pearson, Pamina – Emma Matthews (ill), Monostatos – Kanen Breen, Sarastro – Daniel Sumegi.
Story. See previous blog.
Anne, Tim, Ruth, Alyson and I saw this opera together. All in all, it was a good experience. It is difficult not to compare the performance with the Met, but I thought Opera Australia acquitted itself quite well this time.
I have always found Mozart's comic operas to be just so-so. The Magic Flute is helped by the nice tunes and fancy staging. The Opera House is smaller than the Met, so the experience felt a bit more intimate.
While the staging was not as rapid-fire as the Met's, it had its attractive qualities. The changes from scene to scene were more subtle, so before you realize it the scenary has moved from a forest to a palace. There were lots of acrobats (“Legs on the Wall” per the program leaflet) hanging around, which to me was a bit puzzling. The designers (stage and costume) aren't as obsessed with the number “three” as the Met's, so we were not flooded with that reference. They did pay homage to the free masons by having their logo projected on the screen at times.
The most memorable songs are sung by the Queen of the Night. She has an important aria in each of the two Acts. The one in the second act calls for a high F, which Pearson couldn't quite reach. Otherwise she did a commendable job.
The “regular” Pamina was ill, so a substitute (Quan, I think) filled in for her. She did an admirable job.
The opera was written in German. In this production the songs were sung in German, and the dialog was in English. With their Australian accent (and Chinese in the case of Pamina), the actors were at times difficult to understand. Too bad they didn't provide English subtitles for the dialog.
I am glad I didn't dish out $15 for the program. Fool me twice, shame on me.
The Sydney Morning Herald gave the performance a mixed review.
Ollivir-Philippe Cuneo – Conductor; Tamino – Andrew Goodwin, Papageno – Warwick Fyfe, Queen of the Night – Emma Pearson, Pamina – Emma Matthews (ill), Monostatos – Kanen Breen, Sarastro – Daniel Sumegi.
Story. See previous blog.
Anne, Tim, Ruth, Alyson and I saw this opera together. All in all, it was a good experience. It is difficult not to compare the performance with the Met, but I thought Opera Australia acquitted itself quite well this time.
I have always found Mozart's comic operas to be just so-so. The Magic Flute is helped by the nice tunes and fancy staging. The Opera House is smaller than the Met, so the experience felt a bit more intimate.
While the staging was not as rapid-fire as the Met's, it had its attractive qualities. The changes from scene to scene were more subtle, so before you realize it the scenary has moved from a forest to a palace. There were lots of acrobats (“Legs on the Wall” per the program leaflet) hanging around, which to me was a bit puzzling. The designers (stage and costume) aren't as obsessed with the number “three” as the Met's, so we were not flooded with that reference. They did pay homage to the free masons by having their logo projected on the screen at times.
The most memorable songs are sung by the Queen of the Night. She has an important aria in each of the two Acts. The one in the second act calls for a high F, which Pearson couldn't quite reach. Otherwise she did a commendable job.
The “regular” Pamina was ill, so a substitute (Quan, I think) filled in for her. She did an admirable job.
The opera was written in German. In this production the songs were sung in German, and the dialog was in English. With their Australian accent (and Chinese in the case of Pamina), the actors were at times difficult to understand. Too bad they didn't provide English subtitles for the dialog.
I am glad I didn't dish out $15 for the program. Fool me twice, shame on me.
The Sydney Morning Herald gave the performance a mixed review.
Tuesday, January 20, 2009
New York Philharmonic – Gustavo Dudamel, conductor; Pinchas Zukerman, violin. January 16, 2009
Avery Fisher Hall at Lincoln Center, Orchestra 3 (Seat GG19, $74)
Program
Violin Concerto, Op. 30 (2001-02) by Oliver Knussen (b. 1952).
Symphony No. 5 (1901-02) by Mahler (1860-1911).
I went by myself to today’s concert mostly because of all the hype about Dudamel and wanted to see for myself what this new phenomenon is like. I think he is 27 years old, and has been named the music director of the LA Philharmonic in the coming season. I have read reviews saying he is barely 5’ tall, and spends most of the time in the air (i.e., jumping around on the podium).
To me, it’s a waste to have someone like Zukerman play a piece of work like Knussen’s violin concerto. The composer describes this work as walking on a tight rope. The opening and the closing motif (if it can be called that) is bells in the orchestra and harmonics from the soloist. And that’s about as close to a tight rope as I can imagine, not having been on one myself. Zukerman needed the music and was (alas) glued to it. Actually the whole performance looked like has was practicing the piece for a concert; although I have to say he was ready for the concert, given how technically well he played it. Unfortunately, it was played without much emotion. The violin, a Guarnerius, sounded smooth. However, it’s no match for the orchestra, confirming my opinion that a Guarnerius is more suitable for chamber music (or a chamber orchestra). The three movements (Recitative, Aria, and Gigue) are distinct enough even though the piece is played without pause.
My opinion on Dudamel after this concerto was that he is quite precise, and he spends a lot of time on the balls of his feet, rather than in the air. And he is quite a bit taller than 5’. I was in no position to say whether he led a good performance, though. He reminds me of Zhang Xian, NY Phil’s associate conductor. She is short (shorter than Dudamel appears, even with heels), and jumps around the podium.
I enjoy Mahler’s symphonies, especially the fifth ever since I played it while I was in college many years ago. I didn’t know people divided the five movments into three parts. Part I consists of (i) Funeral March: With measured step. Strict. Like a cortege; and (ii) Stormily. With greatest vehemence. Part II is “Scherzo: Vigorously, not too fast.” Part III is another two movements: (iv) Adagietto: Very slow; and (v) Rondo-Finale: Allegro giocoso. Lively. Interestingly the tempo markings (if you can call it that) are in English; past NY Phil notes had them in German.
The introduction by the brass was a bit louder than most performances I have heard before. Usually it sounded distant with gradually increasing volume; not with Dudamel, though. Other than that, I have no quibble with this most enjoyable performance. On top of that, he did the 75 minute piece from memory. One of those days some intrepid soul will try to abridge the Mahler symphonies (and the ones by others such as Bruckner) as they tend to be way too long. The two young people in front of me fell asleep and their parents kept trying to wake them up. With Mahler, it may be a bit tough as he simply moves from theme to theme without a lot of repetition. And the parts he chooses to repeat are some of the most pleasant ones in his work. In any case, this is a sad symphony, which Mahler described as “the sum of all the suffering I have been compelled to endure at the hands of life.”
I, for one, came away very impressed. The applause at the end wasn’t as prolonged as I expected, although a lot of people jumped up right afterwards. Sometimes hype is hype, sometimes hype is well-deserved.
The New York Times reviewer was very enthusiastic also. He heard only the Mahler piece.
Program
Violin Concerto, Op. 30 (2001-02) by Oliver Knussen (b. 1952).
Symphony No. 5 (1901-02) by Mahler (1860-1911).
I went by myself to today’s concert mostly because of all the hype about Dudamel and wanted to see for myself what this new phenomenon is like. I think he is 27 years old, and has been named the music director of the LA Philharmonic in the coming season. I have read reviews saying he is barely 5’ tall, and spends most of the time in the air (i.e., jumping around on the podium).
To me, it’s a waste to have someone like Zukerman play a piece of work like Knussen’s violin concerto. The composer describes this work as walking on a tight rope. The opening and the closing motif (if it can be called that) is bells in the orchestra and harmonics from the soloist. And that’s about as close to a tight rope as I can imagine, not having been on one myself. Zukerman needed the music and was (alas) glued to it. Actually the whole performance looked like has was practicing the piece for a concert; although I have to say he was ready for the concert, given how technically well he played it. Unfortunately, it was played without much emotion. The violin, a Guarnerius, sounded smooth. However, it’s no match for the orchestra, confirming my opinion that a Guarnerius is more suitable for chamber music (or a chamber orchestra). The three movements (Recitative, Aria, and Gigue) are distinct enough even though the piece is played without pause.
My opinion on Dudamel after this concerto was that he is quite precise, and he spends a lot of time on the balls of his feet, rather than in the air. And he is quite a bit taller than 5’. I was in no position to say whether he led a good performance, though. He reminds me of Zhang Xian, NY Phil’s associate conductor. She is short (shorter than Dudamel appears, even with heels), and jumps around the podium.
I enjoy Mahler’s symphonies, especially the fifth ever since I played it while I was in college many years ago. I didn’t know people divided the five movments into three parts. Part I consists of (i) Funeral March: With measured step. Strict. Like a cortege; and (ii) Stormily. With greatest vehemence. Part II is “Scherzo: Vigorously, not too fast.” Part III is another two movements: (iv) Adagietto: Very slow; and (v) Rondo-Finale: Allegro giocoso. Lively. Interestingly the tempo markings (if you can call it that) are in English; past NY Phil notes had them in German.
The introduction by the brass was a bit louder than most performances I have heard before. Usually it sounded distant with gradually increasing volume; not with Dudamel, though. Other than that, I have no quibble with this most enjoyable performance. On top of that, he did the 75 minute piece from memory. One of those days some intrepid soul will try to abridge the Mahler symphonies (and the ones by others such as Bruckner) as they tend to be way too long. The two young people in front of me fell asleep and their parents kept trying to wake them up. With Mahler, it may be a bit tough as he simply moves from theme to theme without a lot of repetition. And the parts he chooses to repeat are some of the most pleasant ones in his work. In any case, this is a sad symphony, which Mahler described as “the sum of all the suffering I have been compelled to endure at the hands of life.”
I, for one, came away very impressed. The applause at the end wasn’t as prolonged as I expected, although a lot of people jumped up right afterwards. Sometimes hype is hype, sometimes hype is well-deserved.
The New York Times reviewer was very enthusiastic also. He heard only the Mahler piece.
Wednesday, January 14, 2009
New York Philharmonic – Ludovic Morlot, conductor; Olli Mustonen, Piano. January 10, 2009.
Avery Fisher Hall at Lincoln Center, Orchestra 4 Rear (Seat JJ4, $58)
Program
Gondwana (1980; U.S. Premiere) by Tristan Murail (b. 1947).
Piano Concerto in F major, K. 413/387a (1782-83) by Mozart (1756-91).
Oiseaux exotiques, for Solo Piano and Small Orchestra (1955-56) by Messiaen (1908-92).
La Mer: Trois esquisees symphoniques (The Sea: Three Symphonic Sketches; 1903-05, rev. 1910) by Debussy (1862-1918).
Morlot burst onto the scene in early 2006 as a last-minute stand-in for Christoph von Dohnanyi, and he got good reviews. This is now compared to the “Lenny moment” when Bernstein, at age 25, substituted for Bruno Walter. Morlot was a bit older at 32 (he is now 34), and the piece that was particularly outstanding was a piece by Elliot Carter. We actually attended that particular concert series (on March 4, 2006); I thought Morlot was okay, but didn’t have much to say about Carter’s piece.
Now Morlot has graduated to conducting a regular subscription series; he remains BSO’s assistant conductor. Today’s program was interesting in that one wonders why the Austrian Mozart would appear between three rather modern pieces by French composers. The program notes talks about how a concert program is arrived at, but it still doesn’t explain the weird juxtaposition of the pieces. Another aspect was the massive movements of seats between pieces which took up a lot of time, despite the efficiency of the black-tie staff.
Gondwana is the southern portion of Pangaea, the supercontinent some believe existed 250 million years ago that eventually broke up into today’s continents. Perhaps Mr. Murail had visions of what this looked like, because I have no idea why he thinks the music would represent this land at all. He is well-known for spectral music, which just sounded limited in range and monotonous to me. His use of ¼ tones reminds me of a piece I played at Cornell (“The apotheosis of the earth” by Karel Husa, I think; there we didn’t have to count precisely) which I found confusing even while I was performing on stage (at Carnegie Hall, by the way). Perhaps that’s the whole idea. The piece was first performed tonight in the US, nearly 40 years after it was composed. With any luck it won’t be played for another 40 years, and that would be okay. Alas, Murail now teaches at Columbia, so there may be no escape! He made a curtain call after the performance.
Morlot was very precise in his conducting. One could see clearly whether a particular measure contained 2, 3, or 4 beats. And the pattern continued with the rest of the program.
I wasn’t very familiar with this particular Mozart concerto. It is in three movements: Allegro; Larghetto; and Tempo di Menuetto. Cadenzas for the first and second movements were written by Mozart himself. Mozart evidently had some trouble selling it when it was completed.
Olli Mustonen, who conducts, performs, and composes (!), has a very unique style which is either brilliant or affected, I can’t decide. The Mozart sounded more disjoint (or spirited, depends on one’s view) than most Mozarts I have heard. There were parts I really enjoyed, and there were sections I felt a bit embarrassed about. Another first was he had the music in front of him. I can understand if he was a last-minute stand-in, but supposedly “they” started the decision process a couple of years ago.
I knew of Messiaen, but don't remember hearing any of his music. The small orchestra consisted of about 15 players, no strings, and a huge gong that sometimes took 2 people to mute. Mustonen did a brilliant job in this instance, pounding out the rapid passages with ease. Supposedly there are different colors and bird songs in the piece; I don’t have perfect pitch (color) and have limited knowledge of ornithology (birds), so most of it just flew over my head. Nonetheless the activities on stage were quite interesting to see.
We actually heard the most recent NY Philharmonic performance of La Mer conducted by David Robertson, and I had a so-so review of the piece. It was much more enjoyable this time though. Whether it is the conductor, or Debussy sounded down-right traditional compared to Murail and Messiaen, I don’t know. To be fair to Morlot, Robertson’s program was quite contemporary also.
Our seats were in the back of the orchestra section. They had a good view of the orchestra, and the acoustics was quite good. They are among the least expensive of seats, go figure.
Strangely enough, I actually quite enjoyed the concert. The New York Times review opens with a couple of paragraphs of high praise that's not quite supported by the rest of the generally narrow-in-scope article. The reviewer describes Mustonen's performance as "quirky."
Heavy snow was forecast for tonight. When it looked okay at around 5 pm, we decided to drive into the city. Turns out to be a good decision: we zipped in and out of town without any trouble. The water heater in our house broke, so we stopped by Ellie and Kuau’s place after the concert to take a hot shower. And there was no more than 1/2 " of snow on the ground.
Program
Gondwana (1980; U.S. Premiere) by Tristan Murail (b. 1947).
Piano Concerto in F major, K. 413/387a (1782-83) by Mozart (1756-91).
Oiseaux exotiques, for Solo Piano and Small Orchestra (1955-56) by Messiaen (1908-92).
La Mer: Trois esquisees symphoniques (The Sea: Three Symphonic Sketches; 1903-05, rev. 1910) by Debussy (1862-1918).
Morlot burst onto the scene in early 2006 as a last-minute stand-in for Christoph von Dohnanyi, and he got good reviews. This is now compared to the “Lenny moment” when Bernstein, at age 25, substituted for Bruno Walter. Morlot was a bit older at 32 (he is now 34), and the piece that was particularly outstanding was a piece by Elliot Carter. We actually attended that particular concert series (on March 4, 2006); I thought Morlot was okay, but didn’t have much to say about Carter’s piece.
Now Morlot has graduated to conducting a regular subscription series; he remains BSO’s assistant conductor. Today’s program was interesting in that one wonders why the Austrian Mozart would appear between three rather modern pieces by French composers. The program notes talks about how a concert program is arrived at, but it still doesn’t explain the weird juxtaposition of the pieces. Another aspect was the massive movements of seats between pieces which took up a lot of time, despite the efficiency of the black-tie staff.
Gondwana is the southern portion of Pangaea, the supercontinent some believe existed 250 million years ago that eventually broke up into today’s continents. Perhaps Mr. Murail had visions of what this looked like, because I have no idea why he thinks the music would represent this land at all. He is well-known for spectral music, which just sounded limited in range and monotonous to me. His use of ¼ tones reminds me of a piece I played at Cornell (“The apotheosis of the earth” by Karel Husa, I think; there we didn’t have to count precisely) which I found confusing even while I was performing on stage (at Carnegie Hall, by the way). Perhaps that’s the whole idea. The piece was first performed tonight in the US, nearly 40 years after it was composed. With any luck it won’t be played for another 40 years, and that would be okay. Alas, Murail now teaches at Columbia, so there may be no escape! He made a curtain call after the performance.
Morlot was very precise in his conducting. One could see clearly whether a particular measure contained 2, 3, or 4 beats. And the pattern continued with the rest of the program.
I wasn’t very familiar with this particular Mozart concerto. It is in three movements: Allegro; Larghetto; and Tempo di Menuetto. Cadenzas for the first and second movements were written by Mozart himself. Mozart evidently had some trouble selling it when it was completed.
Olli Mustonen, who conducts, performs, and composes (!), has a very unique style which is either brilliant or affected, I can’t decide. The Mozart sounded more disjoint (or spirited, depends on one’s view) than most Mozarts I have heard. There were parts I really enjoyed, and there were sections I felt a bit embarrassed about. Another first was he had the music in front of him. I can understand if he was a last-minute stand-in, but supposedly “they” started the decision process a couple of years ago.
I knew of Messiaen, but don't remember hearing any of his music. The small orchestra consisted of about 15 players, no strings, and a huge gong that sometimes took 2 people to mute. Mustonen did a brilliant job in this instance, pounding out the rapid passages with ease. Supposedly there are different colors and bird songs in the piece; I don’t have perfect pitch (color) and have limited knowledge of ornithology (birds), so most of it just flew over my head. Nonetheless the activities on stage were quite interesting to see.
We actually heard the most recent NY Philharmonic performance of La Mer conducted by David Robertson, and I had a so-so review of the piece. It was much more enjoyable this time though. Whether it is the conductor, or Debussy sounded down-right traditional compared to Murail and Messiaen, I don’t know. To be fair to Morlot, Robertson’s program was quite contemporary also.
Our seats were in the back of the orchestra section. They had a good view of the orchestra, and the acoustics was quite good. They are among the least expensive of seats, go figure.
Strangely enough, I actually quite enjoyed the concert. The New York Times review opens with a couple of paragraphs of high praise that's not quite supported by the rest of the generally narrow-in-scope article. The reviewer describes Mustonen's performance as "quirky."
Heavy snow was forecast for tonight. When it looked okay at around 5 pm, we decided to drive into the city. Turns out to be a good decision: we zipped in and out of town without any trouble. The water heater in our house broke, so we stopped by Ellie and Kuau’s place after the concert to take a hot shower. And there was no more than 1/2 " of snow on the ground.
Tuesday, January 06, 2009
Metropolitan Opera – Massenet’s Thais, January 5, 2009.
Metropolitan Opera at Lincoln Center – Orchestra, Seat CC36 ($71.50).
Story. The monk Athanael wants to convert Thais, goddess of Venus in Alexandria, to Christianity. He visits his friend Nicias who has purchased the services of Thais and meets with Thais. After an all-night struggle, Thais decides to abandon her old ways. She burns down her house, including the statute Eros – a symbol of love – and joins a convent. During her 3-month stay at the convent, she leads a completely saintly life and her body is at the end of her strength. Meanwhile, Athanael finds himself in love with Thais and renounces his faith so he can be with her. When he gets to the convent, Thais dies.
Conductor – Jesus Lopez-Cobos; Thais – Renee Fleming, Athanael – Thomas Hampson, Palemon – Alain Vernhes, Nicias – Michael Schade.
The violin solo “Meditation” is a popular piece played by aspiring violinists. It is a nice melody and is relatively easy to play (perhaps even well). I have know “Thais” since I was a teenager, but had no idea what the opera was about.
We came back from Florida this morning, waking up at 4:30 am to catch an early flight. The opera was enjoyable enough that I had no trouble staying awake, although by the time we got home it was past midnight. To be fair, I did nap for an hour or so in the afternoon.
The story is quite simple, actually I thought some scenes were a bit long for what they want to accomplish. An example would be the time it took for Athanael to dress properly for the evening at Nicias’ house. The music was pleasant enough that for most part I didn’t mind.
The singing was excellent by all the principals. Actually the supporting cast did very well also. Renee Fleming, as usual, was exquisite. She did have trouble with one note (that I noticed), though. I don’t know how high she had to reach, but you can tell she wanted to make sure she got the note before stressing it. I imagine she is at the peak of her career at this point. The male protagonist is one of those rare baritone roles, and Hampson did it very well.
There were many scene changes, with a couple of pauses between scenes in Acts 1 and 3. Meditation was played between the scenes in Act 2. There was tremendous applause which I found puzzling. I am sure the soloist (John Chan, the concertmaster) is a great musician, but I certainly don’t think the applause, especially compared to that gotten by the singers, was warranted. Interestingly, the theme is reused many times after its introduction, and Fleming sang some of those parts. She was a bit weak at the low registers.
The program notes describes how the music for Athanael changes from nice to disjointed as he falls from grace, and cites that as an example of how great the opera is. Indeed that is true, but I would suggest instead of reading too much into the opera, one should just enjoy it as a pleasant work with good drama and great music. This is somewhat like Mendelssohn’s violin concerto: enjoy it, don’t analyze it.
There must be something about French opera composers that make them include a dance number in their works. There is one here, and of course there are dances in Saint-Saen’s Samson & Delilah and Bizet’s Carmen.
The program notes also talks about the new production, and how the clothes were designed by Christian Lacroix to match the occasion. I think it is a bit over the top.
A few anachronistic instances of note. The guard had a gun, I’m sure it wasn’t around during the 4th century AD. Also, Nicias threw out paper money to distract the crowd so Thais and Athanael could escape. I’m sure they didn’t use paper money then, either.
One note about the seat. We were in the orchestra section, towards the rear. The acoustics were a bit funny at the edge of the section: probably due to the overhang of the boxes above the seats. In Act 3 we managed to move a bit closer to the center, and the acoustics were much better just 2 seats over.
I am glad we went. The New York Times reviewer has a view very similar to mine, except the writer did a much better job writing.
Story. The monk Athanael wants to convert Thais, goddess of Venus in Alexandria, to Christianity. He visits his friend Nicias who has purchased the services of Thais and meets with Thais. After an all-night struggle, Thais decides to abandon her old ways. She burns down her house, including the statute Eros – a symbol of love – and joins a convent. During her 3-month stay at the convent, she leads a completely saintly life and her body is at the end of her strength. Meanwhile, Athanael finds himself in love with Thais and renounces his faith so he can be with her. When he gets to the convent, Thais dies.
Conductor – Jesus Lopez-Cobos; Thais – Renee Fleming, Athanael – Thomas Hampson, Palemon – Alain Vernhes, Nicias – Michael Schade.
The violin solo “Meditation” is a popular piece played by aspiring violinists. It is a nice melody and is relatively easy to play (perhaps even well). I have know “Thais” since I was a teenager, but had no idea what the opera was about.
We came back from Florida this morning, waking up at 4:30 am to catch an early flight. The opera was enjoyable enough that I had no trouble staying awake, although by the time we got home it was past midnight. To be fair, I did nap for an hour or so in the afternoon.
The story is quite simple, actually I thought some scenes were a bit long for what they want to accomplish. An example would be the time it took for Athanael to dress properly for the evening at Nicias’ house. The music was pleasant enough that for most part I didn’t mind.
The singing was excellent by all the principals. Actually the supporting cast did very well also. Renee Fleming, as usual, was exquisite. She did have trouble with one note (that I noticed), though. I don’t know how high she had to reach, but you can tell she wanted to make sure she got the note before stressing it. I imagine she is at the peak of her career at this point. The male protagonist is one of those rare baritone roles, and Hampson did it very well.
There were many scene changes, with a couple of pauses between scenes in Acts 1 and 3. Meditation was played between the scenes in Act 2. There was tremendous applause which I found puzzling. I am sure the soloist (John Chan, the concertmaster) is a great musician, but I certainly don’t think the applause, especially compared to that gotten by the singers, was warranted. Interestingly, the theme is reused many times after its introduction, and Fleming sang some of those parts. She was a bit weak at the low registers.
The program notes describes how the music for Athanael changes from nice to disjointed as he falls from grace, and cites that as an example of how great the opera is. Indeed that is true, but I would suggest instead of reading too much into the opera, one should just enjoy it as a pleasant work with good drama and great music. This is somewhat like Mendelssohn’s violin concerto: enjoy it, don’t analyze it.
There must be something about French opera composers that make them include a dance number in their works. There is one here, and of course there are dances in Saint-Saen’s Samson & Delilah and Bizet’s Carmen.
The program notes also talks about the new production, and how the clothes were designed by Christian Lacroix to match the occasion. I think it is a bit over the top.
A few anachronistic instances of note. The guard had a gun, I’m sure it wasn’t around during the 4th century AD. Also, Nicias threw out paper money to distract the crowd so Thais and Athanael could escape. I’m sure they didn’t use paper money then, either.
One note about the seat. We were in the orchestra section, towards the rear. The acoustics were a bit funny at the edge of the section: probably due to the overhang of the boxes above the seats. In Act 3 we managed to move a bit closer to the center, and the acoustics were much better just 2 seats over.
I am glad we went. The New York Times reviewer has a view very similar to mine, except the writer did a much better job writing.
Saturday, December 13, 2008
The National Chorale & Orchestra – Martin Josman, Music Director. December 12, 2008.
Avery Fisher Hall at Lincoln Center, Third Tier Right (Seat BB109, $52).
Program
Messiah (1741) by George Frideric Handel
Jee Hyun Lim, Soprano
Jennifer Roderer, Alto
Matt Morgan, Tenor
Derrick Parker, Bass
Since I was quite disappointed at the last National Chorale concert I went to, and since I was quite jet-lagged from my Hong Kong trip, I wasn’t looking forward to tonight’s performance. In the end I enjoyed this concert. Anne & I took the train in and managed a simple meal at China Fun. Shirley and Chung Shu drove in; it took them 2 ½ hours because Lincoln Tunnel was quite congested.
Again I was surprised at the small orchestra (5 first violins, e.g.). Turns out it was quite adequate for the 40 singers in the chorale. Indeed often times only one of the two cellos was playing. The concert wasn’t sold out, but there were enough attendees to make it respectable.
The start was tentative, fortunately the group improved as the performance continued. The tenor certainly was impressive, unfortunately he was the best of the lot. The bass’s voice was one of the strangest I have heard. It didn’t project, and Chung Shu described it as a bowling ball sloshing around in a square box requiring echo cancellation. The alto was also quite good. The soprano’s voice projected well but I had trouble with the words.
The choir was certainly together in getting their s’s and t’s out at the same time. I later noticed the conductor was very careful with cueing them in. The sopranos strained to reach the high notes. Towards the end the singing got somewhat sloppy. It is a rather long piece, and I am sure they were all a bit tired. (Total time was 2 hours 45 minutes, with a 30 or so minute intermission.) However, the conductor seemed to pay most of his attention to the choir, and the orchestra’s performance suffered, possibly as a result.
I was surprised at the instrumentation of the piece: no flutes, for instance. And one of the trumpet players was using (I think) a piccolo trumpet with 4 “plungers” instead of the usual three. The timpanist could dampen the drums after the notes a bit more diligently, there was a bit too much echo.
I felt a bit sorry for the conductor as he seemed not able to stand straight. His movements also were minimal, but basically got the job done (other than my note about not paying enough attention to the orchestra.) I wish he was a bit more animated, though, since the music was quite exciting.
Our seats, while furthest away from the stage, had good acoustics, and we could hear very well. Overall, tonight was a rather enjoyable evening, the concert’s length and my tiredness notwithstanding.
Program
Messiah (1741) by George Frideric Handel
Jee Hyun Lim, Soprano
Jennifer Roderer, Alto
Matt Morgan, Tenor
Derrick Parker, Bass
Since I was quite disappointed at the last National Chorale concert I went to, and since I was quite jet-lagged from my Hong Kong trip, I wasn’t looking forward to tonight’s performance. In the end I enjoyed this concert. Anne & I took the train in and managed a simple meal at China Fun. Shirley and Chung Shu drove in; it took them 2 ½ hours because Lincoln Tunnel was quite congested.
Again I was surprised at the small orchestra (5 first violins, e.g.). Turns out it was quite adequate for the 40 singers in the chorale. Indeed often times only one of the two cellos was playing. The concert wasn’t sold out, but there were enough attendees to make it respectable.
The start was tentative, fortunately the group improved as the performance continued. The tenor certainly was impressive, unfortunately he was the best of the lot. The bass’s voice was one of the strangest I have heard. It didn’t project, and Chung Shu described it as a bowling ball sloshing around in a square box requiring echo cancellation. The alto was also quite good. The soprano’s voice projected well but I had trouble with the words.
The choir was certainly together in getting their s’s and t’s out at the same time. I later noticed the conductor was very careful with cueing them in. The sopranos strained to reach the high notes. Towards the end the singing got somewhat sloppy. It is a rather long piece, and I am sure they were all a bit tired. (Total time was 2 hours 45 minutes, with a 30 or so minute intermission.) However, the conductor seemed to pay most of his attention to the choir, and the orchestra’s performance suffered, possibly as a result.
I was surprised at the instrumentation of the piece: no flutes, for instance. And one of the trumpet players was using (I think) a piccolo trumpet with 4 “plungers” instead of the usual three. The timpanist could dampen the drums after the notes a bit more diligently, there was a bit too much echo.
I felt a bit sorry for the conductor as he seemed not able to stand straight. His movements also were minimal, but basically got the job done (other than my note about not paying enough attention to the orchestra.) I wish he was a bit more animated, though, since the music was quite exciting.
Our seats, while furthest away from the stage, had good acoustics, and we could hear very well. Overall, tonight was a rather enjoyable evening, the concert’s length and my tiredness notwithstanding.
Tuesday, December 02, 2008
New York Philharmonic - Lorin Maazel, conductor; Julia Fischer, violin. November 29, 2008.
Avery Fisher Hall at Lincoln Center, Third Tier Center (Seat EE5, $48)
Program
Brandenburg Concerto No. 1 in F major, BWV 1046 (ca. 1717-23) by J.S. Bach (1685-1750).
Violin Concerto No. 5 in A Major, K. 219, Turkish (1775) by Mozart (1756-91).
Symphony No. 4 in D minor, Op. 120 (1841/1851) by Schumann (1810-56).
We bought these tickets a couple of weeks ago (at least we thought we did) so we can spend the evening with Ellie and Kuau. Earlier in the day I couldn't find the tickets, and then discovered I was issued the tickets for Dec 9 (Elektra). Not only did I have no intention of seeing Strauss, I will be out of town on that day anyway. After some frantic wringing of the hands and calling the Box Office, I ended up purchasing new tickets for tonight's concert, and exchange the 4 Elektra tickets for 2 sets of 2 tickets for later concerts. (And ended up spending an additional $280 or so on NY Philharmonic.) All is well that ends well, though.
We drove in to NYC. We had no trouble doing that yesterday for the opera, and Friday after Thanksgiving is usually one of those aweful "gridlock" days. And there was also minimal congestion tonight. Perhaps the economy is really quite bad? We had a simple dinner at China Fun, and Ellie couldn't pass up buying a few cupcakes at Magnolia Bakery.
I am actually not familiar with Brandenburg No. 1. These six concertos were written by Bach as "audition" pieces for a position with the Margrave of (where else) Brandenburg; and Bach ended up not going. The movements are [Allegro]; Adagio; Allegro; Menuet: Trio I - Polacca: Trio II. The solo parts were played by Glenn Dictoerow (violin); Liang Wang, Sherry Sylar, Robert Botti (oboe); Judith LeClair (bassoon); Philip Myers, R. Allen Spanjer (horn); and Lionel Party (harpsichord). There were no flutes (solo or orchestra) in this piece. (Mozart didn't write any parts for flute either in Violin Concerto No. 5.) The performance didn't quite have the tight architecture feel one expects of Bach, the solo parts seemed more like on their own than being part of an integrated piece, and I was particularly disappointed at the solo violin (Dicterow has perfect pitch, per Program Notes). Ellie pointed out the violin was tuned a minor third higher to mimic a period instrument (the piccolo violin). This may or may not explain why it sounded the way it did. Another surprise is that Maazel conducted with the musical score.
The violin concerto is a familiar one, and technically not very challenging. Mozart wrote it when he was nineteen. The movements are Allegro aperto; Adagio; and Rondeau (Tempo di Menuetto). Fischer, at 25, is the youngest professor of violin in Germany. The program doesn't specify the violin she plays, but it didn't sound brilliant enough to be a Stradivarious or soft enough to be an Amati or Guarnerius. The is confirmed by her Wikipedia entry, which says she is also a pianist who has won several prizes in that instrument. Nonetheless, I thought the second and third movements were quite flat.
They rang the bell at about 10 minutes into the intermission so I rushed back to my seat. Turns out the total intermission was about 30 minutes long. Go figure.
Schmann's fourth symphony was written and edited by the composer in the span of 10 years (about his entire symphony-writing period), and he stopped composing soon after completing it. The movements are played without pause: Fairly slow - Lively; Romance: Fairly slow; Scherzo: Lively; and Slow- Lively - Faster - Presto. (Why would the description be in English?) A couple of motifs/themes seem to recur throughout, making the identification of where things are particularly difficult. Maazel conducted both the Mozart and this without music, and he did this with great enthusiasm, and the orchestra responded the same way. The piece was very enjoyable.
Ellie asked me if I was ever impressed with performances I go to. I told her at the end of the program the Schumann would be an example of something done very well.
The New York Times reviewer saw the program on a different date. Fischer was wearing a red dress on that day (black on the day we saw her play). The reviewer was much kinder than I am. Evidently Maazel hasn't done much Baroque music during his tenure with the Philharmonic.
Program
Brandenburg Concerto No. 1 in F major, BWV 1046 (ca. 1717-23) by J.S. Bach (1685-1750).
Violin Concerto No. 5 in A Major, K. 219, Turkish (1775) by Mozart (1756-91).
Symphony No. 4 in D minor, Op. 120 (1841/1851) by Schumann (1810-56).
We bought these tickets a couple of weeks ago (at least we thought we did) so we can spend the evening with Ellie and Kuau. Earlier in the day I couldn't find the tickets, and then discovered I was issued the tickets for Dec 9 (Elektra). Not only did I have no intention of seeing Strauss, I will be out of town on that day anyway. After some frantic wringing of the hands and calling the Box Office, I ended up purchasing new tickets for tonight's concert, and exchange the 4 Elektra tickets for 2 sets of 2 tickets for later concerts. (And ended up spending an additional $280 or so on NY Philharmonic.) All is well that ends well, though.
We drove in to NYC. We had no trouble doing that yesterday for the opera, and Friday after Thanksgiving is usually one of those aweful "gridlock" days. And there was also minimal congestion tonight. Perhaps the economy is really quite bad? We had a simple dinner at China Fun, and Ellie couldn't pass up buying a few cupcakes at Magnolia Bakery.
I am actually not familiar with Brandenburg No. 1. These six concertos were written by Bach as "audition" pieces for a position with the Margrave of (where else) Brandenburg; and Bach ended up not going. The movements are [Allegro]; Adagio; Allegro; Menuet: Trio I - Polacca: Trio II. The solo parts were played by Glenn Dictoerow (violin); Liang Wang, Sherry Sylar, Robert Botti (oboe); Judith LeClair (bassoon); Philip Myers, R. Allen Spanjer (horn); and Lionel Party (harpsichord). There were no flutes (solo or orchestra) in this piece. (Mozart didn't write any parts for flute either in Violin Concerto No. 5.) The performance didn't quite have the tight architecture feel one expects of Bach, the solo parts seemed more like on their own than being part of an integrated piece, and I was particularly disappointed at the solo violin (Dicterow has perfect pitch, per Program Notes). Ellie pointed out the violin was tuned a minor third higher to mimic a period instrument (the piccolo violin). This may or may not explain why it sounded the way it did. Another surprise is that Maazel conducted with the musical score.
The violin concerto is a familiar one, and technically not very challenging. Mozart wrote it when he was nineteen. The movements are Allegro aperto; Adagio; and Rondeau (Tempo di Menuetto). Fischer, at 25, is the youngest professor of violin in Germany. The program doesn't specify the violin she plays, but it didn't sound brilliant enough to be a Stradivarious or soft enough to be an Amati or Guarnerius. The is confirmed by her Wikipedia entry, which says she is also a pianist who has won several prizes in that instrument. Nonetheless, I thought the second and third movements were quite flat.
They rang the bell at about 10 minutes into the intermission so I rushed back to my seat. Turns out the total intermission was about 30 minutes long. Go figure.
Schmann's fourth symphony was written and edited by the composer in the span of 10 years (about his entire symphony-writing period), and he stopped composing soon after completing it. The movements are played without pause: Fairly slow - Lively; Romance: Fairly slow; Scherzo: Lively; and Slow- Lively - Faster - Presto. (Why would the description be in English?) A couple of motifs/themes seem to recur throughout, making the identification of where things are particularly difficult. Maazel conducted both the Mozart and this without music, and he did this with great enthusiasm, and the orchestra responded the same way. The piece was very enjoyable.
Ellie asked me if I was ever impressed with performances I go to. I told her at the end of the program the Schumann would be an example of something done very well.
The New York Times reviewer saw the program on a different date. Fischer was wearing a red dress on that day (black on the day we saw her play). The reviewer was much kinder than I am. Evidently Maazel hasn't done much Baroque music during his tenure with the Philharmonic.
Metropolitan Opera - Wagner's Tristan und Isolde, November 28, 2008.
Metropolitan Opera at Lincoln Center - Dress Circle, Seat E113 ($96.50).
Story. Tristan kills Irish Princess Isolde's finance Morold. He is wounded and Isolde heals him with her magic powers. Tristan later returns to Ireland to take Isolde to Cornwall to marry King Marke; however, the two fall in love. When Isolde's maid Brangane substitute a love potion for a poison, the attempted suicide by Tristan and Isolde results in them falling into each other's arms. When the two lovers meet in secret in Cornwall, they are discovered and denounced by the jealous knight Melot. King Marke, who treats Tristan as his own son, is greatly disappointed. After mortally wounded by Melot, Tristan is taken by his friend Kurwenal to Brittany. Marke and Melot come to Brittany; Melot is killed by Kurwenal, who is subsequently killed by the king's soldiers. Marke actually comes to pardon the lovers, but Tristan ends up dying in Isolde's arms, and Isolde dies upon his body. The story concludes with the lovers appearing together in the world beyond.
Conductor - Daniel Barenboim; Isolde - Katarina Dalayman, Brangane - Michelle DeYoung, Tristan - Peter Seiffert, King Marke - Rene Pape.
This is a long opera. The entire production is five hours long, with 2 intermissions of about 1/2 hour each. The role of Tristan is extremely difficult - high notes and a great deal of singing. An analogy would be a pitcher pitching all 18 innings of a double header. I do not know how great a singer Sieffert is, but his voice certainly tailed off at the end. And he had to sing this very long soliloquy in Act III. My reaction was somewhere between admiration and pity.
The Isolde part must be difficult also. But as the Program Notes say, it is a less demanding one. Brangane has to do quite a bit of singing also, and DeYoung did it well. Pape did an excellent job singing the role of King Marke. His voice was so strong that it was a bit out of balance in my view. Nonetheless, he deserved the applause the audience gave him at curtain call.
The story should be simple enough, but I find both the Program synopsis and the English subtitles a bit confusing. Maazel said somewhere that Wagner was a great composer but only a so-so librettist. Similar sentiments by the Program Annotator here.
To me the music has several interesting characteristics. First, we really thought we must know a couple of tunes from this opera, but turns out it sounded all new to us. Second, the tunes are very atonal; I couldn't tell whether some of the a capella singing was in tune, but I would swear it sounded off when the orchestra came in. Third, the English horn played a beautiful tune during Act III; we kept looking, but couldn't find it. Towards Act I there was this brass group in one of the top tier boxes, with their own conductor. We found Brangane in the orchestra pit. Fourth, as suggested by the Program Notes, to illustrate the sentiments of unrequited love, the chords never quite resolve themselves; this gives a strange quality to the music. Fifth, the melodies (such as they are) are mostly found in the orchestra; the singers tend to sing these high notes that provide harmony. Indeed the music made more "sense" when I tried to listen to the orchestra; but that is an unnatural thing to do since one's attention is usually directed to the stage. I am quite sure I will enjoy the opera more when I listen to it again; but there is very little chance of that.
Speaking of staging, this is one of the most minimal sets I have seen at the Met. And frankly, I don't like it. The same basic slanted platform is used as the deck of a ship, a Cornish castle, and a Brittany castle. There are trap doors where soldiers exit, and in Act III there are these miniature statutes to denote the dreamlike recollections of Tristan.
I had never seen Barenboim in person before today. I had a chance to see him play Beethoven's Emperor's Concerto several years ago, but had to give that up because my brother was visiting. From seeing him play on TV, he seems to be quite immobile (although the music is generally great). He looked very animated and engaged when he was conducting this piece, though. Also, he is surprisingly small when standing next to the principal singers at curtain call.
The New York Times reviewer loved Barenboim. He saw the same performance we did. There is this interesting discussion on the use of prompters by the singers, especially Seiffert who evidently wore an earpiece.
Story. Tristan kills Irish Princess Isolde's finance Morold. He is wounded and Isolde heals him with her magic powers. Tristan later returns to Ireland to take Isolde to Cornwall to marry King Marke; however, the two fall in love. When Isolde's maid Brangane substitute a love potion for a poison, the attempted suicide by Tristan and Isolde results in them falling into each other's arms. When the two lovers meet in secret in Cornwall, they are discovered and denounced by the jealous knight Melot. King Marke, who treats Tristan as his own son, is greatly disappointed. After mortally wounded by Melot, Tristan is taken by his friend Kurwenal to Brittany. Marke and Melot come to Brittany; Melot is killed by Kurwenal, who is subsequently killed by the king's soldiers. Marke actually comes to pardon the lovers, but Tristan ends up dying in Isolde's arms, and Isolde dies upon his body. The story concludes with the lovers appearing together in the world beyond.
Conductor - Daniel Barenboim; Isolde - Katarina Dalayman, Brangane - Michelle DeYoung, Tristan - Peter Seiffert, King Marke - Rene Pape.
This is a long opera. The entire production is five hours long, with 2 intermissions of about 1/2 hour each. The role of Tristan is extremely difficult - high notes and a great deal of singing. An analogy would be a pitcher pitching all 18 innings of a double header. I do not know how great a singer Sieffert is, but his voice certainly tailed off at the end. And he had to sing this very long soliloquy in Act III. My reaction was somewhere between admiration and pity.
The Isolde part must be difficult also. But as the Program Notes say, it is a less demanding one. Brangane has to do quite a bit of singing also, and DeYoung did it well. Pape did an excellent job singing the role of King Marke. His voice was so strong that it was a bit out of balance in my view. Nonetheless, he deserved the applause the audience gave him at curtain call.
The story should be simple enough, but I find both the Program synopsis and the English subtitles a bit confusing. Maazel said somewhere that Wagner was a great composer but only a so-so librettist. Similar sentiments by the Program Annotator here.
To me the music has several interesting characteristics. First, we really thought we must know a couple of tunes from this opera, but turns out it sounded all new to us. Second, the tunes are very atonal; I couldn't tell whether some of the a capella singing was in tune, but I would swear it sounded off when the orchestra came in. Third, the English horn played a beautiful tune during Act III; we kept looking, but couldn't find it. Towards Act I there was this brass group in one of the top tier boxes, with their own conductor. We found Brangane in the orchestra pit. Fourth, as suggested by the Program Notes, to illustrate the sentiments of unrequited love, the chords never quite resolve themselves; this gives a strange quality to the music. Fifth, the melodies (such as they are) are mostly found in the orchestra; the singers tend to sing these high notes that provide harmony. Indeed the music made more "sense" when I tried to listen to the orchestra; but that is an unnatural thing to do since one's attention is usually directed to the stage. I am quite sure I will enjoy the opera more when I listen to it again; but there is very little chance of that.
Speaking of staging, this is one of the most minimal sets I have seen at the Met. And frankly, I don't like it. The same basic slanted platform is used as the deck of a ship, a Cornish castle, and a Brittany castle. There are trap doors where soldiers exit, and in Act III there are these miniature statutes to denote the dreamlike recollections of Tristan.
I had never seen Barenboim in person before today. I had a chance to see him play Beethoven's Emperor's Concerto several years ago, but had to give that up because my brother was visiting. From seeing him play on TV, he seems to be quite immobile (although the music is generally great). He looked very animated and engaged when he was conducting this piece, though. Also, he is surprisingly small when standing next to the principal singers at curtain call.
The New York Times reviewer loved Barenboim. He saw the same performance we did. There is this interesting discussion on the use of prompters by the singers, especially Seiffert who evidently wore an earpiece.
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