The Cleveland Orchestra – Strauss’s Daphne. Franz Welser-Most, conductor. July 18, 2015.

Avery Fisher Hall at Lincoln Center.  Orchestra (Seat K112, $40.)

Story.  During the summer Festival of Dionysos, Daphne’s childhood friend Leukippos reminisces with her about the past.  While he tries to show his love, Daphne rejects him. When Daphne rejects the special clothes for the occasion, Leukippos is persuaded to put them on by two maidens.  Apollo arrives disguised as a cowherd and is welcomed by Daphne; he is drawn to her.  The celebration begins, and the disguised Leukippos offers Daphne wine which she accepts. Apollo is jealous and forces Leukippos to reveal his true identity, killing him in the ensuing argument.  Daphne acknowledges her responsibility for the tragedy.  Apollo also asks for forgiveness and asking to love Daphne in the form of a laurel tree.  This “bucolic tragedy,” as Strauss calls it, ends with Daphne singing off-stage among the shimmering sound of the orchestra.

Daphne – Regine Hangler, Leukippos – Norbert Ernst, Apollo, Andreas Schager, Peneios (Daphne’s father) – Ain Anger, Gaea (wife of Peneios) – Nancy Maultsby.

Concert Chorale of New York, James Bassi, music director.

I of course know many people with the given name of Daphne, but never did try to find out the story behind that name.  A couple of years ago, while visiting Rome, we stopped by the Borghese Museum, and saw this statue of Apollo and Daphne (by Bernini, 1620s); the story there was Daphne tried to evade Apollo’s advance by turning into a laurel tree.  Evidently with these ancient Greek myths many versions of the same story exist, and it is probably futile to try to determine what the original says.  On paper the synopsis provided does not make a lot of sense, but I had no problems with the story as the work was performed – perhaps the story is only a part of it in an opera.

We visited Rome's Galleria Borghese where a Bernini sculpture of Apollo and Daphne was on exhibit.

One of the more notable differences is the role of Leukippos.  Many versions have him as a god who disguised as a woman to be near Daphne, and was forced to reveal himself when Apollo got everyone to go take a swim at a river.  The way it is told in the opera works too.

My seat is designated row K, but is in the eight row as they had to extend the stage to accommodate the large number of musicians.  In mid-June we saw another opera in concert performed by New York Philharmonic, and it didn’t prepare me at all for this group of singers.  With the exception of the mezzo-soprano (Maultsby as Gaea, and she was no slouch,) every soloist had a booming voice.  And it was really amazing that they could keep it up for the entire 1:40-hour one-act opera, one considered highly demanding of the singers per Playbill.  Apollo and Daphne are the main characters, and neither faded during the performance.  Indeed Schager sounded fresh when he sang the aria “Jeden heiligen Morgen” towards the end of the opera.  I sometimes wished the singers would soften things a bit, both to preserve their voices and to get some of the emotions across, but mostly sat there in awe of how well they did.  In many ways the large orchestra was no match for the singers.  In many instances the singers were accompanied by only single instruments or small ensembles, and most of the time I could only barely make out the instruments.  Many of the singers are said to be well-known Wagnerian singers, and given what I heard today, I wonder why they are not better known in the US; I do wonder how they would fare in roles such as Brunnhilde, Siegfried, and Parsifal.  Doing it for 90 minutes is not the same as doing it for four hours.

Overall, the orchestra put in a great performance, starting with the overture.  This is one of Strauss’s later operas, but the Playbill speaks of “an entirely different harmonic language … Daphne’s warbling melodies are written mostly in the pentatonic scale, … Other passages deal mainly in the familiar major and minor (‘diatonic’) scales and chords.  Richard Strauss, known earlier as a chord-smasher and wielder of hair-raising dissonances, has left the building, replaced by a humorous and occasionally extravagant painter of pastoral scenes.” All I can say is, “it’s all relative.”  I listened to Daphne closely, and must say if there were any pentatonic passages, they must be “local” and were only a few notes long.  And I distinctly heard the subdominant and leading notes used over and over again.  However, I am sure one can point that out in the music score, it’s just that our eyes are wired differently from our ears (at least mine are.)

This opera was performed with the singers in front of music stands, although they do enter and exit the stage as their lines come on and end.  And it is “choreographed” in such a way that there are at most three soloists at the front of the stage at any given time.  I do wish they put at least some limited action into the performance, as it was I had to fill in many blanks by referring again and again to the synopsis.  For example, a toga (or whatever the Greek gods wore) would add a lot to the scene where Leukippos dressed up as a woman, or he could act “dead” after Apollo shot an arrow through him.  I can imagine some scenes being acted out during some music-only passages, but imagination could take me only so far.

I joined in the thunderous applause afterwards, standing up in appreciation of the great performance, and also to take a few photos with my iPhone.

Curtain Call with Welser-Most on the left.  To his left are Regine Hangler (Daphne), Andreas Schager (Apollo), Norbert Ernst (Leukippos), Nancy Maultsby (Gaea), and Ain Anger (Peneios.) The two ladies in white sang the role of maids.

The New YorkTimes review is very positive, yet the reviewer does find something here and there to critique.  The most brutal is reserved for the opera itself, with the reviewer calling it “not top-tier Strauss.”  Of course I can’t tell; and that is not what the Playbill description would have one to believe.  Also, the reviewer complained that the orchestra was sometimes too loud.  Maybe he had a different seat, my experience was entirely different; or the singers decided to give it their all after reading the review.

I wrote glowingly of the orchestra yesterday, and today’s experience just added to my admiration of the organization.  While I probably won’t move to Cleveland, I am tempted to visit Severance Hall.

I stopped by Ellie’s for a quick dinner, left my car in Jersey City, and left at 6 pm to take PATH into the city.  A series of unfortunate delays (and wrong choice of routes) meant I didn’t get into my seat until 7:29 pm for a 7:30 pm curtain (well, it didn’t start until around 7:40.)  That means I didn’t have time to visit the washroom before the performance, and I had left my house a bit after 4 pm!  Either the opera was mesmerizing, or I was very dehydrated from the heat, I sat through the whole thing without any problems.  It was about 11:30 pm that I got home.

The Cleveland Orchestra – Franz Welser-Most, conductor. July 17, 2015.

Avery Fisher Hall at Lincoln Center, Orchestra (Seat GG101, $40.)

Program

Symphony No. 6 in F major, Op. 68 (“Pastoral”) (1806-08) by Beethoven (1770-1827).

Symphonia domestica, Op. 53 (1902-03) by Strauss (1864-1949).

Due to the birth of our third grandchild, Anne and I are spending most of July in the Boston area.  I came back by myself for a long weekend to take care of various chores at home. Earlier this week I found out from a Goldstar mailing that half-price tickets were on sale for this series of concerts, and bought tickets to two events: Friday and Saturday.  I took the train.

This would be my first exposure to the orchestra and the conductor.  The Cleveland Orchestra has been around for a while (since 1918, says the web) and it’s one of the “Big Five” in the US; before Welser-Most, its conductors were Szell, Boulez, Maazel, and von Dohnanyi.  For me the one known fact about Welser-Most was he recently resigned from the Vienna State Opera due to “artistic differences”; I was surprised that he has been with the Cleveland Orchestra since 2002.

Today’s program is quite interesting.  Beethoven’s was written at the start of the 19^th Century, and Strauss’s 20^th.  Both can be considered program music, with the composers providing some level of description for what stories the music was trying to tell.  For the five movements of Beethoven’s sixth we have (I) Awakening of cheerful feelings upon arriving in the country: Allegro ma non troppo; (II) Scene by the brookside: Andante molto mosso; (III) Jolly gathering of country folk: Allegro; (IV) Thunderstorm, Tempest: Allegro; and (V) Shepherd’s Song: Gladsome and thankful feelings after the storm: Allegretto.  Strauss withdrew most of his commentary from the score, possibly due to the embarrassment it may cause.  It was included in today’s Playbill: (I) Introduction and Development of the Main Themes - (i) The husband’s themes: easy-going, dreamy, fiery; (ii) The wife’s themes: lively and free-spirited, grazioso; (iii) The child’s theme: tranquil.  (II) Scherzo – (i) Happiness of the parents, (ii) Childish games, (iii) Cradle song (lullaby), (iv) The clock strikes seven in the evening.  (III) Adagio – (i) Doing and thinking; (ii) Love scene; (iii) Dreams and worries; (iv) The clock strikes seven in the morning.  (IV) Finale – (i) Awakening and merry dispute (double fugue); (ii) Joyous confusion.

Much music has been written about nature and outdoor scenes: for example, many of Debussy’s works (la mer, children’s corner) and Wagner’s (Overture to Flying Dutchman), and of course, Beethoven’s (moonlight sonata, although he didn’t call it by that name.)  This tone poem (I guess Symphonia domestica falls into that category) is unusual in that it describes a day in the life of the composer.  Strauss is not known for his modesty, having written Ein Heldenleben as a tribute to himself at the age of 34; here the music depicts just an ordinary day.

The Pastoral Symphony in and of itself is lovely, and I assume any competent orchestra can make it enjoyable.  However, this one felt definitely different after 20 or so notes (the first phrase has 13 by my count.)  The sound was just gorgeous – we are talking about Avery Fisher without the best acoustics, and a statement was clearly being made.  And the rest of the performance lived up to the promise.  The walk was scenic, the dances were happy, the storms were severe but over quickly, and the birds sang beautifully.  It was by no means a flawless reading, and every now and then some chaos crept in.  I am reminded of Emmanuel Ax’s playing, a slip every now and then does not detract from the overall interpretation of the composition.  During intermission I posted on my Facebook page: odd for a walk in the woods – moving.

A performance that would have made Beethoven proud.

This is the third time I heard Symphonia Domestica.  The description in the Playbill certainly helped, especially illuminating was the description of the three note sequences that denote Strauss and his wife Pauline.  It also paints a rather unflattering picture of her – boisterous, shrewd, whatever, however we don’t need to worry too much as the couple were married for over 50 years.

It is embarrassing that even with all this help, I still couldn’t quite follow the music closely.  Most notably I missed the first time the clocked chimed “seven.”  However, I am sure I got more out of this listening than my previous two.  Not only were the two “themes” (if one could call three-note fragments that) very helping in deciding who was being talked about, many of the melodies, such as they are, came across clearly.  The notes in the Taipei program from last October talks about aunts and uncles, no mention of them here.

This is a large orchestra (I counted nine basses, and New York Philharmonic has eight), and could produce a commensurate volume of sound.  I hope it wasn’t nearly as boisterous in the Strauss household as tonight’s performance would suggest.  However, as an abstract piece of music the loud sound made it enjoyable.

Welser-Most doesn’t seem to believe in the economy of motion.  His arms were carving giant curves all through the program.  Yet he could elicit a soft voice from the orchestra when necessary.  Even though the fourth tier of the auditorium was closed off, and the third tier only had few people sitting in it, the applause afterwards was certainly as enthusiastic as any I have seen.  And when Welser-Most asked the woodwind and brass sections to stand up, perhaps as many as 40 people did.

Curtain call, The Cleveland Orchestra with Franz Welser-Most.

The Program Notes in the Playbill is among the best I have seen.  Without using too many words, the annotator Hugh McDonald added a lot of insight into the music and the program.  Indeed if this blog entry is uncharacteristically insightful, it is becauseI borrowed a lot of his ideas.  And, as they say, the “verboseness is all mine.”

It was about 11:30 pm when I got back home.

New York Philharmonic – Honegger’s Joan of Arc at the Stake. Alan Gilbert, conductor. June 11, 2015.

Avery Fisher Hall at Lincoln Center.  Orchestra (Seat R113, $64.50).

Program

Jeanne d’Arc au bucher (1935, prologue 1944) by Arthur Honegger (1892-1955).

Come de Bellescize, director.

Cast.  Joan – Marion Cotillard, Brother Dominuqe – Eric Genovese, Narrator and other roles – Christian Gonon; Erin Morley, Simone Osborne, Faith Sherman, Thomas Blondelle, Steven Humes, Charlotte Knutsen, Dashel Grossman, Thijs Beuming.

New York Choral Artists, Joseph Flummerfelt, director

Brooklyn Youth Chorus, Dianne Berkun-Menaker, director

Pierre Vallet, chorus master

Story.  Joan of Arc is handed over to the English after being captured by the Burgundians in battle.  She is tried and convicted as a heretic and is burnt at the stake in Rouen.  Facing her execution, Joan thinks back through her life with the help of a book brought in by Brother Dominique.  The flames rise to consume her as her book is closed.  The work is divided into a Prologue and eleven scenes: The Voices of Heaven, The Book, The Voices of Earth, Joan Given Up to the Beasts, Joan at the Stake, The Kings (or The Invention of the Game of Cards), Catherine and Marguerite, The King Sets Out for Rheims, THe Sword of Joan, Trimazo, and The Burning of Joan of Arc.

While we were in France last week we visited Chinon, Loire.  In town there stands a bronze statue of Joan of Arc in armor riding on a horse, and there are various institutions (such as a clinic) called J d’Arc in the area.  A peasant girl who was illiterate, she led France in many successful battles against the English in the 15th Century, but was eventually captured and burned at the stake, at the age of 19.

In front of the Jeanne d'Arc Statue in Chinon, France.

Tonight’s event is not easily categorized.  A staged opera is probably the closest descriptive term.  There is a set alright, but it consists of only one item: the stake.  The rest of the set is basically a walkway around the stage.  The cast and the singers have costumes, of an indeterminate period.  The NY Choral Artists (women only) are in white robes – angels?  The Youth Chorus members are dressed as peasants.  The Program Notes describes Marion Cotillard as a famous French actress who won an Oscar, so I said to Anne, “and she evidently could also sing.”  Turns out the three main characters (Joan, Brother Dominique, and the Narrator) didn’t sing at all.  The only exception was Joan singing a simple children’s song towards the end.  In that regard one can be excused as calling this a play.  With the help of overhead subtitles, I could readily follow the drama of the dialog (written by Paul Claudel, in a few days per the Playbill.)

Before the performance began, members of the orchestra, all dressed in black, seated themselves in the made up pit, which consists of the first rows of the auditorium surrounded by the aforementioned “stage.”  As a result, our Row R seats were actually about 10 rows from the stage.  What was unexpected was that Gilbert was already seated in the front, he simply stood up to get things going.

Turns out we had heard Honegger before; once, performed by the Orpheus Chamber Orchestra.  Looking back over my blog, I wasn’t particularly impressed with him then.  With a story, and writing for a much larger ensemble, I found his music in turn dramatic, irreverent, and poignant.  The Playbill talks about how imaginative his orchestration is, such as the use of animals to portray the kangaroo court that convicts Joan.  This was also the first time I came across the instrument “ondes martinot.”

The orchestra put in a delightful performance, either on their own or in support the action on stage as well as the vocalists.  The singers did very well also.  In any case, Gilbert seemed to be enjoying himself tremendously.  The performance was well appreciated, if the applause at curtain call was any indication.

Curtain call after the performance.

The logistics required to put this together must be quite daunting, and all participants must be congratulated for pulling it off, with flying colors.  The sound system has to turned on for the dialog, I can imagine the sound control folks having a busy time.  In the Playbill we read that rehearsals were at the New 42^nd Street Studios.

The entire program was slightly over an hour.  We managed to get home a few minutes after 10 pm.

The New YorkTimes reviewer didn’t spare any word in praising the concert.  He even went so far as to ask the question “Will Mr. Gilber’ts successor bring such a clear artistic and intellectual mission to the Philharmonic?”  Well, if he had spoken up more often perhaps things would be different?  The review was beautifully written, but I do take some issue with the title “In ‘Joan of Arc at the Stake,’ Beasts With Burden of Judging.”

New Jersey Symphony Orchestra – Jacques Lacombe, conductor; Marc-Andre Hamelin, piano. June 7, 2015.

Prudential Hall at NJPAC.  Tier G (Seat C106, $37.)

Program – All Beethoven

Corialan Overture, Op. 62 (1807).

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

Symphony No. 5 in C Minor, Op. 67 (1807-08).

Per the Program Notes, the piano concerto is the inspiration for today’s concert.  The overture and the symphony were both written around the same time, and also related key-wise as they are both in C minor.  On this point only people with perfect pitch can appreciate; I am not one of them.  Nonetheless both the concerto and the symphony are well-loved pieces, that we also have an overture in the program is a bonus.

The source of the overture is a drama by Heinrich von Collin, based on the same story as Shakespeare’s play.  It speaks of indecision and suicide, and the hero is destroyed at the end.  While I may not get the end result of “a tad depressing, but it is powerful in its finality,” I certainly enjoyed this relatively long (at 9 minutes) and not-often-performed music.

Of Beethoven’s five piano concertos and nine symphonies, the fifth in each category must be the most popular of the two genres.  They are probably the reasons this afternoon’s concert was nearly sold out.

The orchestra and the soloist gave competent renditions of both works, which were perhaps more formulaic than inspirational.  For the piano concerto, Hamelin just sat there and pounded out the notes with ease.  This is by no means an easy piece, but he made it look easy.  Our seats were quite close to the stage, and it appeared that he didn’t even break a sweat.  The orchestra was an equal partner with the soloist, providing support and contrast as necessary.

On a recent Jeopardy episode, no one could identify the Morse code …- as the theme from Beethoven’s fifth symphony, which was a bit surprising.  For today the notes that followed just came naturally, and rapidly.  For the next 30-some minutes the familiar sounds of the four movements (Allegro con brio; Andante con moto; Scherzo: Allegro; and Allegro) just flowed effortlessly in the auditorium.

We enjoyed the afternoon, as did the audience, if their applause was any indication.  Perhaps it is my growing respect for Lacombe and the Orchestra that made me wish for a more inspirational performance.

One other note, the General Manager (or CEO) of the Symphony came on stage at the beginning and acknowledged the service of members who have been with the organization for 25 years or more.  I was quite surprised at the large number of musicians in that category.

Opera National de Paris Ballet de l’Opera – Martinez’s Les Enfants du Paradis. June 4, 2015.

Palais Garnier, Paris, France.  Balcony (Seat 15, E130.)

Story. Garance is a lovely woman who refuses to settle down with one man.  She is courted by many men, including Frederick and Baptiste.  When Baptiste expresses his love for her, Garance is not ready to commit to the relationship, so Baptiste leaves.  Later, she is accused (falsely) of taking part in a robbery and is bailed out by the rich Count, and she stays with him for several years.  Meanwhile, Baptiste gets married and has a child.  He also becomes a successful mime.  Garance goes to the theatre regularly in secret to watch his performance.  When they finally meet again, they reconnect.  After Baptiste’s wife makes a plea that he stay with the family, Garance leaves.

Conductor – Jean=Francois Verdier.  Garance – Laetitia Pujol, Baptiste – Mathieu Ganio, Frederick – Karl Paquette, Lacenaire – Vincent Chaillet, Nathalie – Muriel Zusperreguy, Madame Hermine – Stephane Romberg, Le Comte – Benjamin Pech.

Musicians.  Thibault Vieux, Violin; Michel Dietlin, Piano; Simon Delfin, Bass; Paul Lepicard, Trumpet; Anthony Millet – Accordion; Stephane Chauveau, Percussions.

We really wanted to see an Opera at the most famous opera house in the world, the Palais Garnier.  However, with nearly all operas now performed at Bastille (actually any time I check,) this is not to be.  So we would settle on a ballet instead.  The only show that worked for us was tonight’s show, a work I had never heard before, by someone I didn’t know.

When I went to the box office for tickets in the afternoon, I was told only the most expensive and the cheapest seats were available.  I decided to spend E260 for two tickets instead of E24, figuring the better seats would give us a better experience.

First a bit about the story.  Figuring I won’t spend the money for a Program I don’t understand anyway, I decided to read up a little from the web.  Les Enfants in Paradis (Children in Paradise) is a 1945 film set in 1830-era Paris.  “Paradis” refers to the cheap seats in a theatre, and the main characters in the story are performers.  The main story is about the love interests of Garance and the unrequited love between her and Baptiste, which is confusing enough.  On top of that are several side stories that add to the complexity.  I could only find a listing of the Acts (2) and Scenes (12) on the web and the handout which are not that informative.  The story as told in the ballet is also different.  So I was left with the music, the dancing, and stitching the story together the best I could.  Which kept me quite busy, it turns out.

Given the enormous size of the palais, we were surprised at how small the auditorium is (seats fewer than 2000).  It dates back to around 1875, and shows its age.  However, it is easy to see how opulent it was during its prime.  On the ceiling is a painting by Marc Chagall (installed in 1964), depicting scenes from ballets and operas such as “Swan Lake” and “The Magic Flute.”  Our seats were indeed good, in the balcony but about only 20 rows from the stage.  We don’t have a full view of the orchestra though.

Jose Martinez used to be a dancer at the Opera Ballet, and this was his invention.  He danced this as his farewell performance at the Ballet a few years ago.  The original music was written by Marc-Olivier Dupin.  But there was a lot of familiar music incorporated into the 2 hour or so program, including some I would characterize as “Ocktoberfest” music.  For some scenes individual musicians would be on stage for the performance.  I enjoy particularly the playing of the solo violinist, so much so that I sometimes ignored what the dancers were doing.  The orchestra was small, but produced a great sound.

Much of the dancing is not what I would consider traditional ballet; sometimes I even wondered if they were doing pantomines.  There are some exceptions such as the ballroom scene and the beginning of Act 2.  As expected, Garance is called on to do a lot of the heavy lifting as the story is mostly about her, and she got the story across well.

Anne read that Palais Garnier was designed in such a way that the audience can interact with the cast.  There was certainly some of that.  As we entered there was juggling and drumming going on.  During the intermission the solo violinist was playing in the atrium and jugglers were out and about.  There were instances the dancers would come to the audience.  When Garance departed for the last time, she was lowered from the stage to the orchestra pit, then carried across to walk away from the auditorium.  The most interesting aspect was during the intermission there were students on stage rehearsing Othello, and the action eventually morphed into the ballet scene I mentioned above.

Curtain call was a lengthy affair.  Ballet de corps, followed by the soloists, then the principals.  Next came the conductor, the choreographer (I assume), and the violin soloist.  Repeat.  Then more applause as bouquets were thrown onto the stage for one of the ballerinas.  We are guessing this was her farewell performance – too bad we couldn’t tell which role she played.

Paris being at the latitude it is, there was still light when we left.

Opera National de Paris – Chausson’s Le Roi Arthus. June 2, 2015.

Opera Bastille, Paris, France.  Premier Balcony (Seat K9-2, E100).

Story.  After celebrating the defeat of the Saxons by King Arthur and his knights of the Round Table, Lancelot meets Arthur’s wife Guinevere for a tryst, an act witnessed by Mordred, Arthur’s cousin and a pretender to the throne.  Lancelot fights Mordred and wounds him.  Fleeing with Guinevere to his castle, Lancelot learns that Mordred has survived and has revealed the truth to Arthur.  Arthur consults Merlin who foretells the downfall of the Round Table.  After unsuccessfully pleading with Lancelot to deny their affair, Guinevere strangles herself with her own hair. Meanwhile, Lancelot goes to battle and is mortally wounded.  Before he dies, Arthur tells him that he is forgiven.  Arthur subsequently dies also.

Conductor – Philippe Jordan.  Genievre – Sophie Koch, Arthus – Thomas Hampson, Lancelot – Roberto Alagna, Mordred – Alexandre Duhamel, Lyonnel (Lancelot’s aide) – Stanislas de Barbeyrac, Merlin – Peter Sidhom.

We are in Paris for a few days to conclude our France trip with Ellie, Kuau, and Reid.  We had a choice between this opera and the Magic Flute.  For various reasons including scheduling, we decided to attend this one.  Right after we settled in our Airbnb apartment, I went to Opera Bastille to purchase these tickets.  Our row at the back of the Premier Balcony section was quite empty, but otherwise attendance seemed to be quite good in this 2700-seat auditorium.

The story perhaps should be titled “The Last Days of King Arthur” as it talks about the deaths of his wife, his best friend, and himself.  I do not know much about Arthur beyond the Ex-Caliber and the Round Table, and this aspect of his life was certainly not familiar.  Since Arthur is a fictional character, I assume different story lines can be attributed to him.

The “story” I wrote above is mostly from the wiki article on the opera, augmented by what I actually saw during the performance.  Anne and I were resigned to sit through a lot of singing that we could not understand, comforted by the fact that the story line is simple enough so we should be able to construct it as it progresses.  We were very pleased, and relieved, as the overhead projection asking people to turn off their cell phones in three languages (French, English, and German) turned into surtitles in two languages (French and English.)

As a violin student, the only work by Ernest Chausson I knew about was his “poeme” for violin and orchestra (turns out other arrangements exist.)  He evidently was born into a very rich family, trained as a lawyer, and died in 1899 at age 44 when he hit a brick wall while riding a bicycle.  His only opera was completed in 1895, but wasn’t premiered until 1903.

I enjoyed the opera from the get go: an enthusiastic overture that led to the raising of the curtain.  To the extent I managed to pay attention to the orchestra, particular at the start of the three acts and during the scenery changes, it did a superb job.  We picked the seats in the balcony over the orchestra for the reason that we could have a good look at the orchestra, and it was the right decision.  Philippe Jordan conducted with great enthusiasm, responded in kind by the players.

The singing by the principals was uniformly good.  I would only quibble a bit with Hampson’s mid-range which was on the weak side.  We saw Sophie Koch a while ago as Charlotte in Werther, opposite Jonas Kaufman.  There I thought she did a great job, but could use a “soft” in her volume setting.  That was uniformly the case this evening: everyone was trying to belt out their lyrics, admittedly a better alternative than not being heard.  There are many documents in the web debating if Opera Bastille utilizes a sound enhancement system.  I can’t tell, but can be convinced that they do given how strong everyone sounded.  The chorus had only a couple of short passages, but was quite impressive.

There are quite a few duets between Lancelot and Guinevere.  The first of which was a love song in Scene 2 of Act 1.  I don’t know French, but have always enjoyed French love songs.  I must say while the individual singing was good, the two voices didn’t blend well together at all.  If I were a musicologist, I might offer the opinion that this was by design to foretell the trouble that would come later.  Or I can be like most critics and simply say that it is bad music (more on that later.)

Opera Bastille was completed in 1990, and one of its features is the ability to accommodate complicated sets.  That wasn’t necessary today as the set would even fit the budget of (the now-defunct) New York City Opera.  One basically has as the backdrop a painting of a hill and a tower (must be of some significance in Arthurian lore,) a circle staked out by swords, two walls of a house, and this ubiquitous red sofa.  Two thirds of the sofa was ablaze in Act 3, the flames were so high that I wondered if the sprinklers would go off (and worried that they didn’t.)

We didn’t buy a program both for its cost (E12) and the fact that it is in French.  I did look up a few web articles on the opera, most of the writers were down on the opera.  Evidently Chausson wanted to write like a French Wagner (my words), particularly in the style of Tristan and Isolde and Parsifal, and most critics thought he failed miserably.  Evidently Tristan and Isolde found their re-incarnations as Lancelot and Guinevere, and Erda as Merlin.  Indeed one can find parallels to both Wagner operas if one chooses to do so, with one exception to Chausson’s advantage: this opera is much shorter at about 2:45 hours actual performance time.  While the long passages must be difficult, they must be easy compared to the demands of Wagner.

I found several scenes rather compelling.  One was Guinevere’s suicide: she complained to her dark hair that it wasn’t beautiful enough to help her keep Lancelot’s love, but asked it to end her life (Guinevere in this opera had either blonde or brown hair.)  The solo viola accompanying her singing was simply exquisite.  Guinevere started as a selfish control freak at the beginning of the opera, and manages to morph into a sympathetic figure, which is quite a feat. The other was Arthur telling Lancelot that his honor depends on himself, and not on others.  The actual words were more poignant than this.

I did find the last part of the opera puzzling.  As Arthur faces death, the dead soldiers around him (including Lancelot who was sitting in this – what else – red sofa) began to rise and walk off the stage.

It’s a pity that this opera probably won’t get staged very often.  I am glad we got a chance to see it.

New York Philharmonic – Susanna Malkki, conductor; Kirill Gerstein, piano. May 21, 2015.

Avery Fisher Hall at Lincoln Center, First Tier Center (Seat CC10, $64.50.)

Program

Variations on a Theme by Haydn, Op. 56a (1873) by Brahms (1833-97).

Tranquil Abiding (1998) by Jonathan Harvey (1939-2012).

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

Nathan and Sharon are in town, so we decided to make an evening of it by having dinner followed by a concert.  Even though I thought I left in time, early summer traffic, on a Thursday before the long Memorial Day weekend, proved to be quite heavy.  We were a bit late getting to dinner at Atlantic Grill. The place was packed and service was slower than the last time I visited, so it was eat, ask for the check, pay, and walk quickly to Lincoln Center.  Anne had to leave earlier to pick up the concert tickets, I moved a couple of our concerts to get four tickets.  Even though the concert was nearly sold out, I still managed rather good seats in the First Tier.

There is quite a bit of discussion in the Playbill about how well designed the Variations are, including how wonderful it is that the 5-measure theme manages to sound balanced.  The theme (Chorale St. Antoni) is familiar, and the variations delightful.  They are different from some other variations (say, Rachmaninoff’s variations on a theme by Paganini) in that it was relatively easy to relate the different movements to one another.  Brahms liked to collect old works, and had copied the theme in 1870 (still a teenager.) This work has made the Haydn theme very well-known, thus it is quite ironic that most musicologists now believe Haydn didn’t write the tune.  Brahms also published the same work (Op. 56b) for two pianos.

As a listener the 19 or so minute piece is light-hearted and easy-listening.  I would need the score, and a lot of time, to appreciate the subtleties of the work.  In addition to the theme (Andante) and the Finale (Andante), there are eight variations: poco piu animato, piu vivace, con moto, andante con moto, vivace, vivace, grazioso, and presto non troppo.

Of the two Brahms’ piano concertos, I usually prefer the more serene and subtle No. 2.  I didn’t realize this was written when Brahms was only about 25, that he was the soloist at its premiere, and that it took a lot of persuasion by Joachim before Brahms would publish the work.  Today’s performance was certainly majestic and enjoyable.  The balance was uniformly great (for our seats), and both the piano and the orchestra held their own as equal partners.  Actually right at this moment I can’t recall the tunes in Concerto No. 2.  (I am inside BA8004 EWR-Paris Orly as I type this; and I did find the second concerto in my iPhone.)

I believe this is the first time we heard Gerstein, and he is certainly impressive.  For someone as careful as Brahms, it certainly took a long time to say what he wanted to say (about fifty minutes, with three movements Maestoso, Adagio, and Rondo – Allegro non troppo.  I did find the second movement a bit too slow, but was surprised to find that it was quite long at more than fifteen minutes – it felt much shorter than that, makes me wonder if they edited some parts out.

Jonathan Harvey was a British composer who died in 2012 from motor neuron disease.  His daily routine was a “Buddhist inspired meditation” although he claimed not be a Buddhist.  Having written work relating to other religions (Hinduism, for instance,) this piece suggests a Buddhist concept.  The Playbill quotes the composer “It’s for music to articulate the true nature of man in his blissful, enlightened forms.  No less than that should be demanded.  It’s a way of charm and simplicity which no verbal concepts, least of all mine, can ever encapsulate.”  With remarks like that, I can imagine being inside a monastery, with the percussion (including bamboo clusters and bells) providing the requisite sounds.  Sharon summed it up best: very zen.

I think both the orchestra and the audience need to be tuned to this “zen” for the music to be effective.  In my case, I tried to analyze the piece, catch the structure as outlined in the Playbill, and watch the different percussion instruments at work.  This resulted in my not able to listen to the music and to put myself in it.

We saw Susanna Malkki in a Mostly Mozart concert a couple of years ago, and she’s quite competent.  She seemed too mechanical in how she led the Harvey piece, although I certainly couldn’t blame her for that, and in the Brahms’ piece I didn’t find the great inspiration I associate with a great conductor.  But I will go to another of his concerts.

Afterwards we said our goodbyes to Nathan and Sharon, and drove back to NJ. 

New Jersey Symphony Orchestra – Peter Bay, conductor; Andre Watts, piano. May 15, 2015.

Prudential Hall at NJPAC.  Tier 1 (Seat D17, $49.)

Program

Overture to Cosi fan tutte, K. 588 by Mozart (1756-1791).

Concerto No. 4 in G Major for Piano, Op. 58 by Beethoven (1770-1827).

Four Norwegian Moods by Stravinsky (1882-1971).

Concerto in A minor for Piano by Grieg (1843-1907).

Today’s program is Andre Watts, pure and simple.  Any one of the two concertos would have been sufficient for a respectable program, but today we have two.

Beethoven wrote his fourth concerto knowing his hearing was quickly deteriorating, and he was both the soloist and the conductor at its premiere.  In typical Beethoven fashion, this is a piece of contrasts, from one passage to the other, and between the soloist and the orchestra.  Delight is the word to describe the performance.

Grieg wrote the piano concerto when he was 25, and it has been a popular piece in the piano repertoire since it was premiered in 1869.  There is this story in the Program Notes about how Grieg met Liszt and the latter sight-read the piece flawlessly.  No doubt Liszt was a great pianist, but it is still amazing for him to do so, considering how difficult the piece sounded.  Incidentally, the Notes has a good description of the structure of both pieces, which added a lot to my appreciation of the music.

The Beethoven Concerto has three movements: Allegro moderato, Andante con moto, and Rondo: Vivace.  The Grieg Concerto’s three movements were not listed in the program.  They are (i) Allegro molto moderato; (ii) Adagio; (iii) Allegro moderato molto e marcato – Quasi presto – Andante maestoso.

The second movement of Grieg calls for a lot of horn, and the horn came through nicely.  The player was asked to take a well-deserved bow.

At about 70 – he was born in 1946 – Watts still could pound them out nicely.  I have only seen him in concert a few times, and keep wondering how exciting it must have been to hear him during his more youthful days.  He sometimes plays in a posture that reminds me of Linus (as did Trifonov), and doesn’t need exaggerated body movements or staring into the distance to get the mood across.

The audience broke into an enthusiastic and sustained applause and ovation at the conclusion of the concert.

The Mozart overture was an easy-listening piece of music that served as a great lead in to the concert.  Crisp and light, the way I like it.

The Four Norwegian Moods is a short piece, described as “humble” in the Program Notes.  It was intended for a film, but instead of making changes requested by the studio, Stravinsky withdrew the composition.  It resurfaced the following year in its current form.  The music is quite easy to grasp for the first time listener, especially when guided by the Notes.  Stravinsky insisted that the music is not an “impression” or a “state of mind,” and shouldn’t be assumed to have any “ethnological authenticity.”  Be that as it may, I certainly could hear a little folk (perhaps even Norwegian folk) in the four movements: Intrada, Song, Wedding Dance, and Cortege.

The piece was well enough received when premiered at Harvard’s Sanders Theatre by the Boston Symphony. However, when introduced in Paris in 1945 it was met with boo’s led by a young Pierre Boulez.  When the Rite of Spring was premiered (1913) it was considered a novelty, here the students were complaining about this neoclassical work as banal and insipid.  Be that as it may, I suspect nowadays the neoclassical Stravinsky gets heard a lot more than Boulez.

This was our first encounter with Peter Bay.  He looked quite young and was energetic.  (He can't be that young as he won a Young Conductor award in 1980.)   He has been the music director of the Austin Symphony for 16 years.  I thought he did a great job with the orchestra, and led a great dialog with Watts in the concertos.

Our seats in the first tier were good, a bargain at $49 (bought from Amazon Local.)  However, the acoustics isn’t the best.  We could hear the different parts, but they all sounded distant.

On our way to NJPAC we took the Turnpike to Exit 15E and then followed Raymond Blvd.  It was an easy drive.  We tried to do the reverse, but didn’t realize we couldn’t get to Exit 15E because of the Pulaski Skyway project.  Luckily the detours to get back were not too bad.

New York Philharmonic – Alan Gilbert, conductor; Anne Sofie von Otter, mezzo-soprano, Russell Braun, baritone. May 8, 2015.

Avery Fisher Hall at Lincoln Center.  Tier 1 (Seat CC7, $64.50).

Program

Symphony in B minor, D.759, Unfinished (1822) by Schubert (1797-1828).

Senza sangue (2014; rev. 2015) by Peter Eotvos (b. 1944).

We had tickets for the performance on Saturday.  Since we were planning to be in Jersey City Friday afternoon, we wanted to exchange the tickets to a day earlier.  Turns out the New York Philharmonic website was down for several days (first time in memory this ever happened), so I had to call their customer service to make the request. It worked out okay at the end.

Perhaps a harbinger of summer traffic, it took us close to 1 ½ hours to go from Jersey City to Lincoln Center.  As I waited for a parking space, Anne went ahead to order food from Europan.  Alas, it is closed for a 2-month renovation!  Let’s hope it will reopen as advertised.  In its stead we had street-vendor food.

Despite all that, it was still a lovely afternoon for a concert.  In the Playbill Gilbert talked extensively about the Senza sangue piece.  It had its world premiere in Cologne last week during the New York Philharmonic European tour, and tonight was the US premiere.  The work was a result of Henri Dutilleux’s decision to share the Marie-Josee Kravis Price for New Music with several younger composers.  The work is based on the novella of the same title (meaning “Without Blood”) written in Italian by Alessandro Baricco that was published in 2002.  The setting is unknown; the story is simple.  During a civil war three men kill the family of a young girl.  One of the men, Pedro Cantos, discovers a young girl hiding out but decides to spare her life.  The girl, Nina, spends many years tracking and killing the men responsible for the murders.  After 52 years she comes face to face with Cantos, and the opera describes the encounter between the two.  The surprise ending is the two fall in love at the end and head towards a hotel together.

As a tribute to Henri Dutilleux, who died in 2013, the opera begins with two calm notes B, D (which are spelling H, D in Hungarian and German.)  The Program Notes contains quite a bit of background and description on the composer and the music, and I will not repeat them here. The composer does mention what he aims for here are sharp contrasts, and shades of black, grey, and white.  I may understand what he meant if I had heard his previous 9 operas (where he strove for a “colorful palette of sound,”) but I seriously doubt that.

The opera actually was quite enjoyable, and at times moving, as the two exchange what happened over 50 years ago.  The ending was a bit abrupt and absurd, an opinion shared by many others, if what I overheard what people were saying after the concert was any indication.

Our seats in the first tier gave us good acoustics for the orchestra, but the voices didn’t come through.  I have always maintained a full orchestra on the same stage as singers don’t work as well when the orchestra is in a pit.  The libretto (English translation) was projected onto the overhang above the stage, which helped tremendously in my ability to follow the story.

Eotvos came on stage at curtain call.  “Younger” doesn’t mean young; he was born in 1944.

On the top of the program was Schubert’s Unfinished Symphony.  It is delightful as usual.  I learned a few more things about the work.  For instance, it wasn’t “unfinished” because Schubert died in the midst of composing it; he put it away six years before his death: a plausible explanation is he found out he had syphilis that year, and the disease was fatal at that time.

This article in The Guardian talks about the program and describes Von Otter’s take on the music.  The New York Times has an extensive article on Eotvos and Senza Sangue.

New Jersey Symphony Orchestra – Xian Zhang, conductor; Eric Wyrick, violin; Jonathan Spitz, cello. May 2, 2015.

Prudential Hall at NJPAC, Newark.  Orchestra Tier G (Seat B106, $37.)

Program

Concerto in A Minor for Violin and Cello, Op. 102 (1887) by Brahms (1833-1897).

Serenade for Winds in E-flat Major, Op. 7 (1881) by R. Strauss (1864-1949).

Symphony No. 39 in E-flat Major, K. 543 (1788) by Mozart (1756-1791).

The one time we saw Zhang conduct was in November 2007, during her tenure as New York Philharmonic’s associate conductor.  She left New York Philharmonic around the time Alan Gilbert took over from Lorin Maazel (perhaps the two events are related,) and I have not kept up with her career since.  Per the Program Notes, she has been the music director of Orchestra Sinfonica di Milan Giuseppe Verdi since 2009.  She is billed as an NJSO “favorite” in the publicity literature of the organization.

In any case, I remember I liked that 2007 concert, so that must have been one of the reasons I bought tonight’s tickets.  That the tickets were offered at 50% discount also helped.  Indeed we got very good seats for the price we paid.

I have some, but not a lot of, familiarity with the Brahms double concerto.  Wyrick and Spitz are the concertmaster and principal cello of NJSO respectively, and it is good that they got a chance to be the headline soloists (co-soloists?).  The two gentlemen gave a competent performance.  Balance with each other and the orchestra was good; the sound was good; intonation was near perfect; the technically challenging passages were handled well; and the orchestra played with precision, coming into the foreground and receding into a support role deftly.  What the performance lacked was the level of excitement Brahms usually generates (I am thinking of his concertos, symphonies, and sonatas.)

The three movements are Allegro, Andante, and Vivace non troppo.  It is interesting to note that this was Brahms’ last orchestral work.

Perhaps some of the flatness can be blamed on the concert hall.  It is huge, and not with the greatest of acoustics.  A few years ago we visited Tonhalle in Zurich, which seats perhaps 1500 people (compared to 2800 here), and has excellent acoustics.  Why do I mention that again?  Brahms was the one who led the first concert in Tonhalle when it opened in 1895, so perhaps he wrote music that works best in a more intimate venue?  Of course his other works can sound great in these large modern concert halls also.  [How’s that for taking many sides of the same issue?]

After the break, Zhang took up the microphone to talk briefly about the Strauss piece.  He wrote that at age 17 (no typo).  Although Strauss was a violin player, his father Franz played the horn, and was very good at it.  That may explain why at that young age he knew enough about the different wind instruments to make the best use out of them.  Zhang mentioned that the middle section has four horns playing a chorale, accompanied by the bassoon, and asked the audience to envision the pride Franz must have felt when he either read or played the music.  It was a nice short piece (11 minutes) and could also serve to introduce the different wind instruments to someone new to classical music (echoes of Young Person’s Guide still in my head, evidently.)  I am still not sure if the French horn is woodwind or brass, or both.

The problem with raising expectations is it makes those expectations difficult to fulfill.  We were listening for this horn chorale intently, and cringed when we heard it as the instruments sounded unsteady.  Perhaps it is the difficult nature of the passage, perhaps the players were nervous, or perhaps we expected perfection; whatever the cause, it was a bit of a letdown.  To be fair, the passage actually sounded fine generally.

Mozart’s 39^th symphony is the first of his last trilogy of symphonies, autographed within a span of six weeks.  Even though the Program Notes calls this the “forgotten member” of the trilogy, it is familiar enough.  In this case Zhang led a joyful and brilliant rendition of a delightful composition, having a lot of fun herself in the process, no doubt.  The audience thoroughly enjoyed it, if the applause afterwards was any indication.  I certainly did.

The 25 minute symphony has four movements: Adagio-Allegro, Andante con moto; Menuetto: Allegretto, and Allegro.

I remember Zhang as very energetic in the 2007 performance, jumping all over the podium.  Tonight she was also quite energetic, but managed to stay on the podium most of the time.  While she is no doubt a competent conductor, I wonder if she will get an opportunity to have a breakthrough and get into the company of great masters.

Metropolitan Opera – Mascagni’s Cavalleria Rusticana and Leoncavallo’s Pagliacci. April 29, 2015.

Metropolitan Opera at Lincoln Center, Balcony (Seat C120, $121.50).

Story.  Cavalleria Rusticana.  While Turiddu is off to war, his love Lola marries Alfio.  Turiddu returns and lives with Santuzza, resulting in her being rejected by the church.  When Turiddu rekindles his passion with Lola, the jealous Santuzza tells Alfio about his wife’s infidelity.  When Alfio sees Turiddu, he challenges him to a duel.  Turridu accepts and is killed. 

Story.  Pagliacci.  Canio and Nedda are leaders of a theatrical company.  The clown Tonio’s advances are rejected by Nedda, who is in love with Silvio instead.  The two’s plan to run away is overheard by Tonio, who in turns alerts Canio.  At sundown, the villagers gather to watch the performance of Columbine, played by Nedda, and her husband Pagliaccio, played by Canio.  The comedy proceeds along well until Canio snaps and kills Nedda and Silvio as he rushes to her aid.

Cavalleria Rusticana.  Conductor – Fabio Luisi; Turiddu – Marcelo Alvarez, Santuzza – Eva-Maria Westbroek, Mamma Lucia – Jane Bunnell, Alfio – George Gagnidze, Lola – Ginger Costa-Jackson. 

Pagliacci.  Conductor – Fabio Luisi; Tonio – George Gagnidze, Canio – Marcelo Alvarez, Beppe – Andrew Stenson, Nedda – Patricia Racette, Silvio – Lucas Meachem.

Both Anne and I are quite sure we have seen this combination a couple of times.  Once at the Met, and once at the NYC Opera (the latter we are a bit hazy about.)  Since I can’t find any entry in this blog, that would mean we saw it before my blogging days.  The most memorable number from Cavalleria is the intermezzo, and the one from Pagliacci is the aria “Vesti la giubba.”  I have some memories of the story (especially Pagliacci as our high school orchestra played a few excerpts.)  While none of these factors is compelling enough for us, we kept this performance because we simply ran out of exchange options, and that this is a new production.

It was a good thing we did.  We certainly enjoyed the program.  What I am most pleased is learning (or perhaps re-learning) many aspects of the operas.

Whenever there is a new production, one can always find a writeup in the Playbill.  In most instances the writers seem to make a big deal out of them.  Sometimes the enthusiasm is justified, but oftentimes not.  This production is one that doesn’t justify the level of excitement.  The good news is that they work.  The constant is provided by the walls in the background.  For Cavalleria the space is used as the courtyard outside a church, for Pagliacci it is the outdoor space where the traveling theater sits.  Pagliacci is placed in 1949, so there are electric pole and street lights, and the theater rides on a truck.  The other constant is the constant movement of chairs, variously to represent the inside of a church and seating for the show.  What I don’t understand is the circular arrangement at the beginning of Cavalleria.  It makes for an interesting sight.  So the sets work, but not spectacularly so.

People either get married or die at the end of an opera (most operas, anyway), and in this case we have deaths in both instances, and they were caused by jealousy.  The Playbill does point out the ritualistic aspects of Cavalleria compared to the more chaotic settings of a traveling troupe.  One shouldn’t read too much into this though: the two works were written independently.  It was the Met that first put them together in one evening, but I suspect it was done more for expedient reasons that for the intellectual musings that ensue.

I am quite sure I have not seen one particular opera more than the other, so it puzzles me when I discover I am much more familiar with the music in Cavalleria than I am with Pagliacci (and I was exposed to the latter while in high school.)  The Met orchestra did a great job with the music and the audience showed its appreciation, the music’s relative simplicity notwithstanding.  With Pagliacci the familiar tune has about a 25-note segment that defines the opera, and interestingly that is enough to hold the audience (well, the drama and other musical numbers help.)

The singing is fine.  We had seen Eva-Maria Westbroek before as Sieglinde in Die Walkure, and she did well. Patricia Racette as Nedda also sang well.  I thought it took a lot of courage for her to dress up as Columbine; Anne thought she pulled it off.  The singer in the role of Beppe looked Asian but has a non-Asian last name; I checked the Met website, it was indeed Stenson.  Marcelo Alvarez sang both lead roles, but I thought his voice weakened in the course of the evening.  Gagnidze also sang in both operas.  Also, at the beginning of Pagliacci Tonio stands in front of a curtain and does a rather long introduction; perhaps they should make the curtain a solid one so his voice could come across better?  As it was, he had to work very hard to get himself heard.

Overall this was a good experience, not earth-shattering, but much more enjoyable than I expected.  It also confirms that seeing something again would lead to new understanding and insight into the work, although at $100 a ticket an expensive proposition.

The New York Times review is generally positive.  The reviewer’s major complaint is the overuse of the rotating platform.  His take on the circle of chairs at the beginning of Cavalleria?  That in the small village everyone sees other people’s business.  Not bad.

We went up to Jersey City in the afternoon to pick up Reid to see a doctor; he had an overreaction to insect bites he got while we were in Turks and Caicos.  Anne and I had takeout from Five Guys before we drove into the city.  Traffic nowadays is more congested: signs of impending summer.

BBC Concert Orchestra – Keith Lockhart, conductor; Charlie Albright, piano. April 26, 2015.

NJ State Theatre, Orchestra (Seat K6, $15).

Program

Le Tombeau de Couperin (1914-17, orch. 1919) by Ravel (1875-1937).

Piano Concerto in G Major (1929-31) by Ravel.

March “Crown Imperial” (1937, rev. 1953, edited Vilem Tausky) by William Walton (1902-83).

Norfolk Rhapsody No. 1 (1905-6, rev. 1914) by Vaughan William (1872-1958).

The Young Person’s Guide to the Orchestra – variations and fugue on a theme of Henry Purcell, Op. 34 (1945) by Britten (1913-76).

Amazon Local had tickets on sale for $15 each, which was just too good a bargain to pass up, even though that meant a third concert in three days.  Lockhart is well-known for leading the Boston Pops Orchestra, it turns out he is also the principal conductor for this BBC Concert Orchestra.  BBC has many different ensembles, I have no idea where this ranks in terms of prestige, other than it’s not being a “full” orchestra.  The orchestra managed to fill the entire stage, though.

I remember listening to Le Tombeau de Couperin a while ago, but don’t remember much of it.  Ostensibly written as a tribute to fallen soldiers of WWI, and in the style of Couperin, the Program Notes says there is not much to either the memorial aspect or Couperin (to the latter point, it is French music in general.)  I certainly didn’t hear much sadness in the music, which in general was quite enjoyable.  Looking back at my earlier blog entry (way back in 2007, New York Philharmonic conducted by Salonen), I had similar feelings then.

The four movements are (i) Prelude: Vif [Lively]; (ii) Forlane: Allegretto; (iii) Menuet: Allegro moderato; and (iv) Rigaudon: Assez vif [Fairly lively].

Also going over my blog, I have heard Ravel’s piano concerto quite a few times the last few years, most recently last month.  Perhaps these soloists have a herd mentality, or perhaps I should start to study the piece seriously?  Charlie Albright is a young fellow who is evidently gifted academically and musically, graduating from a Junior College while in high school, and eventually getting degrees from Harvard and New England Conservatory.  He plays with a lot of flourish (some not necessary, in my judgment), too bad the acoustics is such that I often couldn’t hear him.  The passages I heard were impressive though.

This was the final concert by the BBC Concert Orchestra for this US tour, 14 in 21 days (not sure I remember the numbers right.)  Must be exhilarating for a young person starting out his career.

In case there was any worry that the first part of the program was a bit too high-browed, and non-British (we are talking about Keith Lockhart and a BBC orchestra,) the second half’s pieces were in the pops category and works by British composers.  Per Lockhart, three of his four favorite modern British composers.  He also shed a bit of light on the pieces we were about to hear.

The “Crown Imperial” March was written for the occasion of Edward VIII’s coronation.  It was performed for George VI instead, as Edward VIII abdicated to marry the American divorcee Wallis Simpson.  The piece was also performed on multiple royal occasions, including the recent marriage of Prince William to Kate Middleton in 2011.  One is to be excused if this is confused with Edgar’s Pomp and Circumstance.

Vaughan Williams wrote three Norfolk Rhapsodies but withdrew two of them, so there is now only one.  The tunes were collected during his visit and, together with his memory of the landscape, formed the basis of the work.  I do not know the tunes, but the piece sounded nice.

Britten’s Young Person’s Guide and Prokofiev’s Peter and the Wolf are both well-known pieces ostensibly for introducing children to the orchestra.  The latter is much better known (we just heard it on the way back from New York yesterday – Wednesday.)  Britten’s piece is similar in purpose, and does it with a theme, 13 variations (labeled with letters), and a fugue.

The ensemble played two additional encore pieces.  The first one took care of Lockhart's other favorite composer: Salut d'Armour by Elgar, a delightfully light-hearted piece.  I didn't get the name of the second one.

I wonder about the state of classical music in New Jersey.   Today’s performance was of high caliber, yet attendance was quite poor.  It’s the theme with many of the concerts we have been to.  I suppose a lot of people who want to follow a great orchestra will go with New York Philharmonic, and both Lincoln Center and Carnegie Hall get world-class artists to perform on their stages.  Is there anything New Jersey can do to attract people from out of town?  Perhaps bus rides to get people from the city to the venues?

New Jersey Symphony Orchestra – Christoph Konig, conductor; Stefan Jackiw, violin. April 25, 2015.

Count Basie Theatre, Red Bank, NJ.  Rear Balcony (Seat E20, $37.)

Program

The Veil of Pierrette, Op. 18 (1908-09) by Ernst von Dohnanyi (1877-1960).

Romance in F minor for violin and orchestra, Op. 11 (1873-77) by Dvorak (1841-1904).

Tzigane (1922-24) by Ravel (1875-1937).

Symphony No. 5 in F major, Op. 76 (1875, rev. 1887) by Dvorak.

When I saw Dohnanyi as the composer on tonight’s program, I naturally wondered if it was Christoph whom I know as a conductor.  Then I saw the first name, so I thought it must be the father.  The Wikipedia entry clears it up: Ernst is the grandfather of Christoph.  So a family with a long musical tradition.

“A dark tale of infidelity and poisoning, with a powerful mad scene” is how the Program describes this piece.  The plot is about Pierrette’s unfaithfulness to her lover the painter Pierrot.  She abandons him for the wealthy Harlequin.  Consumed by guilt, she goes back to Pierrot and the two make a suicide pact.  Pierrot dies, she survives because she is too frightened to take the poison.  She goes back to the wedding, but forgets her veil.  Pierrot’s ghost returns it to her, and Harlequin finds out about her infidelity.  She breaks down completely and dies.  Dohnanyi told the story with five movements that add up to about 25 minutes: (1) Pierrot’s Complaint of Love; (2) Walzer-Reigen (Waltz Round Dance); (3) Lustiger Trauermarsch (Jolly Funeral March); (4) Hochzeitswaltzer (Wedding Waltz); and (5) Pierettens Wahnsinnstanz (Pierrette’s Dance of Madness.)

The music was quite pleasant, and followed pretty much the description in the Program.  However, the fourth movement flourish ending was such that many in the audience, thinking that it was the end, started to applaud.  Instead of showing annoyance, Konig turned around, picked up the microphone, and explained that the ending was unfortunately tragic.  I was a bit disappointed that the promised madness wasn’t all there, though.

Before the concert began, the assistant principal violist Elzbieta Weyman talked about the violin soloist Stefan Jackiw.  They were in the same youth orchestra, and basically Jackiw’s playing convinced her she should opt for the viola instead.

Jackiw is young (mid 20s?), tall, and thin.  A graduate of Harvard, and an Avery Fisher Career Grant recipient, he has performed with several major orchestras already.

Romances are melodic pieces that are typically quite short, so they don’t get programmed very much in live concerts.  Dvorak’s is no exception, although there are several passages that can be called virtuoso.  It was a good performance, but I was left with two thoughts: his stance reminds me of the violin player in Fiddler on the Roof, and he needs a better violin.  The first remark refers to how he keeps his legs apart, and often arches forward; as to the second remark, his violin certainly has the volume (helped no doubt by a small auditorium), but doesn’t have the brightness of a Strad or the warmth of a Guarnerius.

My first encounter with Tzigane was in Alice Tully Hall with Vadim Repin a few years back.  Even though he botched it quite terribly, I still enjoyed it, thinking that the piece was close to unplayable anyway.

The piece started with a long and difficult violin solo; you could hear the collective breath of the audience when the orchestra came in.  I must say technically Jackiw did a much better job, and Tzigane is for all purposes a show piece anyway.  Zigeunerweisen by Sarasate is the other “gypsy” air that comes to mind.  While (probably) less demanding technically, Sarasate’s piece certainly is more entertaining: you get to enjoy the tunes while on the edge of your seat.  With Ravel it is all about the edge of your seat.

Clearly there are few technical challenges that Jackiw cannot meet, it would be interesting to see how he grows as a musician.  He lives in New York City, so I imagine there will be opportunities to see him again.

After the intermission, Konig again talked to the audience, saying this time we will have a traditional program, and joked that a good time to nap would be the slow second movement.  It turned out to be advice some would take to heart.  Brahms famously was reluctant to write symphonies because he heard “the footsteps of a giant.”  Evidently Dvorak wasn’t intimidated by Beethoven at all, since his first was published in 1865 (the fifth ten years later.)  Of course a musicologist might explain how German and Eastern European schools evolved overtime, the point is I didn’t hear much grandness in it.  Not having a good ear for Bohemian melodies, I didn’t catch how Dvorak wove them into the narrative.  I do agree there are some “pastoral” elements in the work (there, reference to Beethoven in the Program,) and enjoyed the large scale fourth movement (Finale: Allegro molto.)  The other three movements are (i) Allegro ma non troppo; (ii) Andante con moto; and (iii) Scherzo: Allegro scherzando.

Konig is a young German conductor.  In the past I have always complained that the NJSO does poorly under a guest conductor.  Though not inspiring, tonight I thought they did okay.

The was the last of the 5-concert NJSO classical series in Red Bank.  I was disappointed at the number of empty seats in the concert hall.  In any case, NJSO has a sale on for next season, and I bought the one for Red Bank.

Metropolitan Opera – Lehar’s The Merry Widow. April 24, 2015.

Metropolitan Opera at Lincoln Center, Balcony (Seat C115, $121.50).

Story.  The (fictitious) country Pontevedro is about to go broke, and Baron Zeta wants to ensure the new rich widow Hanna Glawari will stay in the country instead of moving to Paris.  To do so, he elicits the help of various Pontevedrians to court Glawari, among whom is her former lover Danilo.  Additional comedic elements in the plot are (i) the love affair between Camille – a Frenchman – and Zeta’s wife Valencienne, (ii) a fan of Valencienne’s with words “I love you” and “I am a respectable wife” written on it, and (iii) Danilo’s aide Njegus, who often lets the wrong words slip out.  Glawari actually loves Danilo and would marry him if he only would say “I love you” to her. Upon finding out from the fan that his wife is unfaithful, Zeta divorces her and proposes to Glawari.  She tells him her late husband will has a stipulation that she won’t get the inheritance if she remarries.  Upon hearing that, everyone loses interest.  When Danilo then declares his love, Glawari adds the inheritance will actually go to her new husband.  Valencienne shows Zeta the other words on the fan and they reconcile.

Conductor – Fabio Luisi; Baron Zeta – Alan Opie, Valencienne – Adriana Chuchman, Camille – Stephen Costello, Njegus – Carson Elrod, Hanna Glawari – Susan Graham, Count Danilo – Rod Gilfry.

I am quite sure when I got this as part of my season subscription, Renee Fleming was going to be in the cast.  A ticket exchange later, the performance we saw had Susan Graham in the cast.  We heard Graham before as Dido in Les Troyens and as Marguerite in La Damnation de Faust, and enjoyed the two performances.

The Playbill describes this as an operetta and a precursor of the Broadway genre, and I am quite sure the remarks are meant as compliments.  Indeed Susan Stroman, a Broadway veteran, was brought is as the director and choreographer.  Also, both Julian Crouch (set designer) and William Ivey Long (costume) have strong Broadway credentials.

The sets are elaborate enough.  The word that keeps coming to mind, however, is symmetry, particularly for Act I (The Ponteverdrian Embassy in Paris) and Act III (Chez Maxim.)  To a lesser extent it applies to Act II (a garden); there, except for a silhouette of Sacre Couer, the image evoked is the garden scene in The Sound of Music.  I must give credit to how smoothly the sets transitions from Act II to Act III.  How the sets look isn’t a big deal for me, although I thought with an equivalent budget they should be able to do better.

Curtain Call with Chez Maxim set.  "Symmetry" is the word that comes to mind.

I can’t decide whether there is more spoken dialog than singing – it certainly felt that way.  That is particularly true with Act I.  There are stretches that I thought I was watching a play, and the orchestra members simply sat there, and Luisi actually had his arms crossed.  Opera singers know how to project their singing voices, but I am not sure they can use the same technique for spoken dialog.  Indeed I had a lot of trouble, and my seat was such the brightness of the stage interferes with the close caption panel.  The tunes are nice, and a couple quite familiar, including the popular“Merry Widow Waltz.”  A particular nice aria is “The Vilja Song” sung by Glawari; as a story told by her it is not quite germane to the main plot.

The singing was generally okay.  Gilfry as Danilo sang adequately, but his voice doesn’t have the richness of a top-tier tenor.  Chuchman as Valencienne did very well.  I thought Susan Graham was a mezzo-soprano (indeed labeled as such in Playbill), so was wondering how she would do, or if they would lower the pitch for her.  I couldn’t tell if the musical signatures were changed, but she certainly seemed to get to some of the very high notes without problem.  I don’t know how Renee Fleming would have done, but I thought Graham did very well.  Alas, that applies to the first two acts only, perhaps up to The Vilja Song, where her voice soared above the orchestra, and her whisper effortlessly lifted to the balcony.  Towards the end her voice was difficult to pick up; the folks next to us also agreed she lost her voice.  Which is too bad, though not as bad as Don Carlo where I thought they should have taken Lee out after the first act.

The orchestra did a great job.  In addition to the pleasant overture, I also enjoyed the solo instruments – especially the violin – that accompanied some of the songs.

For some reason the libretto is often translated from its original German into English for this opera.  And the Met uses a translated done by Jeremy Sams.  I don’t know how the opera would sound in German, but in English – with the rather coerced rhyming – it sounded sappy a lot of times.

This, together with the dialog, the costumes, the choreography, all contributed to my feeling that this is more like a Broadway show than an opera.  Nothing wrong with that, except that I can go to Broadway and watch a show that meets my expectations.

The New YorkTimes review praises some aspects of the performance (Andrew Davis as the conductor, and the choreography) but overall pans the show.  The reviewer also suggests operettas with much spoken dialog don’t quite work at the Met (he used the clever title “Talking (and Talking) About Love.”)  Microphones were used for the dialog, and may explain why I heard some of it – still not good enough though.  He also pointed out that Davis composed some music that was played off-stage on a piano during some of the dialog; no wonder we couldn’t find the piano in the pit.

We left NJ early enough to get into the city.  However, a problem on the Turnpike wreaked havoc on traffic leaving New York, which in turn meant a lot of congestion in Manhattan.  I had to drive on the opposite lane on 57^th (following other cars) to turn onto 11^th Ave.  I managed to find a place to park on Amsterdam (also congested); Anne got off earlier to buy dinner from a street vendor.

The return was straight-forward, we stopped at a Turnpike Rest Area for a quick snack before going home.

Metropolitan Opera – Verdi’s Don Carlo. April 15, 2015.

Metropolitan Opera at Lincoln Center, Orchestra (Seat Z22, $25.)

Story.  Elisabeth, daughter of king of France, is betrothed to Don Carlo, son of King Philip II of Spain.  However, to seal a peace treaty between the two countries, the French king decides to have Elisabeth marry Philip instead.  Meanwhile, Rodrigo, a good friend of Don Carlo, asks Carlo to ask Philip to make Carlo the governor of Flanders, hoping that this will lessen the oppression of the Flemish.  The king refuses, and Carlos is hauled off to jail.  While visiting Carlos in prison, Rodrigo, who has taken up the blame of the Flemish rebellion, is shot on order of the Grand Inquisitor.  As Carlo and Elisabeth then meet at the St. Just Monastery to express hope for happiness in the next world, Philip and the Grand Inquisitor show up to arrest them.  The story ends with the ghost of Charles V (Philip’s father) showing up.

Interwoven in the main story (as I see it) are two more major elements.  The first is a second love triangle where Princess Eboli is in love with Carlo.  Rejected by Carlo, she informs Philip that Elisabeth keeps a portrait of Carlo in her jewel box.  Another element is the persecution of heretics during the inquisition.

Conductor – Yannick Nezet-Seguin; Don Carlo – Yonghoon Lee/Ricardo Tamura, Elisabeth – Lianna Haroutounian, Rodrigo – Luca Salsi, Philip II – Ferruccio Furlanetto, Princess Eboli – Nadia Krasteva, Grand Inquisitor – James Morris.

CS asked us if we wanted to try to get rush tickets for this performance.  This was my first foray into trying to do so, and I am happy to report that we were successful.  More on that later.

A few words about the story as I put it together is in order.  The overall plot is easy enough to follow, if one has some sense of the historical context.  I couldn’t quite incorporate all the subplots (two love triangles, the Inquisition, the political landscape, and the shadow of Charles V) into one “straightline.”  There are still some parts that I don’t understand: where Rodrigo’s loyalty lies, what happens to Carlo and Elisabeth at the end, are two examples.  Per Wikipedia, Carlo was actually mentally unstable, and died six months after being imprisoned by Philip, Elisabeth married Philip when she was 14, and there is no reference to any romance between Elisabeth and Carlo.

I happened across the Opera Philadelphia website earlier today, it contains what I would consider an excellent description of the story (calling it a “synopsis,” as the website does, may be incorrect as it is not a condensed version of the “play-by-play” story.)

There was a small slip in the Playbill that says Lee will replace Tamura as Don Carlo for today’s show. Since I had not heard either of them before, I had not preference.  Before the performance began, a gentleman came on stage and asked for the audience’s understanding as Lee was just recovering from a cold.  The opera started with first a monologue and then a duet by Lee, and my reaction was “wow, if this is how the guy sounds like when he is not well, I can’t imagine how good he would be if he is healthy.”  As the first part (Acts 1 and 2) came to a close, I began to notice his voice was fading – and I am an amateur when it comes to the voice.  I told Anne during the intermission that they should for his sake take him out; I couldn’t imagine continuing would be good for his voice.  He continued with Act 3, and he was really struggling, with his voice drowning out by his co-stars and the orchestra constantly.  Sure enough, after the second intermission, it was announced that Lee couldn’t continue and would be replaced by a singer’s name I didn’t get. I was admiring the depth of Met’s roster when I neighbor told me she heard it was Tamura who was scheduled to sing.  She may well be right, but then I am disappointed at how he did, he wasn’t as clear in the singing, and not as convincing in the acting.  Surprisingly, all this didn’t quite detract from the flow of the opera, or my enjoyment of it.  Of course I am left to wonder what a “flawless” performance by Lee would have been like.

While the Armenian soprano Haroutounian would never be mistaken for a 14-year old, she was a credible Elisabeth.  I was particularly impressed with Furlanetto as King Philip, his bass voice has such a heft befitting the role.  If I may be again so bold as to compare singer, he reminds me of James Morris who played the role of the Grand Inquisitor this evening.  We heard James Morris as Hans Sachs in Die Meistersinger recently, there he put in a command performance, here is role is better characterized as a cameo appearance.

I am writing part of this review while in Providentiales, Turks and Caicos, so some details may escape me as I don’t have Playbill with me.  Although the sets are quite new – debuting a couple of years ago – they are quite traditional in appearance.  A gate is a gate, for example.  They are also cleverly designed.  Even though some props were huge, there was little interruption – if any – between scenery changes.  Most scenes closed with a curtain coming down with Carlo left exposed on stage.  I don’t get the message behind it.

This opera is considered one of Verdi’s most ambitious works, and contains many nice musical numbers.  However, the subject matter is so grim that few of them have found their way into the popular repertoire.  For instance, “Auto-da-fe” is a powerful chorus number, but which chorus will reprise a song that is associated with the public parade and burning of condemned heretics?  The only happy moments are to be found at the beginning of the opera wherein Carlo and Elisabeth declare their love for one another.  The other fact is the opera premiered in Paris, in French.

One more thing.  Opera Philadelphia’s production also boasts famous singers such as Michelle De Young and Eric Owens.  The performance is 3 hours 7 minutes, with a 20 minute break.  So the performers have better stamina, and they have more bathroom facilities.

This is the second time we sat in the Orchestra section, and the voices were all clearly heard (with Lee’s problems noted.)  However, I found to my disappointment that the orchestra sounded a lot more muffled in our seats.  Here we could see the conductor, but no one else.  I was so looking forward to the orchestra music, as the Playbill describes it as a foundation that allows the vocal parts to “go crazy.”

It was very late when we were done, and I drove CS’s car back to New Jersey.  I am glad I got a chance to see this, and cost is only a small part of the equation.  The New York Times review is glowing, especially in the way the review describes how well the conductor and the orchestra did.  He had a lot of praise for Lee, and also points out that Furlanetto is 64, younger than Morris by only a few years.