New York Philharmonic - Christoph von Dohnanyi, Conductor; Nikolaj Znaider, Violin. October 27, 2007.

Avery Fisher Hall at Lincoln Center, First Tier Box Rear (Seat 22R16, $59).

Program
Night's Black Bird (2004) by Harrison Birtwistle (b. 1934).
Concerto for Violin and Orchestra in D minor, Op. 47 (1902-1904; 1905) by Sibelius (1865-1957).
Symphony No. 5 in C minor (1804-08) by Beethoven (1770-1827).

We bought tickets for about 8 Philharmonic concerts for this season, as part of the "Create Your Own" series, at a great price of $59 per ticket. Tonight's was the first concert.

We had tickets in prior seasons to see Dohnanyi, somehow he always seemed to get sick and couldn't conduct. So we were wondering if we would miss him again. Good thing he was in good shape, and we enjoyed the concert thoroughly. Perhaps it was also because two of the pieces are well know, and the new one is quite short at about 12 minutes.

Not much can be said about the piece by Sir Harrison, a British composer who started his career as a clarinetist. The harps played an interesting introduction, and the beginning was classical enough that I could follow it. But the piece got stranger as it progressed. There was a proliferation of percussion instruments, including the kitchen sink (well, wood block and metal tube).

Dohnanyi rearranged the orchestra so the harps were on the right (looking from the audience), the strings were (from left to right) first violion, cello, viola, and second violin, with the double basses on the left in the back. Such is the perogative of the conductor, I guess. Despite the different arrangement, the sound of the orchestra was very good tonight.

I had not heard of Znaider (wonder if it is a variation of Snyder?) before. He is a Danish-born Polish-Israeli, and tall. The violin he plays is the "Kriesler" Guarnerius "del Gesu" 1741, with a surprising bright and well-projected sound (for a Guarnerius). Despite some problems with runs and intonation in the high registers, this was a well played piece. The concerto is in three movements: Allegro moderato, Adagio di molto, Allegro ma non tanto; and it must be of the most difficult pieces in a concert violinist's repertoire. It is well know Sibelius wrote it for the violinist that he wanted to be but wasn't, and I found the performance, particularly the third movement, very moving. Sibelius used very traditional orchestration (only percussion is the timpani, and no brass instruments) for the piece. The passage where the violin goes higher and higher with the orchestra going the other way is very pleasant.

We heard the concerto a couple of years ago with Joshua Bell as the violinist. I don't remember enough of that performance to compare the artists fairly, but I don't recall enjoying it as much as I did tonight.

Beethoven's fifth symphony is often called the "victory" because of the four notes that start the composition. The four movements are typical Beethoven: Allegro con brio, Andante con moto, Allegro, and Allegro. Beethoven wrote the fourth, fifth, and sixth symphonies during the same timeframe, and they are quite different from one another. While Dohnanyi's interpretation isn't that different from all the rest (with the exception of shortened fermatas), this was an enjoyable performance of a favorite.

I am quite happy with how the season begins. It shows even well known pieces can be enjoyed if played properly.

See also the New York Times review of the concert. Naturally, the reviewer was ecstatic about the Birtwistle piece.

American Classical Orchestra – Thomas Crawford, Music Director; Michael Bilson, fortepiano. October 24, 2007.

Society for Ethical Culture, New York City, Auditorium (Seat D19, $50).

Program
Symphony No. 38 in C Major, “Echo”, by Franz Josef Haydn (1732-1809)
Allegro di molto
Andante molto
Menuet & Trio – Allegro
Allegro di molto
Marc Schachman, obe solo
Piano Conerto No. 20 in D Minor, K. 466 by Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart (1756-1791)
Allegro
Romance
Rondo: Allegro asssai
Milcolm Bilson, fortepiano
Symphony No. 94 in G Major, “Surprise”, by Haydn
Adagio – Vivace assai
Andante
Menuet & Trio – Allegro molto
Finale: Allegro di molto

Our friends from our Cornell days asked us to go to this concert. Their daughter went to a workshop at Cornell and studied with Malcolm Bilson and thinks highly of him. Bilson started at Cornell in 1968. I was taking courses in the music department at that time (theory, orchestra, and conducting), but don't remember him. Anne says she does, though.

Haydn wrote his “Echo” symphony when he was 13 (information from lecture as relayed by our friend; Wikipedia lists the work as composed by 1769). I wasn't aware he was a child prodigy (I did know he was extremely prolific, having written over 100 symphonies.) He was born before Mozart and died after Mozart did. Mozart was writing operas when he was a teenager. The two must have been quite a duo! In any case, the title of the symphony became obvious soon when echoes were liberally placed in the music. One could hear the genius of the composer as well as the child in him – if indeed it was composed when Haydn was 13.

The orchestra is quite small, six first violins and (perhaps) eight seconds. However, we were so close to the stage that I could hear the individual instruments if I focussed hard enough. Stradivarius was making violins in the late 1600s already, and those instruments are still played today, so the violin can't have changed that much since Haydn and Mozart's days. I did notice some of the bows do look different from the modern violin bow. The strings played without vibrato which I found very interesting. Vibrato, in addition to giving out a richer tone, also can hide intonation problems for those whose ears may not be perfect. I am quite sure the technique was around when Haydn was around (I guess one could check by reading the violin instruction book written by Mozart's father Leopold). It is a tribute to the players that the sound was quite good. The woodwind and brass instruments do look very different, a period flute certainly looks much simpler than what a modern flute looks like today.

Afterwards the conductor described how the solo oboeist wanted to play the part like “a bat from hell.” The passage did sound quite interesting, and the sound of the period oboe was a bit different (less nasal.) It felt a bit rushed, though.

The fortepiano is light enough that three people could lift it easily. The keyboard is quite small at about five octaves (compared to the eight on a modern piano). Evidently piano music from that period is limited to a range of five octaves. The sound was extremely soft though. Even from where we sit, we had trouble hearing many of the passages, especially the “tutti” parts. The instrument doesn't have pedals, which is the way I think Mozart should be played anyway. The lower registers produced a “twang” (probably from the strings being too close to the sound board) which was a bit annoying. I am not sure, and wonder, if the keys are the same width as those we have today.

I was dozing off a bit during the last movement, and am quite sure I heard Bilson said “I'm sorry” which totally woke me up. I don't know what mistake he made (as I am not that familiar with this concerto) but am quite sure he began to hesitate after that. The audience nonetheless gave him a warm applause afterwards.

I know most of the “Surprise” symphony quite well, except the last movement. I told Anne it is probably because I usually have fallen asleep by the time it comes around. Compared to “Echo”, this symphony is not as aptly named. In my opinion, there was only one chord that was truly surprising, and the effect is lost after the first listen anyway.

I don't know much about period music, although a professor at Cornell was well known for playing the viola da gamba. The way Bilson played was no different than how I would expect him to play on a modern piano, although the sounds were different, and there was no pedal to accommodate sloppy keyboard techniques. Similarly, the non-use of vibrato may or may not be how people played strings then. (Although it is difficult to imagine not using the technique on a Stradivarius.) Other noticeable differences were the smaller violas (hard to tell they were not violins) and the spikeless cellos.

The name “Society for Ethical Culture” is not the most descriptive, and is easily confused with “Society for Ethnic Culture”. According to Anne, this is a gathering of people who do not believe in the existence of God but think the pursuit of ethics is a worthwhile endeavor. In my opinion, without a god the study of ethics can be an interesting academic subject, but who can decide among competing and conflicting principles? For example, who is to say striving for my own good is better or not as worthwhile as striving for the greater good?

All in all, this was an enjoyable evening in the city.

Metropolitan Opera – Donizetti's Lucia di Lammermoor, October 20, 2007.

Metropolitan Opera at Lincoln Center – Dress Circle, Seat B11 ($125).

Conductor – James Levine; Lord Enrico Ashton – Mariusz Kwiecien, Raimondo – John Relyea, Lucia – Annick Massis, Edgardo – Marcello Giordani, Arturo – Stephen Costello

Story: Lucia's brother Enrico wants her to marry Arturo in order to save his family's fortunes. Lucia instead falls in love with the family's enemy Edgardo. By intercepting and withholding letters between Lucia and Edgardo, Enrico manages to deceive Lucia and the family priest Raimondo that Edgardo has abandoned the relationship. Edgardo blasts his way into the wedding ceremony and curses Lucia for her betrayal. Lucia kills Arturo while Enrico challenges Edgardo to a duel. As the duel is about to begin, Raimondo announces Lucia's death and Edgardo stabs himself so he can join Lucia in heaven.

Guess what, we are not leaving the area. During the summer we renewed our subscriptions to the Met and the New York Philharmonic. The NYC Opera season doesn't look all that interesting, we may just go to a couple of their productions.

Lucia is well known for the mad scene where a bloodied Lucia writhes on the ground. I honestly didn't know much about the story, but I do know a couple of the more famous arias, the love duet “Ah! Verranno a te sull'aure” and the sextet “Chi mi frena in tal momento”. The latter tune is a well-known hymn; knowing its origin and context, I'm not sure it's all that appropriate to adapt the tune to a hymn.

The role of Lucia was sung by Annick Massis. All the writeups I have seen of the opera talk about how great Natalie Massey (whom I haven't heard either) was in the role. I asked the couple sitting next to us if they knew what was going on, and they didn't. They also told me this new production is very different from the last one. Since I hadn't seen the last one, I guess it's not that important. I remain a bit puzzled, though.

The opera was quite enjoyable, to the extent a tragedy can be enjoyed. The two arias didn't disappoint, although neither evoked the emotion one could expect. Unfortunately that sentiment permeates my impression of the opera: nice but not gripping. Whether that is due to the story, the acting, the music, or a combination of these factors, I am not sure. The audience should feel sorry for Lucia rather than Annick when she is writhing on the ground.

The sets were quite elegantly designed, and changing of the scenes within a set was done smoothly. In Act 3 the scenes moved from castle ruins to a ballroom to a cemetery, quite a design and technical challenge. The scene where the photographer was doing his best to arrange the wedding party was quite humorous for its incongruity with what was happening. The ghost of Janet Dalrymple, the girl on whom the Sir Walter Scott story is based, and represented by a woman dressed and made up in white, produced a good effect.

The orchestra played beautifully, the harp accompaniment introducing Lucia during the first act was particularly nice. Edgardo was a bit disappointing, being mostly a "shouter". The recitative with which he first entered wasn't done all that well, and I am sure he was off by half a note after an a cappella passage. For some reason, the two intermissions were very long, at 35 minutes each – it was a good thing we drove in as we probably would have missed the 12:07 train. The singers didn't have such long arias that they would need the rest. Some attributed it to the health of Levine, indeed there was some impatient clapping for the third Act to begin. Levine carries a tremendous work load; if his health is indeed an issue, perhaps it is time to play more of a counselor role and yield the baton to younger conductors?

Donizetti isn't quite as famous as Rossini, Verdi or Puccini. He was nonetheless a very prolific composer, having composed about 75 operas. The Program Notes list Lucia, Don Pasquale and The Elixir of Love as the most popular ones that have remained popular all these years. I am happy to say we have seen all three.

New York Philharmonic – Lorin Maazel, Conductor; Deborah Voight, Soprano. June 23, 2007.

Avery Fisher Hall at Lincoln Center, Orchestra (Seat GG106, $0.01)

Program

Four Orchestral Songs: “Befreit” (“Set Free”), Op. 39, No. 4 (1898; orch. 1933); “Lied der Frauen” (“Song of the Women”), Op. 68, No. 6 (1918; orch. 1933); “Morgen!” (“Tomorrow!”), Op. 27, No. 4 (1894; orch. 1897) and “Fruhlingsfeier” (“Celebration of Spring”), Op. 56, No. 5 (1903-06; orch. 1933) by R. Strauss (1864-1949).

Symphony No. 7 (1904-05) by Mahler (1860-1911).

About the ticket price. We got two free tickets as a result of our subscriptions to the season. And they were for any available seat in the house. These seats have a good view of the stage and have good acoustics. However, the floor isn't sloped enough for us to have a good view of the orchestra. Mahler's piece calls for all kinds of percussion instruments (including the rute, a bundle of sticks), so a seat with a better view of the section would be interesting.

We saw Deborah Voight earlier this year at the Metropolitan Opera as Helen in Strauss's Opera Helen of Egypt. My comments about her performance there apply here also. She has a voice that projects very well, even against a full orchestra, but it is a bit on the harsh side. I am generally not a “song” person, although the four songs were enjoyable enough, and there were a few tender moments. The program annotator managed to write a rather long article on the pieces, though.

I usually enjoy the way Maazel conducts Mahler. Tonight was no exception. The seventh is an awfully long symphony, advertised in the Notes to be 82 minutes long; the actual performance was close to 90 minutes. Lately I have wondered about Maazel's stamina (he is over 75), he didn't seem to have any problems tonight though.

The Symphony's five movements are Slow – Allegro risoluto, ma non troppo; Night Music: Allegro moderato – Andante; Scherzo: Shadowlike, flowing, but not fast; Night Music: Andante amoroso; and Rondo-Finale: Tempo I (Allegro ordinario – Allegro moderato ma energico). Mahler's inscriptions for his movements are always quite interesting, a mixture of English and Italian in this instance. By my watch, the lengths are respectively 30 minutes, 15, 10, 15 and (without pause) 20.

The first movement was complex and seemed chaotic. There were some miscues, and sometimes the orchestra was barely under control. The second movement was a delight. The third was more serious. The solo violin was featured prominently in the fourth movement. The guitar and mandolin (unusual instruments in a symphony) also participated. They needed microphones in order to be heard over the rest of the orchestra. The viola and other instruments also got solo passages here. The last movement was driven along by the timpani, which got quite a bit of workout tonight.

The crowd gave an enthusiastic ovation. Maazel also pointed out the members who would be retiring this year. There were a couple of people who insisted on letting their displeasure known by louding booing – fortunately the booing was by and large drowned out by the applause.

This was the final series for the season. We haven't renewed our subscription for next year, partially due to not knowing whether we would move out of the area. So there was a bit of melancholy involved also.

See also the New York Times review. The reviewer describes the orchestra as being a car without an engine.

New York Philharmonic – Lorin Maazel, Conductor; New York Choral Artits, Joseph Flummerfelt, Director. June 2, 2007.

Avery Fisher Hall at Lincoln Center, Second Tier Box Rear (Seat 20F2, $43).

Program: Brahms the Romantic – A Philharmonic Festival

Variations on a Theme by Haydn by Brahms (1833-1897).

A German Requiem, Op. 45 by Brahms.

We had tickets for June 9 and 16 (both programs conducted by Riccardo Muti, with Lang Lang playing Beethoven's Fifth Piano Concerto in one) but wouldn't be able to make them due to our planned trip to Asia. We got tonight's ticket in exchange for one event, and gave the Lang Lang concert tickets to a friend. While I would like to see Lang Lang and Muti (whom I still have yet to see), I am also glad we went to tonight's concert.

Brahms' first foray into symphonic work was with these Hadyn Variations. He composed a score for two pianos and another for an orchestra. Interestingly, most musicologists today believe the theme wasn't written by Hadyn. The piece contains the theme (Chorale St. Antoni - Andante), eight variations (Poco piu animato, Piu vivace, Con moto, Andante con moto, Vivace, Vivace, Grazioso, Preseto no troppo), and a Finale (Andante). This composition is quite unusual as variations go - the theme only unmistakenly appears in the first and last movements. Nonetheless, the 20- or so minute piece was quite delightful.

As with many of Brahms' works, “A German Requiem” underwent many revisions before Brahms finally finished it. Most Requiems are based on the Latin requiem mass text, starting with Introit et Kyrie and ending with In paradisum. Brahms chose for his work different passages from the Bible, in German. He also said his work could be called “A Human Requiem”. There is no mention of Christ at all in the text, but there is a strong sense of faith and redemption nonetheless. This piece was played by the New York Philharmonic on September 20, 2001 as a memorial for the 9/11 attacks. The headings of the pieces are (i) Blessed are they that mourn; (ii) For all flesh is 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) Bleassed are the dead.

The piece was very enjoyable, and moving. The soloists were the soprano Celena Shafer and the baritone Matthias Goerne. While up to the task, they had relatively minor roles (each sang for fewer than five minutes). The New York Chorale consisted of about 80 singers, they were generally quite good also. They couldn't get all the s's and t's in sync, though. And there were many of those sounds in the German lyrics.

We were in the city early, so we went to the pre-concert talk by Charles Borstein, scholar in residence at the Philharmonic. He talked about two things in the Requiem: the seventh interval which recurs in every movement, and the Dresden Amen. I only caught glimpses of them during the concert. He also mentioned the piece was not motif-based but was rather harmony-based. While I understand what he said in the abstract, I am not sure I agree with it, and there were certainly many motif-sounding fragments to me. When asked whom the Requiem was written for, he mentioned it might have been for Robert Schumann, or Brahms's own mother. Then he made the insightful remark that at the end the composer wrote it for himself.

The requiem was 70 minutes long (advertised as 60 in the notes). Maazel conducted it without music, although I was a bit worried about his stamina – he seemed a bit tired at the end. It was a great performance, though.

The New York Times preview of the program (which also reviewed an earlier program) is brutal, severely criticizing the perceived lack of originality of the “Brahms the Romantic” series and Maazel's handling of Brahms in general. Let me repeat: I thought the evening's performance was quite enjoyable.

New York Philharmonic – Lorin Maazel, Conductor; Julian Rachlin, Violin. May 26, 2007.

Avery Fisher Hall at Lincoln Center, Second Tier Center (Seat AA110, $60).

Program

Russian Easter Overture, Op. 36 (1887-88) by Rimsky-Korsakov (1844-1908).

Violin Concerto No. 3 in B minor, Op. 61 (1880) by Saint-Saens (1835-1921).

Concerto for Orchestra, BB 123, Sz. 116 (1943) by Bartok (1881-1945).

The overture by Rimsky-Korsakov is quite interesting. It contains many solo lines (flute, cello, violin, trombone, etc), and some passages are very typical R-K. The short piece (16 minutes) has many mood changes. Some of the passages very quite difficult and the orchestra was a bit sloppy at times.

Nikolai Rimsky-Korsakov belonged to this nationalistic group of five Russian composers (“the Mighty Five”) that also included Alexander Borodin, Cesar Cui, Modest Musorgsky, and Mily Balakirev (organizer and R-K's mentor.)

I couldn't remember what the violin concerto sounded like. It turned out to be one that was quite familiar to me. The three movements are: Allegro non troppo; Andantino quasi allegretto; and Molto moderato e maestoso – Allegro non troppo. The concerto was dedicated to Pablo de Sarasate. The performance tonight certainly didn't start auspiciously, with the beginning sounding quite lethargic and the violinist having some intonation problems with notes played on the bridge end of the finger board.

Luckily, the performance eventually settled into a rather pleasant rendition of a virtuoso piece of music, noted for the extensive use of harmonics. The clarinet doubling accompaniment made the passage especially dreamlike and enjoyable.

Lithuania-born (1974) Rachlin plays the 1741 “ex Carrodus” Guarnerius del Gesu violin. Guarnerii are usually noted for their smooth tone, and they usually don't project very well against an orchestra. This one seemed to do well, though.

Bartok came to the United States in 1940, and by 1943 had developed the first symptoms of leukemia, his weight falling to a mere 87 pounds. He was also financially strapped, and his similarly displaced Hungarian friends Fritz Reiner and Joseph Szigeti asked the Boston Symphony's Serge Koussevitzky to commission Bartok to write a new symphonic work. After being convinced that this wasn't an act of charity, Bartok wrote the piece at a rural mountain getaway at Saranac Lake, New York. Bartok's commented on the piece at its premiere: “The general mood of the work represents, apart from the jesting second movement, a gradual transition from the sterness of the first movement and the lugubrious death-song of the third to the life-assertion of the last one.” The five movements are (i) Introduction: Andante non troppo – Allegro vivace; (ii) Game of Couples: Allegretto scherzando; (iii) Elegy: Andante non troppo; (iv) Interrupted Intermezzo: Allegretto; and (v) Finale: Pesante – Presto. There was no pause between (iv) and (v) in tonight's performance. (Most of this paragraph taken from the Notes to the concert.)

I usually enjoy Bartok's music. However, I didn't find tonight's piece particularly captivating. Perhaps it was its length: a bit long at 40 minutes. Or perhaps it was its complexity. In any case, the program notes also talk about a parody of a theme from Shostakovich's Seventh Symphony, which was in turn copied from Franz Lehar's operetta The Merry Widow. Describing it as “rude vulgar” was probably a bit much, but it certainly sounded out of place.

See also the New York Times review of the concert. The reviewer thought the entire concert was on the vulgar side.

New York Philharmonic - Lorin Maazel, Conductor; Anne-Sophie Mutter, Violin. April 28, 2007.

Avery Fisher Hall at Lincoln Center. First Tier Center (Seat DD13, $59).

Program
Leonore Overture No. 3, Op. 72b (1806) by Ludwig van Beethoven (1770-1827).
Violin Concerto (1935) by Alban Berg (1885-1935).
Andante - Allegretto
Allegro - Adagio
Chant du rossignol: Poeme symphonique (Song of the Nightingale: Symphonic Poem; 1913-14; 1917) by Igor Stravinsky (1882-1971).
Daphnis et Chloe Suite No. 2 (1909-12; 1913) by Maurice Ravel (1875-1937).
Daybreak
Pantomime
General Dance

A few observations. This is close to the end of the season, and it is the first time we see Maazel conducting. What's going on? He has to take on guest conducting assignments at other orchestras to supplement his generous Philharmonic salary?

The Berg concerto was a bit beyond me. I read that he composed in the 12-tone scale a la Schoenberg. Technically it appears quite challenging, musically I alas don't appreciate.

Mutter's dress was a bit flashy - I'd call the color orange, others may call it peach. I am sure she performed on one of the two Strads she owns, but the tone was uncharacteristically muted.

Leonore eventually evolved into Fidelio, Beethoven's only opera. It sounded very familiar, but I couldn't find it on my iPod. I get that confused with the Egmont overtures, oftentimes.

This concert is reviewed by the New York Times, for those who can't wait ...

New York City Opera – Verdi's La traviata – April 21, 2007.

New York State Theater at Lincoln Center First Ring, Seat B13 ($112.50).

Conductor – George Manahan; Violetta Valery – Anne Sophie Duprels, Flora Bervoix – Heather Johnson, Alfredo Germont – Bruce Sledge, Giorgio Germont – Michael Corvino, Dr. Grenvil – Eric Jordan.

Story: Violetta, a courtesan, falls in love with Alfredo and the two live together. To support themselves, Violetta has to sell off her possessions without telling Alfredo. Alfredo's father Giorgio visits Violetta and asks her to leave his son so he can reclaim his family's reputation. Violetta obliges but Alfredo mistakes her departure as abandonment. Violetta eventually develops consumption. Finally Alfredo realizes his mistakes and asks Violetta for her forgiveness. Violetta forgives and dies in his arms.

Well, that's how the ending goes most of the time – and I have seen this opera many times. In this production Violetta simply falls to the ground.

La traviata and Carmen are two operas I still haven't grown tired of, and heartily recommend to any first time opera listeners. The stories, while predictable, are captivating and simple to follow. The arias are generally well-known and melodic. While they are tragedies, they are not overtly “moral”. You can empathize with the various characters, but you don't feel the need to judge the characters, or the traits they represent. The villain Giorgio redeems himself at the end by trying to reconcile Violetta and Alfredo; and he was not evil as Scarpia in Tosca or Delilah in Samson and Delilah.

The sets for this opera were reasonably elaborate by NYC Opera standards. A couple of years ago we saw the production by the Met, which was quite opulent.

Well, the NYC Opera isn't the Met, and Anne Sophie Duprels isn't Renee Fleming either. Fleming sang the part of Violetta at the Met performance we saw. I am sure Duprels is an excellent soprano, and she reached the high notes comfortably. However, she could only reach those notes by force, rather that the soft pianissimo a great soprano seems to reach effortlessly. The opera rises and falls on the performance of the heroine, so the performance was – adequate.

Alfredo and Giorgio also put in adequate performances. However, at times Giorgio's voice was particularly weak.

The interlude scenes of gypsy dancers and bull fighters are sometimes incongruent with the flow of the story. I found both to be quite enjoyable, even they were not trying to do as much as, say, the Met. The lead Gypsy dancer's performance was especially good.

The Chinese title for this opera is “Lady of Camellia”. Alfredo offers the flower to Violetta when he first meets her, and brings a flower to her at the end. It didn't happen in this one.

Despite my mixed review, I still would recommend this opera to others. And I won't mind seeing it again myself either.

The New York Times reviewer was struggling a bit with what to say about a so-so performance of a great opera also. There is an interesting description of the last New York City production.

We met up with Anna and Kenneth after the opera (it was a matinee) for dinner at Old Homstead Restaurant, famous for its $41 Kobe Beef Hamburger. We were pleasantly surprised that most of their beef dishes are around $40 (exception is the Kobe Steak at $195). The leftover from Anne's prime rib fed the two of us for another two days.

A very pleasant spring day to spend in New York.

The Metropolitan Opera - Giordano's Andrea Chenier. April 7, 2007.

Metropolitan Opera at Lincoln Center - Grand Tier, Seat G20 ($150).

Conductor - Marco Armiliato; Carlo Gerard - Mark Delaven, Maddalena de Coigny - Violeta Urmana, Bersi - Maria Zifchak, Andrea Chenier - Ben Heppner, The Incredible (a spy) - David Cangelosi, Roucher - Charles Taylor, Madelon - Irina Mishura.

Story. Andre Chenier is a poet during the time of the French Revolution and the Reign of Terror. He is introduced in the opera composing a poem mocking the aristocrats invited to a ball by Maddalena's family. Gerard, a servant in the household, quits his job, joins the French Revolution and rises up in its ranks. He falsely accuses Chenier of betraying the cause. Maddalena, who is in love with Andre Chenier, pleads for Chenier's life and promises to marry Gerard if Chenier is saved. Her plea to Gerard describing how her mother was killed and how she and her servant Bersi had to hide from their persecutors wins Gerard over. Despite Gerard's admitting that the charges are trumped up, the tribunal still sentences Chenier to die. Before the execution, Maddalena bribes the prison guard to let her be disguised as another condemned woman prisoner. Maddalena and Andre spend their last moments together before going to the guillotine.

The aria “La mamma morta”, sung by Maria Callas, was made famous in the fireplace scene of the movie Philadelphia with Tom Hanks describing the aria, especially the cello part. It was largely because of my fascination with this song that we went to see the opera. The other interesting thing is there is a causal clothing brand in Hong Kong named Giordano, legend has it that the company founder named the company after the opera composer.

I enjoyed the opera. The sets were elaborately and nicely constructed. The opera also called for a large number of chorus members in scenes such as the ballroom dance and the mob. The music was generally pleasant. What I have read about the opera seems to indicate there are a couple of familiar arias. I only knew the one from Philadelphia, though.

Violetta Urmana is no Maria Callas. She had a different take on the aria than the Callas soundtrack I have, nonetheless it was beautifully performed. Ben Heppner, whom we also saw earlier this season in Idomeneo, was a bit weak. The acting in general was only so-so. The supposedly scene-stealer aria of Madelon, a blind old woman offering her only surviving son to the revolution, was not all that captivating.

Nonetheless, it was well worth the time. The appreciative audience seemed to agree. I also got to review a bit of my European history. Andre Chenier was a historical character. The love story with Maddalena, alas, was made up. The macabre in us made us wonder if they would show a guillotine in the last Act. What they did was cast a shadow of one in the background.

New York Philharmonic - Sir Colin Davis, Conductor; Radu Lupu, Piano, Thomas Stacy, English Horn. March 31, 2007.

Avery Fisher Hall at Lincoln Center - Third Tier Box 10R6 ($30).

Program
Piano Concerto in B-flat major, K. 595 (1790-91) by Mozart (1756-91).
Lemminkainen Suite, Op. 22 (various) by Sibelius (1865-1957).

We attended tonight's concert at the suggestion of our friend. He claims Radu Lupu plays great Mozart. The other part of the program was going to be Sibelius's Lemminkainen Suite. I had heard a movement from the Suite about a year ago and was not particularly impressed. So there was both anticipation and dread towards the concert.

The Mozart piano concerto was written less than a year before Mozart died, although scholars doubt very much it indicates any knowledge of the composer's sad demise. The concerto contains the traditional movements (Allegro, Larghetto, and Allegro). Indeed Lupu played very well. Compared to Uchida, whom I heard a week ago, his phrasing was crisp, and the use of pedal was minimal (I detected it only during the cadenza). Now, I am no pianist, nor am I a Mozart scholar, so I honestly can't tell one great performance from another. Nonetheless, both a doctoral student at Julliard and her mother tell me the phrasing and balance are just exquisite. I will have to take their word for it. In contrast, the orchestra was a bit sloppy. No doubt more rehearsal time with the guest conductor Colin Davis would have helped.

The Lemminkainen Suite consists of four movements composed during various times. They are: (i) Lemminkainen and the Maidens of the Island (1895, rev. 1897/1939), (ii) The Swan of Tuonela (1895, rev. 1897/1900), (iii) Lemminkainen in Tuonela (1893, rev. 1879/1939) and (iv) Lemminaiken's Return (1895, rev. 1897/1900).

I enjoyed the Suite much more this time than the last, which I characterized as “forgettable.” Perhaps it was due to the seat. Although we sat in a third tier box and had only a partial view of the stage, the acoustics was quite good. Another factor could be when the entire Suite is played, there was more context to understand the music with. Even the Swan movement came across quite well. Although we had to lean forward to see Thomas Stacy, the sound of the English Horn came through very well. Overall, the music is quite uplifting, especially by Sibelius's standard.

A word on the conductor. He is about 80 years old (born 1927), and still stands straight and conduct vigorously. Impressive.

The Metropolitan Opera - Strauss's Die Agyptische Helena. March 31, 2007.

Metropolitan Opera at Lincoln Center - Dress Circle, Seat F24 ($125).

Conductor - Fabio Luisi; Aithra - Diana Damrau, Helena - Deborah Voight, Melenas - Torsten Kerl, Da-ud, Garrett Soreson, Altair - Wolfgang Brendel.

Story. The traditional Helen of Troy story has Helen carried away by Paris and marrying him. This story presents the alternate legend that it is actually a facsimile of Helen that is carried off, while the real Helen remains in Egypt. She has to convince Menalas that she has always been faithful. When given the choice of a lotus potion that will eliminate all the bad memories or a potion that will bring back remembrance of those bad times, Helen chooses the later. Still, they manage to overcome the pain and are reunited with their child Hermione.

I chose this Met performance because Deborah Voight is in it. I had read many reports on Voight who is proclaimed as a great Wagner soprano. My interest was really piqued when she was dismissed from a London performance because she was too overweight, and her subsequent decision to have her stomach's size surgically reduced.

That this opera was composed by Richard Strass was a bit of a deterrent. We saw his Capriccio (NYC Opera) in 2005 and I came away puzzled. Alas, this sentiment is repeated with this opera.

The premise of the story is interesting enough, although with the way the plot unfolds in the opera, there is not much suspense or drama. The set is minimal and not very interesting, especially by the Met's usual elaborate standards. The costume was modern – dresses and suits, no togas.

Both Damrau and Voight have great voices. Voight supposedly had to hit a C#, I missed it, probably because she did it so effortlessly. I was a bit surprised that Voight's timbre was a bit on the harsh side, maybe that's why it carries so well? Damrau's voice is very pleasant. In comparison, the tenor Kerl's voice was weak.

A few interesting notes. The elves all wear sunglasses and dresses, but they all have beards. There is also a group of men in white suits carrying black briefcases that have light bulbs in them. They remind me of the “agents” in the Matrix movies. Also, they made Aithra lie on the stage at the end of Act I and before Act II for quite a while. The sets of Acts I and II are mirror images of one another.

Opera News magazine had a couple of articles on Diana Damrau and the Met production of this opera. Perhaps these writers have a better appreciation of the opera.

The Met put this opera on soon after it was written in 1928. It wasn't repeated until this series. One wonders when the opera will be produced again!

New York Philharmonic - Sir Colin Davis, Conductor; Mitsuko Uchida, Piano. March 24, 2007.

Avery Fisher Hall at Lincoln Center, First Tier Center, Seat DD19 ($59).

Program
Symphony No. 85 in B-flat minor, "La Reine," Hob. I:85 (1785?) by Haydn (1732-1809).
Piano Concerto in F major, K. 459 (1784) by Mozart (1756-91).
Symphony No. 4 in C minor, "Tragic," D.417 (1816) by Schubert (1797-1828).

Since we had quite a bit of time between the Opera and this evening's concert, we went to the pre-concert talk. It was given by the Philharmonic's scholar-in-residence Charles Bornstein. He had quite a bit of praise for how effect Colin Davis was as a conductor. He also remarked that all three composers in tonight's concert died in Vienna. Someone pointed out Schubert actually died at age 31, even younger than Mozart. To think Schubert could be writing timeless music while a teenage is sobering. Although Bornstein did point out the music sometimes would drift on for a bit too long.

We saw Colin Davis last year, the soloist was also Uchida, whom we have heard several times already. She is generally known as a great Mozart musician, although I find her playing a bit sloppy (too much pedaling?). I am very familiar with the concerto, having played it in the orchestra while I was in high school, and thoroughly enjoyed it. The movements are Allegro, Allegretto, and Allegro assai.

The Haydn symphony is in four movements: Adagio – vivace; Romance (Allegretto); Menuet (Allegretto – Trio); and Finale (Presto). Schubert's symphony is also in four movements: Adagio molto – Allegro vivace; Andante; Menuetto (Allegro vivace – Trio); and Allegro.

By the time I write this (April 6, 2007), I have forgotten most of the concert already. Having to write four reviews in a row doesn't help. I should learn to jot down my thoughts sooner, for what it's worth.

See the New York Times review.

New York City Opera - Rossini's La donna del lago. March 24, 2007.

New York State Theater at Lincoln Center - First Ring Right, Seat D6 ($112.50).

Conductor - George Manahan; Elena - Alexandrina Pendatchanska, Malcolm - Laura Vlasak Nolen, Uberto - Barry Banks, Rodrigo - Robert McPherson, Duglas - Daniel Mobbs.

Story. Elena, of Loch Katrine, is in love with the warrior Malcolm, but her father Duglas would rather she marry Rodrigo, the leader of the insurgent Highland army. Elena encounters Uberto and provides him with shelther; Uberto mistakes this kindness for love. When Uberto finds out Elena's true feelings, he gives Elena a ring that he claims will guarantee the King's aid and protection if she needed it. Rodrigo overhears this and challenges Uberto to a duel; Rodrigo is killed and the conflict is escalated. Duglas is captured and Elena goes to ask King James to pardon him. She discovers Uberto is actually King James of Scotland; he pardons both Duglas and Malcolm. The story ends with the marriage of Elena and Malcom being blessed.

This was a so-so opera. The staging was simplistic, the story was straight-forward, and the singing was only okay.

Three layers of broken city walls represent the ruins of the Highlands. If you don't use your imagination that there is a boat on stage, you won't know there is a lake involved, despite the title. Some free staging advice: a blue sheet or some sort of lighting will have given the effect of a shimmering lake.

The first act is basically used to introduce the main characters: Elena and her three suitors. There is no drama, no comedy, and barely a story in the act. The only action is Elena and Uberto climbing onto this contraption called a boat and appearing at Elena's home. The second act is interesting only when compared to the first one.

The singing was generally okay, the orchestra played well. But you expect that of Rossini's music anyway. The role of Malcolm was played by a woman, which is probably a necessity given the voice range expected. Unfortunately for me, I got terribly confused at times.

See also the Financial Times review.

New York Philharmonic – Esa-Pekka Salonen, Conductor; Yefim Bronfman, Piano. February 3, 2007.

Avery Fisher Hall at Lincoln Center, Second Tier Center, Seat CC22 ($60).

Program

Le tombeau de Couperin (1914-17/1919) by Ravel (1875-1937).
Piano Concerto (2006-07 ; World Premiere) by Esa-Pekka Salonen (b. 1958).
Pictures at an Exhibition (1874, arr. By Ravel 1922) by Musorgsky (1839-81).

Salonen has been the music director of LA Philharmonic for a long time, and I saw him quite a bit when I lived in the LA area in 2001/2002. I actually had a subscription to the 2002/2003 season, but had to give those tickets away because I came back to the East Coast. He burst onto the music scene many years ago and is considered on of the top (still) young conductors.

The first piece by Ravel was supposed to be a tribute to Ravel’s friends who died during World War I, with each of the movements (Prelude, Forlane, Menuet and Rigaudon) all dedicated to different people. In general, however, the music was lively and one would never think of it as an elegy. Perhaps it was how Ravel remembered his friends? In any case, there was no percussion at all, which is unusual for a contemporary symphonic piece. Salonen tends to anticipate the orchestra when he conducts. I always wonder how they maintain precision. For tonight at least I concluded they could not.

This series was the premiere performance of Salonen’s piano concerto, which is dedicated to the soloist Yefim Bronfman. What does one say about the concerto? The program notes contain a very detailed “roadmap” by Salonen on how he constructed the three different movements (simply called I, II and III) of the concerto. One could follow the roadmap to a tee and know exactly where the music is. There are enough interesting constructions that would keep the listener focused, but at the end you are not quite sure what you have heard. Somewhat like looking at a well-executed piece of modern artwork but not understanding whether the artist was trying to get across her emotion or was illustrating a new technique. One can even call this a sonata between the piano and the orchestra, if such a construct exists; even though the piano part contains many virtuoso passages, it often alternates the supporting role with the orchestra. You walk away agreeing Salonen is a great technician, but not sure whether he is an artist.

One of Salonen’s teachers at the Sibelius Academy was Einojuhani Rautavaara, whose work we heard when we were in Hong Kong in December, 2006. It was a concerto for “birds and orchestra” and taped singing of birds was used. Surely, movement II of tonight’s concerto had a working title of “synthetic folk music with artificial birds I”.

I thoroughly enjoyed the Musorgsky piece. The performance was done with a fresh perspective from the get-go. The slight accent of each of the first notes conjures up a long corridor. The texture of the piece was so rich that you wonder how the piano, wonderful and complete an instrument as it is, can bring out the images the orchestra does. The performance was so enjoyable that one can easily overlook the errant entry here or there.

Musorgsky wrote this music in memory of his artist friend Victor Hartmann (1834-73). The composition was inspired by various drawings, watercolors, sketches and architectural plans: ballet of the unhatched chicks, Tuileries; Limoges: the marketplace; catacombas, the Great Gate of Kiev). But most of Hartmann’s works have been lost or destroyed. Musorgsky evidently wasn’t very good technically, so his piano score was sanitized by Rimsky-Korsakov; and the original was already lost when Ravel worked on rearranging that for the orchestra.

See also the New York Times review of an earlier performance.

New York Philharmonic – Riccardo Muti, Conductor; Vadim Repin, Violin. January 20, 2007.

Avery Fisher Hall at Lincoln Center, Second Tier Center, Seat AA109 ($60).

Program
Violin Concerto in D major, Op. 35 (1878) by Tchaikovsky (1840-93).
Symphony No. 3 in C minor, “Le Poeme divin” (“The Divine Poem”), Op. 43 (1902-04) by Scriabin (1872-1915).

We saw Vadim Repin several years ago, and it was one of the more memorable experiences. After one of the strings on his violin snapped during the program, he calmly exchanged his violin with a member of the orchestra and continued playing. At a break in the solo part, he reached into his pocket and took out a set of strings so a fresh one could be put on (and tuned, by Di Cecco). When ready, violins were exchanged again, and Repin continued as if nothing had happened. The audience was awed and some couldn’t help but clap. I had a similar experience as a member of an orchestra during a performance. I sat out the rest of the piece. All that, and he played very well.

We didn’t expect similar fireworks tonight, and none was delivered. Actually we were thinking of not going to the concert. It was a cold and blustery night, which ended up being a long cold snap that hasn’t broken yet as I write this, in an otherwise warmish winter. Also, Anne was to get on a plane to Hong Kong the next day.

Repin plays the 1736 Guarneri del Gesu “von Szerdahely” violin, and the violin’s tone is more brilliant than I would expect. And the singing tone it produces is simply splendid. Nonetheless, the instrument did get swamped by the reduced orchestra during some of the louder orchestra passages. The cadenza of the first movement (Allegro moderato – Moderato assai) was technically challenging, which Repin tackled with ease. However, the harmonics sounded as if the violin was a bit out of tune. He didn’t have to retune though, so maybe it was my ears. The audience applauded after the first movement, which is understandable. After a short interlude called the second movement (Canzonetta, Andante), the piece launched into a lively Finale (Allegro vivacissimo). The piece was played a bit freer than usual. Overall the performance was enjoyable, but I was a bit disappointed as my expectations were very high, broken string notwithstanding.

The Scriabin symphony was of typical “Russian” length at 50 minutes, and consisted of three movements played without pause: Lento – Struggles (Allegro), Sensual Pleasures (Lento – Vivo), and Divine Play (Allegro – Vivo – Allegro). The work is supposedly to reflect Scriabin’s interest in mysticism and disclose his view of a specific philosophical meaning (quoting from the Program Notes). I didn’t get it.

The first movement began with the brass sections, and didn’t sound like a struggle to me despite my effort to listen for it. There was this 5-note motif that kept appearing. The second movement indeed had a mystic sound to it with the interplay between the violins and a “percolating” flute. The solo violin was a bit weak tonight, though. The last movement had French horns recalling the theme of the first movement.

This was the first time we saw Muti. I couldn’t tell how good he was since I was trying to understand the music itself.

The reviewer for New York Times thoroughly enjoyed the program.

New York Philharmonic – Zubin Mehta, conductor; Pinchas Zukerman, violin. January 6, 2007.

Avery Fisher Hall at Lincoln Center, Orchestra 2, Seat Q20 ($59).

Program
Violin Concerto in D major, Op. 61 (1806) by Beethoven (1770-1827).
Le Sacre du printemps (1911-13) by Stravinsky (1882-1971).

Our seats were towards the right side of the orchestra section, so the view of the soloist and the orchestra wasn’t great. However, the acoustics were great, one could hear the instrumentalists very well.

We heard Pinchas Zuckerman in Ithaca in the late 1970s. He was already well-known as a violinist then. In the intervening years, he has done conducting, played the viola extensively, and has taken up teaching; good for him. Zubin Mehta was the director of New York Philharmonic for more than 10 years and (I recall) left under somewhat unpleasant circumstances. I have heard him before (in Los Angeles, I think, and of course many CDs) and quite enjoy his music. He is one of those conductors that don’t seem to conduct rigidly to rhythm but more to cue the sections in before their appearances.

Most violin players I know love the Beethoven concerto. I remember in graduate school playing a David Oistrakh recording over and over again. It is interesting how Beethoven could string together a great sounding, musically challenging, and symphony-like concerto with a lot of scales and arpeggios. A good argument for doing your exercises.

Naturally Zuckerman played brilliantly. He tackled the most difficult pieces with ease, the dynamics were excellent, the give-and-take with the orchestra was good. The cadenzas were remarkable. Sometimes he would play along the orchestra violin parts, and it was interesting (and challenging) to pick out his violin from the other 10 or so that were playing the same tune. Every now and then, especially in the higher registers, there seemed to be problems with intonation; or have my ears deserted me? His violin sounded good, but didn’t seem to have the same smoothness one gets from a Stradivarius. (I researched a bit but couldn’t find out what violin Zuckerman plays.)

All in all a very enjoyable performance, even measured against the Oistrakh standard. The sold-out concert audience was also quite appreciative.

I am actually not as familiar with The Rite of Spring – particularly the second part – as I thought. This piece, rightly or wrongly, is defined by the introductory bassoon passage, which was played well, although not quite in the way most people play it. The composition caused a riot when it was premiered in Paris; by today’s standards it sounded quite tame. It talks about a young maiden’s sacrifice. One of those days I should go see the ballet.

There seemed to be some hesitation on the orchestra’s part towards the end where I expected entrances with convictions. Perhaps that’s due to my lack of understanding of the music, or was it the way Mehta conducted?

New York Philharmonic – David Robertson, conductor; Patricia Bardon, Mezzo-Soprano. December 16, 2006.

Avery Fisher Hall at Lincoln Center, Second Tier Center ($59).

Program
Le Martyre de Saint Sebastien: Fragments symphoniques (1911/13) by Debussy (1862-1918).
Adriana Songs for Mezzo-Soprano and Orchestra (2006 ; US Premiere) by Kaija Saariaho (b. 1952).
Night Ride and Sunrise, Op. 55 (1808) by Sibelius (1865-1957).
La Mer: Trois esquisses symphoniques (1903-05, rev. 1910) by Debussy.

If someone asks why I got tickets for this concert, I won’t be able to answer. Other than Debussy’s La Mer, I didn’t know any of the pieces in the program. And I am not particularly a fan of vocal music. This concert was in the series I subscribe to, and I didn’t bother to exchange the tickets for another concert.

Many concert-goers probably felt the same way I did, and on top of that this was the holiday shopping season, so it wasn’t surprising that the attendance was quite spotty.

I was surprised at the size of the orchestra for the first piece, The Martyrdom of Saint Sebastian: Symphonic Fragments. There were three harps on stage. According to the program notes, Debussy wrote the music for a theater piece by Gabriele d’Annunzio who called it a “mystery play.” The premiere in 1911 wasn’t much of a success, and two years later Debussy asked his collaborator Andre Caplet to create the orchestral suite heard tonight.

The four movements of the piece are titled: The Court of the Lilies; Ecstatic Dance and Act One Finale; The Passion; and The Good Shepherd. The play depicts how Sebastian was killed by arrows. It was generally a pleasant (if a martyr play can be pleasant) piece with interesting lines and orchestration that evoke variously serenity, tension, and suspense.

Adriana Songs is derived from Helsinki-born Saariaho’s opera Adriana Mater and consists of four movements: Autumn Garden; I Feel Two Hearts; Furious Passions; and Life Regained. The story could be compelling, it talks of how good can triumph over evil and hatred. The mood set by the music generally supports that. One can associate different passages variously with struggle, mourning, furor, passion, and rage. Unfortunately, the music is a bit beyond me, it seems to be a bunch of motifs that don’t seem to lead anywhere. The French lyrics sounded pleasant enough – even though I don’t understand it. (Libretto by Amin Maalouf.)

This was Dublin-born Bardon’s New York Philharmonic debut. Her voice, at times quite strong, sometimes carried only intermittently into the Second Tier seat I was in. You wish she had a more auspicious debut.

The basis for Sibelius Night Ride and Sunrise is not entirely clear, but the line “the feelings of someone riding through the forest at night and then, after many hours, sensing the awesome silence of the pre-dawn, and finally glimpsing the ecstatic as the sun rises” sounds plausible and sensible enough. The program notes also say this is very optimistic by Sibelius usual dark standards. I was surprised at how energetic the night ride felt, though.

The three symphonic sketches of Debussy’s La Mer were originally called: Beautiful Sea at the Sanguinaire Islands; Play of the Waves; and The Wind Makess the Sea Dance. By the time he was done with the composition, the movements’ names changed to: From Dawn till Noon on the Sea; Play of the Waves (same); and Dialogue of the Wind and the Sea. Debussy father was an ex-Navy man who had wanted to send his son into a sailing career. The father got into legal trouble and Claude was sent to live with a family friend who steered him to the Paris Consevatoire.

The piece turned out to be less familiar to me than I thought. I generally like Debussy, usually after hearing a piece many times over. I need to listen to this some more, especially since I had trouble staying awake during the performance.

Robertson conducts two series in the 2006/2007 New York Philharmonic Season. By chance I saw both of them (the other one with Gil Shaham the soloist).

Tonight’s concert was a bit beyond me. The program notes (which I quoted extensively) were quite interesting, though.

The New York Times gives the concert a glowing review. They are especially appreciative of the program put together by Robertson and how the La Mer piece was performed.

Hong Kong Philharmonic – Osmo Vanska, conductor; Trey Lee, Cello. December 9, 2006.

Hong Kong Cultural Center Concert Hall, Stall 2, Seat HH31. (HK $200)

Program – Sounds of Nature
Cantus Arcticus, concerto for birds and orchestra (1972) by Einojuhani Rautavaara (b. 1928)
Cello Concerto in E minor, Op. 85 (1919) by Edward Elgar (1857-1934)
Symphony No. 6 in F, Op. 68, Pastoral (1808) by Ludwig van Beethoven (1770-1827)

David & Ruby, who were visiting Hong Kong the same time we were, suggested we attend a concert. Joining us were Jane and Ka Shi. I have never been inside the Cultural Center, and was surprised at the intimacy of the small auditorium. We were seated quite close to the stage, with a good view of the artists.

The program started with a piece by a composer I had never heard of. It was in three movements. There was extensive use of recorded bird songs in all three movements. I wonder if the songs were synchronized down to the beat with the orchestra: that would mean the tape dictates how fast the music is played, which I guess no self-respecting conductor will allow. The piece does not have the rich texture one usually finds with modern music. It was interesting, but quite forgettable.

The Cellist Trey Lee graduated from Harvard with an economics degree. He looks younger than his biography would indicate. Both his technique and intonation seemed excellent – he didn’t seem to need to struggle at all with some of the more difficult passages. However, there was no dynamic range, the whole piece was played through at mf. David thinks it is the instrument; I say get a new instrument. The piece was performed without evoking much emotion despite the program notes talking about a very sad ending.

Beethoven’s Pastoral symphony is always enjoyable. One thing about the program notes: they are like a step-by-step guide for the music, very useful for the uninitiated (above remark about Elgar notwithstanding). The notes talk about the oboe being hesitant (3^rd movement) by design, which is something I hadn’t realized before. However, I didn’t catch the part about the bassoon having only three notes but still had trouble. There were very few miscues, although one would expect Beethoven in any orchestra’s standard repertoire. The dynamics of the orchestra were good.

The conductor, who among other appointments is with the Minnesota Symphony, must have strong knees since he crouched down a lot. At times he was over-emotive. Many conductors put down their batons for certain passages (usually slow), but he overdid it in my opinion.

A narrator came out before the Elgar and Beethoven pieces to talk about the music. I have no idea why that was necessary since the detailed program notes are in English and Chinese. And he didn’t say much. Strange ritual indeed.

One word about the composition of the orchestra. The string players are predominantly Asian (mostly Chinese), but the woodwind and brass sections are still 80% (or higher) Caucasian. I wonder why. Perhaps the turnover in those sections is much slower, or not as many Chinese take to those instruments?

All in all an enjoyable evening undoubtedly helped by lowered expectations.

New York City Opera – Humperdinck’s Hansel and Gretel. November 4, 2006.

New York State Theater at Lincoln Center – First Ring Left, Seat B13 ($112.50)

Conductor – Steven Mosteller; Gretel – Jennifer Aylmer, Hansel – Jennifer Rivera, Mother – Cheryl Evans, Father – Michael Chioldi, The Witch – Jessie Raven.

Story. This opera is based on the Grimm Brothers story. The brother and sister Hansel and Gretel are sent out to forage for food after they ruin the dinner their mother was preparing while horsing around in the house. They get lost and spend the night away from home. The witch gets a hold of them, locks up Hansel to fatten him up to eat, and gets Gretel to work for her. Gretel tricks the witch into opening the oven door and shoves her into the oven. Many other children are freed together with Hansel.

Except in today’s production, the story didn’t take place in a medieval German forest; the setting was turn of the (20^th) century New York City (1893 being the year the opera premiered). Hansel and Gretel were German immigrants, which allowed them to switch between singing in German and English. They lived in the lower East Side, the forest is the Central Park, and the witch’s house is a mansion on – where else – the upper West Side.

My first reactions to the opera were not positive. For whatever reason, the voices of Hansel and Gretel didn’t project very well, which is inexcusable for a sound-enhanced stage. I have always thought English is not a good language for the opera, so I don’t understand why NYC Opera decided to translate the libretto into English. And the chintzy rhyming really drove me up the wall.

Although the program notes say there are many well-known folk tunes, the only one I am familiar with is the aria “When I go to sleep, angels watch over me.” In general the tunes are pleasant. My understanding is German operas tend to run as continuously stories, so there are not too many natural pauses for the audience to applaud.

NYC Opera tends to use younger, up-and-coming artists. Thus you don’t often get 40 year old women trying to play the role of Cio-Cio San (a teenager). Today’s singers are by-and-large age-appropriate (well, the two Jennifers aren't children, for sure), except you can’t make a case of Gretel and her mother’s being underfed.

One final note. Engelbert Humperdinck the rock singer, who was all the rage when I was a young man, actually named himself after EH the opera composer. I guess nowadays both are not that well-known. Adelheid Wette, the librettist, was the wife of the composer.

Despite phrases like “the company deserves praise,” New York Times also has a so-so review of the opera.

New York Philharmonic – Jonanthan Nott, conductor; Peter Serkin, piano. October 28, 2006.

Avery Fisher Hall at Lincoln Center, Second Tier Center, Seat AA109 ($60).

Program
Overture to Konig Stephan (King Stephen), Op. 117 (1811) by Beethoven (1770-1827).
Lontano, for Largo Orchestra (1967) by Ligeti (1923-2006).
Piano Concerto No. 1, BB 91 (1926) by Bartok (1881-1945).
Symphony No. 5 in C minor, Op. 67 (1804-08) by Beethoven.

The first part of the program was a Hungarian affair. Per the program notes, the program was presented to mark the 50^th anniversary of the Hungarian Revolution. King Stephen, the subject of the 10-number Beethoven work, was the founder of “modern Hungry” (and we are still talking late-10^th-century here). Gyorgy Ligeti, who recently passed away, migrated to Germany in 1956. Bela Bartok, of course, is a well-known Hungarian composer.

The Beethoven overture began with a stately trumpet statement, followed by a light passage. The form is classical, and the piece finishes with a flourish.

Ligeti pieces have been used extensively in Stanley Kubrick’s films, including 2001: A Space Odessey and Eyes Wide Shut. Lontano was used in the horror film The Shining, and created – with other pieces - the creepy background in the film. Although I tried to listen for that effect, I couldn’t quite get it. The piece began with the flutes playing a long note and joined by dissonant strings. There was extensive use of tremolo passages in the strings. The tuba and trombone, together with harmonics in the violins, did generate an image of a “glob” or a “thing.” The music gradually built up to some level of controlled chaos, and then gently faded away. Interestingly, considering this piece as being for a “large orchestra,” there were no percussion instruments (not even the timpani).

Percussion was very much in play in the Bartok piece, which began with the timpani followed by the trombone and then the trumpet. The program notes mention this concerto highlights the use of the piano as a percussion instrument, and it is indeed true. The first movement (Allegro moderato – Allegro) was definitely a virtuoso piece, and there were some melodious interludes. Some sections in the middle were a bit difficult to appreciate, though. The movement ended with a flourish. The second movement (Andante) showcased the percussion nature of the piano with a march-like passage. It also had an ethnic sound to it. The construction of the movement was actually quite simple. The snare drums and the brass that started the third movement (Allegro molto) woke up those who had dozed off. The running passages gave the soloist another opportunity to display his virtuosity. Of the contemporary composers, I have found Bartok an easy composer to understand.

A word on Peter Serkin, a tall fellow with a gawkish manner about him. People will always associate him with his famous pianist father Rudolf. He needed the music for this performance, and the pace kept the page turner busy. I haven't heard enough of him to form a strong opinion, but I am quite sure he is a great pianist in his own right.

Beethoven’s Fifth Symphony, whose first movement (Allegro con brio) begins with the famous notes for V, is one of his most well-known compositions. Tonight’s performance was a bit sloppy, with some players jumping in early on quite a few occasions. Avery Fisher Hall has a reputation of being a poor concert hall, and tonight the playing sounded particularly hollow. The cellos began the second movement (Andante con moto), followed by the violins. On the whole the simple movement was pleasantly done and enjoyable. The cellos again began the third movement (Allegro). The French horns made a pleasant appearance. The movement climaxed to lead to the last movement (Allegro) where an earlier theme showed up. The coda was a bit out of control, with the strings struggling a bit with intonation. Nonetheless, Beethoven delivers.

We saw Jonathan Nott earlier this year and I wrote a review of that concert. He seemed to move his wrists less than the last time, and generally put in a good performance.