New York Philharmonic – Christoph von Dohnanyi, conductor. March 8, 2016.

David Geffen Hall at Lincoln Center.  Orchestra (Seat Z103, $69.50).

Program

Ein deustsches Requiem (A German Requiem) Op. 45 (1866-68) by Brahms (1833-97).

Artists

Camilla Tilling, soprano; Matthias Goerne, baritone.

New York Choral Artists – Joseph Flummerfelt, director.

Per the Playbill, this was last performed by the New York Philharmonic in 2007, with Lorin Maazel the conductor.  Looking back at my blog, we attended a concert in that series.

Frankly I had forgotten everything about the piece, other than it was in German and didn’t use the standard Latin liturgy.  Many aspects of the composition distinguish it: no lamb of God, no Days of Wrath, no Kyrie Eleison.  Instead we find the following seven movements: (i) Blessed are they that mourn, (ii) For all flesh is as grass, (iii) Lord, teach me, (iv) How amiable are Thy tabernacles, (v) Ye now therefore have sorrow, (vi) For here have we no continuing city, and (vii) Blessed are the dead.  Other than some passages from the books “Wisdom of Solomon” and “Ecclesiasticus,” the lyrics are taken from the Bible.  It is interesting that the requiem begins with “blessed are they that mourn” and ends with “blessed are the dead.”

Many criticize the lyrics’ not mentioning the redemptive work of Christ (Agnus Dei), and to one critic Brahms replied “I can neither argue away nor strike out a ‘from henceforth’ from my venerable poets.”  Indeed the German phrase “von nun on,” found in the last movement, was used many times.

The choral part of (vi), talking about God’s glory, honor, and power, was one of the loudest passages of the requiem.  Even though von Dohnanyi held his arms up, many in the audience applauded anyway.  That was perhaps an understandable mistake as I found it difficult to follow along the German text, even with some knowledge of German.  To me the inability of the chorus to articulate the words with precision was the weakest aspect of the performance.  This turns out was my same complaint about the 2007 performance.  The 80-plus strong ensemble otherwise did a good job, responding well to the direction of the conductor.

The orchestra did a good job, with the cellos putting in a particularly good reading.  Anne was listening for the trumpets (in (vi) we have ‘for the trumpet shall sound, and the dead shall be raised’) but couldn’t hear it; I didn’t even think of listening for it.  In any case, the score calls for only two trumpets.

The requiem lasted about 75 minutes, considerably longer than the advertised 60 minutes.  The soloists had little to do.  Actually it had to be about 45 or more minutes into the performance before Tilling got to sing her short aria.  It didn’t begin well, it sounded as if she needed some warm up exercises.  The notes rose quickly to a very high pitch (can’t tell what note it is,) and Tilling simply sounded strained.  She improved as things progressed, but not enough to redeem the performance.  Goerne was also the soloist for the 2007 series, he put in a solid performance.

Despite many things being slightly off, it was an enjoyable performance.  Von Dohnanyi is 86 years old, but appeared to be much younger.  There was a high stool on the podium, which he only made use of for a couple of minutes after the fourth movement (if memory serves.)

Curtain call with Tilling, von Dohnanyi, and Goerne.

The New YorkTimes review characterizes the performance as “exquisitely prepared and performed,” and an “occasion not to be missed.”  There were a few minor complaints, particularly about the soloists.

We stopped by the newly-reopened Europan for dinner afterwards.  We still managed to get back to Jersey City a bit after 10 pm.

New Jersey Symphony – Miguel Harth-Bedoya, conductor; Stephen Fang, cello. February 27, 2016.

Prudential Hall at NJPAC.  Orchestra (Seat G105, $52.)

Program

Appalachian Spring (1943-44) by Copland (1900-1990).

Silent Woods (1891) by Dvorak (1841-1904).

Hungarian Rhapsody, Op. 68 (1893) by Popper (1843-1913).

Symphony No. 9 in E Minor “From the New World,” Op. 95 by Dvorak.

In stark contrast to the New York Philharmonic program of the last concert, this one actually had a title – Vistas and Landscapes: Copland and Dvorak.  The conductor spoke briefly after the first piece was performed, describing the pieces by Copland and Dvorak.  He also said the piece by David Popper was just a nice addition to the program.

For all its “fame,” Appalachian Spring doesn’t get performed that often, either as a ballet or this orchestral suite.  I had always thought of the setting as somewhere in Tennessee, so I was surprised to learn from the Program Notes that Copland actually had in mind the Pennsylvania Dutch country.  Well, the Shaker melody should have been the give-away.  Interestingly, according to Wikipedia, Copland was thinking of neither Appalachia nor Spring when he wrote the ballet.  What gives?

The piece didn’t get the concert off on a good start.  While competently performed, it didn’t evoke the peace and quiet that is usually associated with the music.

Stephen Fang is the associate principal of NJSO, and he got to be the soloists today.  The first one, by Dvorak, is best characterized as “incidental music.”  It started as part of From The Bohemian Forest, a collection for one piano, four hands.  Dvorak then arranged it for cello and piano, and later for cello and orchestra.  It was a lovely tune to listen to.  Not having been to that part of Europe, I must assume that was what walking in the woods would be like.

Per the Program Notes, Popper was the greatest cello virtuoso of the late 19^th century, and wrote more than 100 works, almost all for cello.  The piece performed today sounded distinctly Hungarian, and showcased Fang’s technical prowess.  There are quite a few “ordinary” passages interspersed between the difficult ones; I thought they were unnecessary, perhaps they were there to give the soloist some time to breathe in between?

The audience seemed to love Fang, if the applause was any guide.

In reviewing my blog, the most recent encounters I had with the New World were in 2010 (Vienna Philharmonic conducted by Dudamel) and 2014 (Hong Kong Philharmonic conducted by Forster.)  To my surprise, my reviews for both were on the negative side.  In contrast, of all the words I could use to describe today’s performance, “disappointment” isn’t one of them.  The story was told simply, and told well.  I would consider this as one of the few instances where a guest conductor worked well with the New Jersey Symphony.

This was my first encounter with the Peru-born conductor Harth-Bedoya, his music training was from Curtis and Julliard.  He was quite precise in his movements, and did well with this orchestra, my comments about the Copland piece notwithstanding.

Anne had to go to Jersey City at the last minute, so couldn’t make the concert.  I ended up going by myself.

New York Philharmonic – Juraj Valcuha, conductor; Yefim Bronfman, piano. February 23, 2016.

David Geffen Hall at Lincoln Center.  Orchestra (Seat R105, $69.50).

Program

Galantai Tankoc (Dances of Galanta) (1933) by Kodaly (1882-1967).

Piano Concerto No. 2 in A major (1839-61) by Liszt (1811-86).

Vodnik (The Water Goblin), Op.107 (1896) by Dvorak (1841-1904).

La Valse (1919-20) by Ravel (1875-1937).

The headliner for this concert is definitely Bronfman and the Liszt concerto.  Afterall, the ticket says “Bronfman and Liszt.”  It was a worthwhile name for the event.

I was still a teenager, living in Hong Kong, when we first bought one of these multi-function gadgets that served both as a radio and a cassette tape player.  One of the first recordings I made off the air was Liszt’s first piano concerto, and I remember playing it over and over, and liking it more as I did so.

Structurally the two piano concertos share at least one attribute: they are both played as one uninterrupted piece.  The Program Notes says for this concerto many musicologists divide the six distinct sections into three movements: (i) allegro sostenuto assai – allegro agitato assai; (ii) allegro moderato; and (iii) allegro deciso, sempre allegro – marziale, un poco meno allegro – allegro animato, with the further remark that (ii) is often interpreted more as moderato than as allegro.

Both concertos are of short duration, with No. 2 at about 21 minutes.  Short though it may be, the pianist and the orchestra still got quite a workout, and both did that brilliantly, with a “take-no-prisoners” attitude.  This was definitely the highlight of the evening.  Bronfman did play an encore that showed his calm and melodic side.  It was good, and Anne agreed his “touch” was as good as Uchida’s.

Valcuha and Bronfman after performing Liszt's Piano Concerto No. 2.

The concert began with Kodalys’s Galanta Dances.  Perhaps we do come to these concerts too often, as we also attended the last series where this was played, in June, 2013.  Naturally I had no memory of what the piece sounded like.  This time it sounded simple and pleasant.

The two pieces performed after the intermission were towards the “dark side.”  Dvorak’s “The Water Goblin” was a symphonic poem (I assume this is the same thing as a “tone poem”) based on Erben’s work.  The story is grisly: A girl is pulled into the lake by the goblin and is made his wife, she longs to go back to see her mother, the goblin lets her go but keeps their child behind, when the girl doesn’t return, the goblin kills the child and throws the body onto the cottage.

I must say the music didn’t sound as dark as the story.  Evidently Dvorak wrote some musical phrases that mirror the words of the poem, and the Program Notes cites one specific example with both the music and the words.  It is quite interesting, too bad I can’t quite pronounce the words, although the melody – which as far I could tell shows up quite late in the piece – was easy enough to catch.  The melody used very early in the piece was repeated much more often, I wish there was some description of it.

I heard Ravel’s La Valse before, in 2008, and my blog entry then applies to what I heard today.  For this performance I heard more of how repeated attempts to get to a “normal” waltz devolved into dissonance, mirroring Ravel’s disillusion.  However, “nothing short of violent, terrifying, and bitterly final” is too strong a description of what the music sounded like in the end.

Some scholar announced in 2009 that the E-B-A notes in La Valse (Mi-Si-La in French) were used by Ravel to reference his close friend Misia Sert, and they are interlinked to the notes A and E at the beginning to denote Ravel (the two vowels in his name are A and E.)  This, the scholar asserts, revealed a romantic attraction that hitherto had not been documented.  I wonder how many Ph. D.s were awarded based on discoveries of this kind.

The last (and only) time I saw Valcuha I described his conducting as a bit exaggerated.  Today I didn’t think so at all; and the orchestra sounded great.  I do wonder about how this program hangs together.  The four pieces are on the short side (not to say they are easy to perform,) and except for the despair in the second half of the program, they seem to constitute a “sampler” of classical music.  So while each piece was enjoyable on its own, I do not have much a “takeaway” for the program in its entirety.

Interestingly, the New York Times review expressed a similar sentiment on tonight’s programming, contrasting thematic programming with randomness, and titling the review with the term "a quilt of composers."  The reviewer was also critical of the “blatant sounds” made by the woodwinds and brasses; well, having listened to the Sydney Philharmonic a couple of times recently, I have a new admiration for how good the New York Philharmonic players are.

Today's orchestra leader was Michelle Kim, who did a great job.  I do wonder where Huang and Staples were; especially Huang, whom we had not seen on stage for a while.  What gives?

We didn’t have time for a proper dinner, so we had pizza before we made our way back to Jersey City.

Mitsuko Uchida, piano. February 20, 2016.

Matthews Theatre at McCarter Theatre Center.  Balcony A (Seat DD107, $60.)

Program

Sonata, Op. 1 by BERG (1885-1935).

Four Impromptus, D. 899 by SCHUBERT (1797-1828).

Rondo in A minor, K. 511 by MOZART (1756-1791).

Sonata No. 1 in F-sharp minor, Op. 11 by SCHUMANN (1810-1856).

Chung Shu bought three tickets for this concert, for himself, Anne, and me.  However, he couldn’t make it because her daughter has a recital that evening, and he had to babysit.  Of course if we had known about Yi Heng’s recital, we wouldn’t have bought these tickets.  In any case, Agnes ended up going with us.

For one reason or another (one may well be I wasn’t paying attention,) Uchida had been absent from the area concert scene for quite a while.  But I got an email from the Cleveland Symphony that she would perform in that city, and the same program will be repeated at Carnegie Hall.  Uchida also planned to have a recital at Carnegie Hall on the 23^rd (already happened as I type this), and tonight’s program would be a warm up for that event.

When I saw Chung Shu this past Sunday, he asked me what I thought of the concert.  I told him I couldn’t tell, and that was a truthful statement.  I do have my reasons.

First, the pieces were all unfamiliar to me.  Even the Rondo by Mozart isn’t the rondo most casual listeners are familiar with (that would be K. 485, the alla turca.)  Most unfamiliar ensemble music stumps me, since I am not be able to analyze the harmony, the phrasing, and the dynamics on the fly.  For an instrument such as the piano where the two hands work with/against each other, I will have even more difficulty.

As it happens, I had the classical radio station on the day after this concert, and I heard a Mozart violin sonata that I really enjoyed.  It was K. 377.  I don’t remember who the violinist was, the pianist?  Uchida.  So at least I do have opinion when it’s a genre I am familiar with.

Uchida played an encore piece.  As with the regular program, she seemed to take every single repeat, making the piece very long.  Someone applauded with a few passages to go, and Uchida was quite annoyed, her gesture towards the clapping bordered on anger.

The program notes contain a detailed description of the pieces.  It helped a lot.

Anne did say her touch was impeccable, better than many she had seen.  I was in no position to debate that.

The New YorkTimes review of her Carnegie Hall recital was published as I wrote this.  The reviewer called the event “polished and elegant,” but had some minor reservations, such as how much she connected with the audience, or how there was not enough of a contrast between whimsy and tumult.  Such a review might be high praise for a young performer, for an established pro like Uchida, known for her interpretation of these composers, it might be considered a “many thumbs down” one.

We stopped by Agnes’s house before the concert to enjoy a dinner with her and her son.  It was after 11:30 pm when we got home.

Metropolitan Opera – Puccini’s Manon Lescaut. February 18, 2016.

Metropolitan Opera at Lincoln Center.  Orchestra (Seat K23. $25.)

Story.  On her way to the convent, Manon meets des Grieux, who falls in love with her.  Also traveling on the same train is the wealthy Geronte, who plots with Manon’s brother Lescaut to kidnay Manon.  This plot is overheard and relayed to des Grieux, who flees with Manon to Paris.  Lescaut doesn't think Manon can endure hardship for long.  Indeed, before long Manon leaves des Grieux and lives a live of luxury with Geronte.  Lescaut arranges for des Grieux to meet up with Manon.  As the two begin to make love, Geronte interrupts and threatens them.  The two plan to free, but Manon’s is caught because she cannot give up her riches.  Des Grieux visits the prison and sees that Manon is being sent off to exile with a group of mostly prostitutes.  He begs the captain to let him work as a deckhand on board and his wish is granted.  The two eventually escape but Manon dies from thirst and exhaustion.

Conductor – Fabio Luisi; Chevalier des Grieux – Roberto Alagna, Lescaut (Manon’s brother) – Massimo Cavalletti, Geronte de Ravoir – Brindley Sherratt, Manon Lescaut – Kristine Opolais.

We have seen Massenet’s Manon a couple of times, and enjoyed it.  I was aware that Puccini also wrote an opera based on the same story, but never had the chance to see it.  Since we were back in Jersey City, I tried, and succeeded in getting a couple of rush tickets.  The theater felt more packed than the many empty seats on the seating chart would indicate, which was a good thing.  Nonetheless we could move in a couple of seats (K21) when the performance began.

The synopsis certainly read quite differently from that of Massenet’s Manon.  The most noticeable would be how much more the audience is expected to fill in the gaps (especially between Acts 3 and 4) in Puccini’s case.  Also, I don’t remember this “show within a show” in Act 2 being in Massenet’s work.  The basic story of money or love is still there (a less crass term of “luxury.”)

This is a new production.  The last time it was staged at the Met was in 2008, but we didn’t get to see it.  The one noticeable new aspect is the period the story is set in: 1940s France, occupied by Germany.  The sets are traditional (i.e., realistic) showing a train station, an opulent house, a dock, and a wasteland.  I don’t know what the old set looked like, so can’t comment whether this is an improvement.  With the exception of the last set, things generally worked.  During the intermissions Anne heard several complained about the need for all these Nazis; I don’t mind seeing all these soldiers, but wonder if they were necessary, or added anything to the story.

The other aspect that I would quibble is more with the plot.  In this version there is a rather long episode where several musicians entertain Manon with a madrigal written by Geronte.  Perhaps this is to show how luxurious a life she was leading, to me the librettist could have used that time to fill in some of the blanks in the storyline so the audience wouldn’t have to interpolate or make up so much of the story.  The other segment I could do without was Manon's hesitation to leave her jewelry behind when she was trying to escape.  The acting was comedic, but entirely incongruent with the rest of the story.  I do wonder if this was Puccini's original intent, or it was this artistic team's idea.

Given how close we were to the stage, I am surprised how (relatively) weak the singing sounded.  We saw Opolais a while ago in La Rondine, I thought she only did okay; tonight’s impression was similar.  I became aware Jonas Kaufmann was scheduled as the tenor only when I got to the auditorium.  Alagna was okay, but one wonders how Kaufmann would have fared.  Kaufmann may not be quite up to five hours of Wagner, but I imagine he would do much better in this opera.

Even though he was not in my direct line of sight, it was easy to see Luisi from our seats. He conducted with a lot of energy, and I am again surprised at how closely he directed the singers.  The score was easy to like, and the orchestra did a great job of it.

When we were talking about this opera, Anne looked at the New York Times review.  Even though I asked her not to tell me what the reviewer thought, she said enough that I suspected it wasn’t a good review.  I read it just now, turns out it was a pretty good one, except for this new production.  It was amazing that it took Alagna all of 16 days to get it together; although the slip we got with the program seems to say he had rehearsed it before, but had never performed it.  The review also describes the story in considerable detail; he used terms like “ridiculous” to describe the new production, though.

Curtain Call in front of "wasteland" of Act 4.  From the left: Brindley Sherratt (Geronte), des Grieux (Alagna), Luisi, Opolais (Manon), and Cavalletti (Lescaut).

One observation I would make is the Manon we saw (March, 2015) was the 271^st performance at the Met, and this was the 218^th performance for Puccini’s version.  Some indication of popularity?

With two intermissions the opera didn’t end until 11:15 pm.  It was close to midnight when we got back to Jersey City.

Opera Australia – Verdi’s Luisa Miller. February 11, 2016.

Joan Sutherland Theatre at Sydney Opera House.  Circle (Seat M27, A$99.)

Story.  Luisa is in love with Carlo, who is actually Rodolfo, Count Walter’s son.  Wurm is a suitor of Luisa and reveals to Miller Carlo’s true identity.  Walter also wants to end the relationship as he wants his son to marry the recently-widowed Duchess Federica who is in love with Rodolfo.  Walter wants to imprison Luisa and Miller, but spares them because Rodolfo threatens to reveal the secret that Walter only became the Count by having Wurm murder his cousin.  Miller is later imprisoned by Walter for insulting him, and Luisa is told by Wurm that Miller will be executed unless Luisa writes a note saying her relationship with Rodolfo is a sham, which she reluctantly does.  When Rodolfo sees the letter, Walter tells him the best revenge is to marry Frederica.  Instead the distraught Rodolfo drinks from a glass of poisoned water and offers the glass to Luisa.  Knowing that she is about to die, she tells Rodolfo that she wrote the letter only to save her father.

Conductor – Andrea Licata; Luisa – Nicole Car, Miller – Dalibor Jenis, Rodolfo – Diego Torre, Wurm – Daniel Sumegi, Count Walter – Raymond Aceto, Federica – Sian Pendry.

I wasn’t at all familiar with Luisa Miller, so I was looking forward to seeing this.  Turns out I am quite familiar with one of the arias (Quando le sere al placido,) where Rodolfo describes the happy times he had with Luisa were based on deceit.  Overall I am glad I went, but I did leave thinking the opera didn’t achieve its possible potential.  There were many empty seats, and we managed to move up a few rows: I had seat J28.

First the set.  I can’t imagine the thinking process that went into its design (and it’s a co-production with Opera Lausanne.)  The beginning was promising enough: a marble set that one could think of as a tomb or an altar, which is a motif quoted quite often in the opera.  The entire set is then moved out of the way and ends up hanging over the stage for the rest of the opera.  What is left is the barest of props: a few chairs placed on slanted surfaces.  The designers also went with a monochrome design, so the colors are mostly white, black, and gray.

To add to the surreal nature of the performance, the story is told as a flashback with a sense of “what could have been,” quoting from the handout.  Thus Luisa’s first appearance is her lying inside a wreath.

The story is quite pedestrian, with elements of unrequited love, betrayal, and death.  However, that is the basis of many operas; indeed Verdi wrote a few of them, La Traviata comes to mind, and they still appeal to the audience emotionally.  One wonders if a more traditional set will enhance the dramatic aspect.  As performed, the surreal element also makes the drama surreal.

Car as Luisa did the best job.  Not only was her singing great, she also came across as a sympathetic character, drawing sympathy from the audience as fate eventually led her to her death.  Torre as Rodolfo had no problem with the high notes, his voice is a bit too coarse for the role. While his rendition of Quando le sere al placido was commendable, it was not as heart-wrenching as the lyrics would indicate.  And frankly his considerable size makes him an unlikely Rodolfo.  Jenis as Miller did a superb job, he actually reminded me very much of Thomas Hampson.  Sumegi, Aceto, and Pendry put in solid performances.

In addition to the solo aria, there were quite a few other solo and ensemble passages that were quite demanding, and the artists generally did well.  There is this long quartet with a few key changes, done without orchestral accompaniment – the audience sighed with relief when the correct pitch was confirmed with the orchestra’s entrance.  The best duet is the Luisa/Miller one where the father is trying to discourage the daughter from committing suicide.

Verdi put in some lovely passages for the clarinet, and they were really nice to listen to.

There is enough drama in the story to be a La Traviata, Romeo and Juliet, and Tosca (the story certainly contains elements of all three,) and there is enough great music to stir the soul, yet I walked out of the theatre wondering what the opera “could have been” (to misquote the handout.)  To add to my dissatisfaction, my expectation that opera would end with Luisa back inside the wreath didn’t happen – I thought that would complete the “dream sequence.”  The marble set did come back onto the stage, though.

Curtain Call.  The set was rotated to hang over the stage, which had barely anything on it during the performance.

Somehow much music was repeated (a few lines as many as three times), which meant a longer opera than the story would warrant.  The opera ended at around 10:30 pm (three hours) and it was past 11 pm when we got back to the apartment.

Sydney Symphony Orchestra – Vladimir Ashkenazy, conductor; Garrick Ohlsson, piano. February 10, 2016.

Concert Hall at Sydney Opera House.  Circle (Seat Q19, A$119.)

Program: Ashkenazy’s Beethoven Celebration – Beethoven Triumphant

Piano Concerto No. 5 in E flat, Op. 73 (Emperor).

Symphony No. 4 in B flat, Op. 60.

This is our third concert during our trip, and the second all-Beethoven program.  Tim and Whitney also came along.  I will leave Sydney before the third Beethoven program starts, and won’t be able to see it.  After hearing four of his symphonies, I already have them confused in my mind.  After we got back to the apartment we are sharing this week, Tim put on the 4^th Symphony again, and I wasn’t quite sure what it was.  A bit embarrassing, and a bit worrisome.  And that is one reason why I am staying up trying to record my thoughts on the performance, before I forget them.

We have heard Ohlsson several times before, and I always think of him as a solid technician not given to emotional flourishes.  Those attributes should serve him well with the Emperor, given its technical demands and grandiose design.  Ohlsson came through as he made the whole thing look easy.  While it may not be as frequent as Tchaikovsky, Beethoven tends to let the same themes permeate throughout the movement.  Played well, the concerto takes the audience on a majestic ride along the way; otherwise it may sound like a lot of repetitions.  To me there are times the piece sounded repetitious.  No doubt the complaint of a child during the performance contributed a bit to my lack of focus; that’s just too bad.

Garrick Ohlsson at curtain call.  Presenting a bouquet to the artist seems to be a common practice, except in the US.

The three movements of the concerto are Allegro; Adagio un poco mosso – Rondo (Allegro).  There was no break between the second and the third movements.  After the first movement there was a long pause so late-comers could be seated, which also disrupted the flow of the piece.

We also attended the pre-concert talk, given by SSO’s assistant conductor Toby Thatcher.  There were several interesting things he said (some may be reminders).  Beethoven had started on his fifth symphony when the commission for a new symphony came in, and that’s how the fourth was born.  The second movement’s introductory piano notes are the same as a tune in West Side Story – Anne got that while listening to the performance, I didn’t.  He also mentioned for those who think Beethoven can’t write a tune, Symphony No. 4 would be a counterexample.  I don’t think Beethoven had any problems with writing melodies, but if I did, I wouldn’t use this symphony to disprove it.  For some reason the audience chose to applaud after every movement.  A similar thing happened before when this symphony was played in New York, perhaps there is a tradition I didn't know about?

It was a delightful symphony.  For one that is supposedly not played that often, I have heard it quite a few times the last few years.  Tim claims this is his favorite Beethoven symphony.  The four movements are Adagio – Allegro vivace, Adagio, Allegro vivace – Trio (Un poco meno allegro), and Allegro ma non troppo.

A couple of remarks about the orchestra.  First, for all the complaints about New York Philharmonic's horn section (usually about how loud it is,) it is way better than the unsteady and unrefined horns we saw tonight.  Also, the principal bassoon is a guest, I suppose that means he is here auditioning for the job.  I would suggest the orchestra casts its net a bit wider.

We again stopped by Burger King to buy a sandwich to eat on the way home.

Opera Australia – Bizet’s The Pearlfishers. February 9, 2016.

Joan Sutherland theatre, Sydney Opera House.  Circle (Seat L32, A$99).

Story.  See previous post.

Conductor – Guillaume Tourniaire; Zurga – Jose Carbo, Nadir – Pavol Breslik, Nourabad – Daniel Sumegi, Leila – Ekaterina Siurina.

We saw a Met production of this opera about 3 weeks ago, and thought it would be interesting to see this in Sydney and compare the two, perhaps determining if my saying “they should go out more” has any truth to it or is just what a snob would say.

I saw this in Sydney more than 10 years ago (before my blogging days).  In discussions with Wendy – my nephew’s wife – who saw a different performance during the same season, we were both puzzled by the implied homosexual relationship between Zurga and Nadir.  Anne and I went to the pre-concert talk, by one of Opera Australia’s directors (not for this performance), who confirmed that there were more layers in the love triangle in the plot for the last production.  For this season they used the version believed to be closest to Bizet’s original, and that nuance would not be there.  That at least explained my puzzlement when I was seeing the Met performance.

The other point the speaker bragged about was that the Pearlfishers has been in OA’s standard repertory for the last 30 to 40 years while the Met has it on this season after about 100 years.  I have to give credit to the choice of operas by OA.  We will see Luisa Miller on Thursday, and I have not seen it performed anywhere else.  There are other operas that I first got to see in Sydney also: The Turk in Italy, or La Sonnambula, for instance.

Being the first doesn’t necessarily mean being the best, however.  I will get to the details later, but in nearly every aspect this performance fell short of the one at the Met.  I often joke that I am not a food connoisseur, and thus assign grades of B+ to the best and B- to the worst.  With music I can assign a grade of wider range – subjective, no doubt.  This is a B+ to the Met’s A.

This was a new production, and it was clear from the start that the design team wasn’t nearly as imaginative as the team at the Met.  Symmetry seems to be a big deal here, with all three sceneries (village with temple, temple close up, and Zurga’s study) neatly laid out.  And one would be hard pressed to say this is a fishing village.  There is a glimpse of an ocean in the background, but the “storm” is nothing more than some lighting/lightening flashes.

I do wonder if opera house managers talk to one another.  One would think they know their counterparts’ plans, and perhaps could discussion joint productions a little.

The performance started on an unsteady note, my remark to Anne was everything seemed a bit off.  Since this was already the seventh (if I heard correctly) time, I thought I was in for disappointment; indeed after the famous duet I had an “is that it” feeling.  As in the Met performance, the violin passage introducing Leila was botched.  Things improved a lot as the show went on, I especially enjoyed Nadir’s solo towards the end of Act 1.  Nadir ended up doing quite well, one problem was his voice was weak in comparison to Leila, so he was overwhelmed in some of the duet passages.  Zurga was a solid performer.  The orchestra, however, never came to its own and sounded just like an uncertain accompanist most of the time.  Not for lack of trying on the conductor’s part, his movements were among the most exaggerated I have come across.

As I mentioned before, we got to the venue early to hear a talk on the opera.  Perhaps I can be a bit boastful and say I knew most of what the speaker had to say, with the exception of the principals for tonight’s performance – not having bought the program, I knew nothing about any of the artists.  In this opera the priest’s role is divided into two: a mercenary part who takes in money (and does the singing), and a religious part represented by a guru-like character.  I don’t understand it, and I am sure it added at best a touch of silliness to the story.

There were enough empty seats for this performance that we managed to move up one row, and I occupied Seat K28 for the duration.

Curtain with set for Act 3 in the background.  The little blue patch seen through the arch is the ocean.

In the rush to get to the venue, we only had time for a sandwich between the two of us.  On our way back we shared a Whopper meal as we walked back to Walsh Bay.

Sydney Symphony Orchestra – Vladimir Ashkenazy, conductor. February 6, 2016.

Concert Hall at Sydney Opera House.  Circle (Seat W34, A$91.50).

Program: Ashkenazy’s Beethoven Celebration – Beethoven Alive

Symphony No. 1 in C, Op. 21

Symphony No. 8 in F, Op. 93

Symphony No. 7 in A, Op. 92

We will be in Sydney for about two weeks.  During this time Ashkenazy, who used to lead the SSO, will be conducting a series of three all-Beethoven concerts.  We had already bought tickets for the second program (Emperor Concerto and Symphony No. 4), and the last in the series will happen after we return to New Jersey.  Today’s concert was the day after we arrived at Sydney, and I wasn’t sure Anne and I would be in any shape to go.  Turns out we would end up spending most of the morning in this part of town, so Anne and I decided to walk to the Opera House and see if any tickets were available.  Not wanting to pay A$145 per ticket, we got non-adjacent seats for A$89 each (plus a A$5 service charge.)  Anne had a seat in Row Y, which is the last row in the hall.

The acoustics were actually very good.  While the music sounded distant, by-and-large we could hear the individual parts clearly.  Today’s concert was also well-attended, there were only scattered empty seats here or there.

For the record, the movements of the symphonies are: Symphony 1 (i) Adagio molto – Allegro con brio, (ii) Andante cantabile con moto, (iii) Menuetto (Allegro molto e vivace), and (iv) Adagio – Allegro molto e vivace; Symphony 8 (i) Allegro vivace e con brio, (ii) Allegretto scherzando, (iii) Tempo di menuetto, (iv) Allegro vivace; Symphony 7 (i) Poco sostenuto – Vivace, (ii) Allegretto, (iii) Presto, (v) Allegro con brio.

The instrumentation for all three symphonies were identical (or very similar), although smaller string sections were used in Symphony No.1 (4 basses instead of 6, for instance.)

My first reaction is three Beethoven symphonies in one concert works out much better than three Mozart symphonies.  I had a much easier time with focusing today than I remember of the one New York Phil all-Mozart concert, despite my jet-lagged state.

I have observed multiple times before that Beethoven’s first symphony has a lot of Mozart elements in it: the relatively simple structure, the many repeated notes are two obvious examples.  Symphonies 7 and 8 were composed at around the same time (1812), and are more readily identified as “mature” Beethoven.  Having the three of them in the same program drives home the contrast.

The other thing that was somewhat surprising is how similar the three third movements sounded like.  As far as I could tell, they were all in Minuet and Trio format, played at a brisk pace.  Each of them when played as part of one symphony would sound fresh enough to feel like a completely different invention.

While all three symphonies are performed often enough that I am quite familiar with them, the second movement of the 7^th is well-known from its use in the film Immortal Beloved.  I have always thought of that as a dirge that ends on a (relatively) positive note.  The Program Notes, however, makes the interesting case that this movement, being Allegretto, is “post-funeral” and is elevated to a dream-like consciousness, freed of earthly shackles.

Another interesting aspect about the 7^th I learned from the Program Notes is Beethoven’s treatment of harmony, where keys of A, C and F are in contention.  Having read this before hearing the music, I tried to see how much of the “contention” I could get.  Indeed I could sense that different keys were at play here, I couldn’t tell if the “foreign” ones were C or F.  I have a reasonably good ear, but I can’t tell if C and F were the ones trying to elbow in the music or not.

Overall this was a very enjoyable concert, although I thought the SSO didn’t quite get to its usual level of excellence: among other things, the horns were sometimes unsteady, and the strings could be more together.  The ovation given afterwards was heart-felt and prolonged.

I knew Ashkenazy as a pianist, and indeed owned a few CDs with him as the solo piano.  Evidently he has been conducting for about 30 years.  He is in general quite effective, often economical with his actions.

We are staying in Walsh Bay, a short walk to the Opera House.  Afterwards we met up with Tim and Whitney – also visiting Sydney – and went down to my sister’s place to have a dinner with our extended families.

New Jersey Symphony Orchestra – Jacques Lacombe, conductor. January 30, 2016.

Prudential Hall at NJPAC, Newark, NJ.  Tier 2 (Seat B101, $37.60).

Program.  Winter Festival: A Midsummer Night’s Dream

A Midsummer Night’s Dream (published 1600) by Shakespeare (1564-1616).

Incidental Music from A Midsummer Night’s Dream (overture 1826, balance 1843) by Mendelssohn (1809-1847).

Artists

The Shakespeare Theater of New Jersey, Bonnie J. Monte, director.

Montclair State University Prima Voce, Heather J. Buchanan, director.

Karen Levandoski, soprano; Lisa Andreacchi, mezzo-soprano.

Story.  The Program Notes divides the story into three section.  (I) The Royals and the Lovers.  This is the story about Thesus (Duke of Athens) and Hippolyta (Queen of Amazon) who are about to get married.  Separately, Hermia’s father Egeus wants her to marry Demetrius.  Hermia loves Lysander and wants to elope with her, and Helena loves Demetrius.  The Fairies play a trick and all the relationships get mixed up.  Eventually Puck, henchman for Oberon the King of Fairies, restores the relationships, and all three couples get married.  (II) The Mechanicals.  Several workers of Athens, led by Peter Quince, want to perform for the Duke on his wedding day.  When they rehearse in the woods, the Fairies also play a plank on them, with Puck replacing Nick Bottom’s head with that of a donkey.  Titania, Queen of the Fairy, awakes and, through a spell cast by Oberon, falls in love with Bottom.  They are eventually released from their spells, with Bottom thinking it was only a dream.  The Mechanicals perform the play for the Duke and the Duchess.  (III) The Fairies.  Titania and Oberon argue because Titania refuses to give Oberon a changeling boy.  This causes Oberon to cast a spell on Titania which causes her to fall in love with the donkey-headed Bottom, asking her fairies to wait on him.  Oberon takes possession of the changeling, and releases Titania from the spell.  They also go to the wedding.

I got tickets to this concert because I couldn’t make one I already had tickets for, and I was running out of available concerts (and free days) to switch to.  And given our recent situation (travel, and staying in Jersey City a lot), I didn’t have time to find out what the concert was about.  All I knew was it was something about Midsummer Night’s Dream, as part of NJ Symphony’s Winter Festival.

What we read in the Program Notes certainly was quite interesting.  This is going to be an abridged version of Shakespeare’s play performed together with Mendelssohn’s music.  The Program Notes has one of the most sensible synopsis I have read about the play, of course that the three storylines are connected and intertwined in the play makes following along a bit difficult.  Add to this the difficulty I have understanding Shakespearean English, I could only grasp so much of the story, luckily enough that I had a general idea of what was going on.

Mendelssohn first wrote the overture when he was 17, and he completed the rest another 17 years later.  It would be interesting to see how Mendelssohn matured in the intervening years, but to me there wasn’t much of a “style” change at all (of course he could have revised his overture.)

Most of the time the orchestra was quiet when there was dialogue, and vice versa – although there are some occasional exceptions.  Since the orchestra took up most of the stage, the actors only had a “stage” with a 10-foot depth to work with (it’s wide enough, of course.)  There wasn’t much scenery (a couple of benches, a make-shift curtain), but the actors did wear costumes.  The actors wore mikes, our being in Tier 2 sometimes made it difficult to tell who was doing the speaking.

Although I really can’t assess how well the play went, nor could I listen to the orchestra attentively with all the action on stage, this was an overall pleasant experience.  Calling this a new art form may be too much, as both the music and play (perhaps too abridged) are standard repertoire.  The Program Notes doesn’t quite know what to call it either: “meld” and “artistic product” are two terms used to describe it.

The event was sparsely attended, which was too bad.  Out of the 10 or rows in tier 2, there were only enough people to fill two.  To be fair (to the empty seats?), we weren't planning to go originally either.  With an intermission, the concert lasted 2 ½ hours.

New York Philharmonic – Juanjo Mena, conductor; James Ehnes, violin. January 27, 2016.

David Geffen Hall at Lincoln Center.  Orchestra (Seat U108, $69.50.)

Program

Violin Concerto in D major, Op. 61 (1806) by Beethoven (1770-1827).

Symphony No. 6 in A major (1879-81, ed. L. Nowak, 1952) by Bruckner (1824-96).

The first thing one notices about the program is its length.  A 45-minute first half, and a full hour for the second half.  While it doesn’t come close to the length of most operas, it is still a program that requires considerable stamina, both of the artists and of the audience.

In reading the Playbill, I found out two things about the Beethoven violin concerto that I didn’t know before.  One is that Beethoven actually transcribed it into a piano concerto a year after the concerto’s premiere, the other is that Beethoven actually studied the violin and was an orchestral violist.

To me the most amazing part about the concerto is how a brilliant composition was achieved with mostly scales and arpeggios.  The elegantly dressed (black tie formal) Ehnes - with his erect stance, attacking the piece with great precision – would be how one would envision a performance of the concerto.  Overall it was a good experience, although there were a few intonation problems, quite inexplicable as they occurred during the relatively slow passages.  Otherwise he had no problems with the technique required, including the many fast double stop passages.  His violin (the “Marsick” Stradivarius of 1715) makes a good sound, although it didn’t carry as well as I thought most Strads would, and we were in the middle of the orchestral section.

A Bruckner Symphony asks a lot of the orchestra and the audience.  Today it was especially so since we just sat through a long violin concerto.  The roughly 1 hour long piece consists of four movements (i) Majestos (Majestic); (ii) Adagio: Sehr feierlich (very solemn); (iii) Scherzo: Nicht schnell (Not fast) – Trio: Langsam (Slow); and (iv) Finale: Bewegt, doch nicht zu schnell (Moving, but not too fast.)  The movements are approximately 15, 20, 10 and 15 minutes in length.

My encounter with Bruckner has been limited, and this is the first time I heard this relatively obscure sixth symphony.  While it has definite Bruckner elements (think Philip Glass’s slow build up but with a much richer texture), I must say I would have a hard time identifying as Bruckner other than by a process of elimination (not Beethoven, not Brahms, not Dvorak, etc.)

The other interesting aspect of Bruckner is that his works were subject to extensive revisions, many times by others.  It is generally agreed that this symphony exists only one authentic manuscript (to quite the Program Notes.)

I still remember how impressed I was when I heard Zubin Mehta’s performance of Bruckner’s 8^th.  This one did not nearly rise to that level.  While tonight’s music was enjoyable, I couldn’t quite get the story behind it.  I last listened to this symphony three years ago (also the last series by the New York Philharmonic, conducted by Eschenbach) and characterized it as “very loud.”  While tonight’s doesn’t fall into that category, it is still amazing the sound one could achieve with a rather traditional ensemble – the timpani is the only percussion.

Overall I felt this was a good concert, though not an inspired one.  I do wonder if the length of the program asks too much of everyone involved, though.  We saw Mena conduct a year ago, interestingly I also considered that concerto one that didn’t quite live up to its full potential.

The New York Timesreview was unusal in that the reviewer compares this concert with a concert at Carnegie Hall by the Philadelphia Orchestra, conducted by Nezet-Sequin.  While the review about the Philharmonic was mostly positive, it pales in comparison to what the reviewer thought of Philadelphia.  Oh well …

Earlier today, I received an email announcement that Jaap van Zweden will be the orchestra’s next music director, succeeding Alan Gilbert.  Van Zweden currently leads both the Hong Kong Philharmonic and the Dallas Symphony.  I wonder if he would relinquish both posts to take up this new one.

Orchestre National de France – Daniele Gatti, conductor; Alexandre Tharaud, piano. January 24, 2016.

Symphony Hall, Boston.  Orchestra (Seat CC33, $71.50).

Program

Prelude a lapres-midi d’un faune by Claude Debussy.

Piano Concerto No. 23 in A Major, K.488 by Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart.

Symphony No. 5, Op. 64 by Pyotr Ilyich Tchaikovsky.

We decided to come up to Boston for our granddaughter’s birthday after our Hong Kong trip.  I looked around and found discount tickets on Goldstar for this concert.  It would be interesting to see a new orchestra, and to visit Symphony Hall again.  After church we had lunch with the Tsai’s before Joe dropped us off at the venue.

The short Debussy piece put the concert on a good footing.  Our seats did not afford us views of the back of the orchestra, but the soloist came through nice and clear.  Program Notes on this piece keep talking about a ballet associated with the music, but I have trouble picturing what it would be like, other than a fawn jumping around on a meadow as it blows on a pan flute.

The Mozart concerto was pleasant to listen to, with a good give-and-take between the soloist and the orchestra.  As usual, I can’t tell if this is a “good” or a “great” performance.  The interesting thing is both the soloist and the conductor needed the music in front of them.  (Gatti didn’t need the score for the other two pieces.)  The three movements are Allegro, Adagio, and Allegro assai.

In my prior encounters with Tchaikovsky’s Fifth I have come away with different feelings: gloom and doom at times, a ray of home at other times.  Today’s performance is more in the latter category.  While this was competently performed, and I thoroughly enjoyed it, it wasn’t quite up to the standard of my last two, conducted by Blomstedt and Dudamel.

The programming is a bit of a head-scratcher.  Of course all three are popular pieces for the concert stage, but I can’t tell how they belong together.  And for a touring French orchestra, one might reasonably expect the program would have a heavy French tilt; well, the soloist was French.

Gatti is Italian, and seems to be on his way up (if he isn’t there already.)  His next appointment is with the Concertgebouw Orchestra.  His movements are generally economical, at times imperceptible, yet he managed to keep the musicians together.  Most of the time anyway, things got a bit wild towards the end of the Tchaikovsky piece, which may be impossible to do anyway.

Perhaps it was the snow – NJ was hit hard, Boston had about half a foot – attendance was not great (80%, maybe?)  Anne noticed that her former colleague, now CEO of a startup biotech company, is a sponsor of this Celebrity Series.

New York City Opera Renaissance – Puccini’s Tosca. January 21, 2016.

Rose Hall at Jazz at Lincoln Center.  Orchestra (Seat A109, $85.50).

Conductor – Pacien Mazzagatti; Tosca – Latonia Moore, Cavaradossi – Raffaele Abete, Scarpia – Carlo Guelfi, Angelottiii – Christopher Job.

Musica Sacra, Kent Tritle, conductor

Brooklyn Youth Chorus, Dianne Berkun Menaker, Artistic Director

About 10 days ago I got an email from NYCO Renaissance announcing that NYCO had come out of bankruptcy (about 3 years ago) and it would be staging Tosca later that month.  They were also offering half price tickets.  Since the start time was a bit early at 7 pm, Anne couldn’t make it.

The announcement made a big deal out of the production set and costumes would hark back to the premiere of the opera in Rome in 1900.  Indeed when the curtain first opened, the audience applauded as it was greeted by a rather elaborate set depicting the interior of a cathedral.  On closer inspection, many corners seemed to have been cut: the walls shook when people walked on them, the water colors were hastily done; nonetheless, this was not the typical austere staging that I was expecting.  The costumes were also period, although they looked more French than Italian – of course the setting was the Napoleonic era, so perhaps the French were everywhere.

The auditorium was quite small, seating around 1100 people, and to my disappointment was still sparsely occupied at 5 minutes to curtain.  When I discovered that my seat in the first row, I was tempted to get one of the many empty seats, but then decided it might be fun to be up close.  Turns out it was also in the center, I could have easily reached the conductor’s head.  I had a great view of the action on stage; the downside is I had to try hard not to make a sound.  The other thing I noticed was people were quite well dressed: many suits and ties.

To this amateur music critic, the performance was uniformly excellent.  Being close to the stage helped, and the small auditorium certain made acoustics a non-issue.

The comedic nature of the opera is often overlooked as the audience anticipates the deaths that are to come.  To their credit the artists made the audience laugh on many occasions, I chuckled when Cavaradossi, at Tosca’s insistence, dabbed dark paint on the eyes of the portrait he was working on.  One other thing of note was the execution was carried out with a single pistol, instead of the oft-employed firing squad.  Actually that would make the whole “fake scene” more believable.  Come to think of it, the Tosca we saw in Australia also used a pistol, although in that case the strange staging was the most prominent aspect.

The singing was good.  Moore had sung several roles at the Met, and she certainly had a beautiful and strong voice.  With a permanent scrawl on her face, her acting skills could use some coaching.  “Visse arte” usually starts in a wistful manner; she started out forte and ended fortissimo.  It actually worked as the Act ends with Tosca stabbing Scarpia to death.  The other principals all did a great job.  Scarpia could have been more sinister, though.

We saw a Met production a few months back, and in my opinion there isn’t that much daylight separating the two.  The only noticeable different is Tosca leapt out of a tower in full view in the Met performance.  I will look for a review later, but I would characterize this a success (if attendance isn’t a factor in the evaluation.)  I do wonder if it is wise to throw so much money into this, given the precarious financial situation the company no doubt is in.  Of course, if this doesn’t go well, then there is no future anyway.

The review in the New York Times, with its “wait-and-see” attitude, doesn’t bode well for this renaissance.  The reviewer also had a lot to say about the singers (different cast) and the conductor.  He obvious approaches opera differently than I do.

I got to Time Warner quite late, and the long lines at Whole Food Market meant I had only time for a sandwich.  Given the short intermissions, I was back in Jersey City at around 10:30 pm.

Metropolitan Opera – Bizet’s Les Pecheurs de Perles. January 20, 2016.

Metropolitan Opera at Lincoln Center.  Balcony (Seat B114, $147.50.)

Story.  Zurga is elected the leader of his fishing village.  His childhood friend Nadir returns and they renew their friendship.  The two had a fallout because they fell in love with the same Hindu priestess.  Leila, whose identity is hidden behind a veil, comes to the village to help calm the seas.  Nadir recognizes Leila as the priestess he used to love, and the two meet illicitly.  When the two are discovered, Zurga, not knowing Leila’s identity, first sentences them to death but then relents.  When Leila’s veil is torn off, Zurga becomes upset and decrees the two should die.  As Zurga struggles with his decision after he has calmed down, Leila comes to see him to beg for mercy, which he refuses as he is jealous of Nadir.  As Leila is led away, she gives a pearl to a young diver to return to her mother.  It turns out Leila saved Zurga as a child and gave Leila this necklace in appreciation.  As the villagers prepare to burn the couple to death, Zurga sets the village on fire and tells the villagers that they must go back to save their belongings.  He stays behind after he frees Leila and Nadir.

Conductor – Gianandrea Noseda; Zurga – Mariusz Kwiecien, Nadir – Matthew Polenzani, Leila, Diana Damrau.

I saw this opera in Australia many years ago, before my blogging days.  Every now and then I would hear “the duet” broadcast on classical stations, and wonder why I have not had a chance to see it.  This performance was the Met’s 10^th performance in its entire history, and the Playbill gives various reasons why the opera is more popular than it should be.  Some attribute it to the thin story line, some to Bizet being “accused” of copying other composers (Wagner, for instance.)

First, I am glad we caught it.  We came back from Hong Kong the day before, after a 15-hour flight made more unbearable by delays due to problems in the luggage hold, and being completely packed.  Yet I stayed quite awake, and so did Anne.  That the opera is short helps – it’s about two hours, plus an intermission.  Also, the three top singers did an overall superb job. Polenzani put in a great performance, his voice projecting clearly and urgently all the time.  Kwiecien as Zurga was dependable.  The slight disappointment is Damrau didn’t do as well as thought she could.  On a few occasions she seemed unsteady.

The orchestra music was generally pleasant and supported the story well.  While the tunes may not be as catchy as those in Carmen, but there are many enjoyable solos, duets, and choral numbers.  I do think the violin passage introducing Leila in Act 1 was horribly botched.  The orchestra is on the small side.

Bizet had the opera setting in Ceylon (Sri Lanka) around 1800 (perhaps), but the producers have chosen to leave the time undefined, and the location as simply a village in the Far East.  I always scratch my head when people do that, particularly so in this case as it can be assumed very few people have seen this opera before.  If one is to be sensitive, won’t all the references to Brahma and Shiva offend some people?  One could also argue the costumes would insult an entire region, if one is so inclined.  And in Act 3 we have this specter of an old black and white TV (which turned on for a few seconds) and a laptop.

However, there is a lot to be said about the set design.  When the opera began, bubbles were projected onto a mesh screen behind which are people on harnesses masquerading as divers, to good effect.  The village, with houses and piers on stilts over a bay, looks realistic.  The small houses in the back are there probably as a perspective trick, but fool no one.  Interesting, they have divers emerging from the sea and climbing into boats.  The waves probably were undulating cloth, but the effect was quite magical.

This must be one of the longest New York Times reviews ever written.  Other a few remarks about the shortcomings of the work, he proceeds to describe the story in detail, sings praises to the production team, the solosist, the chorus, and the conductor.  Evidently Bizet wasn't sure how this story ends is satisfactory, the reviewer's response is this Met performance will remove any doubts he might have.

Turns out during on upcoming trip to Australia this opera will be staged at the Sydney Opera House.  We will probably get tickets to see how different the two companies approach this.

We had to rush into the city, I ate a burger before I met up with Anne at the Jersey City PATH station, she bought a sandwich at the venue.

New York Philharmonic – Alan Gilbert, conductor; Joshua Bell, violin. December 30, 2015.

David Geffen Hall at Lincoln Center, Orchestra (Seat S106, $69.50).

Program

The Swan of Tuonela, Op. 22, No. 2 (from the Lemminkainen Suite) (1895, rev. 1897, 1900) by Sibelius (1865-1957).

Symphony No. 4 in A minor, Op. 63 (1910-11) by Sibelius.

Concerto in E minor for Violin and Orchestra, Op. 64 (1844) by Mendelssohn (1809-47).

Finlandia, Op. 26, No. 7 (1899-1900) by Sibelius.

Tonight’s attendance was very good, with only a few scattered empty seats here and there.  Joshua Bell and the Mendelssohn violin concerto probably had a lot to do with it.

Gilbert talked a bit about the program, describing how his stint as Music Director in Sweden gave him a special appreciation of Sibelius.  New York Philharmonic will be doing a lot of Sibelius this season.  Which made me wonder why they decided to pick the violin concerto of Mendelssohn over that of Sibelius.  The concert would at least be unique in the sense that I have never been to an all-Sibelius program, if memory serves.  Of course an all-Sibelius program might drive the audience to drink afterwards …

This was the third time I heard The Swan of Tuonela, all performed by New York Philharmonic.  I still remember scratching my head the first time I heard it, and appreciating it more on the second hearing.  While I didn’t remember the music, and I couldn’t picture consistently the scenes it was describing, I am sure I enjoyed it this time even more than the second time.  There was much clarity in how the solo passages (by the English horn, the cello, the violin, and others) relate to one another and to the orchestra.  To quote the Program Notes, “a spirit of resignation pervades the movement, a sense of gravity, of tender melancholy, of hushed wonder at the desolation of this frigd underworld.”  The music was sad enough, but I wouldn’t go that far. Too bad I didn’t catch the “col legno” passage, that would have been interesting.

Sibelius developed a throat tumor in 1908 which was removed after 14 operations, and he gave up alcohol and tobacco for the next seven years.  Whether he was trying to come to terms with his mortality, or felt miserable because of abstinence, his fourth symphony is described by Gilbert as “deeply pessimistic and profoundly tragic.” Add this to Sibelius’s reputation, and one would imagine this would lead the listener to great despair.  I found the music to be introspective, ruminating, and melancholic.  However, one has to look elsewhere if one wants to really experience any dark superlatives.  For that, I suggest Tchaikovsky’s Pathetique, or several of Mahler’s works.  I do wonder if this depends on how it is played.

The Symphony is easy to get, and to like.  It has the characteristic that every movement ends on a quiet note.  The four movements are (i) Tempo molto moderato, quasi adagio; (ii) Allegro molto vivace; (iii) Il tempo largo; and (iv) Allegro.

In contrast, Mendelssohn’s violin concerto was a celebration of art and life through the violin.  Joshua Bell’s violin always sounded great, and today he put it to great use.  I often complained about his intonation problems; today they were minor and few.  The soloist and the orchestra just carried on a lovely conversation throughout the three movements, played without a break.  Bell played his own cadenza.

I didn’t know Finlandia started its life as music to accompany a program put out by the Finnish press as a protest to Russian crackdown of newspapers.  It was adopted from the concluding movement “Finland Awakes.”  While it is not the national anthem of the country, it seems to have the same effect on its people as Verdi’s “Va, pensiero” has on Italians.  It is just a stirring piece of music, with a nice melody in the middle, that is easy to like.  And the orchestra did such a rousing rendition that would undoubtedly make a Finn proud.

Afterwards I remarked that while the program wasn’t particularly long, it felt like two of them joined together.  An introspective first half contrasting well with an exuberant second half.  A great way to end our 2015 concert-going season.

The New York Times review critiques the program as timid, but otherwise has generally good things to say about the performance.  The reviewer also wonders why Sibelius’s violin concerto wasn’t programmed.

For the past week or so, our children and grandchildren were spending a lot of time at our house.  While we treasure get-togethers like this, the result was I didn’t have the opportunity to read up on the program notes until the day before.  We also had a somewhat circuitous way to get to Lincoln Center.  I drove a car to the East Side so our son could get back to our house.  I had a lot of time on my hands, and it was unseasonably warm at 60s, so I took a leisurely walk to Lincoln Center, enjoying some of the holiday sights along the way – Saks Fifth Avenue had an impressive light show.  Anne spent the day in Jersey City, then got to the city via PATH and MTA.  We had a simple meal at the neighborhood pizzeria before the concert.  Afterwards we took the train back to South Amboy, getting back around midnight.

New York Philharmonic – Jane Glover, conductor. December 16, 2015.

David Geffen Hall at Lincoln Center.  Orchestra 2 Left (Seat V13, $64.35).

Program

Handel’s Messiah

Artists

Heidi Stober, soprano; Tim Mead, countertenor; Paul Appleby, tenor; Roderick Williams, baritone.

Westminster Symphonic Choir, Joe Miller, director.

Continuo: Eric Bartlett, cello; Timothy Cobb, bass; Karin Bliznik, trumpet; Paolo Bordignon, harpsichord; Ken Tritle, organ.

We have attended several Messiah concerts before.  Since we are now staying at Jersey City, and Goldstar had tickets on sale, we thought we would take the opportunity to go.  By now I can say I am reasonably familiar with how the oratorio came to be, how it is structured, and most of the numbers.  Of course I don’t know the music enough to know what edition the performance is using; the Playbill lists the Oxford University Press edition as the one being used.

Overall it was a very enjoyable performance.  If I were honest, I must say I usually can’t keep my full concentration for the 2-plus hour performance.  Tonight I was very attentive throughout; I didn’t doze off at all, and rarely lost my concentration.  This is particularly remarkable as I felt very tired earlier in the day.  The negative comments below are just reflections on the blemishes on an otherwise great evening.

I was quickly taken with how well the choir sang.  The many sixteenth note runs were done with clarity and precision, not easy for a 60-plus ensemble.

Of the soloists, I though Williams did the best.  He was forceful where he needed to be, and clear in his delivery of the recitatives.  The countertenor part was the most disappointing.  First, I would think the part is more naturally sung by an alto.  Mead sounded unrefined and unsteady most of the time.  I first heard him in the opera “Written on Skin” this past summer, and thought his voice worked well in that context (it was the Koch Theatre, though.)  Soprano Stober’s voice carried very well, although I thought she slurred her runs noticeably, and she had this grimace on her face all the time.  Both Anne and I thought the tenor Appleby was too slow in the introductory numbers, his turned out to be a steady and dependable voice.

Bliznik was a "guest" trumpeter.  Given how great New York Philharmonic's own trumpeters are, I wonder why it was necessary.  While her sound was generally good, she was unsteady on many occasions.

From her biography, it seems Glover started off her music career more as a musicologist than a musician.  Over the years she has conducted this piece about 100 times, so it is not unexpected that she didn’t need the score.  She was quite deliberate in how the lines were to be formed, and seemed to get what she wanted from the musicians.  Unfortunately, the only “unusual” aspect of tonight’s performance was how the “like” was stressed in the phrase “all we like sheep.”  The word is not on the downbeat, and it is not the most “important” one in the phrase.  The way the choir (dutifully, no doubt) did it just sounded strange.

The New YorkTimes review was very positive.

We took the Paulus Hook ferry over to Manhattan, and had dinner at Brookfield Place before heading up to Lincoln Center.  It was a nice evening to be doing this, although I wouldn’t mind a little more nip in the air – it was around 50 degrees.

New York Philharmonic – James Gaffigan, conductor; Jeffrey Kahane, piano. December 11, 2015.

David Geffen Hall at Lincoln Center.  Orchestra (Seat Y103, $53.50).

Program

Symphony No. 4 in B-flat major, Op. 60 (1806) by Beethoven (1770-1827).

Split for Piano and Orchestra (2015) by Andrew Norman (b. 1979).

Till Eulenspiegels lustige Streiche (Merry Pranks), Op. 28 (1895) by R. Strauss (1864-194.

We got tickets to these concerts as New York Philharmonic was running a two-for-one sale.  As this was the holiday season, and the weather had been particularly warm the last few days, it wasn’t a surprise there were quite a few empty seats in the hall.  Actually given my last two Met Opera experience, I even consider the attendance good.

Of Beethoven’s nine symphonies, the fourth has to be the most unfamiliar to me.  Interestingly the last time I heard it performed by NY Phil was the last time they played it, on March 9, 2012, at NJPAC of all places.  Also, the Programs Notes for the 2012 concert talked about Beethoven not getting another commission from this Count Oppersdorf, there is no mention of that in today’s playbill.  Instead there is a brief description of the structure of the music that made the performance a bit easier to follow.  There is a 5-measure melody titled the “bassoon joke” printed in the program. While I could hear it, I wasn’t sure why it would be considered humorous, it sounded more like a technique showoff line to me.

I am not particularly bothered if after a particularly great movement an audience shows its appreciation by applauding.  But after every movement?  That is getting to be annoying.  In any case, the four movements are: Adagio – Allegro vivace, Adagio, Allegro vivace, and Allegro ma non troppo.

Till Eulenspiegel was a presumably historical figure, dating back to the early 16^th century, whose escapades made him a staple of German folklore (quoting the Program Notes.)  Many thought Strauss had wanted to write an opera based on this character, but ended up composing a symphonic poem instead.  Although Strauss refused to provide a program, many believe it consists of “Till racing on horseback through the market, Till the cavalier exchanging courtesies with beautiful girls, and so on to his inevitable arrest, trial, conviction, and hanging.”  The program makes some sense.  The music is easy enough to get, and I wonder why I don’t remember ever having heard it before.

Sandwiched between the two (relatively) obscure works is the premiere of Split, written by the 36-year old Andrew Norman.  On paper the piece sounded somewhat interesting.  I quote from the Program Notes: “Here three percussionists, playing an impressive variety of instruments (including such items as tin cans and flower pots), inject sounds that set off sudden changes of course on the part of the pianist or the other orchestral musicians. Sometimes these are pre-planned, sometimes not entirely, sometimes not at all.  The players may depart considerably from the orthodoxy of orchestral practice: wind players occasionally producing sounds by blowing air through the instruments without achieving the controlled vibration required to make defined pitches; in the string parts, individual players within the sections may intone notes in rapid succession, as if they were batting about a musical volleyball.  Gamesmanship plays an important role in the realization of this composition.”  The piece was commissioned by the New York Philharmonic, and dedicated to Jeffrey Kahane whose playing Norman describes as witty, full of vitality, and expressive.

I got very little of that.  Most of the time the piano music sounded like a skilled pianist pounding away aimlessly at the instrument.  Kahane was quite glued to the music (on a tablet) during the performance.  I wonder if at some point he felt trapped by the music, but not the way the composer intended it.  While different members of the orchestra were used for individual solo phrases, things looked well-rehearsed – no one seeing it would call it spontaneous or volley-ball like; and the changes in course were either non-existent or too subtle for me to pick out.  I wonder when the New York Philharmonic would pick up this piece again.

The couple sitting behind us showed up after the intermission.  In explaining to folks around them why they were late (no one asked as far I could tell,) they said they had no use for Beethoven, but came specifically for Norman’s piece.  True to their word, they left before the Strauss piece was performed.  Well, at least they don’t have to spend a lot of money on tickets.

Gaffigan, also around 36, conducted with a lot of energy.  Anne thought he also showed great humor when it came to Beethoven’s scherzo and finale.  After each piece he went around acknowledging every orchestra member who had a solo line – which was a lot of people.  I wonder if he is auditioning for a job.

If one doesn’t like how I described today’s concert experience, this New York Times review is unreserved in its praise of the event, the composer, the soloist, and the conductor.

We had a quick meal at Brookfield Place.  We missed the Paulus Hook to WFC ferry by less than a minute, so took the PATH over instead.

Metropolitan Opera – Puccini’s La Boheme. December 9, 2015.

Metropolitan Opera at Lincoln Center.  Orchestra (Seat AA35, $25).

Story.  See previous post.

Conductor – Paolo Carignani; Marcello – Levente Molnar, Rodolfo – Ramon Vargas, Colline – Christian Van Horn, Schaunard – Alexey Lavrov, Mimi – Barbara Frittoli, Musetta – Ana Maria Martinez.

Both Anne and I are quite sure we have seen this opera multiple times, but there is only one entry in this blog on this opera, although my first entry ever (in 2005) mentioned prior experience with La Boheme. We are quite sure this would be our first encounter with it at the Met.

And this was a great experience.  Our seats were towards the rear of the orchestra section, but we could hear the singers clearly, although several of them came across as a bit weak.  One of the “lesser characters” (I couldn’t tell if it was Colline or Schaunard) did exceptionally well.

The only name I recognize from the roster is Vargas.  He used to be a regular at the Met (we are talking perhaps more than 10 years ago) but now seems to appear less frequently.  While his voice was often weak, he certainly hit the notes accurately, and had great stage presence.  While Frittoli would never be mistaken for someone dying of tuberculosis, she managed to make Mimi fragile, resolved, and sympathetic as the opera progressed.  Musetta the flirt is oftentimes the show-stealer, with the well-known aria “Quando m’en vo” one of the more hummable tunes; tonight Martinez couldn’t quite pull that off, although she did quite well.  Marcello provided support, both in the singing and in the story.

Puccini often put the melody in the orchestra; Act 4 had a lot of passages like this with the voices in “supporting” roles.  Today that combination often came across as a bit chaotic and thus a disappointment.  Otherwise the orchestra was as superb as it was last week during Tosca.

The Franco Zeffirelli-designed set has been in use since 1981.  Acts 1 and 4 take place in the rooftop apartment (garret) occupied by the men.  It was functional, but I thought they could sacrifice a bit of perspective so more of the audience can see what is happening.  Act 3 was billed as “a toll-gate on the edge of Paris,” but I could find no evidence of that.  The softly falling snow on a slope, with an inn nearby, made for a beautiful sight though.  I am sure the Playbill author had Act 2 in mind when he/she called this a “spectacular production.”  Indeed the scenery is complicated: lots of houses, café Momus, Latin Quarter, thoroughfare, and parade route are all represented here.  To me it was simply confusing.  From where we sat it usually took a while for us to find out where the principals were singing.  All that distraction may be the reason why I didn’t find Musetta as compelling as she could be.

There are several points raised in the Playbill that I resonate a lot with.  One was how many of the melodies were built incrementally with small intervals; while one could debate whether this was really the case, there is not debate that the tunes carry some interesting yet difficult-to-pinpoint characteristics.  A second point was how masters (composers and lyricists) can weave a great masterpiece from a simple story of poverty, love, and loss.  I could wax nostalgic and say everyone is special … One new discovery (or re-discovery) for me was how at the end Rodolfo and Mimi quoted the exact words from their first encounter (“Che Gelida Manina” and “Si, mi chiamano Mimi”).  It ended the same way it began, and was very effective despite the simplicity of the conversation. (I switched to Italian subtitles towards the end, and remembered the names of the two arias in Italian.)

My last encounter with the opera was in Australia, about three years ago.  While I don’t remember the specific experience, I did say it was one of the best I have been from that company.  While I must give the nod to tonight’s performance, still Opera Australia had a lot to be proud of.

Our tickets were again rush tickets.  The attendance was quite a bit better than last week’s for Tosca.  This run began in November 23, and as of today (12/11) still has 12 more performances to go.  That is quite ambitious, even for the most staged opera in Met history.

Surprisingly, the New York Times reviewer saw the production with the same cast as we did.  Her words were quite brutal: after-thought, neither ... was able to summon it, wooden efficiency.  The blow is highlighted by the praise she heaped on the secondary actors.

Metropolitan Opera - Puccini's Tosca. December 1, 2015.

Metropolitan Opera at Lincoln Center.  Orchestra (Seat BB25, $25)

Story.  See previous post.

Conductor – Joseph Colaneri, Cavaradossi - Roberto Aronica, Tosca - Liudmyla Monastryrska, Scarpia – Marco Vratogna.

We have seen this opera twice, but not with the Met.  A check of the Met website prior to today revealed that many seats were available.  The seats assigned were towards the rear of the theater, but we moved up quite a few rows after the first act (T7).  I estimate at best a 60% occupancy, one of the lowest I have seen at the Met.

I hadn’t heard any of the headliners before, but I thought they all projected themselves very well.  The only gripe I have is everyone seemed to try to belt out their lines.  Even for a fast-paced story (the entire story basically took place in a day) there had to be some pensive and rueful moments, but one couldn’t tell from how the lines were delivered.  The well-known arias (Visse Arte, E Lucevan la stella, for instance) were all beautifully done.  I thought Monastryska had a good voice, but she could bone up on her Italian a bit. In the third act Conner Tsui sang as the shepherd.

The orchestra was superb.  Today it was more than simple background, it was an integral part of the show.

In my prior encounters with the opera, Scarpia came across as someone everybody loved to hate.  Somehow today Vratogna couldn’t generate the same level of disgust.  I still remember how powerful and ominous the Te Deum felt at the New York City Opera performance – with Scarpia scheming against sacred music in the background.

The set dates back only a few years, and is of the “realistic” type.  For some reason there was a lot of hammering on stage between acts.  In the two prior shows I saw, and also in television, Tosca commits suicide by jumping off stage.  Here she jumped from a tower in plain sight (probably with a safety harness), with stage lights out as her legs left the building.

Anne and I will be spending a lot of time in Jersey City, an easy commute into New York.  We hope to take advantage of this while we are here.