Netherlands Philharmonic Orchestra. Lorenzo Viotti, conductor. April 15, 2024.

Main Hall, Concertgebouw, Amsterdam.  Orchestra (Seat 20-23, 72.5 Euros).

Program

Mahler's Symphony No. 9.

When I booked the ticket for this concert Anne decided not to go because of her worries about jet lag and physical exertion. Jet lag has not been too difficult for either of us, and Anne felt quite good physically yesterday - our first day of arrival.  By then, however, the concert was sold out.  Before we got to Amsterdam, we didn't realize the tram stops from the hotel to the concert hall were practically door-to-door.

As I described in the last entry, I didn't feel the acoustics of the concert hall was particularly amazing.  For today's concert the orchestra sounded good enough, but the clarity I expected wasn't there.

Of course this is a difficult Mahler piece to interpret, both for the orchestra and for the listener.  What is undisputed is that this is Mahler's attempt at portraying the struggle between life and death.  By this time he had been diagnosed with an incurable heart problem, so unlike the Tragic Symphony - dark but not clear whether Mahler had specific events in his mind - death was clearly a presence throughout the ninth symphony.  Or was it?  While it is easy to argue life and death can be linked with the first and last movements, it is debatable, and often debated, what the significance of the middle movements are.

An issue of more interest to musicologists is if this is actually Mahler's tenth symphony, despite himself calling it the nineth.  He had earlier called "Das Lied von der Erde" a symphony.  He did not get to hear this symphony during his life time.  A performance can last from 75 to 90 minutes, today's was on the shorter side.

What a piece of music says depends on the artists as well as the listener.  Take the silence at the end of the first and fourth movements: does it signify nothingness, or entry into an unknown realm?  While Mahler the atheist might not have believed in a conscious afterlife, he could still be trying to portray a "circle of life" situation.  The loud passages: are they celebrations of life, or screaming at fate and the unfairness of it all (atheists still have a sense of cosmic fairness, I imagine).  The conductor did hold his position for a long time after the symphony ended, I think the tentative clapping of a few audience members finally broke the "spell."

A particular interpreter may have a specific interpretation of the piece, but should he tell the audience?  Or should it simply try to look at the piece as absolute music and let the listener extract what he wants to hear from it?

Today's performance didn't answer any of the questions I have about the piece.  A great performance would still allow the listener to construct a message.  I have been able to do so with many of Mahler's symphonies, but not tonight.  So my remark is not particularly unfair to the music director.

For completeness, the movements of the symphony are (1) Allegro comodo; (2) Im Tempo eines gemachlichen Landlers, Etwas tappisch und sehr derb; (3) Rondo-Burleske: Allegro assai. Sehr trotzig; and (4) Adagio.  Sehr langsam und noch zuruckhaltend.

Viotti is the NL Philharmonic's music director, and he is all of 34 years old.  His name may lead one to think he is Italian, but he is Swiss.

Drinks are again included with the ticket price.  Since there was no intermission, they were available after the concert as well.

Both concerts offered free drinks.  Here they are on offer after completion of the symphony as there was no intermission.

Tram No. 12 got me back to the hotel in no time.

Concertgebouw Orchestra. Emmanuelle Haim, conductor; Lenneke Ruiten, soprano. April 14, 2024.

Main Hall, Concertgebouw, Amsterdam, Netherlands.  Orchestra (Seat 13-32, 97.25 Euros).

At the conclusion of the concert.

Program

Concerto grosso in G major, op. 6, No. 1 by Handel.

Suite nr. 3 in G (from Water Music, HWV 348-350) by Handel.

Suite (from 'Dardanus') by Rameau.

Cantate 'Il delirio amoroso,' HWV 99 '(Da quel giorno fatale)' by Handel.

A program - available in Dutch only - costs 3 Euros.

We are going on a river cruise in France, and decided to tag on "pre-" and "post-cruise" visits to Amsterdam and Hamburg, partly/mostly for the opportunity to visit concert halls in the two cities.

Concertgebouw shows up in many lists as one of the top concert halls in the world, and the current NY Phil music director Jaap van Zweden started his music career as the concertmaster of the (Royal) Concertgebouw Orchestra (at age 19, the youngest ever).  For our Amsterdam stay I would attend two concerts.  Anne also came to this one, and I would come by myself to a second one.

Except for the Water Music piece, I am not familiar with the Handel pieces on today's program.  They are all accessible enough.  I was surprised at how long the cantata was, and that the soprano sang a considerable amount.

I didn't find the Rameau piece particularly interesting, that's probably due to lack of preparation on my part.

The orchestra used for the concert was small: 7 first violins, for instance, so I didn't get to hear what a full orchestra would sound like.

A performer has to walk down a stair case for the performance and the curtain call.  In this case the soprano Lenneke Ruiten.

The conductor and the soloist had to walk down a stair case, rather long at 20 to 25 steps.  For today the two women had no problem, but I can imagine some of the older performers (Mehta and Blomstedt come to mind) must dread having to come up and down, more than once because of the curtain call.  The orchestra members climb up a set of stairs to get to the podium, so there doesn't seem to be an easy way to get there.

I didn't buy a program because it costs 3 euros, and is available only in Dutch.  It did contain the lyrics translated from Italian to Dutch and Spanish (if I heard it right).  On the other hand, drinks are included in the ticket price, and there is no limit to numbers of drinks (wine, juice, and soft drinks).  The main stations were quite busy, but I came across one in the back that was quiet.

Typing this a week later, and having attended both concerts, I remember remarking to myself "what is so great about the acoustics?"  While there was nothing wrong with it, I didn't find the sound particularly clean, or the instruments (including the voice) sounding particularly refined.

The Concertgebouw is located in the museum area, right next to the van Gogh museum.

On the side are names of different composers.  The hall seats about 2,000 people.

There were a few scattered empty seats.  As I type this entry I found out I had booked seats that were one row apart (both aisle), but just assumed they were adjoining.  No one tapped on my shoulder to complain, either we lucked out, or the seat holder was polite and found another seat.

We got into Amsterdam yesterday.  This morning we visited Rijsmuseum.  I was surprisingly awake for the concert.

New York Philharmonic. Jaap van Zweden, conductor; Joseph Alessi, trombone. March 21, 2024.

David Geffen Hall at Lincoln Center.  Orchestra (Seat AA118, $70).

At the conclusion of the concert.  Notice only "traditional" instruments were used in the Scottish Symphony - not even a harp.

Program

To See the Sky: an exegesis for orchestra (2023) by Joel Thompson (b. 1988).

Trombone Concerto: Three Muses in Video Game (2021) by Tan Dun (b. 1957).

Symphony No. 3 in A minor, Op. 56, Scottish (1840-42) by Mendelssohn (1809-47).

I don't know who "estimates" how long a concert is, but 1:30 minutes is way off the mark.  The three pieces along add to 80 minutes, throw in a 20- to 30-minute intermission and we are close to two hours.  The concert concluded at 9:24 pm.

It is difficult to understand how these three pieces fit together as a program.  Joel Thompson is in his 30s, still in school (getting a doctorate at Yale).  And I suppose he is known among a lot of people in the music composition world, but not much beyond that.  Tan, on the other hand, became internationally known with the music for the movie "Crouching Tiger Hidden Dragon," that was 2000.  His history of composition started way before that.  Mendelssohn, on the other hand, was from the early nineteenth century, and his two "Scottish" compositions are part of the standard repertoire in the classical music world.

So, per my new way of thinking about performances, this concert had little chance of being a great one (again, I can name only a handful great concerts I have witnessed).  That said, the overall experience was tremendously satisfying.

With modern composers I have to use my left brain, as their compositions usually call for analysis rather than enjoyment.  The satisfaction is being able to "understand" the work in some way.  Joel Thompson certainly didn't make it easy by naming the work after a line in a song "Sometimes you have to gaze into a well to see the sky."  The logic of this escapes me, but he further explains his desire to expand beyond trauma as a Black man in this country (paraphrasing him, correctly, I hope).  Whether this work is a reflection of that, I am not sure, but he used "rhythms of his youth" with the conviction that it doesn't make the music Jazz (again a paraphrase).  I would agree that was indeed the case, and would opine that his music was accessible.  I can't quite put a label on it, but I am still puzzled how the movements can be described as I. Sometimes ... II ... you have to gaze into a well ... III ... to see the sky.

Tan's Trombone Concerto is similarly mysteriously titled.  The Program Notes contains a description of what he meant by a "muse" in a video game.  His intention in writing this was to attract young people to this genre, and he claims "through this piece I reached a lot of young people."  The three muses are muse of bili, muse of xiqin, and muse of sheng, three ancient Chinese musical instruments depicted in some Dunhuang cave paintings.  One could argue if the sounds were anything like these instruments, but I am hard pressed to associate what I heard with a video game.  My experience with video games is very limited, of course.

In all that discussion, one may forget this is a trombone concerto.  We heard Alessi recently, and this concerto also asked the trombonist to do amazing things.  One of those days I will learn about the trombone and its capabilities, but tonight's performance seemed to use only a limited number of techniques.  Yes, it is amazing such a bulky instrument can sound so agile, and how much practice it takes to get the intonation just right, at such a high speed, but that seemed to be it.  I do wonder how often a trombonist gets to be a soloist twice in a year.

The bottom line is that - to my surprise - I found the Thompson piece more enjoyable than Tan's.

Mendelssohn wrote the Fingal Cave Overture soon after he visited Scotland, and the Scottish Symphony about 10 years later.  At 40 minutes it is quite long, and one wonders occasionally if all those repeats are needed.  Overall, however, it is a delightful piece to listen to, especially when performed by a competent orchestra.  While it probably is not program music, one can easily associate with what one might expect to feel while visiting Scotland (stretching a bit here).  Scotland has its dark and stormy days, I thought there was not enough of that.  The four movements are (I) Andante con moto - Allegro un poco agitato; (II) Vivace non troppo; (III) Adagio; and (IV) Allegro vivacissimo - Allegro maestoso assai.  The program says the movements are played without pause, but there were clear pauses in today's performance.  I don't think it mattered one way or another.

Since the concert lasted about two hours, we missed the 9:38 pm train by a few minutes, and intead took the 10:23 pm train home.

Joel Thompson at the conclusion of his piece.

Joseph Alessi after performing Tan Dun's Trombone concerto.

Hoboken Children's Theater. Jungle Book Kids. March 10, 2024.

Hoboken Children's Theater.  Stalls ($5).

Anne and I drove up to see this performance.  Afterwards we spent some time in Bloomfield Street.

NYO-USA All-Stars. Yannick Nezet-Sequin, conductor; Daniil Trifonov, piano. March 14, 2024.

Isaac Stern Auditorium, Carnegie Hall.  Balcony.  (Seat H121, $44).

Nezet-Seguin and Trifonov after Gershwin's Concerto in F.

Program

Piano Concerto in F by George Gershwin (1898-1937).

Symphony No. 7 in C Major, Op. 60, "Leningrad" by Dmitri Shostakovich (1906-1975).

Artists: Alumni of the National Youth Orchestra of the United States of America

I have not had time to do a lot of research on NYO, and the description in the Playbill is quite sketchy.  It has been in existence for a little over a decade, the ensemble goes through an intensive practice during the summer, and then does a Carnegie Hall performance and an international tour.  For the current year the conductor will be Marin Alsop.  Tonight's orchestra consisted of about 100 of the alumni.  Many are now members of professional orchestras, some are associated with universities and conservatories, and several are free lance musicians.

Both the conductor and the solo pianists are of course superstars in the classical music world.  This concert would be in high demand.

Yet I got an email a couple of weeks ago saying there were still seats available, and when I checked a few days prior to the concert, sections of the balcony were completely empty.  By the time of the performance, the auditorium was pretty filled up, except for the upper balcony.

I didn't have a chance to look at the program carefully, and erroneously thought the piano concerto would be Ravel's F major.  It was only after the starting few measures that I realized it wasn't Ravel.  Gershwin of course sounded very different from Ravel, and his music has a definite American feel to it.  Scattered among the three movements were passages requiring the highest level of virtuosity, which as usual Trifonov dispatched with ease.  Most of the time it was easy to pick out the piano, but there were instances the piano was drowned out by the large orchestra.  The three movements are Allegro; Adagio - Andante con moto; and Allegro agitato.

A substantial orchestra was deployed for the piano concerto, drowning out the piano at times.

For encore Trifonov played a piece based on the popular song "When I Fall in Love."  [Note added 3/19.  Carnegie Hall now lists the encores on their webpage, indeed it was YOUNG / HEYMAN "When I Fall in Love" (arr. Bill Evans).

I heard Shostakovich's Leningrad symphony before, in 2018, performed by the NY Phil, conducted by van Zweden.  There I expressed the feeling (or tried to) that the description of the piece made it sound intriguing, but the actual music was much less so.  Tonight I got a similar feeling.  Many different interpretations of the piece were offered, mostly about whether Shostakovich was being sincere or cynical when he composed the music.  The Annotator Jack Sullivan even allowed that the current interpretation is affected by today's culture.  Which is well and good, but I have to ask how would a different culture - mainland Chinese, for instance - interpret it?  

For me the more basic question is, what did Shostakovich have in mind when he wrote this?  I find the following quote in the Program Notes, attributed to Shostakovich, puzzling: "I have nothing against calling the Seventh the 'Leningrad' Symphony, but it's not about Leningrad under siege, it's about the Leningrad Stalin destroyed and Hitler merely finished off."  Did I get the chronology wrong?  I thought Stalin was after the Nazi's.

Perhaps more encounters with this piece would make me appreciate it more.  From tonight I got to appreciate how the "invasion theme" was built up at the beginning of the movement, and how the repeated snare drum pattern reminded me of Ravel's Bolero.  The movements of the symphony are: Allegretto, Moderato (Poco allegretto), Adagio, and Allegro non troppo.

An even larger orchestra was used for the Shostakovich symphony.  Notice the much larger brass section (orchestra's rear right).  If one looks carefully, the concertmaster is switched.  As far as I could tell, the one who led the Gershwin was now sitting in the back of the second violin section.  Seating for other members were changed also.  Nezet-Seguin's shoes had soles with sequins, making a strong reflection that at times looked like small light bulbs.

Nezet-Sequin gave his all when conducting this music, I could even hear his shout at some point.  And from the balcony the orchestra movements looked quite interesting at times.

The Gershwin piece was about 30 minutes, the Leningrad 75, so with a late start and an encore the concert didn't end until 10:35 pm or so.  The 11:18 pm train got me to South Amboy after midnight; Anne picked me up.

New Jersey Symphony. Xian Zhang, conductor; Tom Borrow, piano. March 14, 2024.

NJPAC, Newark, NJ.  Orchestra (Seat H101, $46).

At the conclusion of the concert.  Notice on the far right the regular principal bass.

Program

NightVision (2001, rev. 2002) by Ludwig (b. 1974).

Piano Concerto No. 24 (1786) in C Minor, K. 491 by Mozart (1756-1791).

Symphony No. 5 in E Minor, Op. 64 by Tchaikovsky.

It was a nice spring day.  The cherry blossoms are in bloom.

The Program Notes contains much praise for the two "classical" pieces for this after (concert start 1:30 pm).  And its description of NightVision is quite interesting also.  My first thoughts were the concert had the potential of being "great," but would the NJ Symphony be able to deliver?

Ludwig's name is David Serkin Ludwig.  He is Peter Serkin's nephew, and Rudolf Serkin's grandson.  So quite a musical heritage.  He is no slouch either, as he is Dean of Music at Julliard.  (The others Deans head up dance and drama.)  This 7-minute piece was commissioned and premiered by NJ Symphony in 2001, over 20 years ago.  Per the Program Notes, the piece has quasi-minimalist, Coplandesque, Straussian, and Hollywood cinematic elements, but demonstrates Ludwig's eclectic personal musical language.  One could argue all that is true.

During the brief on-stage dialog with Zhang, Ludwig joked that he was a Julliard dropout, and he still made it as a dean at the school.  He also had the sense of humor to say something is wrong if the interview is longer than the piece itself.

As the piece was his first orchestral composition, I do question if it truly represents his musical language.  In any case, having listened to his music for all of seven minutes, I cannot tell what his language is, anyway.  The piece did not leave me scratching my head, so that's something.

Zhang and Ludwig had a brief dialog before his piece was performed.

After the performance of NightVision.

Mozart's 24th piano concerto is not that familiar to me, so it took me on a ride in directions that I didn't expect.  The Israel-born Borrow put in an excellent performance.

The Program Notes describes the opinion of a musicologist who thinks the C Minor compositions written by Mozart suggest that Mozart was severely depressed during that period.  Frankly I have my doubts.  Yes, one can convince oneself music in minor keys tends to be sad, introspective, or melancholic, the 24th certainly fits that bill, but to use that (and other pieces, I know) to make such a diagnosis is really stretching it.  If one assumes Mozart also wrote music in major keys, are we then to diagnose him with another kind of psychiatric problem?

As encore Burrow played Rachmaninoff's Prelude Op. 32, No. 2 in G sharp minor.  Probably to show off his virtuoso side.  He didn't announce the piece, so how did I find out?  I surreptitiously used the Google "Song" function.  I am impressed, both by the pianist, and by what Google can do.

Israel-born Tom Borrow was born in 2000.

The Tchaikovsky Fifth Symphony is a war horse for orchestras.  For me the notable characteristic is the use of the same opening theme in all the four movements, a practice not common among composers or in their compositions. It was many many years ago, but I still consider among the live performances I heard the one Blomstedt did with the NY Phil in 2012 is the best one I have heard. With passage of time, the specifics that I enjoyed - apart from the notes I took - have faded.  The one characteristic that still stands out was Blomstedt allowing the orchestra to let loose; instead of sounding chaotic, the music felt like horses galloping forward with abandon.  Will Zhang execute a controlled performance, or will she let the orchestra run on its own.  We are talking about the NJ Symphony, so I do worry what would happen if the members are given the "fire at will" command.  It turned out to be a controlled, but also enjoyable, performance.

While the concert didn't turn out to be "great," but it was memorable.  And how many "great" concerts can one expect to encounter anyway.  (Right now Mehta's performances of the Bruckner and Mahler Symphonies, and the Blomstedt one discussed here, are the three that readily come to mind.)

NJPAC really needs to get its act together.  Last time, with Joshua Bell, getting the audience seated took a long time.  It was a full house, so may be understandable (still not excusable).  Today's turnout was reasonable, but it wasn't until 1:40 pm that the audience began to settle down.  Some suggestions: start the process earlier, print the door number on the ticket, or make it easier to move from one aisle to the other.  Also, the customer sometimes can be right.  There was this lady whose seat is in the middle, perhaps one or two seats closer to the other door.  The usher insisted she go back, and enter through the "proper" door.  There was perhaps one person in that row, so it would be easy enough.  The lady just ignored the usher and took her seat.  All that time people were waiting to have the usher make sure they "belong."

Rosamunde String Quartet. Bejamin Hochman, piano. March 10, 2024.

Town Hall, NYC.  Auditorium.  (Seat N117, $15.45)

Program

String Quartet in C Major, Op. 20, No. 2 (1772) by Haydn (1792-1809).

String Quartet No. 3 (1927) by Bartok (1881-1945).

Piano Quintet in E-flat Major, Op. 44 (1842) by R. Schumann (1810-1856).

At the end of the concert.  Bendix-Balgley, Hochman, Yao, Vickery and Li.

Quartet: Noah Bendix-Balgley and Shanshan Yao, violins; Teng Li, viola; Nathan Vickery, cello.

This is another concert in the PSC series that I subscribed to for the season.  Even in my jag-lagged state (I returned from a 3+ week trip to Australia and Asia the day before), it had to be one of the more enjoyable and well-performed concerts I have attended.

As I have stated many times before, I am not a chamber music person.  It's counterintuitive that four or five lines of music are more difficult to follow than the many sections in a symphony orchestra.  My brain and my ears are just not tuned that way.

Today, however, the lines were clear, the interplay easy to appreciate, and the overall effect was simply magnificent (getting carried away there a bit).

For the Haydn piece Yao had the first violin, and for Bartok it was Bendix-Balgley.  As Bendix-Balgley explained after the first piece, the Haydn piece is a delight, the Bartok piece runs the gamut of folk music to (close to) rock and roll, and Schumann's composed during his chamber music period, and is a prime example of music from the Romantic period.  I didn't need more description than that today.

All the musicians play (or played) in world-renown orchestras.  Bendix-Balgley is a first concertmaster at Berlin Philharmonic, Teng Li the principal violist at LA Phil, and Vickery the youngest cellist hired by NY Phil.  (And what is the difference between a concertmaster and a first concertmaster?)

My usual complaint about not being able to hear the viola wasn't a problem today.  Perhaps there were fewest lines to follow, or perhaps Li simply projected well.  Indeed, sometimes I thought the viola was too loud.  For the Schumann piece I wish the piano was louder, as it was it sounded like it was background oftentimes.  Make no mistake though: today's was a great concert.

As usual, I sat in the back (Row R) so I could make a quick getaway at the end to catch the 4:07 pm train home.

The train timetables are such I got into NY before 1 pm, so I decided to take walk (all the way to 3rd Avenue) to get my steps in.  I was surprised how much homelessness I encountered along the way.

Opera Australia. Mozart's The Magic Flute. February 14, 2024.

Joan Sutherland Theatre, Sydney Opera House.  Circle (Seat J35, A$193.95).

At curtain call.  There was no costume change except for the last scene, so I can't tell them apart.  My attempt: From left: the three spirits, Papageno, Papagena, Pamina, Conductor, Tamino, Sarastro, Queen, three ladies, two priests.  Note also very few people had shoes on.

They used to just distribute one sheet with the synopsis, and would not specify beyond their names who the singers are.  Today something close to pamphlets were handed out.

Story.  See previous post.  I must say the story is still a bit confusing after having seen this opera a few times already.  But I am getting there.

Conductor - Tahu Matheson.  Pamina - Stacey Alleaume; Tamino - Michael Smallwood; Papageno - Ben Mingay; Queen of the Night - Giuseppina Grech; Sarastro/Speaker - David Parkin; Papagena - Jennifer Black; Monostatos - Kanen Breen.

If I had paid more attention, I probably would have known the opera would be sung in English.  Since I didn't, that was the first surprise.  The second surprise was something close to a program was handed out.  In the past there were these one sheet handouts with the synopsis being the useful information.  There were no listing of the cast (I believe their names were mentioned), orchestra, and other production members.  In today's program all their names were listed, together with short descriptions.  There were a few advertisements, and appeals for donations, which are to be expected.

The sets (or rather "set") were surprisingly simple.  The best way I could explain it would be it's a general purpose "room" with three doors.  Curtains of some sort are strung across the room at different times to denote different scenes.  For someone without a general understanding of the different scenes it would be impossible to guess what was being depicted.  I frankly couldn't tell what was what.  Someone running across to set up these sheets of streamers as backdrops may be cute at first, but gets old very quickly.  Often flashlights were used to cast images onto the screens (the dragon at the beginning, and the birds for Papageno).  And why were so many people running around in their bare feet?  Sandals would have worked just fine.

So, the story is confusing, the sets are "low budget."  How about the music?

The singing was generally good.  The overtures were done superbly, and most singers did well.  Some of them were weak at times, a but surprising as that usually wasn't an issue in this auditorium.  I thought they recently renovated the entire Sydney Opera House; acoustics evidently wasn't a big part of the project, "better machinery" and additional restrooms got top billings in the article I read.  Too bad this production doesn't need a lot of fancy machinery, so we didn't get to see the improvements in action.

While there were many great arias in this opera, the headline grabbers are the two sung by the Queen of the Night.  Giuseppina Grech was mostly up to the task, although the delivery was somewhat mechanical.  One could also quibble with how good her intonation was, and if her voice could be a bit stronger, but at least she looked effortless in delivering the high Fs.

Until Anne reminded me, I had forgotten that we saw this opera in Sydney a while back.  She remembered the Queen as missing the high note(s).  I searched this blog and, indeed, we saw it in January 2009, 15 years ago.  I don't have much recollection of the event, but my blog entry seems to indicate the sets were more elaborate.  In that production the arias were done in German, while the dialog was in English.  I also complained about how difficult it was to hear the dialog.  Today the dialog was not nearly as challenging.  I was in seat J22 for the 2009 performance, so same row, but closer to the center.  Also, the cost of that ticket was A$140, versus A$185 today (the cost at the beginning of this entry includes the service charge).

The full opera lasts about 2 hours 35 minutes.  Today's was about 20 minutes shorter, so there was some editing.  Surprisingly the story isn't easier to follow when sung in English.  Some liberty was taken by the translator, as Tamino (or Papageno?) lamented that he was neither Clark Gable or Tarzan. Was that necessary?

Nowadays perhaps one has to make some statements to show relevance of everything to modern-day issues.  In the Director's Notes issues such as climate change, pandemic, and how we are co-dependent with the world were mentioned.  That may all be true.  However, to say the opera's message is about "a journey through dark and light to a harmony with nature; with our own natures and the power of forgiveness, play and music" is too much of a stretch for me.  For most people to make that connection would require a lot more than referencing Clark Gable and Tarzan.

Nearly every singer was born in Australia.  One notable exception is Papagena (Jennifer Black) who was born in California.  Someone else was scheduled to conduct tonight's performance, the "substitute" was going to take over in a few days anyway.

As a "show" the performance was good.  After all, I got in this morning after a long flight and spent the day running around the city, and managed to stay alert the entire time.  However, as a statement on how we can do better it fell irrelevant.

I was staying in a Mascot hotel, so it was easy to get to the Opera House.

Rutgers Symphony Orchestra. Ching-Chun Lai, conductor; Diana Kim, violin. February 10, 2024.

Nicholas Music Center, Mason Gross PAC, New Brunswick, NJ.  Open seating ($12.50).

There is supposedly "no video recording or photography" inside the music center, at all times.  I have no idea how strictly the policy is enforced.  I managed to snap this shot of Kim and Lai leaving the stage.

Program

subito con forza (2020 by Unsuk Chin (b. 1961).

Symphony No. 2, H. 295 (1943) by Bohuslav Martinu (1890-1959).

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

After attending one of their events, I get bombarded with Rutgers advertisements.  Not that there is anything wrong with it (except the tremendous waste of paper and other resources), and that's how I found out about tonight's performance by the RSO, with Beethoven's violin concerto on the program.  At a cost of $10 (for seniors, plus handling fee), nothing can possibly go wrong.

And nothing did.  Indeed I loved the Beethoven violin concerto.  Kim did a great job with the piece, and she was impeccable in technique and intonation.  The occasional (rare, at that) missed note didn't detract from a well thought-out rendition of the rather long piece.  Her violin has a great tone, but a times it sounded too soft against the orchestra.  A name to be watched.  I say that having seen Hadelich play not that long ago.

The concert didn't start that auspiciously.  Neither piece before Intermission was performed at the level of "wow, I am glad to have heard it."  The Chin piece required quite a few percussionists, and they generally did quite well.  To the extent I understand Martinu's music, there should be a propulsive feel to how the music progresses.  I think this symphony calls for that, but I didn't feel that was brought out well.

After the first piece many percussion instruments were removed from the stage, including two marimbas (I think).  It took a while.  Strangely the piano was left on stage for the Beethoven concerto.

Per the Program Notes the orchestra is training ground for music majors for an orchestral career.  Today's college orchestras generally play at a much higher level than when I was a college student; nonetheless, being able to join an orchestra is a daunting proposition.  Rutgers has produced some great musicians, and has many members of NJ Symphony on its teaching staff, that may help.

The Program Notes says the RSO's season consists of six symphonic programs, one opera, and two popular programs.  I can't find that many on their website.

Lai is the director of orchestras at Rutgers.  She reminds one of Xian Zhang, albeit a younger, skinnier, and less energetic version.  Interestingly, engineering appears to be her first degree; she holds a doctorate degree from Wisconsin.

The auditorium seats about 700 people, my generous guess is about 400 were in the audience.

Zlata Chochieva piano. February 4, 2024.

The Town Hall.  Front Orchestra Center (N117, $15.45).

Program

Waldsezenen, Op. 82 (1848-49) by R. Schumann (1810-1856).

Etudes D'execution Transcendante, S. 139 (1852) by F. Liszt (1811-1886).

Piano Sonata No. 2 in G-sharp minor "Sonata Fantasy," Op. 19 (1898) by A. Scriabin (1872-1915).

Rothe Blatter Fallen From Daemmerungstraume, Op. 14 (1882-83) by F. Draeseke (1835-1913).

Miroirs (1904-1905) by M. Ravel (1875-1937).

Concert Arabesque on Themes of "On the Beautiful Blue Danube" (1904) by R. Struss (1864-1949)/A. Schulz-Evler (1852-1905).

I sat in the back (third row from last) for the concert.  The seat had a good view of the stage and the pianist.

Frankly most of the pieces were unfamiliar to me, the exceptions being one of the Ravel movements (IV. Alborada del gracioso) and the Blue Danube themes.  The piano repertoire is huge, and my knowledge of it is quite narrow.

To be able to let the concert flow over you can be enjoyable.  One also notices the sound insulation isn't good enough to stop the noise from the hallway, or the sirens of the emergency vehicles on the street.

As far as I could tell, there was no break between the Draeseke and Ravel pieces, which generated some confusion for me.

What is unforgivable is letting people in while the musician is playing.  That to me is disrespectful.  There are enough breaks in the program that late comers can be seated without having to wait too long.

I left as soon as the program ends to catch the 4:07 pm train back to New Jersey.

New York Philharmonic. Gianandrea Noseda, conductor; Golda Schultz, soprano; Francesco Piemontesi, piano. February 2, 2024.

David Geffen Hall at Lincoln Center.  Tier 1 (Seat BB101, $93).

Program

Ch'io mi scordi di te? ... Non terner, amato bene, Scene and Rondo, K.505 (1786) by Mozart (1756-91).

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

Symphony No. 4 (1892 and 1899-1901, rev. 1901-11) by Mahler (1860-1911).

This concert wasn't part of my original subscription, it didn't make it to the top of the list of 13 or so concerts I got tickets for.  Seats were still available when we realized that we wouldn't be able to make the 2/22 concert (with Emanuel Ax on the program) as I will be away.  I can't predict how the two programs compare, but this was quite a concert, though.

The anchor for the afternoon (concert started at 2 pm) was the Mahler piece.  At over an hour it was 20 minutes longer than the first half.  Relatively short for a Mahler symphony, and the time went by rather quickly as the performance was very enjoyable.

Mahler had already completed the last movement and was planning to use it in the already very long third symphony.  That song (Das himmlische Leben) eventually became the last movement of the fourth symphony.  Musicologists (including the Program Annotator James M. Keller) discuss how the first three movements were composed with this destination in mind.

The "point" behind this symphony is fluid in that it can be interpreted in different ways, both by the musicians and the audience.  Overall, however, the idea is behind this glorious music there is a lot of cynicism.  That is evident right from the beginning phrases.  The music can be soaring and lofty, yet there is always this feeling things are not that pleasant if one looks deeper.

That absurd feeling is brought home in the fourth movement.  The heavenly life on the surface is ideal, but it comes at a cost.  The song has five stanzas, it is illustrative to go through them.  The first stanza describes how great the pleasures of heaven are, peaceful, happy, people dancing and singing.  The second stanza talks about a patient lamb being killed by Herod the butcher, and how Luke slaughters the ox, all enjoyed with wine and bread.  The third and fourth stanzas talk about how great the vegetables are, and the abundance of animals for food; on a fasting day fish come willingly to provide the alternative.  The last stanza repeats how everyone rejoices.  One can debate the theology behind the lyrics, but no doubt Mahler (most probably an atheist, although he converted to Christianity) is questioning what kind of heaven this is.

The instructions Mahler provided were to sing the song in a simple voice.  Schultz did do it as if she is enjoying heaven as described, although I would say there are many way to deliver the music that would convey the absurdity Mahler is trying to describe.  She came onto the stage at the beginning of the third movement, so had to sit up front for a good fifteen minutes before she started singing.  That didn't seem to be a problem.

On a prior blog entry someone commented on the second violin used by the concertmaster to deliver some of the solo lines: it was tuned higher to deliver a sharper tone.  Again a subtlety grasped only by those with an intimate knowledge of the music.

The concert began with two compositions by Mozart.  The recitative (You ask that I forget you?) and aria (Fear nothing, my beloved) were composed as a "concert aria," one of 50 some Mozart composed for various occasions and reasons.  The piano plays an important role in the music, together with the orchestra.

The Mozart piano concerto was a delight, and was delivered gracefully by Piemontesi (his NY Phil debut).  The Program Notes mentioned how one might think there is a "French connection" to "Marseillaise" of French revolution fame.  I hadn't made the connection, but now I have to work to get that out of my head.

Schultz, Piemontesi and Noseda after Mozart's Concert Aria.

It was a delightful performance, but overshadowed by the Mahler 4 that was to come.

For a Mahler concerto this wasn't a large orchestra.  There were 9 double basses.

Schultz is from South Africa, had her Met debut a few years ago, but today was the first time I saw her in concert.  Her voice was clear and her elocution precise (even though I speak little Italian or German).  This was our first time sitting in Tier 1 after the renovation; I wonder if the clarity of the sound is a result of the new acoustics.

We made the 4:27 pm train back to NJ because it was running late.  Turned out it was late by about 30 minutes, but there was still light when we go home.  Earlier today the groundhogs predicted it would be a short winter.

Boston Symphony Orchestra. Andris Nelsons, music director. January 30, 2024.

Isaac Stern Auditorium, Carnegie Hall.  Balcony (Seat B14, $28).

The concert ended at 10:35 pm.

Program

Lady Macbeth of Mtsensk, Opera in Four Acts and Nine Scenes, Op. 29 (1930-1932) by Shostakovich (1906-1975).

Cast

Katerina Ezmailova - Kristine Opolais, Boris Izmailov/Ghost of Boris - Gunther Groissbock, Zinovy Izmailkov - Peter Hoare, Sergei - Brenden Gunnell.

Story.  Katerina is in a loveless marriage to Zinovy.  When Zinovy goes on a business trip, she is reminded by her father-in-law Boris that she must remain faithful.  The new worker Sergei - a well-known womanizer - comes to town, challenges Katerian to a wrestling match, and the two eventually have an affair.  Boris catches Sergei, beats him, and locks him up in the storeroom.  Katerina puts poison in the mushroom dish she prepares for Boris, and he dies.  When Zinovy returns, he suspects Katerina's having an affair, and beats her.  In their struggle, Katerina and Sergei kill Zinovy and puts the body in the cellar.  On her wedding day of Katerina and Zinovy, a drunken guest discovers Zinovy's body and reports that to the police.  The police arrive before Katerina and Sergei can escape, and she confesses her guilt.  After being convicted, Katerina and Sergei are being shipped to Siberia.  Along the way, Sergei asks Katerina for her stockings to give to his new lover Sonyetka.  Katerina throws Sonyetka into the Volga and jumps in herself.

I knew very little about this opera before the concert.  My prior encounter with Shostakovich's opera was "The Nose," a surreal composition which I didn't understand at all.  That was the only other opera Shostakovich wrote.  This is a completely different composition, the characters are well-defined, the story line is quite straightforward, and the music follows (or leads) the arc of the story tightly.

Shostakovich composed many film scores (34 per Wikipedia), and one might conclude he used many of the same techniques to compose the music for this opera.  There is a film Katerina Izmailova, of which Shostakovich was a part of, and for which he wrote the musical score, I do wonder if that music resembles what we hear today.

Opolais - at one point married to Nelsons - was the clear star in the production.  She was on stage for most of the time, and probably did as much singing as the other soloists combined.  Her voice remained strong throughout.  The only time she was drowned out was when the orchestra was playing at its loudest.  (From where I sat I wasn't even sure she was singing.)  I may have remarked on her inability to act in prior reviews, but that wasn't an issue for today's opera in concert.  Hoare as Sergei generally did well, although his voice would drop off every now and then.  Many other soloists did very well, although their roles tended to be brief.

The BSO has a great sound, although for this opera not much subtlety is required.  The set up makes it feel a lot more like an orchestral concert than an opera.  I wonder how different the experience would be if this is a staged opera, with the orchestra in the pit.  Groissbock as Boris ghost sang for a few minutes from the second tier.  It was interest that a conductor was right next to him, conducting quite vigorously.

The synopsis has Katerina pushing her rival into the river, and then jumping in after her.  In the actual performance the reference is to a lake.  There were three screams, so I don't know who screamed twice (it was done off-stage).  Opolais was on stage during the last scene, which contribution to my confusion, and (I am sure) she didn't do any screaming.

One can imagine a staged opera can be quite lurid, and may add some additional dimensions to the experience.  Without the distraction of the props and costumes, one's attention is more focused on the music, which isn't a bad thing.

The program notes has the duration at 3 hours, including an intermission.  In reality it went from 7:10 pm to 10:35 pm.  One could argue some scenes can be shortened or cut out completely (e.g., Scene 7, the police station).

At the end of Act 2.

James Burton (back to audience) is the conductor of the Tanglewood Festival Chorus.

Opolais deserved the extended applause she got from the audience.

It was a great evening.  I do wonder why the play is called Lady Macbeth of Mtensk, though.