Korea National Opera – Soul Mate by June Hee Lim. October 31, 2015.

Hong Kong Cultural Centre Grand Theatre.  Stalls 2 (Seat S23, HK$315.)

Story.  For economic and political reasons, Mongwan and Seohyang are arranged to be married by their parents.  Neither wants to do so without love, so they switch places with their assistants Seodong and Ippuni to spy on the other person.  The two pairs end up falling in love with one another.  After their parents (who do not know of the new development) tear up the marriage contract, the two couples decide to elope.  Things are sorted out eventually and the two couples are married.

Conductor – Docki Kim.  Seohyang – Whal Ran Seo, Mongwan – Seung Mook Lee, Ippuni – Hyon Lee, Seodong – Dae San Noh.

Scala Opera Chorus: Byung Wook Lim – Conductor.

Hong Kong Philharmonic Orchestra.

There are quite a few sopranos of Korean descent in the Metropolitan Opera, and some of them have taken on major roles (such as Gilda in Rigoletto.)  Many of these singers have been trained in Korea, so in my way of thinking Korea National Opera must be of certain standing.  Even though I had no idea what this opera would sound like, I was quite ready to give the performance a go, at a (discounted) price of about US$40 per ticket.

Poster advertisement for the opera found inside an MTR walkway.

Curtain call.

I wasn’t disappointed.  Actually I enjoyed the performance very much.

The set is very simple, in the center is a multi-level stage which rotates (it did so only during the last act to simulate movement of a ship.)  Props are dropped and raised as necessary to create the necessary sceneries, and projections on the backdrop show a moving moon and falling leaves.

The story is simple.  Indeed the synopsis of each half was first projected onto the displays on the two sides, and it is even simpler than what I summarize above.  As there is this “symmetry” between the major characters, and between the two families, many lines got used twice, and some got used four times.  Even though I am not good with Korean names, I had little trouble following the story.  And it is interesting to note all the names have meaningful Chinese translations.  Ippuni means “young beautiful girl” and Seodong means “book attendant.”

As a rule, there is chorus singing and dancing at the beginning and end of each act.  The artists are dressed in Korean costumes, the singing is great, and the movements are well-choreographed.  You wonder how much shorter the opera would be if those elements are eliminated.  At the end there was this interminable sequence of verses that made me feel things were dragging on for the first time.  With all that the opera runs about two hours.

To my ears, the music is mostly western with some foreign (which I assume to be Korean) elements thrown in.  It is generally tonal, easy to get, and sounded simple enough.  I could recognize most of the instruments and attributed the new sounds as coming from Korean instruments (flute and percussion; the Program has a listing of them.)  At times I felt like I was in a Broadway show.  At other times I felt like I was watching Lakmi when the two ladies sang a song that began like the “Flower Duet.”  Yet other moments reminded me of Madama Butterfly.

I suppose music critics have a lot to say about all that, and I could probably make a few more pretentious statements about the merits of the opera.  That would detract from the gut-level appeal it has for me, and that includes the simple story.

What is unquestionable is the quality of the singing, which was uniformly excellent.  I don’t know Korean, but with the aid of the projected subtitles, it was easy to follow the story along.  Taken as a whole the story is pedestrian, but taken one aria at a time there were many poignant moments where one could get caught up in the moment.

The orchestra and the conductor were generally hidden from view where we sat.  I thought the sound coming from the pit was great.  With the many “distractions” from the vocal singing, dancing, and scenery changes, I didn’t get to pay lot of attention to how the orchestral music sounded.

The word “grand” wouldn’t be used if I were to give the auditorium a name (it holds 1734 seats per Wikipedia.)  The seats are comfortable, the acoustics generally good, but the stage seems a bit small.  Having the subtitles projected onto the two sides of the stage proved somewhat distracting for me.  This was the first time we attended an event there, if memory serves.

We had a light snack with some Hope International folks before the opera, and most shops were closed when we got out (Hong Kong is overrated as an all-night city.)  We did manage to find something to eat (McDonalds and dim sum) at the Tai Po MTR station at around 11 pm.

Hong Kong Philharmonic – Christoph Eschenbach, conductor; Tzimon Barto, piano. October 24, 2015.

Hong Kong Cultural Centre Concert Hall.  Stalls 1 (Seat G38, HK$390.)

Program

Carnival Overture by Dvorak.

Piano Concerto in F by Gershwin.

Symphony No. 1 in C minor, Op. 68 by Brahms.

We are visiting Hong Kong for about two weeks, and there are two or three concerts that have great potential.  This was the first one.  As seniors (age 60 and up) we got a 50% discount, so we got our seats in the 6^th row (but called “G”) for about US$50 each, which is a great deal.

I have a very high opinion of HK Phil, and today’s performance was up to my expectations, with a couple of minor quibbles on the last piece, and I will get to those.

Dvorak’s Carnival Overture is an oft-performed piece, and there is absolutely no reason to confuse it with Saint-Saens’ Carnival of the Animals.  Yet I managed to do so, and wondered why there was no description of the individual numbers and the animals they describe, and how they manage to squeeze in so much music in the program.  No matter, once I got myself straightened out, the short Overture became very enjoyable and lively, as its name would suggest.  A great start for the evening.

We last heard Gershwin’s Concerto in F performed by Yuja Wang, with the Michael Tislon Thomas conducting the London Symphony, in Avery Fisher Hall.  My recollection – confirmed by a review of my blog entry – was that it was not a particularly impressive performance, with one of the complaints that we couldn’t hear the piano well given where we sat.  My reaction today was completely different.  I can’t tell who was the better pianist, but the performance by Barto felt intimate, more like a piece of chamber music, with excellent give-and-take between the soloist and members of the orchestra.  Instead of straining to hear the music and trying to understand it, today I sat back and enjoyed it.

I had not heard of Barto before, and was surprised to find out he is American, born in Florida.  And he looked older than the picture in the Program Notes would suggest: he had a full head of black hair when the picture was taken; and let’s say the hair has changed a great deal.  He did seem to perform the piece with ease and aplomb, despite the many difficult passages.  He performed an encore that sounded like one of Gershwin’s jazz pieces.

Much has been said about Brahms’s first symphony and how the completion of it gave Brahms the confidence that his composition skills were good.  So it is quite amazing that it is not nearly as frequently programmed as Brahms’s other symphonies.  I don’t recall ever heard it live before.

And there is no reason why it is performed more regularly.  It is complex, but not as complex as Brahms’s later works.  At 45 or so minutes it isn’t short, but didn’t felt repetitive at all.  Per the Program Notes, Wagner made the disparaging remark that he heard the entire first movement without hearing “an idea, a melody that irresistibly fills the universe with grandeur and emotion.”  I certain thought it was easy to understand, and the one melody that I knew (the chorale-like melody) was lovely.

The Program Notes had something interesting to say about Gershwin and Brahms’s background.  Both had humble beginnings, and Brahms at a young age had to support his family by playing the piano in seedy salons.  The Notes associate this with Brahms’ being unmarried his whole life.  Perhaps a bit much.

My only complaint was one violin player was playing a bit too loud (I believe it was the concertmaster.)  And someone came in early.  Both no-nos as far as I am concerned.  The latter could be attributed to Eschenbach being a guest conductor.

There were solo and ensemble passages by various instruments (I recall the violin, horn, and oboe) and they were all done very well.  Both Anne and I thought the timpanist could be a bit more into it, though.  The conducting was energetic, with Eschenbach trying to coax out different lines.

All in all, just minor quibbles for an otherwise lovely evening of great music.  The attendance was quite good, much to my relief.

We left after dinner in Taipo, and got back at about 11:30 pm.  The trains were not as crowded as they used to be.

Metropolitan Opera – Wagner’s Tannhauser. October 19, 2015.

Metropolitan Opera at Lincoln Center.  Dress Circle (Seat E120, $147.50).

Story.  Tannhauser abandons his love Elisabeth and lives with Venus.  He eventually decides to leave Venusberg to go back to Elisabeth.  However, his living with Venus is considered a sin that can only be forgiven by him making a pilgrimage to Rome.  When the pilgrims return, and Tannhauser is not among them, Elisabeth is broken with grief and is on the verge of dying.  Tannhauser appears, and explains that his transgression can no more be forgiven than the papal staff bearing leaves again.  Venus appears when Tannhauser summons her, but disappears when Elisabeth’s funeral procession comes down the valley.  Tannhauser also dies.  Another group of pilgrims arrives, and brings the Pope’s staff which has blossomed.

Conductor – James Levine.  Venus – Michelle DeYoung, Tannhauser – Johan Botha, Elisabeth – Eva-Maria Westbroek.

Due to our expectation of being quite busy this year, we bought only a “3-ticket” package for this season.  And we had to switch the first one, from October 27 to today, as we will be out of town later this week.  So the decision to curtail the commitment was a good one.

This was one of Wagner’s earlier works, and before he fully adopted his later writing style using leitmotifs and the idea of Gesamtkunstwerk (“total work of art”).

Indeed this opera felt very different from Wagner’s later works (the Ring Cycle operas and Tristan and Isolde come to mind.)  A good illustration would be the many orchestral pieces (or mostly orchestral) such as the overture and ballet at the beginning.  The two combined lasted about twenty minutes, and to the uninitiated (such as me) at times sounded like Beethoven or even Verdi.  Most of my Wagner exposure has been his later style, so this was both unexpected  and welcome, although at times cognitive dissonance would come in as I had to keep reminding myself this was Wagner.

The set was first used in 1977, and is of the “realistic” kind – as much as Venusberg can be realistic, granted.  While I have no problem with that, there was again some cognitive dissonance as they have no semblance to the sets used in the Ring Cycle, Parsifal, or Tristan and Isolde.  I don’t recall this being a problem with Meistersinger though.

Levine conducted the premiere of the 1977 production, this is close to 40 years later.  Meanwhile the maestro has suffered through some health problems.  He still needed the special wheelchair, today he would be pushed in and out for the different acts; the last few times they did a bit more to “hide” this from the audience.  I don’t know whether he is continuing to recover, or his health has deteriorated recently, but today he seemed to favor the right side, a lot.  This was a rather long opera (total performance time around 3:30 hours), and he appeared quite energetic.  Certainly the sound of the orchestra is as good as I have heard it.  I do wonder how he compares with the 1977 Levine though.

When I did the ticket exchange, I paid a bit extra to upgrade to the Dress Circle.  It may just be the great singing voices (of everyone involved,) or the acoustics are that much better.  All the three principals did a marvelous job.  While the sympathetic figure is Elisabeth, Botha as Tannhauser did the most singing.  He did very well, his voice projecting clearly, oftentimes against a full orchestra, sometimes with a full chorus added in.  Both DeYoung and Westbroek fulfilled their roles well.  I did think every now and then they could swap roles and would do equally well (I don’t know if the ranges of the roles are the same.)  My one complaint would be they could use a softer voice every now and then; well, that, and they were all on the stout side.

The minstrels held a small instrument they referred to as the harp when they sang, with the harpist in the pit doing the real strumming.  So this opera is one where the harp got a lot of exposure, with many virtuoso passages; the principal Emmanuel Ceysson did a superb job.

There were many other singing roles, and several choral numbers.  Again uniformly good.  Most of the choral numbers were for men, though.

When I read the synopsis in the Program Notes, I got the impression this was going to be a poorly concocted story that wouldn’t quite hang together.  Wagner created the story by combining elements of different and even unrelated sources.  In this case a mythical realm of Venus, a story of the Pope’s staff, a contest of medieval minstrels, and Saint Elisabeth; a recipe for confusion.  However, I found the plot to be quite easy to follow, and some of the action shed light on said confusion.  For example, being in love with Venus is condemned, and thus required penance and forgiveness.  Wagner also had a clever construction where Tannhauser spat out the fact he was with Venus during the minstrel song contest.  A curious fact: the name Tannhauser was not used in the opera at all, instead he was referred to by his given name Heinrich.

Looking over what I wrote, I am surprised how positive it is.  I never know how I will react to Wagner’s work the first time I hear it.  I don’t remember any that I would take such a liking on the first hearing.  This is by no means an easy opera to perform, and much credit has to be given to Levine: whatever condition his physical health is, he certainly maintained a high level of excellence throughout the program.

Anne had to go into Flushing for a morning meeting, so she left our house a bit after 7 am.  It was close to 1 am when we got home.  Our dinner was slices of pizza.

The New YorkTimes review is generally positive on Levine’s performance, although the reviewer points out several places where things got a bit sloppy.  He also did a rundown of each singer’s performance.  His remark “singing comes first in opera” (similar to what I have said before) comes before his description of Botha as being hefty.  He spared the leading ladies any similar remarks, though.  The sad news is Levine has withdrawn from conducting Lulu, with a new production planned in large part for him.

Boston Symphony – Andris Nelsons, conductor; Lars Vogt, piano. October 10, 2015.

Symphony Hall, Boston.  Second Balcony (Section 28C, Seat D2, $66.)

Program

“Divisions” for Orchestra (2014) by Sebastian Currier (b. 1959).

Piano Concerto No. 3 in C minor, Op. 37 (premiere 1803), by Beethoven (1770-1827).

Symphony No. 2 in D, Op. 73 (1877), by Brahms (1833-1897).

We are visiting the Boston area for the long weekend.  There were not too many tickets left at 7 pm, when we got to Symphony Hall.  We decided to pass on the $145 prime seats, and opted for these $66 tickets instead.  Seats 1 and 2 are at the end of the center row, with the right side of the stage (cellos and basses, mostly) blocked.  We managed to shift into two vacant seats towards the center, and that made a big difference.  Symphony Hall reminds me of the great European concert halls I have been too, with great acoustics, but there are too many seats that would require a lot of leaning forward or sideways to get a good view of the stage.

Let me jump to the conclusion right away: this was a great concert.

My appreciation started with the first piece, a modern composition written to commemorate the start of the first world war.  A group of orchestras (BSO among them) commissioned ten different works for this purpose, and this is the last of the ten to be performed.

With most modern pieces, the best conclusion I can draw is “I may enjoy it more if I get to listen to it more often.”  Here my appreciation is immediate.  The composition is unmistakably modern, but it had a structure that was easy to grasp, and conveyed the message readily.  I quote from the composer: “My starting point was the rather obvious observation that we humans are a jumble of contradictory impulses: at our best so creative, insightful, and altruistic, at our worst so inexplicably short-sighted, destructive, and sadistic.”  The construction of the piece is more complicated than that, and to get how the piece actually progresses would take multiple listenings, at least in my case.  Yet it was easy to like.

The way the orchestra started the Beethoven piece really justified their reputation as an organization that plays with great precision.  With the great acoustics of the hall, the phrase “wow, this is clean” readily came to mind.  That set the tone for the entire performance.  With the exception of a few places where the piano was a bit too soft, it was a performance worthy of an engineered CD recording.  The sound was warm without being sugary, and the interpretation thoughtful without being too emotional. As with familiar pieces, I have in my mind how a great performance would be like, and this one met and often exceeded my expectations.  The three movements are Allegro con brio, Largo, and Rondo: Allegro.

Paul Lewis was the soloist already scheduled, but had to withdraw because of an “unanticipated surgical procedure.”  I had heard him a couple of times in New York, and Lars Vogt once this summer.  From what I can recall from those performances, the substitution is not a downgrade at all.  The audience rewarded the performance with a warm applause.

Brahms’s second symphony is a concert staple, and I have been quite familiar with it since my college days.  This is a symphony that’s easy to get musically, even though the Program Notes calls it “perhaps the most regularly misread of Brahms’s major works.”  The ambiguity starts with Brahms’s own descriptions of this work: to his friend Eduard Hanslick he wrote “It’ll sound so cheerful and lovely …,” but to Clara Schumann he described it as “elegiac.”  The symphony comprises of four movements: Allegro non troppo, Adagio non troppo, Allegretto grazioso (quasi andantino), and Allegro con spirito.

The other “characteristic” is that even though the structure of the composition is relatively straightforward, and the different melodies are easy to get, most performances I have heard sounded muddled.  Or, not as “clean” as it should sound.  Not even the Boston Symphony managed to make it sound clean, and now I wonder if that is possible at all.  Some symphonies (Tchaikovsky Pathetique comes to mind) are meant to be wild, although I never would have put Brahms’s second in that category.  All that aside, this was an enjoyable performance.  The piece calls for many solo passages from the woodwind and brass instruments, and they all did a marvelous job.  In the description there was no mention of tuba, but interestingly one was present, giving the brass section a solid footing.  (Wikepedia reference does mention a tuba.)

Andris Nelsons is a young conductor (born 1978), this is his second year with the BSO, which had gone without a music director for a while since Levine resigned a few years ago.  I had seen him conducting at the Met a few years back, but frankly forgot how he did (and the conductor usually isn’t the focus in an opera performance anyway.)  I was impressed with how he moved the music forward.  It did seem he seldom stood straight: he leaned forward, sideways, and backwards a lot; he also crouched down a lot, but I didn’t see him jump all that much.  A “more is more” type, but gets the job well done.

Our son’s place, where we are staying, is a bit less than a mile from the Assembly T-station, Anne and I walked there to catch the subway into town.  It was a bit on the cold side (high 40s) when we walked back.  We had only time for a quick bite at a nearby Panera Bread.

New York Philharmonic – Alan Gilbert, conductor; Sasha Cooke, mezzo-soprano; Emanuel Ax, piano. October 1, 2015.

David Geffen Hall at Lincoln Center, Orchestra (Seat V105, $69.50.)

Program

Tragic Overture, Op. 81 (1880) by Brahms (1833-97).

Canta-Concerto (2014) by Marc Neikrug (b. 1946).

Concerto No. 2 in B-flat major for piano and orchestra, Op. 83 (1878-81) by Brahms.

This was our first concert of the season.  After having attended three out-of-town concerts, I was ready to “go home” to more familiar surroundings.

Two of the pieces are by Brahms.  The Overture was written by the composer during his summer vacation at Bad Ischl.  The Playbill says Brahms said the piece could be called either “dramatic” or “tragic.”  Various commentators have attributed a story to the music, including Goethe’s Faust.  The composer said there was none – but evidently no one knows for sure if he was serious.

The more interesting point made in the Playbill is that “The Academic Overture” was written at about the same time, and stands in contrast to Tragic.  One would think it would be illuminating to hear the two overtures in quick succession, but not today.

The orchestra put in a superb performance.  They were precise, had great dynamics, and generally produced a wonderful sound.  I wouldn’t have used the word “tragic” to describe it; and tried as I did, I couldn’t hear any Faust in it either.

Before playing the Canta-Concerto, Gilbert and the composer came out and talked for a bit.  This was the world premiere of the composition, and it was commissioned by the New York Philharmonic.  Indeed one wonders why the voice is seldom used as a “solo instrument” since a lot of soloists are asked to make their instruments sing like a voice.  The Playbill mentions one such composition from 1943, written by the Russian composer Gliere, titled “Concerto for Coloratura Soprano and Orchestra.”  I thought it was bad form when Neikrug said “I can say that, since the composer is dead: it isn’t very good.” The vocal solo utilizes different sounds (proto-language) that Gilbert characterized as “gibberish,” but he qualified that by saying its like listening to an opera in Czech without subtitles, one can still tell there is emotion in the sound.

The 25-minute work is in four movements: (I) Moderato q=72, (II) Mosso q=72, (III) Adagio q=54, (IV) Vivo q=92.  The second movement is especially short.

It may be unfair to make an assessment after one hearing, and of a new genre at that.  But I must say I am tempted to use the same words to describe this piece as Neikrug used for Gliere’s piece.  It is difficult enough to follow the music, but the various sounds made by the soloist were simply too distracting for me to focus on the overall structure of the movements.  While my appreciation of contemporary music is usually at the “I can tolerate it” level, every now and then there are pieces I would like to hear again to get a better understanding.  There is no desire in this instance.  I also would take issue with Gilbert’s statement.  In the case of an opera the listener generally has some idea of the storyline and with the help of the action and scenary can associate the emotion expressed in the voice with what is happening in the story (although in my experience, often wrong.)  Here there is no story.  I do wonder how the music would come across if a regular instrument (say a flute) is used.

Sasha Cooke has a great voice that projects well.  I just wished she had done something in the more traditional repertoire – say Britten.  I heard her a couple of years back in Britten’s Spring Symphony.  To use the voice as an instrument and not take advantage of its ability to speak is such a waste.

Brahms’s second piano concerto is often called “serene and warm.”  To me those adjectives apply only when this work is compared with his first concerto.  This is especially true with how the two pieces begin: one with the roll of the timpani followed by the full orchestra, the other with a (soft) horn introduction.  Of course in the slow movement there is this lovely tune played by the cello, which Carter Brey just nailed.  (The orchestra seating was rearranged so the cello section was on the outside.)

I have always found Emanuel Ax’s playing thoughtful, and have been amazed how he can tell a story with how he puts the performance together.  He did that tonight, but the performance was a notch below his usual high standard: at times the sound was a bit muddled, and the music sometimes didn’t seem to go try to go anywhere.  But we are talking about an “A” performance instead of an “A+” one here.

It was good to see the familiar faces, and the few new ones.  In the Bass section there is a young Chinese woman listed as “replacement/extra.”  Case Scaglione, who just got promoted to Associate Conductor recently, is gone.

The most obvious change was of course the new concertmaster, Frank Huang.  We had seem him a couple of times last year when he was auditioning for the job.  He seemed to enjoy himself, and well he should.  Still moved around a bit much by Dicterow standards, perhaps the audience will get used to that.  It is noteworthy (to me at least) that he stayed during Ax’s performance.  There were no solo passages for him, so I looked up the New York Times review for last week’s performance, where the concertmaster had considerable playtime as Pauline in Strauss’s “Ein Heldenleben.”  The reviewer had something good to say about him in an otherwise critical review of the program.

We stopped by Ellie’s place before going into the city via PATH and the subway.  I stepped into one of these pools from the recent rains on the sidewalk, the wet shoe felt quite uncomfortable afterwards.  It was about 11:45 pm when we got home.

[Note on October 4: Here is the New York Times review.  The reviewer had a lot of good things to say about the program.]

Cincinnati Symphony Orchestra – Louis Langree, conductor; Yefim Bronfman, piano. September 26, 2015.

Music Hall, Cincinnati, Ohio.  Orchestra 2 (Seat 29-8, $70.)

Program

Overture to Fidelio Op 72 (1814) by Beethoven (1770-1827).

Concerto No. 2 for Piano and Orchestra (1931) by Bartok (1881-1945).

Symphonie Fantastique, Op. 14a (1830) by Berlioz (1803-1869).

We again got to the venue early enough to hear the pre-concert talk, by CSO’s director of artistic administration Isaac Thompson (I think.)  His first remark was this is also a 3-B concert, although not quite the traditional 3-B people think of (and what we heard last night, with some qualifications.)  He then proceeded to describe the pieces on the program.  It took Beethoven on and off ten years to finish Fidelio, and he wrote four different overtures for it.  The Lenore Overtures are all popular concert pieces, and the one heard today is now considered the standard.  Bartok was a brilliant pianist and he wrote the piece with himself in mind as the soloist, trying to make it easier to play than the incredibly difficult first concerto.  In that regard he didn’t succeed – not that I would be able to tell.  Thompson’s take on Symphonie fantastique is similar to what I heard in Lincoln Center a couple of years back, although he didn’t mention the role of Dies Irae in the final movement.

Built in 1878, Music Hall is a large building, and the main auditorium. seating over 3500 people per Wikipedia, is the fourth largest concert hall in the United States.  Its acoustics are also supposed to be quite good.  Even though we had the “cheap seats” in the back, we thought in general it lived up to its reputation; however, the humming of the air conditioning made some of the softer passages a bit difficult to get.

I have heard Fidelio in concert, and - even though I can’t tell them apart - I know the overtures quite well.  They are all enjoyable pieces, and it is puzzling to me why the opera is not staged more often; indeed I am not aware of its being staged anywhere.  In any case, the overture was a good start for the evening, the six minutes went by very quickly.  Langree elicited a good sound, with great contrast and drama, from the orchestra.  I wondered whether he needed such exaggerated movements to get what he wanted; I would end up wondering about this the entire evening.

The 25 or so minute Bartok concerto consists of three movements: Allegro, Adagio-Presto-Adagio, and Allegro Molto.  The first movement was an interesting dialog between the soloist and the orchestra (no strings.)  Initially there were only strings in the second movement, and the whole movement had a mysterious air to it.  The quiet passages were played a bit too quietly, so much so that coughs, rustling papers, and creaky chairs (including mine) became major distractions; and it was then that I noticed the air conditioning’s sound.  The third wasn’t quite a free-for-all, but was wild enough.  I had never heard this before, so a lot of the music just swept by me.  The Program Notes also talks of Bartok’s love of symmetry.  For this concerto the outer movements are fast, and the middle movement is slow-fast-slow. I did get the second movement, and don’t most concertos have fast first and last movements?  As with other Bartok pieces, I am sure I will like it if given the chance to hear it more often. 

Bronfman played an encore, probably by Schumann.

Even the subject matter for Symphonie fantastique is a bit macabre, it is a very attractive piece of work.  Berlioz was about 30 years younger than Beethoven, but their musical styles were vastly different – you would never mistake the two of them.  This was a great performance, and I could tell the audience was captivated by the story of unrequited love, drug-induced hallucination, death, and hell.  The only thing we missed was the dialog between the oboe and the English horn, our seats were such that we heard the oboe’s sound as reflected from the stage, so didn’t get the “stereo” effect.  Also, many in the audience thought the piece ended after the fourth movement.  It is always a good idea to read the Program Notes beforehand.  For the record, the five movements are (i) Reveries, Passions; (ii) A Ball; (iii) Scene in the Country; (iv) March to the Scaffold; and (v) Dream of the Witches’ Sabbath.

The Program Notes also contains a very detailed description of the piece and Berlioz’s history with the subject of the composition: Harriet Smithson.  The score calls for six harps, only four were used for the performance.  While understandable for practical and budgetary reasons, they could have used the two additional harps.

At the beginning of the concert, the President of the CSO came out and announced that (i) they just completed contract negotiations with the musicians, and they are set for another 5 years; (ii) they successfully raised $26 million so they could add 14 players to their organization; and (iii) someone just endowed a new chair for a horn player.  In contrast to Pittsburgh, attendance was good today.  And we are talking about a much larger auditorium.

When the term CSO is mentioned, most people think of the other orchestra: Chicago Symphony.  I assume they are not in the same league yet, but it won’t surprise me that in a few years Cincinnati will be associated with CSO for many folks outside of this area.  Indeed they are going to Lincoln Center this season.

It’s been an exhausting few days, but Anne and I both enjoyed the trip.  It is not such a crazy idea, and we might even try some other combinations of orchestras in the future.  I didn't come to Cincinnati with high expectations, and was pleasantly surprised.  I often joke that people should go out more, that applies to me as well.

[Note added: The orchestra played the National Anthem with the audience on their feet at the beginning; I don't recall ever seeing that.  Also, all three conductors are Europeans; nothing wrong with that, but where are the well-known American conductors?]

Pittsburgh Symphony Orchestra – Manfred Honeck, conductor; Augustin Hadelich, violin. September 25, 2015.

Heinz Hall, Pittsburgh, PA.  Orchestra Center (Seat L108, $79.)

Program

Chaconne from the Partita No. 2 for Unaccompanied Violin in D minor, BWV 1004 (1720) by Bach (1685-1750), arranged for String Orchestra by Hideo Saito.

Symphony No. 8 in F major, Op. 93 (1811-12) by Beethoven (1770-1827).

Concerto for Violin and Orchestra in D major, Op. 77 (1878) by Brahms (1833-1897).

This is the second day of our 3-day concert trip.  We ate a dinner at an India restaurant near our downtown Pittsburgh hotel, and were able to attend the 7 pm pre-concert talk, by the young assistant conductor of the orchestra, Francesco Lecce-Chong.

He pointed out the obvious, which was that this concert is an often-talked-about-but-seldom-programmed BBB concert: Bach, Beethoven, and Brahms.  The purist would say the first B is somewhat adulterated, the original was for a solo violin, but tonight we would hear an arrangement made for a string orchestra.  We had heard a couple of times the arrangement made for one piano, left hand, and Lecce-Chong pointed out a couple of other arrangements, including one for a violin with piano accompaniment.  He played some excerpts from the different “versions,” and they sounded very different.

Many people consider Beethoven’s Eighth to be somewhat out of place.  The fifth has its well-known “victory” theme, the sixth is the first symphony as “program music,” the seventh is revered as the apotheosis of the dance by none other than Richard Wagner, and we all know the seminal ninth as the Choral Symphony.  Lecce-Chong used a few points to illustrate the uniqueness of the Eighth, including the fact that Beethoven threw tradition progression in the face, sometimes by repeating a chord (or “dischord”) several times.  Indeed, I can hum the melodies of many movements of the 5^th, 6^th, 7^th, and 9^th readily from memory, but I have some trouble recalling those from the 8^th, although I am not unfamiliar with the work.  The four movements are Allegro vivace e con brio, Allegretto scherzando, Tempo di minuetto, and Allegro vivace.  Beethoven did away with the slow movement and put in both a scherzo and a minuet.

Lecce-Chong also had a slightly different take on Brahms’ compulsion for needing his work to be perfect.  Most would attribute that partially to Beethoven’s huge shadow, and Lecce-Chong posited that Brahms felt confident after completing his first symphony that he in quick succession finished Piano concerto No. 2, the violin concerto, and Symphony No. 2.  He describes the violin’s part as virtuoso not for virtuoso’s sake, so a conductor never feels he/she is there simply to keep time during some of the flourisher moments, and thus there is a great partnership between the soloist and the orchestra.  He also noted that both Brahms’ and Beethoven’s Violin Concertos are in the same key.  I am in awe of how Beethoven managed to compose such a memorable work using such basic ingredients as scales and arpeggios.  In that sense Brahms had nothing over Beethoven.  Reasonable points, and of some interest.

Too bad only about 40 or 50 people sat through the 30-minute talk; and this was in the main auditorium, seating 2676 per Wikipedia.  Anne felt the building gives a feeling of intimacy.  I just thought there is a lot of elbow room – unlike Avery Fisher (now David Geffen) or Carnegie Hall.

As it got close to the start time of 8 pm, I was wondering where the people were.  The center row we were in, 11^th from the front, has about 16 seats.  Six were occupied.  There was a large swath of empty seats in front of us.  The two rows behind us were quite empty also, although things were better in the back.  The balcony holds many seats, I couldn’t see up from where I was.  All I can say is I felt bad, but I also had the nagging feeling that this was not unusual.

I was surprised when the first piece was performed by a full orchestra, woodwind, brass, and percussion included.  It sounded like Bach’s Chaconne, but I at times doubted it.  I double checked the Program Notes, it kept on telling me the orchestration was for strings.  In any case, it was a nice piece of music that would be a good test of an orchestra’s range, as diverse tempo, volume, and degrees of difficulty are called for.  If I were to give out a grade, this would be a good but not exceptional performance.  There were quite a few rapid runs in various parts of the orchestra that sounded quite muddled.

The orchestra did much better with the Beethoven symphony.  Technically it may be a little easier than the arranged Bach Chaconne, it was still not an easy feat to keep it all together with the many starts and stops that are typical in Beethoven’s work – may be more than usual, per Lecce-Chong.  The current orchestra roster has no one as the concertmaster, and for this series the “guest” is Noah Geller, the concertmaster at Kansas City Symphony.  Auditioning, no doubt.  His instrument was quite prominent during this piece, which to me is a no-no for any section player.  However, he played very well, and didn’t “stand out” as much during the next piece.  Perhaps someone dropped a hint during the intermission?

I had heard Hadelich a couple of times before.  I recall I was not blown away with his New York Philharmonic performance, but really liked what he did with New Jersey Symphony in Princeton.  I called his encore (Paganini’s Caprice No. 24) perfect (or some words to that effect.)

He was a bit shaky at the beginning, not that he got any notes wrong, or he was visibly nervous.  But the sound was harsh and somewhat distant (remember, we were in row 11.)  A few minutes in, things improved greatly, the same instrument (the 1723 “Ex-Kiesewetter” Stradivarius) sounded smooth and intimate. Overall it was an excellent performance.  The first movement – Allegro non troppo - was so brilliantly done that I was sure people would applaud (they didn’t,) the second movement – Adagio -with its well-known oboe introduction, showcased a dialog between the orchestra and the soloist, and the third movement – Allegro giocoso, ma non troppo vivace – had the soloist and orchestra challenging each other to great heights.  Many have described this concerto as one where the soloist works against the orchestra; Lecce-Chong would disagree with that assessment, and I agree with him.  While the violin is not the instrument that carries the bulk of the melody, the movement would not be close to complete without the plaintive voice of the instrument.

The applause was thunderous.  As encore Hadelich played Caprice No. 5 of Paganini.  It was impressive, although I wouldn’t use the term “perfect” in this instance.

While there are a few things to quibble with the concert, I actually enjoyed it, not only at the direct level, but also at a more intellectual level.  “Intellectual” is perhaps too strong a word, but the experience gave me new insight into several issues.

We had seen Honeck a couple of times before, most recently last summer during the Salzburg Festival.  He, and the orchestra, deserve a better audience that tonight’s attendance would indicate.  Pittsburgh is supposedly going through a revival, let’s hope the arts scene improves as well.

It will be a five hour drive to Cincinnati tomorrow.

The Cleveland Orchestra – Franz Welser-Most, conductor. September 24, 2015.

Severance Hall, Cleveland, Ohio.  Dress Circle (Seat CC606, $89.)

Program

Symphony No. 41 (“Jupiter”) in C major, K551 (1788) by Mozart (1756-1791).

An Alpine Symphony, Op. 64 (1915) by Richard Strauss (1864-1949).

Anne and I are on a 3-day 3-concert trip, visiting Cleveland, Pittsburg, and Cincinnati.  We have heard Louis Langree conduct the Mostly Mozart Festival Orchestra quite a few times over the past few summers, and would like to see how he does with his own orchestra on his own turf (Cincinnati).  A couple of months ago I heard Welser-Most and the Cleveland Orchestra perform two concerts at Lincoln Center, and like them very much, so again I wanted to see how they do at home.  Pittsburg turns out to be nearby, and it is where the last conductor of New York Philharmonic, the late Lorin Maazel, spent time in his early music career; that Honeck is the conductor also adds to the attractiveness.

The Cleveland Orchestra is the fifth oldest orchestra in the United States, and has always enjoyed a great reputation.  The conductors before Welser-Most were von Dohnanyi, Maazel, Boulez, and Szell, quite a list.  Severance Hall was constructed for the Cleveland Orchestra and opened in 1931.  According to the Wikipedia entry on the building, it has one of America’s greatest Art Deco interiors, the auditorium itself “glistens with Art Deco motifs in aluminum leaf,” which makes for a very bright stage; the stage, however, is modernist because of renovations for acoustics improvement.  It seats about 2,000.

We picked up the tickets at around 6:30 pm, and were told there was a pre-concert event in the Reinberger Chamber Hall.  It turns out to be an “interview” of Welser-Most about aspects of the new season.  A couple of interesting remarks.  Welser-Most said he kind of outgrew Wagner (except Parsifal and Meistersingers) but enjoys Strauss’s straightforwardness and simplicity.  He also mentioned that this season they will be doing two Bartok ballets: The Miraculous Mandarin and Bluebeard Castle that should drive the listener either to suicide or a large bottle of vodka.  A review of the year’s concerts shows a program on excerpts from Wagner’s Gotterdammerung; and Anne and I are somewhat interested in this ballet program.

Back to tonight’s concert.  The works were the last of the respective composer’s genre.  Mozart would die in about three years, and Strauss had another three decades to go.  Mozart’s is a “pure” music composition, while Strauss’s is a tone poem describing a day in the Alpines.  Someone who can translate this “book knowledge” into actual perception would probably appreciate the programming a lot; for me, the two work well individually.  Of course I don’t know what I missed.

Per the Program Notes, this symphony is known in Germany as “with the final fugue.”  There is a long description of each movement and how they transcend the traditional movement types from which they come.  The four movements are Allegro vivace, Andante cantabile, Menuetto: Allegro – Trio, and Molto allegro.  I really enjoyed the first and last movements, but had some trouble staying up for the middle two.

In my defense, we caught an early flight from Newark this morning, which necessitated our getting up at 5 am.  Being the night owl that I am, I got four hours of sleep last night.  I did nap for about 30 minutes this afternoon.

While the music is characteristically light and crisp, it also has a lot more “Sturm und Drang” than usual, so much so that I thought some passages were Beethoven-like.  The final movement does contain some fugue constructions (one particularly familiar passage comes to mind) that would explain the German description.  There is no accepted reason why it is called “Jupiter,” a possible explanation is Jupiter is the chief of gods in Roman mythology.

Musicologists debated the structure of this Mozart Symphony at length, and apparently they still do.  There is no doubt about what story Strauss was trying to tell in his Alpine Symphony.  The idea to write music about a hike in the Alps dated to Strauss’s childhood, and he did write some music to describe his own (mis)adventure hike where he got lost and was drenched by rain.  Most probably none of the original found its way into this work, completed some forty years later.  In any case, the tone poem begins and ends with night, with some interesting intervening events happening in between.  Strauss labeled the varying sections thus: Night, Sunrise, The Ascent Begins, Entering the Woods, Walking Along the Brook, At the Waterfall, Apparition, On Flowery Meadows, In the Mountain Pasture, Wrong Path through the Thicket, On the Glacier, Dangerous Moments, At the Summit, Vision, The Fog Rises, The Sun is Gradually Obscured, Elegy, Calm before the Storm, Thunder and Storm/Descent, Sunset, Journey’s End/Quieting, and Night; 22 in all.

I heard this work once before, some nine years ago, and I am sure I was lost then.  Today, the Cleveland Orchestra is considerate enough to project each of the label briefly so the audience could follow the story.  While the sections make sense, it is quite understandable why anyone who is not a Strauss expert may get hopelessly lost.  Strauss’s sunrise is spectacular, think Also Sprach Zarathustra, but my sunrise is quiet and slowly warms the day, so it would be natural for me to think I missed the sunrise when I hear this loud noise, and it will be impossible to recover.  Some of the sections are very short, I think “The Fog Rises” was not even 30 seconds in length, and thus easily missed.  By projecting 22 short phrases onto the stage, the appreciation of the music increases multifold – I wonder why this is the first time it has ever happened in my experience.  I remember spending a lot of time correlating the story behind the Rite of Spring to the music; it tool multiple listenings before I began to map the music to the description.

Most of the preceding paragraph was lifted from the Program Notes, which also talks about the orchestra being 120-strong.  Here is my attempt to count the musicians on stage: 35 violins, 11 violas, 12 cellos, 9 basses, 35 woodwind/brass, 5 percussion, 1 keyboard, 2 harps, and 5 percussions.  This is a fun piece to watch as it calls for a wind machine and a thunder machine (the latter being a shaken large metal sheet.)  I must say it is impressive how this large group managed to hang together and produce a coherent piece of music.

The orchestra played an encore, appropriately called “Moonlight.”

This was opening night for the season, and there was some excitement in the air.  Not as much as I expected, perhaps a reflection of the more reserved nature of Midwest folds.  And certainly not the black-tie event of the New York Philharmonic opening night.  Anne and I felt comfortable in our “business casual” attire.  There were a few empty seats, somewhat to my surprise.

We only had a quick meal beforehand at a nearby Qdoba, and I was hoping to catch a snack at the University Center food court.  The Center is open till 2 am, but the shops were all closed; it was before 10 pm.  And they call themselves a university?

Pittsburg next!

Mostly Mozart Festival Orchestra – Louis Langree, conductor; Haydn’s The Creation. August 21, 2015.

Avery Fisher Hall at Lincoln Center, Orchestra (Seat T105, $53.50.)

Program

The Creation (1796-98) by Haydn (1732-1809).

Artists

Sarah Tynan, soprano; Thomas Cooley, tenor; John Relyea, bass.

Concert Chorale of New York, James Bagwell, director.

Given our being away so much so far this summer, that we were able to attend the sixth (if the opera “Written on Skin” is included) concert of the 49^th Mostly Mozart Festival was quite a feat.  Perhaps because this was also the conclusion of the Festival, there was this intangible excitement and buzz in the air that I thought was quite fitting.  I continue to admire the ability of this group of musicians to put forward a large number of programs in a few short weeks, and many of the pieces are technically quite challenging.

The oratorio is divided into three parts that follow an orchestral introduction called “The Representation of Chaos” describing the progression from the inchoate cosmos to the first appearance of light.  Part I describes the first four days where the heavens, the earth, and the plants were created.  Part II depicts the fifth and sixth days, in which sentient life (including animals and, of course, humans) was created.  In Part III Adam and Eve surveyed the creation and joined with the angels in praising the Creator.

The libretto, likely originally prepared for Handel, was about 50 years old when it was handed to Haydn during his second visit to England; it was amended by Gottfried van Swieten, who also prepared a German translation that preserved the prosody of the original

The male soloists were substitutes for the originally programmed Andrew Staples (tenor) and Brindley Sherratt (bass.)  Since I do not know either of them, I don’t know if it was an “upgrade” or a “downgrade.”  We have seen Relyea several times before in operas.  In Parts I and II the voices represented angels: Raphael – bass, Uriel – tenor, and Gabriel – soprano.  The bass and the soprano became Adam and Eve in Part III; Uriel had a couple of recitatives.  A member of the chorale (Erin Kemp, alto) was added to form a quartet at the end.

Our seats were reasonably close to the stage, so all the sounds came across quite well.  It didn’t start all that auspiciously, as the orchestra was a bit uneven (e.g., the upbow notes in the violins.)  That might have been an intentional way to depict chaos, although I doubt Haydn would have constructed his music that way.  The orchestra eventually settled down, and put in a good performance.  There were quite a few passage where only a few instruments (flute, clarinet, etc.) were used to accompany the singer, and those were pleasantly executed.  The continuo of cello and fortepiano also had some great moments.

The singers did a marvelous job, projecting their voices well.  They didn’t need to show a huge range of emotions as the mood of the entire oratorio is positive (we never got to Satan tempting Eve with an “apple”.)  I don’t know how much warning they had about the need for substitutes, but other than the occasional glance at the scores, there was little indication that these gentlemen were last-minute stand-ins (perhaps they weren’t.)  I did feel the tenor’s voice showed some strain towards the end; let’s hope he recovers for the second performance.

The Chorale sang the part of angels, and sang well.  The only issue I would haggle over is perhaps better diction.  We saw the same group last year, and they also had men and women in “mixed” formation; it was even more pronounced today.

The annotator (Peter Hoyt) for this program put in a succinct and clear Snapshot, but was exasperating in his main commentary.  I was close to sneering when he started to argue the music was part of the Enlightenment movement as it puts reason in a prominent position, and really shook my head when he then describes this as a likely “Counter-Enlightenment” composition that advocates the proper use of reason (to praise God.)  What’s wrong with taking words written by someone and setting it to great music?  Do we need to decipher if Haydn had a deeper message to convey, especially since we don’t/won’t know what that message is?  And is it necessary to use such big words as “inchoate” and “prosody?” (Words I stole earlier.)

I couldn’t find a review of the performance (too early,) but did see a glowing review of a performance in the 2009 Festival.  They wore white jackets then!

[Note added on 8/31: Here is the NY Times review of the concert.  The reviewer is "intrigued" by Hoyt's analysis.]

Anne and I both recall having heard The Creation in New Haven some years before, during the years we visited our daughter quite often while she was a student.  She graduated in 2005, and I couldn’t find any reference to the performance in this blog that started in April of that year – so it was at least ten years ago that we heard it.  We aren’t sure whether it was at the Yale auditorium or some other venue.  Of course I don’t remember much about that performance, but I do remember thinking that it was a complex composition at that time.  Not so today.

We spent a little time in Jersey City this afternoon, and took the PATH into the city after a quick dinner.  Today things worked well as travel in either direction took about 50 minutes.  Of course we needed to drive to and from Jersey City.

Mostly Mozart Festival Orchestra – Cristian Macelaru, conductor; Lars Vogt, piano. August 14, 2015.

Avery Fisher Hall at Lincoln Center, Orchestra (Seat O10, $40.)

Pre-Concert Recital: Jon Manasse, clarinet; Ilya Finkelshteyn, cello; Jon Nakamatsu, piano.

Clarinet Trio in A minor, Op. 114 (1891) by Brahms (1833-1897).

Program

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

Piano Concerto No. 4 in G major, Op. 58 (1804-07) by Beethoven (1770-1827).

This was our third concert in three days, and I felt surprisingly eager for it.  Anticipating traffic congestion along the way, we left a bit after 4 pm on this Friday afternoon.  And traffic was bad.  With traffic reports saying both the Lincoln Tunnel and the Westside Highway were congested, we took a detour via GW Bridge, going an extra 12 miles.  It actually worked, the trip took about 1:30 hours.  We had dinner at Amber.  It had moved to a much smaller place across the street from where it used to be.

Jon Manasse used to be the principal clarinet for the Metropolitan Opera.  Ilya Finkelshteyn is the principal cello of Cincinnati Symphony.  They both belong to the MM Festival Orchestra.  Nakamatsu was a Gold Medalist at the 1997 Van Cliburn Competition, which is no small feat.

Brahms had declared his retirement in 1890, but jumped back into music writing.  Even thought this was the first time I heard the piece, I enjoyed it.  As with much of Brahms’ chamber music work, this was on the introspective side, with elegant phrases and much give-and-take among the instruments.  I am sure with additional listenings and analysis I will enjoy the composition even more.  The four movements are Allegro, Adagio, Andante grazioso, and Allegro.

The main program is a bit on the short side, with each piece lasting about 30 minutes.  Mozart’s 39^th is in the group of three he wrote in quick succession in 1788.  We heard the 40^th a few days earlier, conducted by Louis Langree  This one certain is very different in character, much more playful after its solemn start.  It was a good performance, with the orchestra delivering crisp and energetic lines.  The movements are Adagio - Allegretto, Andante con moto, Menuetto: Allegro, and Finale: Allegro.

Beethoven’s fourth piano concerto is characterized very much by the great contrasts, with some commentators attributing it to his struggles with going deaf.  The cadenzas looked and sounded virtuosic.  This was the first time we saw Lar Vogt, a German pianist in his 40s.  He certainly proved my point that one could do great music without putting one’s nose close to the keyboard, as this was a very enjoyable performance – my only complaint is sometimes things sounded a bit muddled with too much pedaling.  Vogt looked serious during the light movements, and downright pained when the music got intense, and it got intense quite often.  After some enthusiastic applause, he (and the orchestra) played a slow movement from one of Mozart’s concertos.  The movements are Allegro moderato, Andante con moto, and Rondo: vivace.

The bio on Macelaru in the Playbill is certainly impressive, if “Sir Georg Solti Conducting Award” and “Philadelphia Orchestra Subscription” mean anything.  A check of the web indicates that Romanian-born Macelaru is in his mid-30s.  I wonder if he will break through as one of the leading conductors for his generation soon.

The New YorkTimes review characterized Vogt’s playing as “muscular,” and the reviewer heaped considerable praise on him, especially in his late evening performance of several piano sonatas (which we didn’t attend.)  Her assessment of the symphony performance was less than “hefty.”

Mahler Chamber Orchestra. Benjamin’s Written on Skin. August 13, 2015.

David H. Koch Theater at Lincoln Center.  Four Tier (Seat H107, $66.)

Story.  Agnes is married to Protector, who considers her his property.  Protector asks the Boy to make an illustrated book about the family (hence the title, since books were written on parchment then.)  Boy then begins an affair with Agnes.  When Protector finds out, he kills Boy and feeds his heart to Agnes.  Agnes commits suicide before the protector can kill her.

Conductor – Alan Gilbert.  The Protector – Christopher Purves, Agnes – Barbara Hannigan, Angel 1/Boy – Tim Mead, Angel 2/Marie – Victoria Simmonds, Angel 3/John – Robert Murray.

For reasons that are tenuous at best, this opera is part of the current Mostly Mozart Festival season.  It is presented in collaboration with the New York Philharmonic as part of the Lincoln Center-New York Philharmonic Opera Initiative, per the Playbill.  Perhaps there is a financial angle to it that I am not aware of.

Anne and I debated till the last minute if we wanted to see this opera, since that would mean driving into the city on three consecutive days. At about 2 pm in the afternoon I went to the MM website to buy the tickets, and discovered that only fourth tier seats were available.  It turns out there were quite a few empty seats in that level, so there was massive movement of people from the lower-priced seats to our neighborhood.

MM sent quite a few emails to promote this opera, so I couldn’t help but see the praise heaped onto the opera, such as Washington Post’s “the cultural event of the NY summer season.”  Well, I would call it “a cultural event,” since I assume not too many operas, especially modern ones, are being programmed in NYC during the summer months.  And, to be fair, there are some interesting aspects to this event.

First a few words about the staging.  The stage is divided into two levels.  For two of the three parts the the upper left level is a modern studio, upper right level depicts the woods, lower left is the wardrobe for the opera (modern), lower center is the main stage (bedroom, dining room, etc.) and lower right is the garden.  Not much happens in the upper and lower right portions of the stage.  Things are usually in slow motion in the upper and lower left portions.  For Part 3 a brightly lit staircase is on the right.  Not much (if any) changes between parts, so only a small pause is needed.  Sometimes people dressed in black will move the props around.

Curtain call.  Stage used in Part 3 of the opera.

All this makes for an interesting spectacle, although after a while things get a bit “old.”

The “modern” aspect of the opera is not limited to the staging and costume.  Some of the dialog refers to shopping malls and eight-lane highways.  It sounds funny, but I am not sure that’s the intended effect here.

The music is definitely different.  Of all the modern(ish) operas I have seen, the closest this comes to is that of Philip Glass’s.  Not as minimalist, but certainly the dramatic elements come and go incrementally, not suddenly (unlike Beethoven, for instance.)  As to the music itself, to me it is more like spoken dialog in a play, done with rising and lowering pitch.  When the characters sang, they often referred to themselves in the third person while narrating the action.  For example, you would have Protector singing “now the Protector is trying to put on his shoes.” (This phrase did not actually appear in the opera.)  As our seats are quite far from the stage, this technique – perhaps unwittingly – helped.

The word “chamber” in the name of the orchestra is a misnomer, because the orchestra is huge.  From the fourth tier we didn’t have a full view of the pit, but I could clearly see two rows of woodwind and brass players, and counted at least 24 of them.  However, the roster shows eight first violins and six second violins, on par with the MM Festival Orchestra.  It draws members from all over the world; for instance, only two of the fourteen listed violin players are from the US.

The sound from the orchestra was good.  Unfortunately, I used most of my bandwidth to try to follow the story and the action on stage, and thus couldn’t concentrate on the orchestra music.  The vocal singing was also good, no doubt helped by the sound system of the theater.  There was enough drama in the lines to keep the audience’s attention.  Countertenor Tim Mead sang the role of Boy, and this is one of the few instances I thought the voice worked very well.

For the last several weeks Anne and I spent a lot of time helping out with baby H, including some “night shifts” for me while the mother tried to get some rest.  When H fussed, I would pick him up and make up songs to try to calm them down; the music in this opera reminded me of that.  H’s older sister M is 2 ½ years old and talks incessantly, oftentimes offering a running commentary on what she is doing.  Not quite grasping the concept between her name “M” and the first person “I”, she would say something “M is now feeding the rabbit some soup.”  A lot of the dialog in the opera is of this nature.  Anne chuckled when I told her about these parallels.

The New YorkTimes review is positive, and contains additional information about the composition, George Benjamin and the librettist Martin Crimp.  The Washington Post review isn’t as sanguine; while the reviewer is generally positive with this opera, she also laments how low the expectations are when it comes to contemporary operas.

We couldn't see Gilbert from where we sat, but I assume he enjoyed himself given how well the orchestra sounded.  Benjamin also came out at curtain call.

Mostly Mozart Festival Orchestra – Louis Langree, conductor; Matthias Goerne, baritone. August 12, 2015.

Avery Fisher Hall at Lincoln Center, Orchestra (Seat E15, $40.)

Pre-Concert Recital: Charlie Albright, piano.

Sonata No. 14 in C-sharp minor, Op. 27, No. 2 (“Moonlight”) (1801) by Beethoven (1770-1827).

Four Etudes, Op. 25 (1835-37) by Chopin (1810-1849).

Program

Symphony No. 25 in G minor, K. 183 (1773) by Mozart (1756-1791).

Ich habe genug, Cantata WV 82 (1727) by Bach (1685-1750).

Three Songs (1815-1826) by Schubert (1797-1828).

Symphony No. 40 in G minor, K. 550 (1788) by Mozart.

We left the Boston area at around 1 pm after lunch with Joe and Jess (and baby H), and managed to get to New York a little bit after 5 pm.  There was ample parking on Columbus Avenue; we had dinner at Legend on 72^nd before going down to Avery Fisher Hall to collect our tickets, and early enough to attend the pre-concert recital.  All that was achieved by having multiple GPS systems running (the one in the car, Waze, and Anne using Google maps) and making multiple adjustments to the route along the way.

When Charlie Albright walked out, he looked familiar.  I realized that we heard him before, with BBC Concert Orchestra conducted by Keith Lockhart.  He played Ravel’s Concerto in G, which I thought was okay, attributing some of the problems to the acoustics at our seat.  Meanwhile, he added an Avery Fisher career grant to his biography.

The Moonlight sonata must be one of the most well-known pieces in the piano repertoire, and as such the listener probably has some expectations of how it should be played.  That was certainly true in my case, and Albright broke many of those conventions.  That doesn’t mean it wasn’t played well; indeed I enjoyed it a lot, although I thought some passages could be taken at a slightly faster pace.  The movements are Adagio sostenuto, Allegretto, and Presto agitato.

Chopin’s etudes are also in the standard recital repertoire.  The ones listed in the program are No. 1 in A-flat major (“Aeolian Harp”), No. 7 in C-sharp minor, No. 11 in A minor (“Winter Wind”), and No. 12 in C minor (“Ocean”).  The Program Notes has a story assigned to each of the pieces.  Before he started playing, Albright announced that to put some Mozart in Mostly Mozart, he was substituting one of the etudes with someone’s adaptation of Rondo alla Turca (didn’t get either the switched out etude - probably No. 11 - or the adaptor’s name.)  Chopin’s etudes were difficult enough, the Rondo just made my jaw drop.  He had a lot of fun playing it, and the audience showed their appreciation with very enthusiastic applause afterwards.  I was impressed, my only misgiving was he didn’t need the oftentimes exaggerated body movements – his music playing spoke loud and clear.

During the break between the recital and the main concert, Anne saw him wandering around the Green Room on the second floor by himself.  A little unexpected, given how many fans he seems to have (many of them wrote on his Facebook page in Korean.)  She got an autograph from him, only after providing him with a pen; he didn’t have any on him.

Both of Mozart’s symphonies written in the minor key were on the program tonight.  The two were written 15 years apart, with No. 25 written when the composer was 17 years old.  Yet the two bear quite a bit of similarity, one of the most noticeable being the use of syncopation.  The other would be how sunny both sounded even though they were in minor keys.  The orchestra did a good job (it’s MM Festival Orchestra, after all.)  Our seats were in the fourth row, on the far left, so if we strained to our right we had a good view of Langree conducting.  He conducted with so much energy that I wonder how he looked doing Beethoven. The movements of Symphony No. 25 are Allegro con brio, Andante, Menuetto and Trio, and Allegro.  Those of No. 40 are Molto allegro, Andante, Menuetto: Allegretto, and Allegro assai.

Sandwiched between the two symphonies were the Bach cantata and three songs by Schubert.  I knew of Ich habe genug (it is enough) from one of the Bach Festivals I went to in Bethlehem, PA, but didn’t know it was based on what Simeon said when he saw baby Jesus (Luke 2:22-32: Lord, now lettest thou thy servant depart in peace, according to thy word; for mine eyes have seen thy salvation …).  A reduced sized orchestra was used, e.g., there were five first violins instead of the usual eight.  The 20 minute cantata consists of (i) aria (Ich habe genug); (ii) recitative; (iii) aria (Schlummert ein, ihr matten Augen); (iv) recitative (Mein Gott! Wenn kommt das schone: Nun!) and (v) aria (Ich freue mich auf meinen Tod.)  It was composed in 1727 for the feast of the Purification of the Virgin Mary.

We have heard the baritone Matthias Goerne before, although I didn’t remember what he looked like (never sat this close before.)  He has a beautiful and sweet voice which I thought worked very well with this cantata, except for the low notes which didn’t come across too well.  Being in the fourth row, I could hear him very well, but wondered what he would sound like to those sitting further back.

To my relief, when he came back from intermission, Goerne raised his overall volume for the Schubert lieders against a full orchestra.  I really appreciated how he conveyed the sentiments expressed in the lyrics, as if he was reading a poem: melancholic, funny, wistful, puzzled, macabre, and unexpected.

The first song “An Silvia” was based on Shakespeare’s The Two Gentlemen of Verona, and is basically a tribute to a woman.  “Alinde,” written by Johann Friedrich Rochlitz, describes a long search for Alinda, who eventually appeared by the seeker’s side.  “Erlkonig” was written by Johann Wolfgang Goethe, it describes how a father tries to keep his son calm as he rides through the forest, pursued by Erlking, only to find the boy dead when he gets home.  Schubert wrote the pieces for voice and piano, the scores for tonight were orchestrated by Alexander Schmalcz (born 1969, An Silvia and Alinde) and Max Reger (1873-1916, Erlkonig.)  I enjoyed the orchestra music, they added a lot of "mood" to the songs.

Either the performance level has improved, or after three performances I finally found myself in a festive mood: I quite enjoyed the evening.  We bought some food from a street vendor and a couple of small cakes from Magnolia before we went home.

The New York Times review is positive.  The reviewer enjoyed both symphonies, and noted that there was a lot of Mozart in this program.  He thought Randall Ellis did an excellent job playing the oboe in the Bach cantata, I thought he was a bit weak.  The reviewer also identified the Rondo was adapted by Arcadi Volodo.

The next program we have tickets for is for Friday.  I am writing this Thursday night, after seeing the opera “Written on Skin,” which we decided on doing the last minute.  So we will have gone to three separate concerts this week.

Mostly Mozart Festival Orchestra – Cornelius Meister, conductor; Sol Gabetta, cello. August 5, 2015.

Avery Fisher Hall at Lincoln Center, Orchestra (Seat T12, $40.)

Program

Overture to Le nozze di Figaro (1786) by Mozart (1756-1791).

Cello Concerto in C major (c. 1761-65) by Haydn (1732-1809).

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

This is the second of the five MM concerts we will be attending this summer.  I am writing this a week later, so I only remember a few things about the concert.  (That’s the reason why I blog, just having written something about an event makes it stay in my memory for a long time.)

The short but delightful overture is what summer music festivals are about, as least for me.  One could sit there and simply enjoy the music; and if one is in the mood, there is a lot to learn about this particular overture, and how Mozart made it interesting (e.g., by using a 7-measure theme.)

Haydn’s cello concerto was discovered about two centuries after its composition, in a Prague museum, and was heard for the first time in May 1962.  I have some level of familiarity with Haydn’s music (mostly his string quartets,) and wouldn’t have guessed this was written by him. I wonder if musicologists did a “number” on the discovered parts, because the piece – particularly the cadenza - looked much more difficult than I thought Haydn would write.  The 25 or so minute long program has three movements: Moderato, Adagio, and Finale: Allegro molto.

It was delightfully performed.  I saw Gabetta in Hong Kong several years ago playing Dvorak’s concerto (my memory probably was helped by having written about that concert,) and thought she did an overall good job. Tonight she was great, even though the cello came across a bit weak.

She played an encore that was modern sounding, and at some point sang some notes as part of the music.  I went back to my 2011 blog entry and noticed that she did the same thing (this I didn’t remember!)  My remarks were not the kindest (“keep her day job.”) Tonight her voice sounded much better.  Of course I am not sure it’s the same piece of music.

The program concluded with Beethoven’s Fourth Symphony.  Anne and I are sure we have heard this before, but neither of us thought it sounded any familiar.  Did the orchestra butcher the performance, or are we so forgetful?  The four movements are Adagio – Allegro vivace, Adagio, Allegro vivace, and Allegro ma non troppo.

As I was watching the musicians at work, it suddenly occurred to me my prior thought that the concertmaster was too energetic compared to the rest of the section might have the problem pinned on the wrong party: perhaps the rest of the section (and may be the entire orchestra) could use some of the enthusiasm he shows at these concerts.

Cornelius Meister looks very young, and he was dressed to the nines for this debut event.  I enjoyed how he led the concert.

I was surprised to find a New York Times review on this concert.  The reviewer raved about multiple aspects, heaping considerable praise on Gabetta and Meister.  He also named the encore piece (Dolcissimo movement by Latvian composer Peteris Vasks) which was written partly at Gabetta’s request. The reviewer also said “she is, no question, a better cellist than a vocalist.”

This morning (day of concert, not of writing) we drove back to New Jersey from the Poconos after spending a couple of days with Ellie and family.  Tomorrow (day of writing) we will drive down to New York from Boston to attend our third MM concert.

Mostly Mozart Festival Orchestra – Louis Langree, conductor; Jeremy Denk, Piano. July 31, 2015.

Avery Fisher Hall at Lincoln Center, Orchestra (Seat V16, $40).

Pre-Concert Recital – Orion Weiss, Piano.

Klavierstucke, Op. 118 (1893) by Brahms (1833-1897).

Program

Chaconne in D minor for piano left hand (1720/1877) by Bach (1685-1750) (trans.Brahms).

Piano Concerto No. 20 in D minor, K.466 (1785) by Mozart (1756-1791).

Symphony No. 4 in E minor (1884-85) by Brahms.

Today’s program is more properly titled “Mostly Brahms.”  The entire program, including the pre-concert, lasted about 110 minutes.   Brahms was involved with every single work, while Mozart’s own contribution was less than 30 minutes.  In case one’s is wondering, the first movement cadenza in the Mozart concerto was by Brahms.  The annotator (Paul Schiavo) pointed out other rationale for how the program hangs together, such as the frequent use of minor keys, or how the pieces progress from one for a solo piano to piano/orchestra and finally for a full orchestra.

We heard the Chaconne piece played by Leon Fleisher in Toronto a few years back.  If I were to go back to my notes, I probably would have said something like “transcriptions from one instrument to another usually doesn’t usually work well as different instruments have different characteristics.”  Going back to my notes, I said “… it didn’t sound as good or natural compared to being played on a violin.”  If I were to make a comparison, I thought it worked much better today as the different lines were very well delineated.  Of course the percussive nature of the piano made some passages sound a bit disjoint.  It was overall quite enjoyable.

Of the many concertos Mozart wrote (close to thirty) only two are in the minor key.  Of course one can make the minor key sound sunny, and there are quite a few passages in this concerto that sounded that way.  Overall, though, it is more on the moody side, beginning with the orchestral statement at the start.

This orchestra introduction is my first encounter with the MMFO this season.  I went in with a rooting for them attitude, but was frankly disappointed.  Tentative, imprecise, uninspired were some of the adjectives that came to mind.  During the early moments when the pianist was having an ongoing dialog with the orchestra, I actually felt bad for the pianist as he tried to take the performance to a higher level.

The good news is that eventually he did.  Denk put in a well-structured and dynamic presentation.  Aided by the Program Notes, I rode along the ups and downs expressed by the composer and eventually let the music carry me along.

Denk played an encore that I would have guessed Bach as the lines were clear and the harmony traditional, except for the many rubatos.  Anne overheard someone saying it might have been composed by Faure.  Let’s just say one of us is very off.  In any case, I like Denk’s playing.  The Playbill writeup on him said he had performed with the New York Philharmonic before, but this was the first time I heard/heard of him.

I am quite familiar with the Brahms symphony, so have in my mind a “proper” way to deliver it.  Tonight I needed to make quite a bit of adjustments, including how small the orchestra is for such a big hall, but overall enjoyed it.  I was surprised how unfamiliar the fourth movement sounded, and attributed that to my always falling asleep after three movements.

The pre-concert was an intimate piece by Brahms (Intermezzo in A minor, Intermezzo in A major, Ballade in G minor, Intermezzo in F minor, Romanze in F major, and Intermesso in E-flat minor.)  The appreciation of the piece was greatly helped by the notes in the Program.

On the way home, we put on the Mozart concerto, performed by Malcolm Bilson on period instruments.  It sounded downright sunny.

We spent most of July in the Boston area.  We left Boston at around 10:30 am this morning and got to the Lincoln Center area around 4:30 pm, managing to find off-street free parking on a Friday afternoon.  We had time for coffee and a simple dinner before heading to the pre-concert.  The box office had some problem with locating my “will-call” ticket (misfiled, they said,) but things got squared away eventually.  Attendance was quite good (third tier was closed off,) but I wonder how many got discounted tickets like I did.

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.