New York Philharmonic – Alan Gilbert, conductor; Yefim Bronfman, piano; Glenn Dicterow, violin; Carter Brey, cello. June 16, 2014.

Avery Fisher Hall at Lincoln Center.  Orchestra G115 ($68.50.)

Program: The Beethoven Piano Concertos: A Philharmonic Festival.

Triple Concerto for Piano, Violin, and Cello in C major, Op. 56 (1804).

Piano Concerto No. 5 in E-flat major, Op. 73, Emperor (1809).

For me, tonight’s concert is as much about the Emperor Concerto as it is about its being the final program with Glenn Dicterow as the concertmaster.  As music goes, both are easy pieces to enjoy, and the majesty of the Emperor contrasts very well with the genteelness of the Triple.

I have remarked many times on Glenn Dicterow as a soloist, and the comments mostly fall under the “critical” category.  To be fair, that the New York Philharmonic has enjoyed a solid reputation during his 34 years as its concertmaster speaks volumes about his leadership; it is something that he has every right to take credit for, and be proud of.  I joined in the enthusiastic applause as the soloists and Gilbert took the stage; I am sure most of the welcome was directed at Dicterow.

For me the Triple Concerto is best characterized as a Trio played against an orchestra more as an accompaniment than as an equal partner; there are of course some instances that the orchestra asserted itself.  As to the composition itself, a quote from the Playbill is illuminating: the very people who most blame Beethoven for writing below his full powers would be the first to acclaim it as the work of a still greater composer.  Indeed it doesn’t have the “sturm und drang” that characterize so many of the composer’s works; instead it is a light-hearted piece that could even pass itself off as background music.  (I am sure the composition student can find a lot to admire about the work’s details.)

For tonight, it was simply an enjoyable composition played by great musicians.  In case one is wondering, that remark applies to Dicterow too.  One of the constant refrain I have made about Dicterow is his choice of music when he was a soloist: the compositions were chosen more for his fellow musicians and scholars than the typical concert-goer.  I wonder how my opinion would have been shaped if he had performed works by composers such as Lalo, Mendelssohn, and Beethoven, instead of Szymanowski and Dutilleux.  I guess we will never know …

The applause was thunderous afterwards.  I seldom stand up during curtain call – as a matter of principle, great performances are expected of world class players – but I did tonight.  I think the appreciation shown by the audience is well-deserved.  As it was, this series also concluded Bronfman’s two-year stint as artist-in-residence.

By the time the Emperor Concerto was premiered in Leipzig, Beethoven’s deafness had advanced such that he couldn’t introduce it as the soloist.  Evidently the concerto got its nickname because someone shouted “C’est l’Empereur!” during its Viennese premiere.  Beethoven by that time was totally disillusioned with Napoleon.

The piece, like his violin concerto, with its great contrasts, is characteristically Beethoven.  Bronfman just sat there and pounded out a great interpretation.  I said after the last concert that his playing reminded me a lot of Emanuel Ax’s; that was reinforced today.

Overall, this was a great way for the orchestra to conclude its regular season.

It was just a great evening of music.  I do want to record a couple of (small) quibbles.  First, I thought Carter Brey’s cello could be a bit louder.  The cello has a prominent role in the Triple Concerto, and Brey’s playing was exquisite, but I would have like to hear more of it.  The other complaint is the Emperor Concerto calls for a lot of majestic playing that sometimes sounded loud instead.  Most of the time Bronfman’s interpretation was majestic, but every now and then some harshness crept in.

For completeness, the three movements of the Triple Concerto are Allegro, Largo, and Rondo alla Polacca, and those of the Emperor Concerto are Allegro, Adagio un poco mosso, and Rondo: Allegro ma non troppo.

The New York Times review spends most of its energy on discussing the various players, dishing out some insider information in the process.  Interestingly the reviewer didn’t have much more to say about the music or the performance either.

We left Boston this morning, after spending a few days helping out with household duties while our son went to Brazil with a group of friends to watch a few FIFA World Cup matches.  It would have been too stressful to drive home and then come back to the city, so we went straight to the city, getting in at around 4:30 pm.  While we were in Rubenstein Atrium having coffee and deciding what to do, the opportunity to meet with Nancy came up.  She was to start her work with a non-profit that we support in a few days, but was still working in mid-town.  Anne and I sat down with her for about an hour to get to know each other.  So we made great use of the idle time, after all.

New York Philharmonic – Alan Gilbert, conductor; Yefim Bronfman, piano. June 19, 2014.

Avery Fisher Hall at Lincoln Center.  Orchestra.  (Seat W105, $68.50.)

Program – The Beethoven Piano Concerts, a Philharmonic Festival

Piano Concerto No. 2 in B-flat major, Op. 19 (ca. 1788-1801) by Beethoven (1770-1827).

Songs (2014) by Sean Shepherd (b. 1979).

Piano Concerto No. 3 in C minor, Op. 37 (1796-1803) by Beethoven.

This is the second week of the Philharmonic Festival.  On the menu are two familiar Beethoven concertos (of course one could argue they are all familiar.)

In describing tonight’s program, Gilbert talks about discovering new things in Beethoven’s music.  For me, Beethoven’s music is always enjoyable, although I am still puzzled by the different reactions I get when listening to his work as opposed to contemporary work.

Tonight’s program is a good example.  While I “get” Beethoven, I have never found his music simple – the texture, the dynamics, the virtuosity it requires of its performers.  However, paired with the works by Cheung last week and Shepherd this week, the four piano concertos sounded downright simple.  Complexity comprehension and sense of aesthetics are interesting aspects of the human mind.

But I am getting ahead of myself.  Let me simply say that the “simple” concertos still sounded great with Bronfman at the piano and Gilbert on the podium.  The two interacted seamlessly and effortlessly.  I especially like the dynamic range in the playing, although I would like to hear a louder piano (this may be due to where we were seated.)

I had been remarking how the New York Philharmonic audience had a tendency to applaud after each movement.  Actually they didn’t do it for the first three concertos performed in this Festival.  One could sense an urge to do so, though.  They couldn’t resist after the first movement of No. 3.  I can’t really blame them: it was simply a well-told story.  To me it could well have been Emmanuel Ax – for whom I have the highest regard as an artist – at the piano.

I was initially puzzled by the Playbill’s characterization of the third concerto as the first one that sounds like “fully mature Beethoven.”  After listening to it, I agree.  So even this dense person got to understand something new, after all.

The piece by Shepherd is again commissioned by the New York Philharmonic.  Shepherd got his education at Indiana, Julliard, and Cornell, where he did his doctoral work with Roberto Sierra and Steven Stucky.  As he did with Cheung last week, Gilbert had a short interview with Shepherd while the stage was being set up.  What I got out from it was that this is in some sense a palindromic piece designed to fit in between the two Beethoven concertos.  Gilbert further explained that the tempo starts slow, speeds up, and slows down again at the end.

As with the Cheung piece last week, the composition calls for a complex orchestra, with a huge number of percussion instruments, some quite bizarre (such as cabasa, small egg shaker.)  Both Anne and I agree tonight’s piece sounded a lot more interesting than last week’s.  Even though the idea was for the music to get back to where it started, the journey took us somewhere.

Paraphrasing from the Playbill, the piece is structured rather like a song cycle with interconnected movements, with seven episodes suggesting the terrain through which the piece passes: “The Fair,” “The Chapel,” “The Cradle,” “The Cavern,” “The Nursery,” “The Courtyard,” and “The Meadow.”  I would be lying if I say I got them, that’s even with Gilbert and Shepherd providing some listening tips during their short chat.

I am looking forward to next weeks performance of the Emperor and Triple.

The New York Times reviewer liked the third concerto and the Shepherd piece, but was lukewarm towards the first.  I also found another review (at newyorkclassicalreview.com) that panned both concertos, using the word “lackadaisical” to describe the Philharmonic, and complaining that there was no “brio” in the music.  There were a few good words on the Shepherd piece, though.

This summer traffic is getting annoying.  At least by leaving at 4:30 pm, we found off-street parking and time for a relatively leisurely meal at East Szechuan.

New York Philharmonic – Alan Gilbert, conductor; Yefim Bronfman, piano. June 12, 2014.

Avery Fisher Hall at Lincoln Center.  Orchestra.  (Seat Q114, $68.50.)

Program – The Beethoven Piano Concerts, a Philharmonic Festival

Piano Concerto No. 1 in C major, Op. 15 (ca. 1795/1800) by Beethoven (1770-1827).

Lyra (2013) by Anthony Cheung (b. 1982).

Piano Concerto No. 4 in G major, Op. 58 (1806) by Beethoven.

Over the course of three weeks, Gilbert and Bronfman will go through all of Beethoven’s piano concertos.  On each of the first two programs will be a world premiere of a composition commissioned by the Philharmonic.  The third week will feature Glen Dicterow and Carter Brey in Beethoven’s Triple Concerto.  We have tickets to all three weeks.

Beethoven’s piano concertos, when played well, are always enjoyable.  Today’s two are no exception.  We have heard Bronfman on multiple occasions before, mostly performing more virtuoso pieces (Tchaikovsky and Rachmaninoff, for instance.)  While the Beethoven concertos surely present their set of challenges, I am sure they are more modest in terms of technical challenges, despite the chromatic runs that take make one hold his breath.  If I remember correctly, Bronfman tends to be quite exaggerated in his movements, often times lifting himself from the bench as he pounded chords out of the keyboard.  Tonight he was considerably more subdued, and instead let the music flow effortlessly from his fingers.

It is interesting to contrast the much more complex fourth concerto with the (close-to) Mozartean first.  (Many think the first (Op. 15) was probably written after the chronologically first piano concerto written by Beethoven.)  The cadenzas, written by Beethoven, require a high level of proficiency.  I don’t remember the one for No. 1 was this long, though.

Sandwiched between the two concertos was the work by Cheung.  The description was certainly quite interesting, with words and phrases like “Orpheus’s lyre,” “Beethoven 4^th’s opening chord,” “instruments tuned a quarter-tone below others,” and “tapestry of luxury.”  Whoever managed to use these phrases in an essay has a much better command of the language than I have.  Cheung’s credentials certainly was impressive: Harvard undergraduate, doctorate from Columbia, and now teaching at University of Chicago.  He was one of the four that Henri Dutilleux to whom distributed prize money the latter won.  The piece is dedicated to Dutilleux’s memory.  As the orchestra was setting up, Gilbert had a short dialog with Cheung that further piqued my interest: there is recorded sound (music?) towards the end that starts as puzzling to the listener but ultimately ties everything together.  Cheung indicated that he researched many prior Orpheus music (Monteverdi, Gluck, and Stravinsky.) He also mentioned (nonchalantly, it would appear) that the audience from the day before seemed to enjoy it.

Cheung can either be a Chinese (Cantonese) or Korean surname.  Anne’s remark is no Cantonese can be that good.  (She was kidding, and we are both Cantonese.)  I couldn’t offer any counter-examples with the possible exception of myself (again kidding.)

The Playbill says the music is about 10 minutes long, but Gilbert announced that it was close to 20 minutes.

What do I think of the piece?  It certainly is interesting.  One regret I have was not having read the Playbill ahead of time so I could remind myself what Beethoven’s concerto sounded like.  With Lyra performed before the concerto, I couldn’t tell at all what the reference was.  The music is generally quite complex, oftentimes players in the same section appeared to be playing different notes.  The list of percussion instruments is long, with many instruments I hadn’t seen before: Thai gongs, sizzle cymbal, spring coil, suspended cymbals, low gongs, low log drums, and large metal sheet.  Too bad our seats did not offer a good view of the stage.  However, the music felt like a Brownian motion: lots of activities without noticeably moving forward; a complex case of Philip Glass, if I may.  When it was over, there was polite applause but certainly not quite what Gilbert's remark would lead one to expect.  I told Anne I was glad Cheung is Korean.

I met up with CS during intermission and talked a bit about Lyra.  He asked me if I could write music like that, I said no, but I could probably play it as anything resembling what he wrote would be okay.  (Actually some passages look quite complex, so if I could play it, it would be with a lot of practice.)  And he told me Cheung is of Chinese descent; oh well.  And to have your composition commissioned and premiered by the New York Philharmonic probably is as good as it gets, and something to be greatly admired.

Here is the New York Times review.  The reviewer liked Bronfman’s playing, and had good things to say about the Cheung piece.

Traffic was again bad going into the city, but we got there in time to find off-street parking and to get takeout food from Europan. The concert was a bit long, and when we got to the Thomas Edison Rest Area on the Turnpike, only Burger King was open.

American Ballet Theatre. Prokofiev’s Cinderella. June 11, 2014.

Metropolitan Opera at Lincoln Center.  Balcony.  (Seat C5, $55).

Choreography by Frederick Ashton, Set and costume design by David Walker.

Conductor – Charles Barker; Cinderella – Xiomara Reyes, The Prince – Joseph Gorak, Step-sisters – Kenneth Easter and Thomas Forster, The Fairy Godmother – Devon Teuscher.

Last month I heard the New York Philharmonic perform a selection of music from Prokofiev’s Cinderella, conducted by Vladimir Jurowski.  My remarks were the music was nice enough, but it was mostly flat and lacking in dramatic elements.  That encounter raised my interest in the ABT’s production.  While my interest in ballet is at best lukewarm, I was wondering if seeing the whole production would make the experience more compelling.

In two words, it did.

Actually with dancers on stage the music became mostly accompaniment.  To the extent I noticed it, the orchestra put in a great performance.  The most dramatic passage was again the clock ticking and the chimes ringing towards midnight.  With the visual effect, the music just came to life.

The Playbill contains an article on the choreography.  It was done by Ashton a short four years after Prokofiev wrote the music in 1944.   For various reasons (mostly artists’ egos, in my judgment,) this is the first time the choreography is adopted by the ABT.  To me it didn’t look dated at all.  It requires a lot of physicality from the dancers, and contains many elegant patterns and formations.

In reading over the roster, I was surprised to see that Gorak is “only” a member of the Corps de ballet (the higher categories are Principal and Soloist).  That must make him a rising star in the company.  Not that I am in any position to judge, but to me that would be well-deserved.  One could make a case he failed to nail a step here or there, but overall he was a believable prince.  That Reyes is petite (more petite than your typical ballerina) probably made all the lifting Gorak had to do easier.  The two worked well together, and the pas de deux in Act II is as “fairy-tale” as one can expect.  In addition, much athleticism is required of both dancers; in particular, Reyes had to dance around the stage, putting in about 40 spins in the process.

The roles of the step-sisters are traditionally performed by men.  As in the Rossini opera, they provide a comedic element to the story.  The Fairy Godmother is another substantial role.

The plot here hews closely to the version I am familiar with.  The exceptions would be the star fairies and the four season fairies.  I guess adding these roles make for more interesting visual effects.  And there was magic, at least attempts at it, including a beggar transforming into the Fairy Godmother and a pumpkin turning into a coach.  For Cinderella turning back into a village girl at midnight, even though we didn’t see it, we are sure they just had two people on stage at the same time.

So in the recent past I have seen Rossini’s opera Cenerentola, Jurowski’s selection for the orchestra, and the ballet as Prokofiev first imagined it.  If asked which version I prefer, my answer would be the opera.  However, as a general recommendation, I find to my surprise that I would recommend the ballet.

The lengthy New York Times review actually makes for rather interesting reading, providing a good analysis of the history, the performers (it was a different cast), as well as the reviewer’s opinion on many different aspects of the performance.  And it’s amply clear the ballet world has its very own lexicon. I couldn’t tell if the reviewer at the end enjoyed the performance, though.

Early on the day of performance, the ABT website (technically the metopera website) showed quite a few empty seats.  So we basically drove in, expecting to buy tickets at a discount at the Atrium.  ABT, unfortunately, is not in the program, so we ended up buying tickets at full price.  The performance was not well-attended at all, with over half of the seats in the balcony and the family circle unoccupied.

Anne had a class in Atlantic Highlands and we left there at 5:15 pm or so.  Traffic was heavy, we got into town close to 7 pm; I couldn’t find off-street parking so I put my car in the garage, which I hadn’t done for a while.  Anne and I shared a wrap bought at Avery Fisher, and we got some food off a street-vendor on the way back.

Budapest Festival Orchestra – Ivan Fischer, conductor; Garrick Ohlsson, piano. June 1, 2014.

Avery Fisher Hall at Lincoln Center.  Orchestra (Seat DD104, $63.50).

All Dvorak (1841-1904) Program

Slavonic Dances, Op. 72 (1886-87) Nos. 2 and 1

Piano Concerto in G minor (1876)

Legend No. 6 (1881)

Symphony No. 8 in G major (1889)

If I remember correctly, these tickets were bought during last year’s Thanksgiving sale.  Meanwhile, our church scheduled a Benefits Concert that Anne had to help organize, so she couldn’t come.  CS agreed to come and offered to do the driving.

The program, a combination of the “popular” and the “intellectual,” largely lived up to its promise.  I think it is a great tribute to Fischer and the musicians that an orchestra that started 30 or so years ago now enjoys the reputation it does.

Each of the halves begins with a short lyrical piece that is typically Dvorak.  The Slavonic dances (No. 2. Starodavny; No. 1. Odzernek) are quite popular and pleasant.  Legend is much softer and simpler-sounding than the dances, but equally pleasant.  All three were initially written as four-hand piano pieces and orchestrated by Dvorak later.

Dvorak’s piano concerto is seldom played.  Actually CS’s reaction when I told him about the program was “I didn’t know Dvorak had a piano concerto.”  And his daughter has a doctoral degree in piano performance from Julliard!  One thing about virtuoso techniques that I don’t quite understand is what used to be considered unplayable pieces are now routinely performed.  Many violin concertos fall into that category: Tchaikovsky and Brahms are examples.  It is not like sports where modern techniques can be used to improve posture and nutrition (maybe it is but is kept a secret?)  Not being a pianist, this concerto didn’t look all that different from other difficult ones I have seen performed.  In any case, Ohlsson made it look quite easy.

What was unexpected was the piece didn’t seem to want to go anywhere.  Much of it felt fragmentary, incidental, and seemed only to loiter about.  It was like Dvorak was putting together his individual ideas but failed to make a comprehensive statement out of them.  To the reader who thinks I am nit-picking again, I say this: the sentiments are that of Brahms’ as quoted in the Playbill (slightly edited).  Indeed individual passages or sections sounded quite good, but I couldn’t quite anticipate, nor could I understand, where the music was going next.

Ohlsson played an encore.  I am sure it was a Brahms Intermezzo.  CS was duly impressed when I told him that.  The reason I know is because this was music I happened to study when I was in high school.  Hearing it played well and looking at it as a music score are rather different experiences.

I remember being unpleasantly surprised when I heard Dvorak’s Eighth recently.  I didn’t remember which orchestra played it, so I told CS it might have been the New York Philharmonic.  In any case, today’s experience was completely different.  The symphony was as enjoyable as any other Dvorak composition I have heard (well, there is the New World Symphony, and the string serenade.)  I think Fischer just told a better story.  And – drum roll – I actually had so-so encounters of this symphony played by the NJSO and the NY Phil.

It was overall a good experience.  Interestingly I just got the Great Performers tickets I bought for the following season, and I noticed that one of them is Fischer and the Budapest Festival Orchestra.  I feel ambivalent about it, so I probably should temper my assessment somewhat.

We left Middletown at about 1 pm, hoping to catch lunch in Manhattan.  A bus breakdown right at Exit 16E caused such a delay that I only had time to gulp down a sandwich bought at Avery Fisher Hall.  The return trip was quite smooth by comparison, even though there was congestion getting to Lincoln Tunnel.

New Jersey Symphony – Jacques Lacombe, conductor; James Ehnes, violin. May 31, 2014.

Count Basie Theatre, Red Bank.  Balcony Center (Seat J104, $29.)

Program

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

Ein Heldenleben (A Hero’s Life), Op. 40 (1898) by Strauss (1864-1949).

There is now no doubt in my mind.  New Jersey Symphony is a much better orchestra under Lacombe.  Tonight’s performance was totally enjoyable.

I am sure I have made similar remarks before.  One summer during graduate school Anne (then my girlfriend) was visiting from California, and we heard the Beethoven violin concerto over and over again.  Even though having a small record collection might have been a reason for the repetition, that recording of David Oistrakh became for me the definitive way the concerto should be played.  I am quite sure my recollection is not accurate, but in my mind I am clear what a great performance of the concerto will sound like.

Other than a slight intonation problem here or there, Ehnes met all my expectations.  The tone from his 1715 “Marsick” Stradivarius was clean, and he made it sing in a most enjoyable way.  From where I sat, the balance between the soloist and the orchestra was just perfect.  The orchestra has its own statements to make, sometimes together with, often times apart from, the soloist.  But neither party overwhelmed the other: an easy accomplishment with an engineered recording, not so easy in a live concert.

It was just beautifully done.

I last heard the Strauss piece played by the New York Philharmonic in December 2013 and remember walking away not particularly impressed one way or another.  Today’s experience was much much better.

A particular standout was how the concertmaster Eric Wyrick played the solo lines in the Hero’s Companion section.  It was so much clearer and cleaner than the way it was done by Glen Dicterow.  I did worry a bit if Wyrick was going to make any mistakes; he didn’t as far as I could tell.  Lacombe asked for, and got, a huge dynamic range from the orchestra, which made the story behind the tone poem come to life.

Interestingly, the Program Notes also speaks to the fact Strauss wrote this about himself when he was only 34 (he lived to be 75.)  The annotator took all that with a grain of salt, attributing the idea behind Strauss’s reverence for Beethoven and the music’s satirical nature (portraying his wife Pauline as a quick-tempered person and his critics in an unflattering light, for instance.)

I got two tickets for this concert at a discount.  Anne couldn’t go because she had to babysit Reid, so I was hoping someone would be asking for a ticket at the venue.  Turns out the concert had many empty seats – the balcony section wasn’t even half full – which was just too bad.  Also, there was more of a tendency for the audience to whisper among themselves during a performance.  I am beginning to feel the same way I do about the Hong Kong Philharmonic – the orchestra deserves a better audience.

I found this review in examiner.com, the reviewer saw the performance on May 30.  He had a lot of good things to say about the performance, which I agree with.  His description of the tone poem is particularly interesting and informative.  Reading the headlines of some of his reviews, he appears to be a fan of the NJSO, and his reviews are all examples of the “it’s all great” category.

Benefit Concert at the Chinese America Bible Church of New Jersey

CABCNJ, Gibson Place, Freehold, NJ

Singers
Ling-Jun Liu
Shane Wu

Our friend Don and Agnes found out about this church and this concert, and I decided to tag along to have a look.  The church uses an old office building, its main sanctuary seats about 150.  Unfortunately for tonight perhaps 30 or so people showed up.  They will tour several local churches, lets hope the attendance ends up being better.

Liu was born in Shanghai, spent some time in Hong Kong, and did her voice training in Taiwan.  She worked mostly as a cabaret singer in the 70s but emigrated to Canada quite early in her career.  She was baptized in 2002 and has since been using her voice as a ministry.  She didn't hesitate to let the audience know that she turned 60 this year.  Shane Wu is a young minister who - per Liu - can sing, can play the piano, and can preach.

The songs sung in the evening were mostly Christian Pop (Chinese), with a couple written by Liu.  She used mostly pre-recorded band accompaniment, with Wu providing piano accompaniment for one of the songs.  This concert was meant to be evangelistic in nature, but I think everyone who attended was already a Christian.

Since Ellie was visiting that evening, and the program started late, I rushed out of there right afterwards.  In exchange for a modest contribution I got a couple of her CDs.

Flyer for the concert.

New York Philharmonic – Vladimir Jurowski, conductor; Nicola Benedetti, violin. May 23, 2014.

Avery Fisher Hall at Lincoln Center.  Orchestra 1 (Seat S101, $67.)

Program

Violin Concerto No. 1, Op. 35 (1916) by Szymanowski (1882-1937).

Selections from Cinderella (Zolushka) (1940-44) by Prokofiev (1891-1953).

I didn’t include this concert as part of the season subscription due to two reasons: I didn’t quite get the violin concerto when I heard it performed a couple of years ago by Glenn Dicterow; and though I enjoyed Prokofiev’s Romeo and Juliet (both in concert and as a ballet), I didn’t feel a particular urge to listen to it again.  The astute reader will say “but this is a different ballet.”  Indeed it is, somehow my mental block didn’t clear until a couple of weeks ago.  Meanwhile, NY Phil was offering $59/$39 seats; so the stars are in alignment.  I also found out Janine Jansen, who was on the program, had to withdraw, and Nicola Benedetti would be performing.  Benedetti certainly has an impressive resume, including an appointment as MBE in 2013.

I don’t recall much from Dicterow’s performance, except (perhaps) remarking why would he make such a selection and that the New York Times reviewer says Dicterow “owns” this concerto.  A second hearing does allow one to gain more insight into a particular composition.  Indeed the Playbill notes (which I read online the day before) makes the music quite interesting, describing how Symanowski’s music was influenced by others such as Chopin and Wagner, and how he tried to establish a Polish style.  The concerto was written for his close friend Pawel Kochanski, with the latter contributing most of the cadenza at the end.

In many ways this was a better performance; however, better doesn’t mean good – I was just a little less puzzled by the composition.  Since Benedetti was called upon to play on short notice, use of the music score is understandable; she wasn’t glued to the music as Dicterow was, actually.  There is no doubt the music calls for great virtuosity from the performer with its difficult double stop and harmonics passages; surprisingly there was little use of the pizzicato or staccato.  I also wonder about the need for the cadenza; it didn’t appear to be any more difficult than the composition, and didn’t sound like a recap of the music either.  There was some drama at the end, but not nearly enough to make this sound much more an etude to me.

One other surprise was the violin, a 1717 Stradivarius.  I expected it to sound much fuller and more brilliant than it did.  Benedetto also had more problems with intonation than I expected.  Someone was sound asleep in the audience during a good part of the performance.  I wonder if there is an etiquette to what his (unlikely her) neighbors should do – a gentle poke?

Prokofiev extracted between seven to eight movements of Cinderella to create three different orchestral suites.  He reworked the music for an orchestral presentation without regard for the story.  For this concert Jurowski utilized 21 movements that keeps the story line intact. For completeness, the selections are as follows.  From Act One: Introduction (Andante dolce), Pas de chale (Allegretto), Cinderella (Andante dolce), the Sisters’ New Clothes (Vivo), The Dancing Lesson (Allegretto), Cinderella Dreams of the Ball (Andante dolce), Fairy Godmother Returns (Adagio).  From Act Two: Dance of the Courtiers (Andante grazioso), Mazurka and Entrance of the Prince (Allegretto), Grand Waltz (Allegretto), Promenade (Allegro tranquillo), Duet of the Prince and Cinderella (Adagio), Waltz-Coda (Allegro espressivo), Midnight (Allegro moderato – Moderato).  From Act Three: The Prince’s First Galop (Presto – Andante), Temptation (Moderato – Allegretto), The Prince’s Second Galop (Presto), The Prince’s Visit (Vivace), The Prince Finds Cinderella (Adagio passionate), Amoroso (Andante dolcissimo).

I saw the Rossini opera where the storyline didn’t follow the “traditional” fairy tale.  The movement descriptions above are straightforward enough.  Except oftentimes I couldn’t tell when a movement ends and the next one begins.  Without dancers on stage telling the story, most people probably would find it difficult to reconstruct the narrative.  Actually for most part the music sounded just so-so, without drama.  One notable exception was when mid-night approaches: the tick-tock sound of the wood blocks followed by bells chiming twelve times added quite a bit of urgency (this was lacking in the Rossini opera).  Indeed the music from Act 3 did have some sense of urgency and ecstasy in it.

I was surprised this series of concerts constituted the debut for Jurowski with the New York Philharmonic.  I did watch his brother Dmitri conduct the Hong Kong Philharmonic three years ago.  Compared to Dmitri, Vladimir’s movements were more exaggerated.  The orchestra seemed to respond well.  Unfortunately, I do not know the music on today’s program well enough to distinguish between a good and a great performance.

The New York Times reviewer has a lot of good things to say about the Syzmanowski piece.  She isn’t that enamored of the Prokofiev ballet either, opining – among other misgivings – that it is too long.  ABT will be performing this ballet in June.  The ballet is even longer at close to two hours; I am a bit tempted to go see it, though.

I went to the 2 pm concert by myself, taking PATH into the city from Jersey City and going back to New Jersey via NJ Transit.

The USNA Women’s Glee Club Commissioning Week Concert – Cindy Bauchspies, director. May 20, 2014.

Mahan Hall, US Naval Academy.  Orchestra Center (Seat C205, $19.)

Johnny was my high school classmate (in Hong Kong) and college roommate (in Ithaca, NY); we have known each other for about 45 years! His daughter just completed her first year as a midshipman at the USNA, and Johnny flew out to Maryland to meet up with her for a week or so.  I decided to spend a day down there to see them.  Stephanie sings in the Women’s Glee Club, and they have a concert during the week.

There are many events scheduled for the week, my main objective was to catch up with an old friend, so we just spent time walking on the grounds, chatting away as we did.  The Blue Angels were practicing for a show the following day.  I am not a fan of daredevil shows, but still appreciated the precision of this group of highly skilled pilots.  We also visited the dorm, the chapel, and a couple of museums.

The Glee Club consists of about 50 young women, about 11 of them are graduating this year.  They have a rather busy touring schedule, including a visit to the JFK Library in Boston earlier this year.

The program was relatively short at a bit over an hour, with a good mix of traditional music (such as the National Anthem and America the Beautiful) and modern music (Ave verum Corpus by Poulenc, for instance).  They also put on a “staged performance” of “Forget about the Boy” from “Thoroughly Modern Millie.”  Most of the songs were performed a cappella, a few had the piano as accompaniment.

We had a quick snack at about 5 pm at the Chick and Ruth Delly before the concert with a few of Stephanie’s classmates.  The single crab cake platter was a reasonable $16 (or so).  The crab cake was quite filling, but Johnny and I still stopped by Denny’s for an omelet and dessert (respectively) afterwards.

A pleasant day, even though I had to drive close to 200 miles each way.

New York Philharmonic – Bernard Haitink, conductor. May 16, 2014.

Avery Fisher Hall at Lincoln Center.  First Tier Center (Seat BB113, $54.)

Program

Symphony No. 3 in D minor (1895-96, rev. through 1906) by Mahler (1860-1911).

Artists

Bernarda Fink, mezzo-soprano; Women of New York Choral Artists, Joseph Flummerfelt, director; Brooklyn Youth Chorus, Dianne Berkun-Menaker, artistic director.

At about 100 minutes, this must be the longest symphony I have encountered.  It was last performed by the New York Philharmonic in September 2009, not that long ago.  I did go to a New York Phil concert that month, but it was not the same program (whew.)

When first completed, Mahler provided a program for the symphony as follows.  Part One: Pan awakes.  Summer Marches In. (Pan’s procession) Part Two: What the flowers of the meadow tell me; What the animals of the forest tell me; What man tells me; What the angels tell me; and What love tells me.  The first part is over 30 minutes, about a third of the entire composition.  For whatever reason Mahler withdrew all his program-related markings in the music, and provided rather sterile tempo markings.  Part One: 1. Forcefully, Decisively.  Part Two: 2.  Tempo di minuetto, Moderately; 3. Comodo.  Scherzando.  Unhurriedly; 4. Very slow.  Misterioso.  Pianississimo throughout. (O Mensch! Gib acht! From Nietzsche’s Also sprach Zarathustra); 5. Joyous in tempo and jaunty in expression (Bimm bamm – Es sungen drei Engel, from Des Knaben Wunderhorn); 6; Slow.  Calm.  Deeply felt.

I could use the excuse that my memory has faded considerably over the course of the last five days; in actual fact I couldn’t make too many informed remarks about what I heard.

Bernard Haitink has had a long and distinguished career as a conductor.  I thought I had never seen him, but a check of my blog revealed one encounter in November, 2011.  The most salient point is his stamina.  When I saw the stool on the podium, I expected him to walk out in a cane.  He didn’t, and he used the stool only occasionally, in between movements and during some of the slower passages.  He also had a long program in November 2011.  One difference would be how he was treated: like a rock star last time, (only) enthusiastically this time.

This was a debut performance by the Buenos Aires-born Bernarda Fink.  While there was nothing wrong with the performance, and indeed she projected well, the role is quite limited (perhaps less than 15 minutes of singing.)  The chorus part was similarly short in duration.  While Fink only had to come out during Part Two, the poor choral members had to sit through the whole program.  I forgot my binoculars, so couldn’t tell if anyone was falling asleep while waiting.

Playbill describes this long symphony as one of Mahler’s easiest for the audience, and it is indeed so.  It still has a lot of the wanderings that (for me) characterize Mahler’s music, and it also has a heavy dosage of beautiful brass passages.  There are extended passages of relative simplicity that are easy to grasp.  The trombone certainly gets quite a bit of a work out, and there was an offstage trumpet (or rather a "posthorn" per my research) that sang out beautifully.

Two sets of timpani were used in the piece.  At the end they were playing in unison.  I don’t know if it is by design, but one note was slightly off and as a result you hear this quick beat.  Anne did note one of the timpanists feverishly trying to tune his set of drums.  She also observed one of the first violin players broke a string on her instrument, and when Fink came on stage she handed Glenn Dicterow a bag which he in turn gave to the violinist.  Anne kept gesturing that to me, but I didn’t quite know what she was trying to tell me.  So I missed that also.  I guess I was not particularly observant that day.

Overall it was a very enjoyable concert.  Mahler wrote most of his symphonies by the scenic Attersee in Upper Austria.  The Playbill relays a remark he made to Bruno Walter who was enjoying the scenery: “You need not stand staring at that; I have already composed it all.”  Indeed I have described Mahler’s music astaking the listeners on a stroll, but not quite to the level of having “composed it all.”

The New York Times review talks a bit about the orchestras with a Mahler tradition (in addition to New York Philharmonic, the Royal Concertgebouw, Vienna Philharmonic, and the Berlin Philharmonic), and the reviewer enjoyed this performance.  He actually recalls Haitink conducting the Vienna Philharmonic in the Concertgebouw in 1995, that’s quite impressive. 

Perhaps a preview of summer Friday afternoon traffic, it took us a while to drive into the city (from Jersey City), and I had trouble finding off-street parking.  Anne had to box up the food she bought at Europan for me to gulp down in less than 10 minutes.  I still enjoyed the ham and cheese quiche.

Bach Festival Day 1, The Bach Choir of Bethlehem, Greg Funfgeld, conductor. May 2, 2014.

Events attended (all at Lehigh University):

Distinguished Scholar Lecture – Michael Marissen, Black Box Theater, Zoellner Arts Center (free).

Bach Cantatas, Packer Memorial Church (Lower Transept Seat LL11, $29).

Dinner and Discussion, Asa Packer Room, University Center – Lecture by Larry Lipkis ($35).

Soloists

Cantata BWV 106 – Gottes Zeit ist die allerbeste Zeit.  Agnes Zsigovics - soprano, Daniel Taylor – Countertenor, Benjamin Butterfield – tenor, William Sharp, baritone.

Cantata BWV 56 – Ich will den Kreuzstab gerne tragen.  Daniel Lichti, bass-baritone.

Cantata BWV 131 – Aus der Tiefen rufe ich, Herr zu dir. Zsigovics, Taylor & Butterfield.

I wasn’t planning on going to this event as I had a scheduled trip to Hong Kong.  Now that the HK trip is canceled, and I also ran into Dave and Vivien in Newark a few days ago, I decided to go.  Bethlehem is about 80 miles away, but it is mostly highway traffic, so my plan was to get there for the entire day’s program and come home after the evening concert.  I was coming down with a cold and didn’t feel that great, so I decided to leave after the dinner talk, forgoing the evening concert for which I got a ticket.

It is always interesting to go to these events with David.  He has a genuine interest and detailed knowledge in Bach, and I always learn something from him.  (He is the same person I go to these Princeton chamber music concerts during the summer.)  And today was no exception.  To him and to the many who take the Bach Festival seriously, I say good on you folks.  For me learning a thing or two about the composer every couple of years is enough.

My deepest “insight” this year is Bach for me is more fun to analyze than to listen to.  It is amazing that the composer can get many lines going contrapuntally.  I can understand and appreciate this on paper, but frankly I have a hard time tracking more than 3 lines at the same time, even with the music in front of me.  If I am listening to it without the music score, it is worse.  While I was in college I was considered one with a rather good ear (among students majoring in music), so I really doubt I am particularly bad at this compared to your average Bach listener.

Dave relayed a story about how Mozart looked at 8 individual parts of a Bach composition and says “that makes sense.”  I can probably “get it” if I spend a lot of time reading, analyzing, and playing out the lines individually and at the same time.  (Indeed I did analyze a few cantatas during music composition classes.)  However, for now I shall adopt the “if I don’t know what it is, I may not care I miss it” attitude.

I got to the lecture by Marissen late (there was a tie-up on Route 287).  It took me a while to grasp what he was trying to say.  I believe it has to do with how one can interpret Bach’s cantata in a secular way or a religious way.  I have decided not to challenge him or agree with him (it will be in my mind in either case, I had no intention of talking to him in person.)  Dave says he is generally a great speaker.

The soloists are the same as two years ago (I think they are permanent staff).  Generally the singing is good.  I was reminded by Dave that in Bach’s day boys sang the part of the soprano and countertenors sang alto.

Somehow I get the feeling that the audience is not really going to these concerts with the mind of a critic; they are there to get another few cantatas under the belt.  Which is okay with me.  Bach left behind over 200 cantatas (guess who my source is) so at six a year that will take them quite a while.

The talk during dinner by Lipkis was more interesting.  It was more like a pre-concert talk as he talked about each of the evening concert cantatas in some detail.  I joked to Dave that he made it so interesting that I wanted to stay, particularly since the evening cantatas deploy a larger choir and more orchestra instruments.   I didn’t stay as I don’t know if I could hold out for that long.

This was the 107^th festival.  They were offering discounts of up to 40% on their tickets, which is not a good sign.  While I am not crazy about it, I don’t mind a heavy dosage of Bach every year or so.

This was an abbreviated trip, but I did learn something, and got to visit again with old friends.  It was a good trip.  I read over my notes from the first festival I attended (2012,) and find to my surprise I am much more positive this year.

Metropolitan Opera – Rossini’s Le Cenerentola. April 25, 2014.

Metropolitan Opera at Lincoln Center, Balcony (Seat G20, $98.50).

Story.  This is basically the well-known children story Cinderella, with a few notable differences that do not change the basic plot.  First, we have an evil step-father instead of an evil step-mother.  There was no pumpkin turning into a carriage, no rats that turn into coachmen; instead of a fairy godmother, we have an angel whose usual occupation is advisor to the Prince.  No glass slippers either: here we have matching bracelets.

Conductor – Fabio Luisi.  Angelina (Cinderella) – Joyce DiDonato, Don Ramiro (Prince) – Javier Camerena, Don Magnifico (Step-father) – Alessandro Corbelli, Clorinda and Tisbe (step-sisters) – Rachelle Durkin and Patricia Risley, Alidoro (advisor to Prince and part-time angel) – Luca Pisaroni, Dandini (Prince’s valet) – Pietro Spagnoli.

The problem with going to an opera with certain expectations is one’s reaction if those expectations are not met.  So let me first get those of out the way.

Biggest problem?  Not enough Joyce DiDonato.  Her role isn’t limited in any sense of the word, but it wasn’t dominating either.  And I would have liked a lot more arias out of Cinderella.  Next problem: not enough magic.  I think everyone going to see a show titled Cinderella expect to see pumpkins, rats, and hearing a clock that strikes twelve – with dire consequences.  All these tricks are well within the capability of the Met; unfortunately the score doesn’t call for this.  The only thing close to magical is when Alidoro as angel calls down a box from above, and inside the box is the gown for the Prince’s ball, and into which Cinderella appears.  Speaking of the sets, Spartan is the word for it.  Not that I usually look for elaborate sets, but you can get only so much out of a sofa with uneven legs, for instance.  Also, to make up for lack of midnight magic, there are many large clocks stuffed inside various closets all indicating midnight.  Either a hint for the audience to use its imagination, or a reminder that there is midnight, but no magic.

All these pale in comparison to how enjoyable the opera ends up being.

I have said every time I watch an opera buffa that I am not a fan of that genre.  This one is, however, as good as it gets.  (The other one that comes to mind is Flagstaff.)  I don’t know how to characteristic the story, but there are enough comedic elements in there to make me chuckle.

That starts at the very beginning.  The two sopranos singing the roles of the step-sisters don’t look the least bit alike, but they sing in such a way that they can be mistaken for twins.  The powers that be decided the two artists don’t rate a description in the “cast” section, but I thought they did really well, and they had rather substantial roles.

DiDonato delivered just the way I expected her to be: excellently.  Even though her mezzo-soprano voice didn’t penetrate (for lack of a better term) as well as the two sopranos, it still carried into the balcony beautifully.  In this opera the music demands a lot from the singers, but she made it sound effortless.  Interesting Cinderella in this story sometimes fights back, so there are no tear-jerkers, although the final aria comes close to being one.  Indeed before the final aria I thought Cinderella was underutilized in the story, luckily I hanged on because the Playbill talks glowingly about that aria.  And in this case it was not oversold.  After watching Maria Stuarda with DiDonato in the title role, I called that experience “perfect,” or close to it.  I must say this one doesn’t quite rise to that level.

We heard Camerena for the first time last month as Elvino in La Sonnambula.  I thought he was good.  He was great in this one, and he acted as if he really enjoyed it.  If I had gone to this opera expecting a great performance from the tenor, I wouldn’t have been disappointed.  I must have gone to over 50 Met performances over the years, and this was the first time ever I saw an encore.  (The only other encore was in the Muti-conducted Nabucco performance we saw in Rome.)  To be fair, this was well rehearsed in advance since everyone seems to know what excerpts to play.  In the publicity for this opera, he gets second billing to Juan Diego Flores.  I wonder how Flores would compare.

All the other singers pulled their weight also.  Spagnoli as the valet provided some of the better comedic moments.

Rossini’s music is light and fast, and the orchestra did a superb job.  The first thing we noticed was the much reduced size of the orchestra.  Four cellos and two double-basses, if I remember correctly.  I wonder if that is to accommodate the singers.  I don’t remember reduced size orchestras in other Rossini operas I have seen.  In the same vein, I read for Maria Stuarda some arias had their keys lowered to more suit DiDonato’s voice.  I wonder if that happened here, I certainly didn’t notice it.

The New York Times review spends much time in praising Camerena, and that’s fine.  The reviewer saw the opening night performance, and evidently there was no encore.  Also, Flores withdrew due to illness, so it has been all-Camerena.

We went to this opera with David and Ruby, whom we have known since the 1970s.  I am glad they enjoyed it.  One of our tickets had a $50 price reduction because we subscribed to next season.  Traffic into town was quite bad, so we had only time for a quick bite at Europan.

I mentioned to David that there are no heirs apparent to the three tenors, and the operatic world is looking for one (or several.)  Perhaps Camerena’s stock rises after this run?  I do wonder if anyone can match Domingo in stature and handsomeness at his prime, though.

Metropolitan Opera – Bellini’s I Puritani. April 17, 2014.

Metropolitan Opera at Lincoln Center, Balcony (Seat B13, $87.50).

Story.  The setting is about 1650, the time of the English Civil War of Puritans versus Royalists.  Elvira is the daughter of the commander of the Plymouth fortress, a Puritan stronghold.  She is supposed to be married to Riccardo but is in love with the Royalist Arturo instead.  Her uncle Giorgio assures her that she won’t be forced into a marriage.  When Arturo visits, he is actually welcomed by the Puritans.  Queen Enrichetta, widow of King Charles who was executed, is held prisoner.  Arturo manages to escape with the Queen by placing Elvira’s bridal veil over Enrichetta’s head.  Elvira mistakes this act as abandonment by Arturo and goes mad.  Although Arturo is condemned by the Puritans to death, Riccardo is persuaded to forgive him if he returns as a friend.  While trying to escape from the pursuing Puritans, Arturo hides in the garden and overhears Elvira singing their old love song.  He is then discovered and arrested.  At that moment a messenger shows up declaring the final defeat of the Royalists and a general amnesty for the offenders.  Arturo is spared, Elvira regains her senses, and all rejoice.

Conductor – Michele Mariotti.  Elvira – Olga Peretyatko, Arturo – Lawrence Brownlee, Riccardo – Maksim Aniskin, Giorgio – Michele Pertusi, Enrichetta – Elizabeth Bishop.

The last two operas I went to were by Berg and Strauss (Wozzeck and Arabella), ones I had to work on to understand and to enjoy.  So it was a nice change of pace to attend a traditional bel canto opera.  Bellini was a music prodigy who died at age 33.  He left behind 11 operas (per Wikipedia,) of which I knew of three (Norma, La sonnambula, and I puritan.)  La sonnambula was the opera I saw before the two mentioned at the beginning of this paragraph.

Tonight’s performance was the first for this season, and it was the debut appearance of the Russian coloratura soprano Peretyatko.  Her image isn’t plastered all over the walls and the Metopera website as Jonas Kaufmann’s was, but there was considerable publicity nonetheless.  Let me first say this: she certainly met the expectations set by the hype.  Which, as I have noted before, isn’t a given.

The opera was written by Bellini with the four principal singers in mind, and there are solos and ensemble numbers that highlight their abilities.  However, the show is Elvira.  The role demands from the soprano a great range vocally and emotionally, a task Peretyatko dispatched like a veteran.  Her voice is beautiful, she can belt out strong melodies, and her whispers during the more reflective moments carry beautifully into the house.  Even for a non-singer, it is abundantly clear the lines are difficult technically, and her singing is the equivalent of a violinist showing off her flawless technical virtuosity.  I recall Damrau in La sonnambula looking completely effortless in delivering equally beautiful lines, and wonder if the operas place the same technical demands on the artists.

We have seen Brownlee a couple of times.  The first encounter was opposite Renee Fleming in Armida (in 2010,) he did very well but seemed nervous.  The second time was as Tonio in La Fille du Regiment, and I liked that also.  He certainly delivered again tonight.  For some reason he looked much heavier and older than I remembered him (it’s only been four years since I first saw him.)  A search of the web tells me he was born in 1972, making him over 40; I thought he was young (20s?) a few years ago.  His height was not a problem in the last two operas I saw; against the much taller Peretyatko, however, things looked a bit weird.

Pertussi as Giorgio was another standout.  As the “elder” statesman in the play, his singing was serious and provided the heft like a bass should.  Mariusz Kwiecien was in the program as Riccardo but withdrew because of illness; so Aniskim had his Met debut as a substitute.  At first he sounded weak and looked wooden, he improved substantially as the opera progressed.  As far as I could tell, the prompters’ box was dark the whole time.

In my write-up on Arabella, I remarked about how dated that production felt; and it debuted in the 80s.  For this opera the production dates from 1976, yet it feels quite appropriate.  The costumes worn by the artists (especially the chorus members,) are a mixture of traditional and pilgrim (think Massachusetts.)  Which brings up the question of why the opera is titled “The Puritans.”  I assume the story is fiction set in the Puritan community, but the main story has nothing to do with any religious or moral issues one with associate with them.

The story the opera tells is quite traditional: two people from different backgrounds fall in love.  Romeo and Juliet and Aida are examples that come to mind.  Instead of everyone dying at the end, the twist here is everything ends well.

This was overall a great experience.  I wish there were a few more singable tunes, pleasant as the arias are.  I have yet to become a fan of mad scenes as a dramatic element.  As mad scenes go, the ones in this opera are as good as they get – and there are quite a few of them, Elvira is out of it for Act 2 and most of Act 3.  The Playbill talks about a prior run with Joan Sutherland and Luciano Pavarotti; I wonder how this cast compares.

An interview in the Playbill with Peretyatko contains a few interesting tidbits.  One is that she started as a mezzo-soprano in her teens and eventually trained to be a coloratura soprano; quite a change in her range.  A second is she was originally signed to sing the Fiakermilli role in Arabella, but got upgraded to this role.  The third is that she is married to the conductor for this opera.  The last item may explain the rather tame love scenes: it would be awkward with the real husband watching.

The New York Times review came out a few hours ago.  The reviewer also contrasts Peretyatko’s performer with that of Anna Netrebko’s a few years back.  He wasn’t particularly impressed with the conductor, though

Kuau came by to give me a ride to Jersey City.  Anne and I had dinner at East Szechuan.  On the way to Lincoln Center the West Side highway was a bit congested; and we had to take the Holland Tunnel back because of work around Lincoln Tunnel.  Otherwise our rides were fine.

Metropolitan Opera – Strauss’s Arabella. April 16, 2014.

Metropolitan Opera at Lincoln Center, Balcony (Seat C107, $102.50.)

Story.  Arabella and Zdenka are the daughters of Count and Countess Waldner, who have fallen on hard times.  Zdenka is brought up as a boy (named Zdenko) so the Waldners don’t have to incur the expenses of introducing two daughters into the Viennese society.  Arabella is courted by many people, including the young officer Matteo.  Zdenko acts as the go-between but falls in love with Matteo.  Meanwhile, the Count tries to contact his old rich friend Mandryka to see if he is interested in marrying Arabella.  Mandryka has died so his nephew and heir (with same name) shows up.  Arabella and Mandryka immediate fall in love and plans to get engaged.  To calm the agitated Matteo, Zdenka gives him the key next to Arabella’s room but Zdenka ends up spending the night with Matteo.  Thinking Arabella has betrayed him, Mandryka plans to leave the Waldners.  Zdenka appears in her nightgown and admits she is the one with Matteo.  The story ends with Arabella declaring her love for Mandryka by following the tradition of bringing him a glass of water.

Conductor – Philippe Auguin.  Arabella – Malin Bystrom, Zdenka – Juliane Banse, Mandryka – Michael Volle, Countess Waldner – Catherine Wyn-Rogers, Count Waldner – Martin Winkler, Matteo – Roberto Sacca.

I have found Strauss (Richard) generally difficult to understand.  There are usually some nice and memorable melodies in his compositions (tone poems, operas, what not), but the works as a whole usually elude me.  This is also true for this particular opera, but I ended up enjoying it quite a bit.

The story has many parallels to Der Rosenkavalier.   One aspect is this “tradition” of bringing a glass of water to one’s lover.  In Rosenkavalier the tradition is a silver rose.  We know the rose tradition is made up by Strauss, I wonder if the glass of water is made up also.  Regardless, the glass gives Arabella a dramatically satisfying ending.

There are many solos and a few duets in the opera, with most of them against a rich texture provided by the orchestra.  For a first time listener, the passages sound quite complicated and thus not quite accessible.  However, I can appreciate how well the artists delivered the numbers, and would probably enjoy them more on subsequent listens.  In general, the voices and the orchestra complemented each other quite well, even though the voices tend to be on the weak side.  The orchestra sound was lush and clear most of the time; however, there were occasional slips in its delivery.

For a while I thought it was I that kept thinking the voices didn’t project as well as they should.  Turns out my assessment wasn’t without merit.  Before Act III began there was an announcement that Sacca couldn’t continue and would be replaced by another singer (didn’t catch the replacement’s name.)  Matteo had less a role to play in the final Act, so it worked out okay.  This also got me to notice the active cuing done by the prompters.  I had never seen so many hand gestures from the prompters’ box before.

Most of the singers also acted their parts well.  Arabella carries herself with quiet dignity, Zdenka acts like the tom-boy she is supposed to be, and the Count and Countess are much more likeable than Faninal (in Der Rosenkavalier) even though they are in similarly dire straits.  I do have some issues with how Mandryka is portrayed.  While he is a self-deprecating “country bumpkin,” his rough edges often come across as crude.  His first appearance in a fur coat and high boots was a disappointment.  On the other hand, the performance will have a hard time qualifying as a comedy had it not been for his acting (or overacting.)

The sets are for 1860 Vienna.  They reflect the opulence of Viennese society at the time.  Actually, for someone strapped financially the Waldners live and dress well.  I consider myself a traditionalist when it comes to costumes and sets, so I appreciate what I see.  The sets do look a bit worn – they were first used in 1983.

The story has many parallels to Der Rosenkavalier.   One aspect is this “tradition” of bringing a glass of water to one’s lover.  In Rosenkavalier the tradition is a silver rose.  We know the rose tradition is made up by Strauss, I wonder if the glass of water is made up also.  Regardless, the glass gives Arabella a dramatically satisfying ending.

The scene where Arabella tells her suitors that they can only be friends reminds me of the very first opera I wrote a review for : Puccini's Fanciulla del West, specifically the scene where Minnie was asking for mercy from her friends one by one.  I remember that as being quite a bit more compelling.

The gentleman sitting next to me also attended this opera by himself – his wife was out of town.  In any case, we were lamenting the number of vacant seats tonight, and whether the Met has been successful in drawing in a younger crowd with its slew of new sets.  Tonight would be an argument to go with the new.

My neighbor thought this was a great opera, I have to go with “it’s okay.”  Considering this opera premiered in 1933, that was high praise.

The New York Times reviewer loves Volle as Mandryko, calling him the only one with the elemental energies as an actor.  Evidently the Met is bringing Volle back as Wotan for their next Ring.  The review also complains of the lack of personality in Bystrom’s Araella.  Well, Bystrom is Swedish; my one trip in Sweden left me with the impression the Swedes are one of the most reserved people (at least in public.)  It should be noted Banse is also Swedish, so much for type-casting.  If I were to summarize the Times review, it would be “it’s okay.”

Anne was in Jersey City, so I ended up going to this opera by myself.  With Pulaski Skyway closed, I thought traffic was going to be bad.  Indeed the wait to get to Lincoln Tunnel was over an hour; however, by going through Jersey City I encountered little traffic.  Off-street parking again cost only $1.50.  Construction on the helix did slow down my return: I got back at around 12:15 am.

New York Philharmonic – Christoph von Dohnanyi, conductor; Paul Lewis, piano. April 10, 2014.

Avery Fisher Hall at Lincoln Center.  Orchestra (Seat G116, $62.50.)

Program

Piano Concerto No. 1 in D minor, Op. 15 (1858) by Brahms (1833-97).

Symphony No. 2 in C major, Op. 61 (1845-46) by Schumann (1810-56).

After getting a heavy dosage of modern compositions in the last several concerts, I was looking forward to tonight’s program of pure romantic music.  The pieces have some interesting attributes: the Brahms concerto is one of the composer’s earlier work, and is quite lengthy for a piano concerto, it was also completed soon after Schumann’s death; the Schumann piece was written about a year after he battled with his serious illness, and he thought people would notice the effect.

The Brahms concerto is more fiery and virtuoso than thoughtful and mature.  The orchestra certainly started the rather long introduction that way.  The piano announces its presence with a soft yet effective statement that says “quiet down and listen to what I have to say.”  Eventually the piano and the orchestra become equal partners in the give and take. 

The performance was so enjoyable that the piece didn’t feel 50 minutes long at all.    The movements are Maestoso, Adagio, and Rondo – Allegro non troppo.  The Playbill’s “In Depth” article is on Lewis, who was brought up in a working class family but somehow discovered the piano in a local library, an example of natural talent coming through despite one’s background.  The article also talks about him creating a buzz at last year’s Mostly Mozart Festival.  Sure enough we heard him play Mozart’s 25^th at that concert.  My remarks were short.  While I enjoyed that performance, I thought he was too liberal with the tempo, and used too much pedal.  Varying the tempo is certainly more acceptable with Brahms, and Lewis did that to good effect.  For me he still used too much pedaling, thus muddling some of the grander passages.

The Playbill has a paragraph “Pondering Schumann’s Second” that was quite interesting.  It talks about the criticism that this symphony (especially the first and last movements) as failing to drive home ideas to their logical conclusions.  It also offers an alternative view that the symphony is a progression of specific ideas (called “bildungsroman”).  That short paragraph, it turns out, helped a lot in my appreciation of the work.  Instead of trying to impose the usual structure on the music, I simply let it take me wherever it leads.  I do wonder how I would feel if I had not read the Playbill in advance.  I also question the statement that many critics during Schumann’s time viewed the symphony as such; to my knowledge, very few works from that period fall into this category.  (Actually, this is the first I heard of it; maybe I am that ignorant.)

The Program contains the wrong movement listings for the symphony.  The insert lists the correct ones: (i) Sostenuto assai – Allegro, ma non troppo; (ii) Scherzo: Allegro vivace; (iii) Adagio espressivo; and (iv) Allegro molto vivace.  However, a couple sitting in front of us had the large-print edition which didn’t come with the inserts.  They had a hard time reconciling what they heard with what was in their program.  (For instance, the last movement listed is Andante – allegro.)  It turns out the movement listings were from Shostakovich’s Tenth.  Why do I know?  Because I went to that concert last week.

Our seats in row G were very close to the stage.  That still doesn’t explain why I thought the orchestra sounded sloppy (for both pieces.)  The violins consistently had problems with Schumann’s Scherzo movement, especially when they had to come in on the upbeat.  And this is the first time I could distinctly hear the individual instruments (not a good thing, in my opinion.)  I have had seats further up front before, and that was never a problem with this orchestra.  I was surprised (maybe again?) that von Dohnanyi is in his 80s.  The Wikipedia entry says Alan Gilbert was his assistant conductor at the Cleveland Orchestra.

The effusive New York Times review contains a plethora of adjectives in praise of Lewis’s performance and leaves no doubt that the reviewer is a fan of Dohnanyi.  As to the Schumann Symphony, the reviewer says “the Philharmonic strings dispatched the rippling figures of the scurrying Scherzo effortlessly,” quite the opposite of how I felt.

Regardless, it was an enjoyable evening of classical romantic music.

New Jersey Symphony – Jacques Lacombe, conductor. April 5, 2014.

State Theatre in New Brunswick, NJ, Balcony (Seat C105, $32.)

Program

Requiem (1869-74) by Verdi (1813-1901).

Artists

Marianne Fiset – soprano, Janara Kellerman – mezzo-soprano, Russell Thomas – tenor, Peter Volpe – Bass.

Montclair State University Chorale – Heather J. Buchanan, director.

There it is again, Jekyll and Hyde.  My last couple of postings described in no uncertain terms my disappointment in the NJSO, after my hope was raised by a concert led by Lacombe.  Then what happens?  NJSO delivers a good performance, so now I am quite confused.  However, lest we go overboard, I said a good performance, not a great performance.

I heard this requiem about six years ago, played by New York Philharmonic, led by Lorin Maazel.  My overall assessment of that performance was “excellent,” although I did find some isolated problems here and there.

Of course I had completely forgotten what the music sounds like.  Unlike many of the pieces I had heard recently, it was not difficult to appreciate the composition at all.

I was reminded once again that Verdi was not a religious man: actually the Program Notes from six years ago calls him an atheist.  Nonetheless, one cannot help be moved by the music and what it represents.  Basically a requiem is a mass for the dead, with a standard text on mercy, days of wrath, judgment, supplication for redemption, holy lamb of God, eternal light, and deliverance from hell.  I recall having heard the requiems by Mozart, Faure, Britten, and Brahms, and while they are all excellent in their particular way, none is as powerful as this one.

A good example is Dies Irae.  There is wrath, and there is WRATH.  The two bass drums were hit so violently that the entire auditorium shook.  We were in the balcony and really empathized with the artists that were on stage, especially the double bass players right in front of them.  The brass episode (Tuba mirum), with some players in the back of the auditorium, was simply magnificent.

There were about 120 members in the Montclair Chorale.  Overall they did a great job with precision.  However, they sounded a bit on the weak side, especially considering the size of the ensemble and the size of the theater.  Not the Westminster, but quite good nonetheless.

The soloists all projected well.  However, they only seemed to be able to do so while shouting at the top of their lungs.  I wish there was a bit more dynamic range to their performance.  They complemented one another well, and all had rather significant and difficult passages to tackle.

While listening to a requiem I tend to concentrate on the vocal parts: trying to follow the Latin and looking up the English translation in the darkened hall aren't easy and usually occupy most of my bandwidth.   Despite that, I still appreciated how the orchestra did.  It actually was very responsive to Lacombe’s direction and performed its task with enthusiasm, precision, and remarkable dynamic range.

We have another NJSO concert this season, again conducted by Lacombe.  To paraphrase Forrest Gump, I wonder what kind of chocolate I will get this time.

New York Philharmonic – Pablo Heras-Casado, conductor; Peter Serkin, piano. April 3, 2014.

Avery Fisher Hall at Lincoln Center, Orchestra (Seat CC103, $40.)

Program

Four Sea Interludes from Peter Grimes, Op. 33a (1944-45) by Britten (1913-76).

Piano Concerto No. 3, BB 127 (1945) by Bartok (1881-1945).

Symphony No. 10 in E minor, Op. 93 (1953) by Shostakovich (1906-75).

I got a ticket to this concert in exchange for one I couldn’t get to a couple of weeks ago.  One of the reasons I didn’t include this in my NY Phil subscription was probably the program itself: all three pieces were written in the 1940s and 50s.  Since I attended another “modern” program just a couple of weeks ago, I wasn’t particularly looking forward to the evening.  On the positive side, all three composers fall into the “I do get their music” camp.

It turned out to be a rather enjoyable evening, even though it was a bit on the long side.  Per the Playbill, the three pieces last 16, 23 and 53 minutes respectively; and they have to bring out the piano after the first piece.  It was around 10 pm when I left Avery Fisher, the concert started at 7:30 pm.

Peter Grimes was an opera written with the tenor part crafted for Peter Pears, who was in a spousal relationship (Playbill’s words) with Britten.  The seven scenes of the opera are separated by six interludes, of which Britten extracted four and published them as the piece for today’s performance.  He also renamed the interludes Dawn, Sunday Morning, Moonlight, and Storm.

With 2013 being Britten’s 100^th birthday, we certainly have had a lot of exposure to his music last couple of years.  Today’s experience is quite similar: his music is generally pleasant and relatively easy to grasp.  Indeed the moods of the four interludes by-and-large followed their descriptions.  For instance, one could make the case of hearing a sunrise during Dawn, and church bells during Sunday Morning.  (Of course I am not sure I will be that perceptive if they didn’t provide the titles.)  The only exception would be Moonlight.  The title would imply a calm evening with moonlight reflecting off the sea.  That may well be true for Beethoven and Debussy, but here it was more mystery than serenity.

It was a good start for the evening for the young Spanish conductor Heras-Casado.  For me the Storm showcased how he managed to keep the orchestra reined in even during its wilder moments.  He also conducts without a baton.

Bartok’s piano concerto was written during the composer’s last year before he died of leukemia.  It was meant to be performed by his wife Ditta Pasztory-Bartok so she could generate some income from performing it.  Bartok died before the work was completed, his student and friend Tibor Serly orchestrated the incomplete 17 measures.  The three movements are (i) Allegretto; (ii) Allegro religioso – [Poco piu mosso] – Tempo I; and (iii) [Allegro vivace] –[Presto]. His wife went back to Hungary after Bartok’s death and only played the piece in public about 20 years after his death.

All in all a poignant and sad story, but not one reflected in the music.  I agree with the Playbill’s assessment: greatly lyrical, sometimes prayerful, often mysterious, touchingly naturalistic; and wonder how long it took the annotator to come up with these phrases.  I must say I didn’t get the quotations of birdsongs in the middle movement, though.

I have heard Peter Serkin a couple of times before, my assessment today is about the same: I am sure he is a great pianist, given the list of his accomplishments, but the greatness didn’t come through today.  To quote my remark after him playing Bartok’s first piano concerto (2006): 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; and after playing Stravinsky’s Capriccio (2012): Yet one wonders how they compare (talking about his father Rudolf), …, the piano was overwhelmed sometimes by the orchestra, even though Serkin seemed to be pounding away at it.  Well, today is technically a third strike.

And I also heard this same piano concerto before, in a Mostly Mozart performance (2012).  My remark there was the music was easy to understand, and – interestingly – I thought the piano dominated the performance, with the soloist putting in a delightful performance.

It was by this time that I realized the concert was to be longer than usual: we still have a 53 minute symphony ahead of us.  Indeed the two people sitting in front of me left after the intermission.  I am glad I stayed, though.

Of all the Shostakovich symphonies I have heard before (it has not been that many,) this is probably the easiest one to understand.  The symphony starts simply with a Moderato first movement that eventually becomes quite chaotic and complex.  There was ample opportunity for the orchestra to run wild, but Heras-Casado managed to keep things nicely under control.  There are quite a few very pleasant solo passages (e.g., by the clarinet.)  The coda to the rather long movement (about 27 minutes) was a bit inscrutable, though.  The Playbill goes into a discussion of whether the scherzo movement contains a caricature of Stalin, who had died recently.  Under Stalinist Russia, Shostakovich was sometimes praised, and sometimes criticized by the state for writing music that may or may not be appropriately revolutionary.  The markings for the second and third movements are Allegro and Allegretto.  The second movement is lively enough that it could be called a scherzo, and one can hear sarcastic tones in it.  It was short (about 3 minutes) but enjoyable, and ends on a rousing flourish.  Interestingly, the third movement also sounded like a scherzo, but it ends quietly.  The music continues without pause to the fourth movement (Andante – Allegro) which abounds with nice melodies by various instruments, especially those in the woodwind section.  The 53 minutes (advertised) went by quickly.

I don’t know how New York Philharmonic selects conductors for debut appearances.  I would like to think Heras-Casada gets invited back in the near future.

I wanted to stop by Jersey City on my way back, and kept ignoring the GPS’s suggestion that I should take the Lincoln Tunnel.  What a mistake, Jersey City was fixing its potholes and the wait time for Holland Tunnel was up to 90 minutes.  I worked my way across downtown, then up, and across to get to Lincoln.  It was around midnight when I got to Jersey City.

The New York Times review is quite positive, calling Heras-Casado “A Master of Texture.”  The reviewer also likes how the Bartok concerto was performed.

New York Philharmonic – Manfred Honeck, conductor. March 28, 2014.

Avery Fisher Hall at Lincoln Center.  First Tier Center (Seat CC115, $56.)

Program

Orion (1979) by Claude Vivier (1948-83).

Symphony No. 9 in D minor (1887-94; ed. Nowak, 1951) by Bruckner (1824-96).

It is not easy when you start performing a program knowing most of your audience is disappointed, and that’s probably how Honeck felt when he started the series.  I am sure I was among the many that got these tickets anticipating a great experience: what could go wrong with Dudamel conducting a Bruckner symphony?  Well, the conductor can come down with the flu and withdraw!  Indeed I got an email informing me of the substitution about a week ago.  And I was so looking forward to seeing how the New York Philharmonic would fare under Dudamel.

The choice of the first piece is quite interesting, especially in light of the LA Phil program we heard a couple of weeks ago.  Vivier was an openly gay Quebecois who was murdered soon after moving to Paris.  There is much speculation about the circumstances of the tragedy, including the possibility that he orchestrated his own murder.  (All this from the Playbill.)  This leads one to wonder if Dudamel picked the New York programs with the subject of homosexuality specifically in mind.

All that aside, the 14-minute Orion is quite interesting.  Vivier provided a description of the six sections of the piece: statement of the melody, first development of the melody laid upon itself, second development, meditation on the melody, remembrance of the melody, and finally the melody in two intervals.  Even though I am not sure what the phrases “laid upon itself” and “in two intervals” mean (and the Playbill calls the description desultory anyway), it is at least consistent with my perception that the piece has a rather simple structure.

And it was actually one of those modern pieces that I enjoyed on my first hearing.  As with many modern pieces, a lot of different percussion instruments (four percussionists) were used; curiously the timpani was (were?) absent.  It is always fun trying to locate where a particular sound comes from, so it kept us quite busy.  One instrument that was not listed was the human voice: one of the percussionists actually had to sing out a two-note motif a couple of times.  While the melody isn’t a tune you would walk away humming to yourself, it was interesting how it got woven into the piece multiple times.  How this piece is inspired by the constellation Orion, however, is still a mystery.

The Playbill says this Bruckner piece was last performed by the NY Philharmonic on November 8, 2008, conducted by Christoph Eschenbach.  A review of my postings indicates that we actually attended that concert; it also says I ended up scratching my head quite a bit afterwards.  It bears repeating that this was Bruckner’s last symphony, and he died while working on the finale of this composition.  Most performances now utilize the three completed movements and end on the “unconventional” Adagio third movement.

March 2014 is more than five years later, and I have heard many Bruckners in the meantime, and have learned to appreciate him a bit more.  Nonetheless, my impression was that his music can get very loud, and he was a great fan of brass instruments.  Nothing wrong with that, and that was how I expected Dudamel to deliver it.

Honeck put in a controlled and nuanced performance.  At no time could the orchestra be considered loud or out of control as he led the group on a long journey (I think the first movement is close to 30 minutes.)  Having visited Vienna and Upper Austria a couple of years ago, I even managed to correlate a bit of what I heard with the area’s environs.

The piece called for many “solo” passages from different parts of the orchestra, and afterwards Honeck made it a point to shake hands with players from the different sections, including the co-acting principals of the basses.  That was certainly a first.

There were a lot of empty seats; many people no doubt decided to not show up because of the change of conductors.  Also, the applause was at best lukewarm and polite, although from all indications Honeck was appreciative of the audience.  While no doubt Dudamel would have done a great job - and I wish he had been the one conducting – this to me confirms many New York concert-goers being attracted by headliners rather than the music.  Too bad they missed out on a good program.

Listening to radio traffic reports, we were expecting traffic jams along the way.  It was Friday evening, after all.  To our surprise, we had no problem driving in, and there was a lot of parking available around Lincoln Center.  It had been a while since we ate at Empire Szechuan, and to my chagrin they took out one of my favorite dishes (chicken/shrimp combo.)

The New York Times review is enthusiastic.  It draws some interesting parallels between Orion and the Ninth Symphony.