tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-91948094356708098382024-03-18T02:47:54.529-07:00LA OpusA Southern California voice for classical music and live artsRodney Punthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14125235785295217694noreply@blogger.comBlogger747125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9194809435670809838.post-36640383520713189512024-03-17T14:11:00.000-07:002024-03-17T22:13:51.402-07:00A Celebration of Strings to Open Mason House Season<br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOEv8KkPL_rxqQ1Ad9dhTmjxvjBZVZ0WUhBjurD6gq-XmYdMhgGRUrD9YdD6Veod8q7EJ3QK2ZpgeOdsUm2n-igS8gIbuv7THwdu7ulkEJGgeMwjOSZei6fG-3JbQrxDaudX5gDK2_YbD3bvJUzK7w1H6a-5o-k-s6XwxJ3YAQCl8zWxyzvvSpnl-Wefo/s4032/IMG_0124.jpeg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="390" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOEv8KkPL_rxqQ1Ad9dhTmjxvjBZVZ0WUhBjurD6gq-XmYdMhgGRUrD9YdD6Veod8q7EJ3QK2ZpgeOdsUm2n-igS8gIbuv7THwdu7ulkEJGgeMwjOSZei6fG-3JbQrxDaudX5gDK2_YbD3bvJUzK7w1H6a-5o-k-s6XwxJ3YAQCl8zWxyzvvSpnl-Wefo/w640-h480/IMG_0124.jpeg" width="520" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">l-r: Ambroise Aubrun, Cécilia Tsan, Kate Hamilton.</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><div>REVIEW</div><div><br /></div><div>Aubrun, Hamilton, and Tsan play eight works by seven composers at Mason House</div><div>JOHN STODDER</div><div><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">Mason House in West LA started its <a href="https://masonconcerts.org/">2024 season</a> with a concert featuring two of the series’ most familiar and cherished performers, violinist <a href="https://www.ambroiseaubrun.com/">Ambroise Aubrun</a> and cellist <a href="https://www.ceciliatsan.com/">Cécilia Tsan</a>. They are locally-based but global-class musicians, and there is really no reason ever to skip a concert that either is playing in. Here, however, they were joined by a violist new to Mason House, <a href="https://www.unlv.edu/people/kate-hamilton">Kate Hamilton</a>, also well-traveled and vastly experienced. Based on these performances, she shares Tsan and Aubrun’s marvelous ear for mixing and matching string tones.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">Hamilton and Aubrun also perform and tour as <a href="https://www.duonovae.com/">Duo Novae</a>, and together they played all five short pieces that took up the first half, among them host Todd Mason’s <i>Duo for Violin and Viola</i>. After intermission, Tsan joined Aubrun to play Bach, and then all three as a trio gave us the show’s two main courses, the one-movement Schubert <i>String Trio in B-flat major D. 471</i>, and the world premiere of Mason’s <i>String Trio</i>. </div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglORYdaamZnSYoKe_cYcOrO9NjqZ2thVw1HVTSLUB0fnyH8j9lrrHnwQryXB6ndrVy9dlTCbYBPTZuaYYlJdAZkpQyjhvYpDEhRRNRLIoLU8ftKSrKWINazMZ_RI7lACg-RQ3pBcLGqm2XkWBALJXdSF_U0J0R_6226Aji6vnJCDvP9TF137RNajt3oWE/s4032/IMG_0125.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="390" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglORYdaamZnSYoKe_cYcOrO9NjqZ2thVw1HVTSLUB0fnyH8j9lrrHnwQryXB6ndrVy9dlTCbYBPTZuaYYlJdAZkpQyjhvYpDEhRRNRLIoLU8ftKSrKWINazMZ_RI7lACg-RQ3pBcLGqm2XkWBALJXdSF_U0J0R_6226Aji6vnJCDvP9TF137RNajt3oWE/w640-h480/IMG_0125.jpeg" width="520" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifiPPIcw3dzPBv-nfQlY_CKFUNacEc3AN5V-5eTV2NnG3c1IuUCX9_vJlAv4rouM6ekvX_Gf5ijLV4Ln_Oxsqp3ZKTBsM51g3rfA7NEpvJ-wlLMafoi3JwP_GKH14LgbHqAxn6yS90FOoXnfmmiZK3eOwHZCYKhxnmISEaro1-bP9JwLk4UZ6DAcxCeJo/s885/Me.png" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="885" data-original-width="832" height="156" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifiPPIcw3dzPBv-nfQlY_CKFUNacEc3AN5V-5eTV2NnG3c1IuUCX9_vJlAv4rouM6ekvX_Gf5ijLV4Ln_Oxsqp3ZKTBsM51g3rfA7NEpvJ-wlLMafoi3JwP_GKH14LgbHqAxn6yS90FOoXnfmmiZK3eOwHZCYKhxnmISEaro1-bP9JwLk4UZ6DAcxCeJo/w188-h200/Me.png" width="147" /></a></div>Opening his pre-concert talk, LA Opus’ David Brown (<i>right</i>) said that Todd had challenged him to “<i>find a common thread"</i> among the seven composers and eight compositions featured in the concert, and the challenge led him on a fascinating sweep through eras of Western classical music history, from J. S. Bach’s time to the present day. Taking the composers chronologically rather than in performance order, we learned: </div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><i>… that the much-loved Bach </i>Concerto for Two Violins in D minor, BWV 1043,<i> has been arranged in at least 56 different ways from Bach’s original for two violins, strings and continuo (and not including the one we were to hear today)….</i></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><i><br /></i></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><i>… about where in Franz Schubert’s brief and chaotic timeline he found time to compose (but not finish) this particular trio (when he was 19 and had just moved out of his “crowded and oppressive” family home, personal turmoil not betrayed by the calm, civilized discourse of the piece itself)…</i></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><i><br /></i></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><i>.. that Robert Fuchs (1847-1927), now obscure as a composer, was a professor at the Vienna Conservatory who taught some of the most celebrated 20th century composers, including Enescu, Korngold, Mahler, Wolf, and Sibelius...</i></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><i><br /></i></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><i>… that the Norwegian Johan Halvorsen (1864-1935), whose piece was to close the first half, is also a rather neglected composer now, but in his lifetime was a celebrated violinist and conductor: his output included three symphonies… </i></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><i><br /></i></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><i>… that Jean Sibelius (1865-1957) was incredibly prolific: when the Swedish company BIS took on the challenge of <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=q0bhAQ8yhRc">recording his entire output</a>, it ran to 75 CDs’ worth, of which 11 were devoted to chamber works that are mostly unknown, including what we were to hear today…</i></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><i><br /></i></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><i>… and that the inexhaustible 20th century Polish modernist Krzysztof Penderecki (1933-2020), known for music so jarring that it regularly winds up in horror films like </i>The Exorcist <i>and </i>The Shining<i>, turned toward a more tonal and romantic style in the late 1970s and continued to compose well into the 2010s.</i></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBy1MbNlBiVSlQv7KUqpG3TRHSPiPHb0R91x8r1JEfBmsbeqUW5eZXuTL3yosTqfk5QcRvcAOQjoWTqFIorguocIxLokLTQXvwhzLGemWw6lv6QZdtWoZSE0JqKRwrfjKFmZjpN_3y8y6aFUriH-WbYqrxGVcEPtlSJfTksjtJ8aLcCBj95QLRWvWPzi0/s1170/Todd%20Mason.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1170" data-original-width="1080" height="160" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBy1MbNlBiVSlQv7KUqpG3TRHSPiPHb0R91x8r1JEfBmsbeqUW5eZXuTL3yosTqfk5QcRvcAOQjoWTqFIorguocIxLokLTQXvwhzLGemWw6lv6QZdtWoZSE0JqKRwrfjKFmZjpN_3y8y6aFUriH-WbYqrxGVcEPtlSJfTksjtJ8aLcCBj95QLRWvWPzi0/w184-h200/Todd%20Mason.jpg" width="147" /></a></div>Finally, we learned from Todd Mason (<i>left</i>)—speaking for himself as the only living composer on the program—that the <i>Duo</i> had been commissioned by Duo Novae, and that the <i>Trio</i> was written because his concert series has acquainted him with so many great string players.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">This bounty of information foreshadowed a bounty of music and of styles, specifically the styles and techniques a violinist, a violist, and a cellist use to perform a wide range of compositions.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjt-CNhu8HxStLLLCGABx1EVyMrVHCUFO5bqZ3DRMLJ4xmBVTKEG5X6RM-XtZaFFEmzMs9vHM1HC7akNqRauOMWShxcrAa9Qg3lRLvxTPvDMBCXg2BELMG0DgL58oTj-ZwFBZRd0HrJJ6txzuo-Lnb5Qcn2VTirOJVZ_c6uvQCJY1b-MuhbaPkVQW-2mi4/s1170/Sibelius_1891_(cropped).jpeg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1170" data-original-width="814" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjt-CNhu8HxStLLLCGABx1EVyMrVHCUFO5bqZ3DRMLJ4xmBVTKEG5X6RM-XtZaFFEmzMs9vHM1HC7akNqRauOMWShxcrAa9Qg3lRLvxTPvDMBCXg2BELMG0DgL58oTj-ZwFBZRd0HrJJ6txzuo-Lnb5Qcn2VTirOJVZ_c6uvQCJY1b-MuhbaPkVQW-2mi4/w139-h200/Sibelius_1891_(cropped).jpeg" width="139" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Sibelius, c.1891.</td></tr></tbody></table>Each of the first six pieces lasted less than eight minutes, and the jumping between eras and style reminded me of when I played in student recitals during high school and college. In a recital, the pieces program themselves, and that was sort of true for this concert—if there was a common thread, it was the love by composers of string musicians, and the myriad ways players can serve composers’ artistic needs.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">The first item was Sibelius’ <i>Duo in C Major for Violin and Viola, JS 66</i> (1891), and its opening highlighted Aubrun’s violin singing plaintively over a steady, soft, liquid beat of arpeggios on Hamilton’s viola; as if he were walking alongside a river singing his song.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrwgVJ6OdtI_cREzgbJAEiINubJCZUk0zkGKpW5Lvnjq3YgIHjKUk-QuE6-ZZl1O-zf6OjVZOOtC9U0uaGkhk_Hd-e3UBQiUbT5Mvk6ChwOzFTD-ysG0Xddfk9AvBhHmAotjXyY0Ui5yM3Rh2Oa3N2ccZFHDqyBpeb_TurOqIZNa1R97d9-fex2G9Nkrc/s2448/Penderecki%202008.jpeg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2448" data-original-width="1632" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrwgVJ6OdtI_cREzgbJAEiINubJCZUk0zkGKpW5Lvnjq3YgIHjKUk-QuE6-ZZl1O-zf6OjVZOOtC9U0uaGkhk_Hd-e3UBQiUbT5Mvk6ChwOzFTD-ysG0Xddfk9AvBhHmAotjXyY0Ui5yM3Rh2Oa3N2ccZFHDqyBpeb_TurOqIZNa1R97d9-fex2G9Nkrc/w133-h200/Penderecki%202008.jpeg" width="133" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Penderecki, 2008.</td></tr></tbody></table>Penderecki’s <i>Ciaccona for Violin & Viola</i> (2005) came next. Originally written in memory of Pope John Paul II, the Polish pope who died that year, it was later incorporated into the composer’s <i>Polish Requiem</i>. It vividly presented the violin as a conveyor of grief and yearning. Hamilton provided support in the form of murmurs, whispers, and gentle reminders. It was hard to listen to this piece and not visualize two grieving souls, working through loss together.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><i>Nos 3, 4, 8</i> and <i>12</i> from Fuchs’ <i>12 Duos for Violin and Viola Op. 60</i> (1898) felt the most like what one would expect to hear at a recital—clever studies to showcase techniques and the qualities of each instrument. Of the four pieces, the third (<i>#8</i> if you’re keeping score) intrigued me the most, as it gave Aubrun yet another opportunity to showcase his beautiful tone. Hamilton’s unerring rhythmic framing propelled the final, charming, <i>#12</i>.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQWzifSowbugjYOi8u4T6iUuGl9KRk9u9FwMd4DW_1G2Q96B14OfKcVoYKz_KC9njTAlU59afQCl5SKMJWJE7TIzcGMFxI27f5-wI3Qy9N0G9_wQykAspSAV4W40K6Gd9qX0oLWN0dzPgDe5w2NOZGSMAxUWx3wCzdtCQ2Pg-Iv6THonJf255FpLYSSPI/s947/Fuchs.jpeg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="947" data-original-width="818" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQWzifSowbugjYOi8u4T6iUuGl9KRk9u9FwMd4DW_1G2Q96B14OfKcVoYKz_KC9njTAlU59afQCl5SKMJWJE7TIzcGMFxI27f5-wI3Qy9N0G9_wQykAspSAV4W40K6Gd9qX0oLWN0dzPgDe5w2NOZGSMAxUWx3wCzdtCQ2Pg-Iv6THonJf255FpLYSSPI/w173-h200/Fuchs.jpeg" width="173" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Robert Fuchs.</td></tr></tbody></table>Mason’s <i>Duo</i> was next. Although this concert was its LA debut, the <i>Duo</i> is already popular and has been included in concerts around the US, which is appropriate, because the piece feels a bit like a travelogue. Mason gave Hamilton her best opportunity up until this point in the concert to show off her gorgeous tone, her “<i>liquid gold</i>” as one reviewer put it.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">But this piece was also ready to confront the listener, as one of its shifting moods. It felt dissonant with a purpose—to wake up the listener. And it’s also a showcase for two virtuosos, and it makes perfect sense that violinists and violists around the country have been excited to play it.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTbkzg5Xd88JsD2mV-figVo1LNsytvn4vE88oFh5eeGlPMfCjddCSEdCyXfW2a8gUD9jrzGFa8b2oP-Zdc4qvZPoHyE4JVUCQJ1HWuesTq7aE3MHMWutCqGNFAH2aHQGoDci7DbP29BKRMm8D5is6UF0fZWf37ApTXaypSVxZiSGfkWkEf3vaeKprBz9Y/s295/Halvorsen_part.jpeg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="295" data-original-width="258" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTbkzg5Xd88JsD2mV-figVo1LNsytvn4vE88oFh5eeGlPMfCjddCSEdCyXfW2a8gUD9jrzGFa8b2oP-Zdc4qvZPoHyE4JVUCQJ1HWuesTq7aE3MHMWutCqGNFAH2aHQGoDci7DbP29BKRMm8D5is6UF0fZWf37ApTXaypSVxZiSGfkWkEf3vaeKprBz9Y/w175-h200/Halvorsen_part.jpeg" width="175" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Johan Halvorsen.</td></tr></tbody></table>Halvorsen’s <i>Sarabande with Variations</i> (1897) was almost jarringly familiar after these unfamiliar explorations. The piece is based on a theme by Handel—the one that haunts Stanley Kubrick’s masterful <i>Barry Lyndon</i>. After immersing us in the languor of the dirge-like theme, in the ensuing 11 variations Halvorson creates a maze of challenging virtuoso moments that Aubrun and Hamilton navigated with style and skill.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">With the Bach that opened the second half of the program, I was again reminded of the period of my life attending and playing in recitals. The three movements of the “Bach double,” as everyone called it, were each perfect showcases for strings fast and slow, joyous and sedate. Aubrun and Tsan played only the central <i>Largo,</i> which includes one of Bach’s most beautiful melodic lines.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQD265fgiKFFOu_j6tSJlhlm5TJhVXqo6oCTmm0BmI7Gk3bOdS_F8AzEmAnTWJObqxDoaFOFP-FXYuQK4FVGbNZSBqnXyKmGZn5Hiq9uugDDAl_vLcIOHGWCu9uu5jVt8ntJRdiu5icfLvB6p4IDw8a3h6EfTTYgtK8sbPFqTAdYulDUEtHkT-u1RtWYo/s1309/Cicely%20Parnas.jpg" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="998" data-original-width="1309" height="153" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQD265fgiKFFOu_j6tSJlhlm5TJhVXqo6oCTmm0BmI7Gk3bOdS_F8AzEmAnTWJObqxDoaFOFP-FXYuQK4FVGbNZSBqnXyKmGZn5Hiq9uugDDAl_vLcIOHGWCu9uu5jVt8ntJRdiu5icfLvB6p4IDw8a3h6EfTTYgtK8sbPFqTAdYulDUEtHkT-u1RtWYo/w200-h153/Cicely%20Parnas.jpg" width="200" /></a></div>It was interesting to hear this highly familiar piece played by a spare ensemble of two voices from different parts of the scale, in this new arrangement for violin and cello by cellist Cicely Parnas (<i>right)</i>. The contrasts between their instruments illuminated different qualities of Bach’s writing. This movement can have a hypnotic, even soporific effect, but heard this way it seemed more formal and abstract, allowing us to hear the voices more independently. The word in my notes for this performance was “painterly,” meaning I could hear the brushstrokes. It made something old hat sound new.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjiA097m0dAIgj2rqsDzoB2NKxg_vwpCnSOXL5hWe1JTqY3zOpzPdbG2Kkg8KjOIOflxNFAAPujTUf5FHO5HUD8ROAiuvmiFmUuFhaqBQoaOVUEshUGhljuPxQI5u7AvLfhcJyUpIBDSyzJmo15v0EAAnYmv4UMPkBZJFfwUcTzxmrBQNK9wTEwf5x9nGs/s890/Schubert-Klimt%20close.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="890" data-original-width="748" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjiA097m0dAIgj2rqsDzoB2NKxg_vwpCnSOXL5hWe1JTqY3zOpzPdbG2Kkg8KjOIOflxNFAAPujTUf5FHO5HUD8ROAiuvmiFmUuFhaqBQoaOVUEshUGhljuPxQI5u7AvLfhcJyUpIBDSyzJmo15v0EAAnYmv4UMPkBZJFfwUcTzxmrBQNK9wTEwf5x9nGs/w168-h200/Schubert-Klimt%20close.jpg" width="168" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Schubert, by Klimt.</td></tr></tbody></table>After the Bach, all three musicians took to the Mason House stage to conclude the concert. Schubert’s <i>Trio in B-flat</i> was completely satisfying as a kind of midpoint between Classical charm and craft and the more passionate feelings and images that early Romanticism evokes.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">Aubrun again amazed me here, but with a different skill—his ability to pull back, to shave a little bit from the bright, singing tone he used to help fill the room during the duos, and make more space for music in which the spotlight was intended to be shared equally.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">That quality of musicians listening to one another and making intuitive small adjustments was most in evidence in the Schubert. Being able to perceive this interplay is one of the key pleasures of hearing chamber music in the small performance space of Mason House.
As the Schubert wound down, Aubrun, Hamilton, and Tsan played ever more quietly, leaving each moment that much more exposed, until finally ending in unison, on a downbeat so soft it sounded like a breath.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCKlwQ38iq8eCfkB6Up5inuiyJADOpL9532uQwLOYv56dJ_B9by6mGmKyukiSfOX74zOaSUIt6fFRV60ZircRWOzA1-hBoaznFEqHSR-4AzbyvkMfc90cgs5dtUqJ-UEBRFxdUnjaqAQARgn_Xi-lduO4NdLxjg5zEoMAHi_xu3YpdB9RM_2uRo06lZXU/s2400/Mason%20String%20Trio.jpg" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2400" data-original-width="1800" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCKlwQ38iq8eCfkB6Up5inuiyJADOpL9532uQwLOYv56dJ_B9by6mGmKyukiSfOX74zOaSUIt6fFRV60ZircRWOzA1-hBoaznFEqHSR-4AzbyvkMfc90cgs5dtUqJ-UEBRFxdUnjaqAQARgn_Xi-lduO4NdLxjg5zEoMAHi_xu3YpdB9RM_2uRo06lZXU/s320/Mason%20String%20Trio.jpg" width="240" /></a></div>After receiving grateful applause, they returned to take us on another journey entirely in Todd Mason’s <i>String Trio</i>, an acute reflection of the anxieties of now, which began harshly and spun into a kind of chase scene, each instrument running to a rhythmic pattern of 16th notes, making brief sonic gestures, two or three notes, before rejoining the unsettling, unpredictable flow.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">Then, as if finding each other in a safe place, the running stops, and lyrical passages begin, led mostly by Aubrun, wailing laments gradually coming under control, allowing the three voices to come alive together and achieve a kind of peace and clarity. Then, with about a minute to go in this 11-minute piece, the slashing and running resumed but with a slightly different orientation—excited, almost giddy, accelerating toward what sounded like home.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">Altogether this program was quite a workout for Aubrun, Hamilton and Tsan, packed with music that stretched their talents in so many directions, both artistically and technically. Nonetheless, these musicians proved to be the perfect vessels for the artistry of composers from the 18th to the 21st centuries. </div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjoTqtv4Zc9_KrEEFuboQQxKarMwXk9Nnzg0f-xrv2QFT_RStK91UXxPbqYmbfjQyX3THRPOOcemSvpg3XtHnb9R2ac8Zz5en7VHuwDnE6ywfvohaHyn5cE94kyVrr4ibCysNl4h23RARv7ftxdSS3gRvosVqunycPvH5Xmx89oX_7lv0JDwE0_Ddr5gwQ/s3101/AmbroiseGroup.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2631" data-original-width="3101" height="339" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjoTqtv4Zc9_KrEEFuboQQxKarMwXk9Nnzg0f-xrv2QFT_RStK91UXxPbqYmbfjQyX3THRPOOcemSvpg3XtHnb9R2ac8Zz5en7VHuwDnE6ywfvohaHyn5cE94kyVrr4ibCysNl4h23RARv7ftxdSS3gRvosVqunycPvH5Xmx89oX_7lv0JDwE0_Ddr5gwQ/w400-h339/AmbroiseGroup.jpeg" width="400" /></a></div><br /><div style="text-align: center;">---ooo---</div><div><br /></div><div>Mason House Concert, 3484 Redwood Ave., Mar Vista, CA 90066, 6:00 p.m., Saturday, January 20, 2024. </div><div>Images: The performance: Todd Mason; Sibelius, Penderecki, Fuchs, Halvorsen, Schubert: Wikimedia Commons; Cicely Parnas: artist website.
</div>David J Brownhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08224977724583670873noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9194809435670809838.post-11941171562448248392024-03-13T16:54:00.000-07:002024-03-14T09:06:43.021-07:00Supplication, Serenade, and Cosmogony at Long Beach<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJgzCQBGD_Lzz91DSgTwaz9wL7VtIjNypYea_qyhLMnPRddNBEWB-zFapvIPzNiiKjVlQuYpSKVpLJ_Lk6RI6TtrbTTGofKkIMrC6H1zp80YCoHr8RhEJlYVikzoSEk0M-Pioz1-1mEcmnuknzqoBrjNWRNPsdDLNeLQIjN2HUykU0nmQyNO17lNtFsAY/s3836/German%20requiem%20cropped.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2529" data-original-width="3836" height="343" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJgzCQBGD_Lzz91DSgTwaz9wL7VtIjNypYea_qyhLMnPRddNBEWB-zFapvIPzNiiKjVlQuYpSKVpLJ_Lk6RI6TtrbTTGofKkIMrC6H1zp80YCoHr8RhEJlYVikzoSEk0M-Pioz1-1mEcmnuknzqoBrjNWRNPsdDLNeLQIjN2HUykU0nmQyNO17lNtFsAY/w640-h422/German%20requiem%20cropped.JPG" width="520" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Long Beach Camerata Singers and UCLA Chamber Singers, with soloists Elissa Johnston <br />and Kevin Deas, perform Brahms’ <i>Ein deutsches Requiem</i>, with the LBSO under Music <br />Director Eckart Preu.</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><div>REVIEW</div><div><br /></div><div>Long Beach Symphony, Terrace Theater, Beverly O'Neill Performing Arts Center, Long Beach</div><div>DAVID J BROWN</div><div><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">Some politicians are prone to saying that their attitudes to certain issues have “evolved”—and that does sum up my feelings toward Brahms’ <i>Ein deutsches Requiem, Op. 45</i>. Time was when its lack of the Verdi <i>Requiem</i>'s operatic flamboyance and intensity, or Berlioz’s apocalyptic grandeur and extraordinary orchestral innovation, were minus points: perhaps as a hangover from first getting to know it via now-forgotten and less-than-ideal performances, there seemed always the threat that this choral <i>magnum opus</i> of Brahms’ earlier years could turn out simply dull.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTNy6V7C28gTqSBccGGGQF077eboBiGy3poLQAn3Ajwnkq7ZyTLNu8sSve4-CKvfPu3jUQka7mQhLYgOdSLVeCfzmu_dveiarnrgGtIqW1wBIfrqxYkzrtGD0LrO_T6ZclLYNNF4qbyf9gxNSiMB1DWHKNFki5ROzlML80o-oPkem8movRgbgijp-xue8/s594/Eckart.jpg" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="594" data-original-width="386" height="262" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTNy6V7C28gTqSBccGGGQF077eboBiGy3poLQAn3Ajwnkq7ZyTLNu8sSve4-CKvfPu3jUQka7mQhLYgOdSLVeCfzmu_dveiarnrgGtIqW1wBIfrqxYkzrtGD0LrO_T6ZclLYNNF4qbyf9gxNSiMB1DWHKNFki5ROzlML80o-oPkem8movRgbgijp-xue8/w130-h200/Eckart.jpg" width="170" /></a></div><div style="text-align: justify;">But comparisons are indeed odious, and last Saturday’s performance of the <i>Requiem</i> by the Long Beach Symphony, Long Beach Camerata Singers, UCLA Chamber Singers, and soloists <a href="https://lamasterchorale.org/artist-details/11713/elissa-johnston">Elissa Johnston</a> and <a href="https://www.dispeker.com/kevin-deas">Kevin Deas</a>, all under the baton of LBSO Music Director Eckart Preu (<i>right</i>), was the perfect storm to blow away any last tatters of such a view: a cogent, lovingly-shaped account, clocking in at a trim 65 minutes or thereabouts, sung with skill, commitment, and palpable joy by the choirs, and underpinned by and clothed in orchestral playing of depth, sensitivity and poise.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">By omitting the <i>Requiem</i>’s <i>ad lib</i> organ part, and with it any “churchy” connotations, Maestro Preu nailed his colors to the mast that this is essentially a humanistic rather than a narrowly religious work—a view that had been adumbrated in his rewarding pre-concert conversation with Dr. James Bass (<i>below, left)</i>, Artistic Director of the Camerata Singers, and Mr. Deas.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiIZTkzK-c4S5FbFd1e6Ose4fqEnpeYsKkYqqL1O50cnMwYhy9mHLxLrSoFbQvgxs4-pRWCbB3l-xHe1iIKP1RHqoY6a2OyPid8LnSEP7cj960oJ5C6UUisESV-kMHhmjZfwpSPQ35QVmhqxsB-sOYRxrfDcbckg4Y4siWHhpej_24XY8kMjM1o5irilYY/s653/james-bass-e1705007009888.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="653" data-original-width="521" height="170" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiIZTkzK-c4S5FbFd1e6Ose4fqEnpeYsKkYqqL1O50cnMwYhy9mHLxLrSoFbQvgxs4-pRWCbB3l-xHe1iIKP1RHqoY6a2OyPid8LnSEP7cj960oJ5C6UUisESV-kMHhmjZfwpSPQ35QVmhqxsB-sOYRxrfDcbckg4Y4siWHhpej_24XY8kMjM1o5irilYY/w159-h200/james-bass-e1705007009888.jpg" width="135" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td></tr></tbody></table>The removal of that sepulchral rumble aerated Brahms’ textures in the lower register of the orchestra and exposed fascinating details often obscured. At the very opening, marked <i>Ziemlich langsam und mit Ausdruck</i> (Rather slow and with expression) one could hear far more clearly than usual the two low horns an octave apart: an arresting sound, at once ominous but somehow vulnerable. Again, at the beginning of the third movement, they perfectly complemented Mr. Deas’s oaken tones as he began his first big solo.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi51F89ui0P_OTytorIlqSL7AWTb44JIUxxi3jSt-K1Tj1zQ7eq1xBTZWK0mC40enYHYF_sn7LK7wH87ldeVNdfZYKLFJYC5hxws_3tgiMLSHz7fmImplw150vCYZWnzTGVmtsdgwC6zSU4QpQJ8fntjLwAhP3zzPlXVfhl13ETLXPOYDuK91DhwH9-vlc/s1000/Brahms%201868.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1000" data-original-width="627" height="374" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi51F89ui0P_OTytorIlqSL7AWTb44JIUxxi3jSt-K1Tj1zQ7eq1xBTZWK0mC40enYHYF_sn7LK7wH87ldeVNdfZYKLFJYC5hxws_3tgiMLSHz7fmImplw150vCYZWnzTGVmtsdgwC6zSU4QpQJ8fntjLwAhP3zzPlXVfhl13ETLXPOYDuK91DhwH9-vlc/s320/Brahms%201868.jpg" width="235" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Brahms in 1868, the year he completed <br />the <i>German Requiem.</i></td></tr></tbody></table>Brahms began composing the <i>Requiem</i> in the wake of his mother’s death early in 1865, and it’s often been opined that in it he also memorialized his mentor and friend Robert Schumann. The work’s growth was spasmodic and protracted: movements I, II and IV were written by the end of April 1865, but the remainder of what was conceived as a six-movement whole was not completed until August 1866. This had its premiere, to considerable acclaim, in Bremen Cathedral on Good Friday, 1868, but within a month Brahms had added a seventh movement, to be inserted between the existing IV and V.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">For his texts Brahms did not use the traditional Roman Catholic Requiem Mass, instead selecting verses in the Old and New Testaments and Apocrypha from the Lutheran Bible, and in so doing side-stepped anything overtly doctrinal. Rather than redemption through Christ’s sacrifice, or condemnation for unbelievers (no <i>Dies Irae</i> here), the message is comfort for the mourning, acknowledgment of the transience of life, and a measure of aspiration for something after death.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxXf-A3n0gK3g0kPIyyq9qsl5W54-9eKOFiQTn4idKB_G0b5af_oo53BOUGqGWEruXFu5fti81Qg9sa8b1v2xut0Y5lmTaKDTP0Lsf5AQpfDN2LV6t6Se1PDDxXhek3JG9ZzNiSxcoKUYX5BH3CCnwkJRxeMRX33z6XJ8nhEBHNdmrUZz9SQpdD_lb_Zg/s725/Kevin_Deas_web_03.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="725" data-original-width="629" height="172" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxXf-A3n0gK3g0kPIyyq9qsl5W54-9eKOFiQTn4idKB_G0b5af_oo53BOUGqGWEruXFu5fti81Qg9sa8b1v2xut0Y5lmTaKDTP0Lsf5AQpfDN2LV6t6Se1PDDxXhek3JG9ZzNiSxcoKUYX5BH3CCnwkJRxeMRX33z6XJ8nhEBHNdmrUZz9SQpdD_lb_Zg/w174-h200/Kevin_Deas_web_03.jpg" width="150" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Kevin Deas.</td></tr></tbody></table>Musically, Brahms embraces the richest and widest of contrasts, from gentle consolation to implacable fortitude to exuberant hope—the latter expressed in propulsive contrapuntal and fugal writing for the chorus, especially in movements II, III, and VI. The massed Long Beach forces excelled in all of this, perhaps most notably in II, which was propelled from the solemn funeral march of <i>Denn alles Fleisch es ist wie Gras</i> (For all flesh is as grass) into the fugal <i>Allegro non troppo</i> at <i>Die Erlöseten des Herrn werden wieder kommen</i> (And the ransomed of the Lord shall return) with a galvanic sense of accumulated tension being released.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGvoqu3hjQCMxxyv7SHKTbzjzoY_yJ9N4K3IZysrxVabMHT-1846OUaJlfv7U0DwORJuc3jZiaJcDxScApoViH0zsnndDirc2ySlMLWqCogDqZo9rEwcb6L0281cwnrXMPpGqe9v1fKIhMW7cKn_I1JTFyRovTIlUM9_bu4YJAXwENuDopn4TmxHIkars/s1538/Elissa%20Johnston.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1538" data-original-width="1319" height="175" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGvoqu3hjQCMxxyv7SHKTbzjzoY_yJ9N4K3IZysrxVabMHT-1846OUaJlfv7U0DwORJuc3jZiaJcDxScApoViH0zsnndDirc2ySlMLWqCogDqZo9rEwcb6L0281cwnrXMPpGqe9v1fKIhMW7cKn_I1JTFyRovTIlUM9_bu4YJAXwENuDopn4TmxHIkars/w171-h200/Elissa%20Johnston.jpg" width="150" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Elissa Johnston.</td></tr></tbody></table>The baritone soloist only appears in movements III and VI, while the soprano has even less to do: nonetheless Ms. Johnston duly seized her moment in movement V, exquisitely floating the solo line from the opening <i>Ihr habt nun Traurigkeit</i> (And ye now therefore have sorrow) onward, while Mr. Deas was as sonorously reflective as could be desired in his two movements. Given the uniqueness of the <i>German Requiem</i>’s text and Brahms’ response to it, one’s only regret about the performance was that the words were neither projected as supertitles nor printed in or enclosed with the program book.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">Brahms’ <i>Requiem</i>, unlike the Verdi, Berlioz or Dvořák, is a little too short to fill a whole concert but—as with the <i>Requiems</i> of such varied composers as Donizetti, Stanford, and Arnold Rosner—only requires an additional 25-30 minutes of programming to make up the full evening. The latter half of Maestro Preu’s imaginative solution was to turn to another composer who was a past master at cherry-picking texts from many sources to suit his expressive purposes, Ralph Vaughan Williams.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><span style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><a href="https://rvwsociety.com/albionrecords/"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1200" height="260" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgda9DRCkOiN5H7QYmgjWhyphenhyphenb2w_l7vdg4Gn8OS201BV-0Q8T_PHY1eUo8xTlb1-B9mYg7hMqzlSHq-rSF1v8urLpKgQ6hYLpMN1j1PAMaN2MW81WkAnO75c4MoO9yl4hILyu99-XB5mWLsOcwcYjSVUnxN0N17gj-RiNriwfAOpxtw9NJF8s3gX46n42i8/s320/Serenade%20disc%20cover.jpeg" width="260" /></a></span></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://rvwsociety.com/albionrecords/">Ralph Vaughan Williams (<i>center, back row</i>) and <br />Sir Henry Wood (<i>center, front row</i>) with the <br /><i>Serenade to Music</i>’s 16 original singers. Their<br />recording was recently remastered, together <br />with solo performances by each of the singers.</a></td></tr></tbody></table>However, unlike his large-scale choral works <i>Sancta Civitas</i> and <i>Dona Nobis Pacem</i>, for the <i>Serenade to Music</i>, composed by Vaughan Williams in 1938 to mark the 50th anniversary of conductor Sir Henry Wood's first concert, the composer chose a single text, from William Shakespeare, and set Lorenzo’s speech to Jessica in praise of music from Act V, Scene 1, of <i>The Merchant of Venice</i> for 16 celebrated singers of the day (<i>right</i>).</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">After 32 measures of orchestral introduction the singers come together as a chorus for the first four lines, but thereafter enter sequentially as soloists, singing one or two lines each, and only again together in four brief instances. The total effect is of magical intimacy and a rare perfect match between text and music.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjF_OmMP5Xd-UMs-ko7gYWbx1x79JVUm-T8wlfugKtbMTepjFt2GxJHMyiMauMzPm5kEoQD9Mht_E2ZLJ8DoAll_yhhWpWR5zJvwzokw5UDjuKOEMNwGB3wHV_Q8RrfRJHrgekaqzyoWqnOme3Ftb1kUdXn5x7Z69VjY4TEwqUyXrBgrDGPsnZCb5l3eI0/s1071/Vaughan%20Williams%201936,%20National%20portrait%20gallery.png" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1071" data-original-width="783" height="233" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjF_OmMP5Xd-UMs-ko7gYWbx1x79JVUm-T8wlfugKtbMTepjFt2GxJHMyiMauMzPm5kEoQD9Mht_E2ZLJ8DoAll_yhhWpWR5zJvwzokw5UDjuKOEMNwGB3wHV_Q8RrfRJHrgekaqzyoWqnOme3Ftb1kUdXn5x7Z69VjY4TEwqUyXrBgrDGPsnZCb5l3eI0/w146-h200/Vaughan%20Williams%201936,%20National%20portrait%20gallery.png" width="170" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Ralph Vaughan Williams, 1936.</td></tr></tbody></table>Given the large choir, and the fact that RVW later made versions of the <i>Serenade</i> for SATB soloists plus chorus, and for chorus only (both with orchestra), I wondered whether Maestro Preu would opt for either of those, but in the event his performance retained the solo contributions, albeit shared between 10 singers rather than 16, and used the full chorus elsewhere.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">All drawn from the Long Beach Camerata Singers, these were Emily Scott, Sarah Lonsert, Maddie Reynolds (sopranos), Kate Gremillion, Kim Mendez (altos), David Morales, Dongwhi Baek (tenors), and Randall Gremillion, Brandon Guzman, Connor Licharz (basses).</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">This really was a solution that made the best of both worlds, with the effect maintained in the main body of the piece of the differing solo voices seeming to hand on each to the next the jeweled words, but book-ended by and briefly interspersed with the sumptuous combination of full chorus and orchestra. Finally, the seraphic playing by Concertmaster Roger Wilkie of the violin solo that suffuses the introduction made me think that yet another of RVW’s arrangements of the <i>Serenade</i>, for violin and orchestra alone, would grace any future concert…</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQHfCLE7AirrEE8FQBK33KlmKTFTxktYviamAC1MkTtO_oakTozEtRbEcVzXccUvkADl9ri1VBKDavJQgxTVD8p5rnG2N7N6dZ473C0uNYSCDofhpI4bO2qUwbmWQOTJ_fMDN2Kr8QxHwPNo1Cmpn8IkcRp24C1IgOUx21VQT3NTC9Dfb1SuIW4Y7I-i4/s4032/Serenade%20cropped.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2145" data-original-width="4032" height="277" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQHfCLE7AirrEE8FQBK33KlmKTFTxktYviamAC1MkTtO_oakTozEtRbEcVzXccUvkADl9ri1VBKDavJQgxTVD8p5rnG2N7N6dZ473C0uNYSCDofhpI4bO2qUwbmWQOTJ_fMDN2Kr8QxHwPNo1Cmpn8IkcRp24C1IgOUx21VQT3NTC9Dfb1SuIW4Y7I-i4/w640-h341/Serenade%20cropped.JPG" width="520" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Serenade to Music.</i></td></tr></tbody></table></div><div style="text-align: justify;">Though the LBSO’s devoted playing was integral to the success of both the Brahms and the Vaughan Williams, neither work enabled the orchestra to properly show off its purely virtuosic chops. That, however, had already been remedied in the opening item. Many composers have been drawn to the cosmos as a subject, and to judge by its opening movement, <i>Aleph</i><span>, the </span><i>Cosmic Trilogy</i><span> by </span><a href="https://www.guillaumeconnesson.net/">Guillaume Connesson </a><span>(b.1970) is a worthy addition to the roster.</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwZOuhuRYytce7oWk1jqx4IqsMoRe-1AbcPXQtcmvUFGyh6PTRLC5NLTDkD6AQcvOY89KlpV26eio4BEYbVYciEI75UReMw5p42CeVI9OctsYNknmk4HP-oVivQH8c27OkF1URRdw119PRjeL6NewOaAtXJbLzp6cJ61pSa_hCDakZ8mlCwxsbQf0dLlQ/s6363/Guillaume%20Connesson__christophe_Peus%204.j.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="6363" data-original-width="4242" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwZOuhuRYytce7oWk1jqx4IqsMoRe-1AbcPXQtcmvUFGyh6PTRLC5NLTDkD6AQcvOY89KlpV26eio4BEYbVYciEI75UReMw5p42CeVI9OctsYNknmk4HP-oVivQH8c27OkF1URRdw119PRjeL6NewOaAtXJbLzp6cJ61pSa_hCDakZ8mlCwxsbQf0dLlQ/s320/Guillaume%20Connesson__christophe_Peus%204.j.jpg" width="200" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Guillaume Connesson.</td></tr></tbody></table>Reviewers of its only <a href="https://www.musicweb-international.com/classrev/2010/Feb10/Connesson_Cosmic_CHSA5076.htm">commercial recording</a> so far likened its sound-world to a range of other composers: for me the ones that came most immediately to mind were two Johns—Adams and Williams—given the prevalence of strong but intricately detailed and restlessly changing rhythmic patterns, punchy scoring with plenty of percussion (the opening represents nothing less than the Big Bang itself!), and in <i>Aleph</i>’s latter half, an aspiring theme emerging on violas that brought to mind ET and Elliott’s aerial bike-ride across the Moon’s disc.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">It would be easy to call the piece derivative, but in this performance <i>Aleph</i> made a marvelously invigorating concert-opener, greatly contrasted with the works to come. The LBSO under Maestro Preu threw themselves into it with galvanic energy, commitment and, so far as one could tell, accuracy—proving yet again to be a virtuoso orchestra that seemingly can take on and conquer any challenge it's faced with, however unfamiliar. Bravo!</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">Overall this quite splendid concert made one look forward even more to the <a href="https://longbeachsymphony.org/concerts-events/2023-2024-tchaikovsky-piano-concerto-no-1/">one remaining blockbuster program</a> in the LBSO’s 2023-24 season: Bruckner’s <i>Fourth Symphony</i> and Tchaikovsky’s <i>Piano Concerto No. 1</i> on June 1—will it really work with those two pieces in that order? We’ll see...</div><div><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">---ooo---</div><div><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">Long Beach Symphony Orchestra, Terrace Theater, Beverly O'Neill Performing Arts Center, Long Beach, Saturday, March 9, 2024, 8 p.m.</div><div style="text-align: left;">Images: The performance: Joseph Hower; Eckart Preu: Caught in the Moment Photography; Dr. James Bass: Long Beach Camerata Singers; Brahms: www.brahmsinstitut.de; Kevin Deas, Elissa Johnston: artists' websites; <i>Serenade to Music</i> CD cover: Courtesy Albion Records; Vaughan Williams: National Portrait Gallery, London; Guillaume Connesson: Christophe Peus (composer website).<br /></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /><i>If you found this review to be useful, interesting, or informative, please feel free to <b><a href="https://www.buymeacoffee.com/davidjbrown10">Buy Me A Coffee</a></b>!</i></div></div>David J Brownhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08224977724583670873noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9194809435670809838.post-46995244480276203832024-02-28T20:03:00.000-08:002024-03-01T10:20:04.889-08:00Shostakovich, Beethoven, and Griffes at Pacific Symphony<div><br /></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgip00U_-Npkck9iceHhw_w0swF-gjnlcV0lJ68fLy7VtvxSD9pn7YsHh3oILxmAt15Lv9-M-NderhJrWwolKucwzUSJBKDV0enU-zItw6CrhnE2oYPJfXDscOioYyP1H_I0Vkfml6YCQ2RTqgPDXyCRykRMsHw-ZrHYLfjj5sjmTlXEQCwbwkl-Ui36ro/s5000/2024-02-22_PacSymp_DG-2147.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3333" data-original-width="5000" height="346" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgip00U_-Npkck9iceHhw_w0swF-gjnlcV0lJ68fLy7VtvxSD9pn7YsHh3oILxmAt15Lv9-M-NderhJrWwolKucwzUSJBKDV0enU-zItw6CrhnE2oYPJfXDscOioYyP1H_I0Vkfml6YCQ2RTqgPDXyCRykRMsHw-ZrHYLfjj5sjmTlXEQCwbwkl-Ui36ro/w640-h426/2024-02-22_PacSymp_DG-2147.jpg" width="520" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Italian virtuoso Alessio Bax performs Beethoven’s <i>Piano Concerto No.3</i> with the Pacific<br />Symphony under guest conductor Andrew Litton.</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><div>REVIEW</div><div><br /></div><div>Pacific Symphony Orchestra, Segerstrom Center for the Arts, Costa Mesa</div><div>DAVID J BROWN</div><div><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">I did not consciously realize until after the event how young and indeed how remarkably close in age were all three composers—one 20th century American, now little remembered, and two familiar masters from the 19th and 20th centuries—when they wrote the works that were included by visiting guest conductor <a href="https://andrewlitton.com/">Andrew Litton</a> in the Pacific Symphony’s most recent concert at the Renée and Henry Segerstrom Concert Hall.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinx9v3i7mPOh6cuzrvI2ZXejVgOsdZ38ia0rvkcaJGL6ie2SI2Aq79FnYXJhWgxkvLMFBv7C4TkcWJTu2-zRae0Z1Z4R0XQQemudpEQ4TOxLeVuRImqc3rPm-o6XzYcdiXlkm_pEc4mq_5j1hDoir3JVo_5CxzrBzJqpN2mHPcEgdQ2jDxvCGUZpZgJyQ/s535/Griffes%20from%20NYPL.jpg" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="535" data-original-width="366" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinx9v3i7mPOh6cuzrvI2ZXejVgOsdZ38ia0rvkcaJGL6ie2SI2Aq79FnYXJhWgxkvLMFBv7C4TkcWJTu2-zRae0Z1Z4R0XQQemudpEQ4TOxLeVuRImqc3rPm-o6XzYcdiXlkm_pEc4mq_5j1hDoir3JVo_5CxzrBzJqpN2mHPcEgdQ2jDxvCGUZpZgJyQ/s320/Griffes%20from%20NYPL.jpg" width="219" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Charles Tomlinson Grifffes.</td></tr></tbody></table>As program opener, Maestro Litton chose neither a familiar repertoire overture nor one of the brief, celebratory explosions of orchestral fireworks that seem to appear with ever greater frequency from young and not-so-young contemporary composers on both sides of the border, but instead reached back just over a century to the work of Charles Tomlinson Griffes (1884-1920)—and for this listener at least, his selection couldn’t have been more welcome.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">Griffes is one of the fascinating might-have-beens of American music. By the time he fell victim at only 35 to the “Spanish flu” pandemic, his compositional output already reflected a wide and fertile range of influences—German Romanticism from his early studies in Berlin, contemporary French music (his fascination with which had him dubbed the “American impressionist”), Japanese art, drama and music, and an array of literary influences from Goethe and Blake to John Masefield and Oscar Wilde in his choice of song texts.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">Literature also imbued many of Griffes’ piano works including his <i>Roman Sketches, Op. 7</i>, all four of which drew their inspiration from the 1891 verse collection <i>Sospiri di Roma</i> by the Scot William Sharp, writing as “Fiona Macleod.” Griffes wrote <i>Roman Sketches</i> in 1915, and four years later orchestrated the first and last of the piano pieces, <i>The White Peacock</i> and <i>Clouds</i>. It was with the former that the concert began.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNJZ8ZpvfJjUwxcCT_0IObEOSHSdRJpR9Nu3wvY9BdVQT91atwy1FnNsC9c1hyphenhyphenrzs0Nc0KJVzpEgmFZsFRSq6MlCVR8dxFTYVYaUNgVkelz02c00PAeEKE6vsv4xkVpq-fyfHSfFof8ZJTM7dZAwqnUBS-y5VKJ96xUNeIA6aU5J9OSkCpbAyaUZiBf1I/s1075/white%20peacock.jpg" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="648" data-original-width="1075" height="193" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNJZ8ZpvfJjUwxcCT_0IObEOSHSdRJpR9Nu3wvY9BdVQT91atwy1FnNsC9c1hyphenhyphenrzs0Nc0KJVzpEgmFZsFRSq6MlCVR8dxFTYVYaUNgVkelz02c00PAeEKE6vsv4xkVpq-fyfHSfFof8ZJTM7dZAwqnUBS-y5VKJ96xUNeIA6aU5J9OSkCpbAyaUZiBf1I/s320/white%20peacock.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>The soft rising and falling phrases on solo oboe and flute that begin the piece certainly earn the “impressionist” epithet, but interestingly, Griffes changed the initial marking from <i>Languidamente</i> in the piano version to <i>Largamente</i> in his orchestral score (with <i>e molto rubato</i> qualifying both). Maybe this implied a greater degree of purposefulness: if so, it was certainly borne out in Litton’s handling of the work, which proceeded with impressively controlled inevitability to the single powerful climax, sometimes taken to represent the full glorious opening out of the titular peacock’s tail.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">Though quite economical in woodwind and brass scoring, Griffes lavishly enriched <i>The White Peacock</i>’s textures with two harps and celesta, and their almost constant presence in the aural picture glittered ravishingly in the Segerstrom’s marvelous acoustic. At just five minutes, the piece as ever left one wishing that there was more of it, but it was an effective and refreshing concert-opener.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg946_FSWFtaW7h6zfyvPt2RZ9T66P_197tnVW5PiyahVlh4bL_7bABsGeWZXOWxWPlpUNCHGRmqHYvaGAWKVvcQLVAdb7ZWsSzt2ScfOzO9SJhuiqLTwW3mGE_eL-Xj5cjZDVPr3yfPURJpORhrxMytt0XbYJr8ieW9TUVo2cgukmA2taKrfBmV9j-VT4/s482/Beethoven_Riedel_1801.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="482" data-original-width="425" height="249" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg946_FSWFtaW7h6zfyvPt2RZ9T66P_197tnVW5PiyahVlh4bL_7bABsGeWZXOWxWPlpUNCHGRmqHYvaGAWKVvcQLVAdb7ZWsSzt2ScfOzO9SJhuiqLTwW3mGE_eL-Xj5cjZDVPr3yfPURJpORhrxMytt0XbYJr8ieW9TUVo2cgukmA2taKrfBmV9j-VT4/s320/Beethoven_Riedel_1801.jpg" width="219" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Ludwig van Beethoven, c.1801.</td></tr></tbody></table>The sense of controlled purpose in Litton’s interpretative style was certainly maintained in the <i>Piano Concerto No. 3 in C minor, Op. 37</i> of Beethoven. With each string section reduced by a couple of desks, the orchestral exposition was light on its feet but vigorous and lithe, and full of arrowed focus. It’s not hard to sense in this Concerto—which was probably completed some time in 1800—that Beethoven, still not quite 30, was filled with an awareness of boundless possibilities at the onset of the new century.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">The pianist announces his presence with upward sweeping scales and emphatic restatement of the principal subject, already given plenty of attention in the orchestral exposition. This entry could hardly be more assertive of confidence and purpose, but there was no sense of rhetorical display for its own sake here or anywhere else in the Italian virtuoso <a href="https://www.alessiobax.com/">Alessio Bax</a>’s account of the first movement, where the feeling of through-composed unity extended even to the cadenza, which by some alchemy felt wholly integral to the argument rather than an occasion for everyone else to sit on their hands and wait.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDL9pRsQD-SM9tTkmju9moEsWlHNfBjjIhHArWOEF6BudaNf1oJCWLEnJGMBJSpzj_44uqxwNMFcMPdCqkb6i1dkLsaJ-RsgKPJVt2Vy3LfJGZ-Er9mxvy5a78jTPmN7bN6co6MRkGt8cUEc02OrkzxyN0JnOVofaI9nEH4xTe3oNA-fGc2so9xmLqEeg/s5000/2024-02-22_PacSymp_DG-1728.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="5000" data-original-width="4000" height="274" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDL9pRsQD-SM9tTkmju9moEsWlHNfBjjIhHArWOEF6BudaNf1oJCWLEnJGMBJSpzj_44uqxwNMFcMPdCqkb6i1dkLsaJ-RsgKPJVt2Vy3LfJGZ-Er9mxvy5a78jTPmN7bN6co6MRkGt8cUEc02OrkzxyN0JnOVofaI9nEH4xTe3oNA-fGc2so9xmLqEeg/s320/2024-02-22_PacSymp_DG-1728.jpg" width="219" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Alessio Bax.</td></tr></tbody></table>In the slow movement, Bax effortlessly unfurled the thickets of 64th-notes that Beethoven’s odd conjunction of a 3/8 time signature and <i>Largo</i> tempo marking necessitated, while the irresistible <i>Rondo</i> finale, with conductor, soloist, and orchestra all figuratively and very much literally on the same page, cemented the impression of a masterpiece that manages to combine both youthfulness and maturity.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">The standing ovation brought an encore, but not as we usually know it, Jim. Bax shifted over on the piano stool to make room for Maestro Litton, and together they launched into a hilariously helter-skelter account of Brahms’ <i>Hungarian Dance No. 5 in F-sharp minor</i> in its original piano four-hands form that elicited as much laughter as applause.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjq9zD_4T1CZql5Ib9aVeHpoIiFMycEettiA-dNuqACP8tRpZd8766LiRJTlHRTDYDrXFBfg_nkVhCASxxy1a1lf1V_y43pigtiQil6A5cFmeQ581UsaG0WEHWgCY7Gbv-thjQ2ResDSpfw299JZgs56iIs662OCjDourjw02S6Tpg7VCyHAXpw8z1ePs/s5000/2024-02-22_PacSymp_DG-2807.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3273" data-original-width="5000" height="261" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjq9zD_4T1CZql5Ib9aVeHpoIiFMycEettiA-dNuqACP8tRpZd8766LiRJTlHRTDYDrXFBfg_nkVhCASxxy1a1lf1V_y43pigtiQil6A5cFmeQ581UsaG0WEHWgCY7Gbv-thjQ2ResDSpfw299JZgs56iIs662OCjDourjw02S6Tpg7VCyHAXpw8z1ePs/w400-h261/2024-02-22_PacSymp_DG-2807.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Alessio Bax and Andrew Litton share a moment in their encore performance of <br />Brahms’ <i>Hungarian Dance No. 5</i>.</td></tr></tbody></table><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzEzkJjm_ck0oWkpkX2gKtK7u90CQHAxKIPFuBoILELWR91RK0D3y-NjO-2fn2uhv-BRcz7EthiEMPq387rECdupMzZGrS9NHjgkbziL6S6iVGHmZZnPARgMECbjWVfy1f-_AyhSzjaaiv72A0ftEiilag_2HS1KxGNlWrkE86U1VbvM9ngmVf06IBPY8/s730/Andrew%20Litton%20and%20Shostakovich%20cropped%202.jpg" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="730" data-original-width="359" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzEzkJjm_ck0oWkpkX2gKtK7u90CQHAxKIPFuBoILELWR91RK0D3y-NjO-2fn2uhv-BRcz7EthiEMPq387rECdupMzZGrS9NHjgkbziL6S6iVGHmZZnPARgMECbjWVfy1f-_AyhSzjaaiv72A0ftEiilag_2HS1KxGNlWrkE86U1VbvM9ngmVf06IBPY8/s320/Andrew%20Litton%20and%20Shostakovich%20cropped%202.jpg" width="157" /></a></div>During a pre-concert chat with host Alan Chapman and also in remarks from the podium immediately before the performance, Maestro Litton reminisced about having, at the age of 13, met Dmitri Shostakovich briefly in New York in 1973 (<i>right</i>), and then went on to outline the sociopolitical circumstances behind the composition of his <i>Symphony No. 5 in D minor, Op. 47</i>, which filled the second half of the concert.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">With <i>Pravda</i>’s withering denunciation of his recently staged 1936 opera <i>Lady Macbeth of the Mtsensk District</i> representing a literal threat to Shostakovich's life, and his radically original <i>Fourth Symphony</i> unperformed and indefinitely shelved, it’s remarkable that when he came to pen his “<i>Soviet artist’s reply to just criticism</i>,” as he dubbed the <i>Fifth Symphony</i>, the result was no feeble clone of some supposed Classical model but a powerful, personal, and in places deeply moving work that has become a repertoire staple worldwide ever since its rapturously received Leningrad premiere in November 1937, only two months after the composer turned 31 years of age.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEieMPbNzHwsjxO23F071ddvlCB1v8DUTW7wHS-9DoUbznOC6dhlrOIILfLPv8ckgI-zSU3eBatpNVojNPiJJdYozKueYzYwWSYBU9-XhuM821lOYKMUSfcs7x3RHlkFQ5BDCnBIpnNl1uJSEp81cJqnX5-8B6hakCbjEML6iWpuKE1DtEeb64E1VxcP7-c/s600/shostakovich-1906-1975-15037794.jpg..webp" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="600" data-original-width="473" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEieMPbNzHwsjxO23F071ddvlCB1v8DUTW7wHS-9DoUbznOC6dhlrOIILfLPv8ckgI-zSU3eBatpNVojNPiJJdYozKueYzYwWSYBU9-XhuM821lOYKMUSfcs7x3RHlkFQ5BDCnBIpnNl1uJSEp81cJqnX5-8B6hakCbjEML6iWpuKE1DtEeb64E1VxcP7-c/s320/shostakovich-1906-1975-15037794.jpg..webp" width="252" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Dmitri Shostakovich.</td></tr></tbody></table>That it also clearly holds a special place for Maestro Litton was evident throughout the performance, masterly paced alike in the far-reaching dramatic arc of the first movement, the piquant, texturally inventive <i>Allegretto</i> (essentially a scherzo-and-trio), and the long-drawn, tragic intensity of the <i>Largo</i>—all delivered with individual and collective finesse, eloquence, and power by the Pacific Symphony at the very top of its considerable game.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">Finest of all was the finale. In his remarks Litton had also recalled hearing—at the beginning of his appointment as Assistant Conductor for the National Symphony Orchestra in Washington D.C.—its then music director Mstislav Rostropovich, who had been a close friend of the composer, rehearse this symphony. Knowing the finale in what were then typically fast and jubilantly triumphant performances, Litton had queried Rostropovich’s slow tempi and got the unequivocal response that this was how the music was <i>meant to go</i>.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEif7JxBqZ5M5v7Z838hNEaGHaBd5NA7cMpsC8iRaraFts4Zo-_o0n6h8FV7UiJ2vcvXzLLrK20Jeyd-9E-Y8w6-Bwma5m7bneE3b8PZInBO3Z5e9YOSAH_XiGedVBsNOy2HY1OJQu-JRVjD2OVHpLL4Tku5zUvTEsBCFeUtYmgSxpC4zLuhgKkzuraT2uw/s5000/2024-02-22_PacSymp_DG-3683.jpg" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="5000" data-original-width="5000" height="252" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEif7JxBqZ5M5v7Z838hNEaGHaBd5NA7cMpsC8iRaraFts4Zo-_o0n6h8FV7UiJ2vcvXzLLrK20Jeyd-9E-Y8w6-Bwma5m7bneE3b8PZInBO3Z5e9YOSAH_XiGedVBsNOy2HY1OJQu-JRVjD2OVHpLL4Tku5zUvTEsBCFeUtYmgSxpC4zLuhgKkzuraT2uw/w200-h200/2024-02-22_PacSymp_DG-3683.jpg" width="252" /></a></div>His own performance left no doubt that this was a lesson well learned. The <i>Allegro non troppo</i> opening, taken at the marked quarter-note=88, became heavily menacing, and thereafter felt like an unseen but ever-present background threat to the more tranquil, even aspiring, expressive uplands of the movement’s central section. </div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">But when the oppressive slow motion bombast returned, it swept all before it until reaching colossal <i>fff </i>unisons on the timpani and bass drum—as apt an aural metaphor as you could imagine for Orwell’s chilling vision from <i>1984</i>: “<i>If you want a picture of the future, imagine a boot stamping on a human face—forever.</i>”</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7AouxEcyL4kUju6URHZMOgho5DILhepL8JaLIledY8ZtvIVNNgQRf1JU5Izz09xLFkfdDyvbn6Yqc_u5ltPm9Q6tAqitI0RpVoXN0JVwkfgLoNUcup11pK5VaD-KgY96Y3X1o120teiSRO1EjlpsPk04yZ9OrhkfNmrGOcdL0YCCmZRm2pmamAdxFiA0/s3912/2024-02-22_PacSymp_DG-1030.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1724" data-original-width="3912" height="229" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7AouxEcyL4kUju6URHZMOgho5DILhepL8JaLIledY8ZtvIVNNgQRf1JU5Izz09xLFkfdDyvbn6Yqc_u5ltPm9Q6tAqitI0RpVoXN0JVwkfgLoNUcup11pK5VaD-KgY96Y3X1o120teiSRO1EjlpsPk04yZ9OrhkfNmrGOcdL0YCCmZRm2pmamAdxFiA0/w640-h282/2024-02-22_PacSymp_DG-1030.jpg" width="520" /></a></div><br />This marvelous performance—inspiring and disturbing in equal measure—came just as the Pacific Symphony was announcing its <a href="https://www.pacificsymphony.org/35thanniversaryseries">upcoming 2024-2025 season</a>—its 46th since its founding in 1979 and a particularly special one in that it marks the 35th year of Carl St. Clair’s tenure as Music Director.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">There are far too many intriguing items across the 12 concerts to list here, but for this listener the standouts include Samuel Barber’s marvelous <i>Symphony No. 1</i> on November 14-16 in an exceptionally rich program that also includes Tchaikovsky’s <i>Francesca da Rimini</i> and Brahms’ <i>Violin Concerto</i>; the startling juxtaposition on January 9-11, 2025 of Vivaldi’s <i>Four Seasons</i> and Strauss’s <i>Alpine Symphony</i> (with “jaw-dropping visuals,” we are promised); and most enticing of all, a semi-staging of Wagner’s <i>Das Rheingold</i> on April 10-15, 2025.</div><div><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">---ooo---</div><div><br /></div><div>Pacific Symphony Orchestra, Renée and Henry Segerstrom Concert Hall, Thursday February 22, 2024, 8 p.m.</div><div>Images: The performers: Doug Gifford; Griffes: New York Public Library; White peacock: Galleria Home Store; Beethoven: Wikimedia Commons; Shostakovich and Litton: Andrew Litton; Shostakovich: State Central M. Glinka Museum of Music, Moscow.</div><div><br /></div><i>If you found this review enjoyable, interesting, or informative, please feel free to <b><a href="https://www.buymeacoffee.com/davidjbrown10">Buy Me A Coffee</a></b>!</i>David J Brownhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08224977724583670873noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9194809435670809838.post-84573856073039671842024-02-25T14:03:00.000-08:002024-02-25T14:36:02.684-08:00West Coast Premiere of “X” Triumphs<p> </p><div><p style="caret-color: rgb(51, 51, 51); color: #333333; font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 15.08px; line-height: 1.8em; margin: 0px 0px 0.75em;"></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCr1Oa4bq0HY0E3vd9b813lTQfX39s3vqyqQ98olHrSa-41K7zHlgqK7sGTF9SrFeJQl5BLeNUt6ycRgAwaA9-QIkCfGBMFEIGcHtCtP6vYYn9NHUahJziUzTVU_jh3HIqOD3dx2ky3Q0C2ZX6wW5MMNx7IWKmi7CSoOcCanpGZ-anWL2QlsylIsiMvKY/s5184/Malcolm%20X_DR2_Newton.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2765" data-original-width="4147" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCr1Oa4bq0HY0E3vd9b813lTQfX39s3vqyqQ98olHrSa-41K7zHlgqK7sGTF9SrFeJQl5BLeNUt6ycRgAwaA9-QIkCfGBMFEIGcHtCtP6vYYn9NHUahJziUzTVU_jh3HIqOD3dx2ky3Q0C2ZX6wW5MMNx7IWKmi7CSoOcCanpGZ-anWL2QlsylIsiMvKY/s320/Malcolm%20X_DR2_Newton.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Philip Newton</td></tr></tbody></table><span style="background-color: white; font-size: 15.08px;"><br /></span><p></p><p style="caret-color: rgb(51, 51, 51); color: #333333; font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 15.08px; line-height: 1.8em; margin: 0px 0px 0.75em;"><span style="background-color: white; font-size: 15.08px;">REVIEW: </span><span style="font-size: 15.08px;">Seattle Opera</span></p><div style="caret-color: rgb(51, 51, 51); color: #333333; font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 15.08px;">McCaw Hall, Seattle<br /><div><div><br /></div><div>ERICA MINER</div></div></div></div><div><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">First opera by Black composer on Seattle Opera main stage </div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">The opening night of <i>X: The Life and Times of Malcolm X</i> proved a winner for composer Anthony Davis, librettist Thulani Davis, and story author Christopher Davis, all of whom were in the audience for the February 24 Seattle Opera premiere. The trifecta have created a work replete with tour-de-force roles for multiple singers, plenty of action, and high drama as high art. Themes of truth vs oppression were driven home by the dramatic music and the compelling libretto and story.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">The trailblazing work is not new. It first premiered at New York City Opera in 1986 and was performed to huge success this past season at the Metropolitan Opera. These days it takes a village to create innovation in the opera world; the current revival of this co-production of Seattle Opera, Detroit Opera, Lyric Opera of Chicago, the Met, and Opera Omaha remains as revolutionary—both musically and politically—as it was at its outset.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">That Malcolm X endures as a dynamic, yet puzzling and misunderstood, public figure is a testament to his continued significance in modern society. To this day, opinions about him amongst people of all races vary wildly. All the more reason why an opera chronicling his life and times is more relevant than ever.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_9EbPGWEVlx5g28s79GcmVt51S-2_6wC17V5JhacGrYVKJpptwWljCn4sXFG4WEfnNkVEidLuDhaa7wWSqkoWZOp5BzBB5tBKzChDtU3Q2a9rAROj_vAaYsJ4GURx2-AqsvSSyhv3T2aQ9coOIdJ0C84EqfwsW_fNAnFyBMUYWujexjdBfPkNBCGZ64U/s6720/Rex%20Walker,%20Hawkins%20X_Newton_2092.jpg" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4480" data-original-width="6720" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_9EbPGWEVlx5g28s79GcmVt51S-2_6wC17V5JhacGrYVKJpptwWljCn4sXFG4WEfnNkVEidLuDhaa7wWSqkoWZOp5BzBB5tBKzChDtU3Q2a9rAROj_vAaYsJ4GURx2-AqsvSSyhv3T2aQ9coOIdJ0C84EqfwsW_fNAnFyBMUYWujexjdBfPkNBCGZ64U/s320/Rex%20Walker,%20Hawkins%20X_Newton_2092.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Rex Walker, Leah Hawkins<br />Philip Newton</td></tr></tbody></table><div style="text-align: justify;">Two major figures, both of them tour-de-force roles, stand out from the cast. Not surprisingly Kenneth Kellogg in the title role rises to the top. Omnipresent as a character, from the Malcolm of his childhood, played with remarkable panache by Rex Walker in his SO debut, and throughout the work, the demands of the role are huge, and Kellogg proved worthy of the task. His sizable voice projected to great effect over the large orchestration, and his dramatic portrayal of the enigmatic leader was convincing in all of its permutations. One never tired of watching him.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">As Elijah Muhammad, Joshua Stewart stood out from the very first for his impressive clarion vocality. The voice sounded glorious in all registers, and especially in the top range, where the tessitura was challenging.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXbJ3bOnCrwBm23TRddnLdcy7xAKV0mkDHvm6GpJPopNlLiHuVloJpSP-VVz3VApo0b-YJhYsVGoZFia60a9kp75OXqdbBTuDQol3LO98_VIHBOwz0NHtzHZvTiCZj6FQMpFNqEt_z2VgO3LOO4NkIN0MNs41tmotN0gLL1rEWjajajDgQODNMEuJJkcQ/s6543/JStewart%20Newton_2945.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="6543" data-original-width="4362" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXbJ3bOnCrwBm23TRddnLdcy7xAKV0mkDHvm6GpJPopNlLiHuVloJpSP-VVz3VApo0b-YJhYsVGoZFia60a9kp75OXqdbBTuDQol3LO98_VIHBOwz0NHtzHZvTiCZj6FQMpFNqEt_z2VgO3LOO4NkIN0MNs41tmotN0gLL1rEWjajajDgQODNMEuJJkcQ/s320/JStewart%20Newton_2945.jpg" width="213" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Joshua Stewart<br />Philip Newton</td></tr></tbody></table><div style="text-align: justify;">On the female side of the ledger, debuting artists Leah Hawkins and Ronnita Miller gave striking performances. As Malcolm’s mother Louise, Hawkins started off the evening with an arduous aria that demanded virtuosity in every range, from the profound bottom notes to the extreme high ones. She also was effective as Malcolm’s wife Betty. Miller’s Wagnerian instrument was imposing in the roles of Ella and the Queen Mother. Joshua Conyers was outstanding as Malcolm’s brother Reginald.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">Robert O’Hara’s stage direction, along with debuting associates Melanie Bacaling and Nicholas Polonio, demonstrated a powerful vision of the protagonist’s social identity that was consistent and balanced in its historical view yet maintained the radical intensity of the subject matter. All of the characters integrated with each other in the multiple vignettes as true, living beings in a momentous episode of our past. Every scene connected seamlessly with the next, providing a context that made the viewer feel as if they were witnessing events in real time.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">The bold set designs of Clint Ramos and his associate Diggle grabbed the attention from the beginning. Part Star Trek, part temple ministry of both past and future, the visuals were arresting and skillfully integrated into the story and action. The lighting designs and projections of Alex Janchill and Yee Eun Nam, both in their SO debuts, with assistance from debuting designer Paige Seber, were nothing short of dazzling. The eye-catching amalgamation of lighting and projections made the drama stand out in every scene.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhssec50ytiNmCZCHt_EemcvsXp0qMn7qwTtDPsurJE9_dCnjT5sqa_gOqJQh8vbWfToyF-ST1anzviCzsYI3_vqiXClRHjc5XkNjQi5K6eJAR6xZmjC-5erh29xmRB-57gMf9uN-Hzt39wzewezEWDj5IAtuVuyuvgY2loXDXlyMQUy5HmNU0ZrobT1jo/s5184/Temple%20Newton_3900.jpg" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3456" data-original-width="5184" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhssec50ytiNmCZCHt_EemcvsXp0qMn7qwTtDPsurJE9_dCnjT5sqa_gOqJQh8vbWfToyF-ST1anzviCzsYI3_vqiXClRHjc5XkNjQi5K6eJAR6xZmjC-5erh29xmRB-57gMf9uN-Hzt39wzewezEWDj5IAtuVuyuvgY2loXDXlyMQUy5HmNU0ZrobT1jo/s320/Temple%20Newton_3900.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Philip Newton</td></tr></tbody></table><div style="text-align: justify;">The chorus ensemble of friends and others were also stars of the show. Appearing in a variety of ways in multiple scenes, these outstanding singers negotiated the many roles required of them with memorable brilliance. The Greek chorus of dancers, inventively choreographed by Rickey Tripp and Arianne Meneses in their SO debuts, provided a throughline of activity that heightened the many contrasting dramatic moments.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUD9HYNgZFVSEE1JurHluMeH6Mx2payAZkNaEWo1-u5VozbAp4J4Kzwxsn7wODIlKIPHJxTH4hZCBPKqWsawcUzUEUc-dvrVV3Ime1S3PZFE2PQljVgxAzje6fMwAripWst8ImLoBzKaBZJ2RLPfNNuugdRFJddRx5KUOktvmboHZgewjMs3EyNf7wVys/s6720/Chorus%20Newton_1275.jpg" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4480" data-original-width="6720" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUD9HYNgZFVSEE1JurHluMeH6Mx2payAZkNaEWo1-u5VozbAp4J4Kzwxsn7wODIlKIPHJxTH4hZCBPKqWsawcUzUEUc-dvrVV3Ime1S3PZFE2PQljVgxAzje6fMwAripWst8ImLoBzKaBZJ2RLPfNNuugdRFJddRx5KUOktvmboHZgewjMs3EyNf7wVys/s320/Chorus%20Newton_1275.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Philip Newton</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzoyg0HivYEuPMqbeUa_TwOmJXPm2mD_cJOFJzm0amDRNm1kFoXyeWXLQrodGcvsWDCZXr5wY6vN5gOotQUtBWUZX2AwkKon9vIt9JxVyAeTJbjy0fW1oCNQGhaIDgDYJB2xTCdw1UvxRJdKrDd2WCVUGSuoPTy7sezHca1fZ5j8wGihPjoaJxhwoaNhs/s5000/set-proj%20sunnymartini_63689.jpg" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3335" data-original-width="5000" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzoyg0HivYEuPMqbeUa_TwOmJXPm2mD_cJOFJzm0amDRNm1kFoXyeWXLQrodGcvsWDCZXr5wY6vN5gOotQUtBWUZX2AwkKon9vIt9JxVyAeTJbjy0fW1oCNQGhaIDgDYJB2xTCdw1UvxRJdKrDd2WCVUGSuoPTy7sezHca1fZ5j8wGihPjoaJxhwoaNhs/s320/set-proj%20sunnymartini_63689.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Sunny Martini</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">Davis’s music, from the jazz-inflected overture to the poignant arias and vibrant choruses, was mesmerizing. The urgency of the narrative was vividly portrayed in each moment, whether action driven or meditative. His score was masterfully done: creative and innovative, with an improvising ensemble embedded within, providing intriguing hints of his later operas to come.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">Conductor Kazem Abdullah maintained exceptional control of the orchestra with sensitivity and clarity of movement, in a score that contained huge contrasts in style from scene to scene. Great demands were made on the orchestra, especially the extensive trumpet solos which were admirably executed, and Abdullah made sure the appropriate voices stood out when needed.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><i>X: The Life and Times of Malcolm X</i> is without doubt a definitive event for Seattle Opera, and worth experiencing in all of its many extraordinary aspects. </div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtD-0kE4fbjPKr-vymubf_NjPUd-Fw9C7TLJ9_ROgwHFBIkt69bkLNwZ7oZESZ-kKpAyHZZy8BxYHgHct1sJxZYuPtt9JdWHB8TFn7GWy9eUVh_XMwM0H3artzILkQE8OUX81TXa-1ZQyREw_K4Bs68pGdtVB906Xr9m5uI0a5OvlfRuAjvSnnbzZsH3s/s3964/malcolm%20sunnymartini_66964.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3964" data-original-width="2644" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtD-0kE4fbjPKr-vymubf_NjPUd-Fw9C7TLJ9_ROgwHFBIkt69bkLNwZ7oZESZ-kKpAyHZZy8BxYHgHct1sJxZYuPtt9JdWHB8TFn7GWy9eUVh_XMwM0H3artzILkQE8OUX81TXa-1ZQyREw_K4Bs68pGdtVB906Xr9m5uI0a5OvlfRuAjvSnnbzZsH3s/s320/malcolm%20sunnymartini_66964.jpg" width="213" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Kenneth Kellogg<br />Sunny Martini</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>Photo credits: Phillip Newton, Sunny Martini
</div><div><div style="caret-color: rgb(51, 51, 51); color: #333333; font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 15.08px; text-align: center;">---ooo--- </div><div style="caret-color: rgb(51, 51, 51); color: #333333; font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 15.08px;"><br /></div><div style="caret-color: rgb(51, 51, 51); color: #333333; font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 15.08px;"> <i>Erica can be reached at: eminer5472@gmail.com</i></div></div>Erica Minerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15981212553256317650noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9194809435670809838.post-20467168423568934162024-02-23T22:41:00.000-08:002024-02-25T08:09:17.676-08:00Dvořák, Mussorgsky/Ravel, Price, and Preu at Long Beach<br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMpXdUPczdJDTxt5nFXaCj5qsjQauQHmfwtIYMHUCCS2FM0zTNk2tVL7LzF5A9sfCsIkzYBnFibPTJ-5DB2XtPWUd6QmXcM2OW6iaClMqlwE9pBTqk1T9DUCesH8GqwxT7s62pLbJrXWpFUht_T1MdSX69xEIUp6GGCXEO_C9Qk-Nr1dgyc8O7nXvqfew/s3500/Ceecilia%20playing%20distant%20shot.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2333" data-original-width="3500" height="346" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMpXdUPczdJDTxt5nFXaCj5qsjQauQHmfwtIYMHUCCS2FM0zTNk2tVL7LzF5A9sfCsIkzYBnFibPTJ-5DB2XtPWUd6QmXcM2OW6iaClMqlwE9pBTqk1T9DUCesH8GqwxT7s62pLbJrXWpFUht_T1MdSX69xEIUp6GGCXEO_C9Qk-Nr1dgyc8O7nXvqfew/w640-h426/Ceecilia%20playing%20distant%20shot.jpg" width="520" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Cécilia Tsan and the Long Beach Symphony Orchestra under Eckart Preu perform Antonín Dvořák's <i>Cello Concerto</i>.</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><div>REVIEW</div><div><br /></div><div>Long Beach Symphony, Terrace Theater, Beverly O'Neill Performing Arts Center, Long Beach</div><div>DAVID J BROWN</div><div><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhx9DY9cTrKiPylSKIBDeUJtXrA9eOupZPczmhBjsy-9LngmpgB_CY6feggbubK7r0qjWEsgDiyXYliZ4S9yyEZWVdxVGw52tMZImyos_AstSM6OdhT-5IAW3h22eS1cffatAqXIymyh_IC8qcNRPDEfTs4LP6hWkAbVoTZ9A1q7h94E_yXKuUsoTLxMH0/s1166/Dvorak%20in%20NY%201893.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1166" data-original-width="1090" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhx9DY9cTrKiPylSKIBDeUJtXrA9eOupZPczmhBjsy-9LngmpgB_CY6feggbubK7r0qjWEsgDiyXYliZ4S9yyEZWVdxVGw52tMZImyos_AstSM6OdhT-5IAW3h22eS1cffatAqXIymyh_IC8qcNRPDEfTs4LP6hWkAbVoTZ9A1q7h94E_yXKuUsoTLxMH0/w187-h200/Dvorak%20in%20NY%201893.jpg" width="140" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Dvořák in 1893.</td></tr></tbody></table>Snatching a few days’ respite between the Southern Californian rainstorms, the largest Long Beach Symphony audience in a long while filled the Terrace Theater on the third Saturday of February for a concert in which the centerpiece account of Antonín Dvořák’s <i>Cello Concerto in B minor, Op. 104, B. 191</i> by the LBSO's Principal Cellist Cécilia Tsan and the orchestra under its Music Director Eckart Preu fully realized and projected those qualities that make it arguably the greatest of all works in its particular genre.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUhwjr81Cf02xOllJmkJxTcfWfvEKNJdve57OK77jk7DgEHB1g09dks6tXDzT-9BdA7sZtjUo4JQoqj3VtHqYKQ1o6Qm8i3Urci9qrKHg_tcWfWaplPOH3_I47fxzNkFF3aeKAjeUBRWZ_9TBmy5wZjCq8bjtJNq9MhykjyStxAeo4sygaMPw_DX1Lunc/s868/Dvorak%20NY%20plaque.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="868" data-original-width="659" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUhwjr81Cf02xOllJmkJxTcfWfvEKNJdve57OK77jk7DgEHB1g09dks6tXDzT-9BdA7sZtjUo4JQoqj3VtHqYKQ1o6Qm8i3Urci9qrKHg_tcWfWaplPOH3_I47fxzNkFF3aeKAjeUBRWZ_9TBmy5wZjCq8bjtJNq9MhykjyStxAeo4sygaMPw_DX1Lunc/s320/Dvorak%20NY%20plaque.jpg" width="243" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Commemorative plaque on the <br />site of Dvořák’s NYC residence.</td></tr></tbody></table>Although the <i>Cello Concerto</i> was not Dvořák’s last major composition—five symphonic poems and four operas were to follow in the nine years left to him after its completion at New York in 1895—its magisterial symphonic scale and structural mastery, together with a memorably haunting beauty and unprecedented exploration of the cello’s expressive potential as a concerto solo instrument, certainly would have made it a triumphant conclusion to his career had that actually been the case.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">Maestro Preu launched the extensive orchestral exposition of the <i>Allegro</i> first movement with uncompromising boldness, the pervasive principal motif of a rising and then falling 3rd ringing out like a minatory warning and then, in its full <i>fortissimo</i> flowering, wholly living up to Dvořák’s <i>Grandioso</i> marking, where the tuba (a very rare instrumental presence in a 19th century concerto) added its singular tombstone heft to the massive chord’s foundations.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">More than usual did this opening recall not so much the <i>“New World” Symphony</i>, written only a couple of years previously, but rather the soundworld of Dvořák’s earlier and more dramatically concentrated <i>Symphony No. 7</i>, though when the second subject melody finally arrived—immaculately intoned here by principal horn Melia Badalian—its <i>molto espressivo</i> added the element of heartfelt reverie that belongs to this <i>Concerto</i> alone.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">Another grandiose tutti ensues and then winds down gradually to clear the way for the cello’s entry. Given as always the proviso that the Terrace Theater’s acoustic tends to drain some of the impact of any string soloist, Ms. Tsan demonstrated from her first statement of the principal motif that she “owns” this <i>Concerto</i>: carefully observant of all the instructions with which Dvořák surrounds the solo entry—<i>forte</i>, <i>risoluto,</i> and <i>Quasi improvisando</i>—she launched her long journey with fervent and infectious spontaneity.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSaN4hSlil0p2re0P-LpK80a-iFUXoUvOCqhUg-cXu88x-L4eU-MGEIcpo6-vGgKK9P41R-nqeFqDKBEEYtrA_pIyznZuTdv3DriRE_siT0q_GpyyOaikX8lAxksANqO7RKHdXyrlgl5N2gsQfg1SQwQeFhCVVkOGtpfuEXo-7RdH6IlyE2R66wv19Brc/s873/Dv%20w%20family%20and%20friends%20in%20NY%201893.png" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="873" data-original-width="805" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSaN4hSlil0p2re0P-LpK80a-iFUXoUvOCqhUg-cXu88x-L4eU-MGEIcpo6-vGgKK9P41R-nqeFqDKBEEYtrA_pIyznZuTdv3DriRE_siT0q_GpyyOaikX8lAxksANqO7RKHdXyrlgl5N2gsQfg1SQwQeFhCVVkOGtpfuEXo-7RdH6IlyE2R66wv19Brc/s320/Dv%20w%20family%20and%20friends%20in%20NY%201893.png" width="295" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Antonín Dvořák (<i>right</i>) with family <br />and friends in New York, 1893.</td></tr></tbody></table>Indeed, this account of the <i>Cello Concerto</i> made the best imaginable case for the view that a performance by a gifted orchestra principal in complete accord with their respected and loved colleagues can be at least as satisfying as that of any visiting soloist, however starry, and in this particular instance Ms. Tsan has openly averred that this particular work more than any other originally inspired her to pursue her career as a cellist.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">After the wide-ranging drama of the first movement, the <i>Adagio ma non troppo</i> was as warmly expressive as anyone could wish, without any of the tendency to wallow in sentiment that can afflict some performances (the whole work came in at a trim 40 minutes). Most impressive of all was the Finale, which Maestro Preu skilfully navigated from bold re-awakening after the slow movement’s long dying fall to a perfectly integrated handling of the remarkable coda.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">Though Dvořák completed the <i>Cello Concerto</i>'s initial version in New York over winter 1894-95—with news of the serious illness of his much-loved sister-in-law Josefina Kounicová already coloring its content and sensibility—after his return home in April 1895 and then Josefina’s death in the following month he inserted into the coda some 60 new measures of quietly autumnal music, as if surveying and bidding farewell to the <i>Concerto</i>'s long journey from its trenchant opening, before rousing itself to the <i>ff</i> conclusion. The remarkable unanimity between Ms. Tsan and the LBSO under Preu’s baton gave this extended leave-taking a time-stopping raptness, underlining with what sureness Dvořák in his final revision had further refined and deepened what was already a masterpiece.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEISCbu0OCEfDUlw7c8Xf1wGBmFZDnsCvBAbYeKIzKGMV_kMHJjgt4TP5cd380nnhW49sCys4NNC41AQW-minWBEss41CP2smRTFEcJFrwhxzHQsSSKEmB2FHkkU5hRBDu4k2-9kRWwPkHyhQfqK8jUMmepQs7rcq2irLO20jKI3mh1_eFiIuiWSXa6ps/s3500/Ce%CC%81cilia%20smiling.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2333" data-original-width="3500" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEISCbu0OCEfDUlw7c8Xf1wGBmFZDnsCvBAbYeKIzKGMV_kMHJjgt4TP5cd380nnhW49sCys4NNC41AQW-minWBEss41CP2smRTFEcJFrwhxzHQsSSKEmB2FHkkU5hRBDu4k2-9kRWwPkHyhQfqK8jUMmepQs7rcq2irLO20jKI3mh1_eFiIuiWSXa6ps/w400-h266/Ce%CC%81cilia%20smiling.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4kQG5pn9e8vPUKbUMTwl-ua8RRapQGG5vFivbm_DlcdM3gDMRNMJc6-fcuisHPbSXbnEvaJqrXLYMRA0VAqa_B_1Kq4ix9xA5B9CNv9jPzuKJ8sf1W51W1WwONiZE6Eymqxe0_70U7yJCP-wzFxnNN6msVI4I3f6CCqoXUYeDXAK_lE-KncnFu0vThn8/s600/Florence_Price_(cropped).jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="600" data-original-width="470" height="178" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4kQG5pn9e8vPUKbUMTwl-ua8RRapQGG5vFivbm_DlcdM3gDMRNMJc6-fcuisHPbSXbnEvaJqrXLYMRA0VAqa_B_1Kq4ix9xA5B9CNv9jPzuKJ8sf1W51W1WwONiZE6Eymqxe0_70U7yJCP-wzFxnNN6msVI4I3f6CCqoXUYeDXAK_lE-KncnFu0vThn8/w157-h200/Florence_Price_(cropped).jpg" width="140" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Florence Price.</td></tr></tbody></table>The concert had begun with Florence Price’s <i>Concert Overture No. 2</i>, written in 1943, but only rediscovered in 2009 amongst the trove of many of her once-lost works unearthed in St. Anne, Illinois at her former summer home, by then derelict.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">The <i>Concert Overture No. 2's</i> B minor tonality and overall mood of nostalgic longing made it an appropriate opener to precede the <i>Cello Concerto</i>, but as a not notably inventive meditation on the spirituals “Go Down Moses,” “Ev’ry Time I Feel the Spirit,” and “Nobody Knows the Trouble I’ve Seen,” the Overture seemed over-extended at nearly a quarter-hour.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6aWgFYLo809DY1PBfpUwpZ2yj5GWheUwX9ZoKdpmHJRruUCBJiAkCC007oh344p3pvb96lVCFNbU2H1Mo0WaRC66B_QOkpIRusaUj5scJkjzeg5AriWnCq20rLPet9Q9GwwaOer52XyA67B2T-b3b68yRT1PwSisZPYcG8I6ug_BKXo3Prg8dO1cOS9w/s3500/Eckart%20and%20Klaus%20Peter.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3500" data-original-width="2333" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6aWgFYLo809DY1PBfpUwpZ2yj5GWheUwX9ZoKdpmHJRruUCBJiAkCC007oh344p3pvb96lVCFNbU2H1Mo0WaRC66B_QOkpIRusaUj5scJkjzeg5AriWnCq20rLPet9Q9GwwaOer52XyA67B2T-b3b68yRT1PwSisZPYcG8I6ug_BKXo3Prg8dO1cOS9w/w133-h200/Eckart%20and%20Klaus%20Peter.jpg" width="133" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Eckart Preu and <br />Hans Peter Preu.</td></tr></tbody></table>The sole work programmed for the second half was Maurice Ravel’s celebrated orchestration of Modest Mussorgsky’s <i>Pictures at an Exhibition</i>, enhanced on this occasion by the projection of Viktor Hartmann’s pictures on a screen above the orchestra. Before this, however, from the podium Maestro Preu announced that there would be an extra surprise item.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">His elder brother, the composer and arranger Hans Peter Preu, was visiting from Germany, and Eckart had invited him to write a piece for this concert, given the availability of the large forces required for Mussorgsky's <i>Pictures</i> and suggesting that a comparable treatment of a visual subject would be appropriate.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBr8bmtOjpOgdM435QNppEZzDGHEeXyP35bK65yAuteEKFW3KtdtMbz2376v_TA91GoO2w2_2vhkOkHMDQBiZG1Nli3KbscRgDYc7Jp-7rACUKMS_QarR6U6rBRnvLQ2h-Ax_ch4TFMgS3w6rpWuUKe2PCxQhtY5TQDHnYNcP9_KLSz15Big2wTOeTC4Q/s1560/The_Great_Red_Dragon_and_the_Woman_Clothed_with_the_Sun.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1560" data-original-width="1237" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBr8bmtOjpOgdM435QNppEZzDGHEeXyP35bK65yAuteEKFW3KtdtMbz2376v_TA91GoO2w2_2vhkOkHMDQBiZG1Nli3KbscRgDYc7Jp-7rACUKMS_QarR6U6rBRnvLQ2h-Ax_ch4TFMgS3w6rpWuUKe2PCxQhtY5TQDHnYNcP9_KLSz15Big2wTOeTC4Q/s320/The_Great_Red_Dragon_and_the_Woman_Clothed_with_the_Sun.jpg" width="254" /></a></div>The result was <i>The Great Red Dragon and the Woman Clothed with the Sun, </i>inspired by William Blake’s watercolor illustration (<i>left</i>) for the Book of Revelation.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">Hans Peter Preu’s musical depiction really did justice to the weirdness of Blake's vision, and the LBSO responded whole-heartedly to his five minutes of apocalyptic orchestral mayhem—full of almost Messiaenic gong-and-gamelan sonorities—under the direction of the composer and with the Lovecraftian figure of the Dragon looming over them from the screen above. The audience, too, enthusiastically applauded what for many must have been an unexpectedly Modernist score.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><i>Pictures at an Exhibition</i> has been orchestrated by so many other people besides Ravel that, given how often the latter's arrangement appears on concert programs, it would be good once in a while to hear one of those different alternatives—my money would be on Sir Henry Wood’s even more opulent take on the piece, while any planner looking for a slightly shorter item could well think about Stokowski’s version, which omits two of the <i>Pictures</i>. </div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhX4L86iEa0zha-aFnd1GS1TokveBt_zKIVwUp31Wkx2ZsHqx47aJ0Bty1LRPfMbS6fQ2fHpOthDaZ5A5TdScuUsDed9Hr3bGPCDSNtJxW-1Twh3uB4vbm1xiSXGrXIsn8ASDpB09NoinU4e8SzmmJGTFidGU1_uTSZK8egBOGCIv-UrsAne4LHKFIu1yM/s740/Mussorgsky%20&%20Ravel%20SLSO.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="481" data-original-width="740" height="208" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhX4L86iEa0zha-aFnd1GS1TokveBt_zKIVwUp31Wkx2ZsHqx47aJ0Bty1LRPfMbS6fQ2fHpOthDaZ5A5TdScuUsDed9Hr3bGPCDSNtJxW-1Twh3uB4vbm1xiSXGrXIsn8ASDpB09NoinU4e8SzmmJGTFidGU1_uTSZK8egBOGCIv-UrsAne4LHKFIu1yM/s320/Mussorgsky%20&%20Ravel%20SLSO.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Modest Mussorgsky (<i>left</i>); Maurice Ravel (<i>right</i>).</td></tr></tbody></table>Nevertheless, Mussorgsky/ Ravel it was and of course the combination of the former’s vividly original responses to his friend Hartmann’s drawings and watercolors and Ravel’s boundless resource of orchestral color once again beguiled and thrilled, from the latter’s subtly differing treatments of the opening <i>Promenade</i> as it recurs between the first few images to the signal grandeur of <i>X The Great Gate of Kiev.</i> </div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhv7ZvKkf4xhyphenhyphenCsos6J_aL-BG5DN_FmPfhdM8cddEYCny3hH39oSM9wKQ_pv7Paqd_YDEUXRLcHFwRKL6_iSej3wCs3APJBmyjw-hZWCjyYtKUAecmiXUnWd_1X3jjM5L4qlQMr88tyjraUaEwhEdz_wvEtrW3bEkXJ-MPwj8duGtuzjIkgU5W51PbTiwU/s868/Hartmann_--_Plan_for_a_City_Gate.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="868" data-original-width="641" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhv7ZvKkf4xhyphenhyphenCsos6J_aL-BG5DN_FmPfhdM8cddEYCny3hH39oSM9wKQ_pv7Paqd_YDEUXRLcHFwRKL6_iSej3wCs3APJBmyjw-hZWCjyYtKUAecmiXUnWd_1X3jjM5L4qlQMr88tyjraUaEwhEdz_wvEtrW3bEkXJ-MPwj8duGtuzjIkgU5W51PbTiwU/s320/Hartmann_--_Plan_for_a_City_Gate.jpg" width="236" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Viktor Hartmann's design for the <br />Bogatyr Gates at Kiev (Kyiv).</td></tr></tbody></table>And as we listened from <i>I Gnomus</i> and <i>II The Old Castle</i> through to that conclusion so we were also able to see projected, in some cases, the definitively identified original images that inspired the music (<i>e.g.</i> <i>The Great Gate of Kiev (left)</i> and <i>V The Ballet of the Unhatched Chicks </i>(<i>below))</i>, and in others an imaginative selection from Hartmann’s surviving output of artworks that made a plausible accompaniment to the music.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">The last time I heard the Mussorgsky/ Ravel <i>Pictures</i> live was by no lesser forces than the Chicago Symphony Orchestra under Riccardo Muti (<a href="https://www.laopus.com/2023/01/muti-and-cso-play-beethoven-lyadov-and.html">reviewed here</a>), but by comparison the Long Beach Symphony and Maestro Preu were by no means outshone. The near-capacity audience responded appropriately on its feet, and overall this quite splendid concert made one look forward even more to the two remaining blockbuster programs in the LBSO’s 2023-24 season: The Brahms <i>German Requiem</i> preceded by an orchestral piece from the contemporary Frenchman Guillaume Connesson and Vaughan Williams’ delectable <i>Serenade to</i> Music <a href="https://longbeachsymphony.org/concerts-events/2023-2024-brahms-requiem/">on March 9</a>; and Bruckner’s <i>Fourth Symphony</i> and Tchaikovsky’s <i>Piano Concerto No. 1</i> <a href="https://longbeachsymphony.org/concerts-events/2023-2024-tchaikovsky-piano-concerto-no-1/">on June 1</a>: will it really work with those two pieces in that order? We’ll see!</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwGHNqcFRaNBbpbK4qEtgaUCDy7NQrg_2FtaqoI_Q7ftNYjqBhBB_Isx_VYdsPeMZTmEtv7D6qom0OnnWeAxIXsghyphenhyphenbcwYTks_Ho310U5CVH73Ehx0NrOCIBvwKK1Hc91n6dkTmdQSIwDP-ZgYWjDPw_pk6RkRSxQnGimpr-lV1fYRBw6F1AK2xyzbSII/s3500/Ballet%20of%20the%20Unhatched%20Chicks.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2333" data-original-width="3500" height="346" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwGHNqcFRaNBbpbK4qEtgaUCDy7NQrg_2FtaqoI_Q7ftNYjqBhBB_Isx_VYdsPeMZTmEtv7D6qom0OnnWeAxIXsghyphenhyphenbcwYTks_Ho310U5CVH73Ehx0NrOCIBvwKK1Hc91n6dkTmdQSIwDP-ZgYWjDPw_pk6RkRSxQnGimpr-lV1fYRBw6F1AK2xyzbSII/w640-h426/Ballet%20of%20the%20Unhatched%20Chicks.jpg" width="520" /></a></div><br /><div style="text-align: center;">---ooo---</div><div><br /></div><div>Long Beach Symphony Orchestra, Terrace Theater, Beverly O'Neill Performing Arts Center, Long Beach, Saturday, February 17, 2024, 8 p.m.</div><div>Images: The performance: Caught in the Moment Photography; Dvořák portrait, Florence Price, Blake’s Great Red Dragon, Hartmann’s Plan for a City Gate: Wikimedia Commons; Dvořák plaque: Yelp; Dvořák family: Czech National Museum; Mussorgsky & Ravel: Courtesy St. Louis Symphony Orchestra.
</div><div><br /></div><i>If you found this review to be useful, interesting, or informative, please feel free to <b><a href="https://www.buymeacoffee.com/davidjbrown10">Buy Me A Coffee</a></b>!</i>David J Brownhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08224977724583670873noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9194809435670809838.post-46277613540564800732024-02-21T23:32:00.000-08:002024-02-25T08:07:01.029-08:00USC Prizewinning String Quartet Debut at Second Sunday<br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1WU5NN16-9vuesBMq0e8gscUNmpgM3Lo5Itz83VJuNkAK95G4pFEPXIo7_wns_LPhoe4foz4x3fwOx_INUqSahA641jktPqCg_wJ73kdl0gUdeD1U_mbqiXcoXjg_RZyUqCgNHENGGs25FnCv8krVsjrRfu51Yya6SB0bXxqOUT6ziAtE0mwG9B3YYTA/s1920/Screenshot%202024-02-20%20at%202.48.39%E2%80%AFPM.png" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1080" data-original-width="1920" height="293" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1WU5NN16-9vuesBMq0e8gscUNmpgM3Lo5Itz83VJuNkAK95G4pFEPXIo7_wns_LPhoe4foz4x3fwOx_INUqSahA641jktPqCg_wJ73kdl0gUdeD1U_mbqiXcoXjg_RZyUqCgNHENGGs25FnCv8krVsjrRfu51Yya6SB0bXxqOUT6ziAtE0mwG9B3YYTA/w640-h360/Screenshot%202024-02-20%20at%202.48.39%E2%80%AFPM.png" width="520" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Marzipan Quartet: <i>l-r</i> Veronika Manchur, Agatha Blevin, Gloria Choi, Joseph Kim.</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><div>REVIEW </div><div><br /></div><div>Marzipan Quartet, Second Sundays at Two, Rolling Hills United Methodist Church</div><div>DAVID J BROWN</div><div><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><a href="http://www.palosverdes.com/classicalcrossroads/ ">Classical Crossroads Inc.</a> rewards chamber music aficianados here in the South Bay not only with many programs by well-known locally-based performers and distinguished guests from Europe and elsewhere, but also from new young artists of exceptional merit. The latest of these to be debuted in the “Second Sundays at Two” series (actually in this instance the third Sunday in February, for scheduling reasons) were four members of USC Thornton School of Music’s graduate program, and collectively the winner of USC’s 2023 Ofiesh Quartet Competition.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">The Marzipan Quartet (Veronika Manchur and Agatha Blevin, violins; Gloria Choi, viola; Joseph Kim, cello) presented two string quartets, written not quite a century apart, from Joseph Haydn and Antonín Dvořák—masters of the medium in the autumn of their respective composing careers but still at the height of their powers. First up was Haydn’s <i>String Quartet No. 62 in C Major (Kaiserquartett), Op. 76 No. 3, Hob. III:77</i>, written like its five companion works of that opus in 1796-97, when Haydn was around 65.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">From its outset, the Marzipans’ account of the <i>Allegro</i> first movement (with exposition repeat observed) was sprightly, rhythmically crisp, and responsive to Haydn’s rapid shifts in dynamic and texture, with Ms. Choi and Mr. Kim seeming to particularly relish the drone effect in the bass with which Haydn varies and enriches the recapitulation.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwIbL1nFeRdz4roYLfJwkAUuvVGmG8hsGYjBUX5SjH8ub3yPYBU8KzzJwMTjhU62GFi9xEfUPGIvFbb00piAWCpmtFOZMF8JWAOm3sHIn0j8hvLL0FOzSkOQn0q8310UF0TAyCbSD4XUKY3KYlb97fI8xDPgzKvnFwmUoUQKCQukW4_mOw7XrQKgDoV44/s1264/Haydn.jpg" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1264" data-original-width="1000" height="220" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwIbL1nFeRdz4roYLfJwkAUuvVGmG8hsGYjBUX5SjH8ub3yPYBU8KzzJwMTjhU62GFi9xEfUPGIvFbb00piAWCpmtFOZMF8JWAOm3sHIn0j8hvLL0FOzSkOQn0q8310UF0TAyCbSD4XUKY3KYlb97fI8xDPgzKvnFwmUoUQKCQukW4_mOw7XrQKgDoV44/s320/Haydn.jpg" width="174" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Joseph Haydn.</td></tr></tbody></table>In the <i>Poco adagio</i> slow movement, the initial statement of the “Emperor” theme—derived from Haydn’s anthem for Emperor Francis II that later became the German national anthem—was as serene and prayerful as its marking and <i>piano</i> dynamic implied, while in the succeeding four variations each player in turn seized the various expressive opportunities that Haydn’s careful allotting of prominence supplies.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">The <i>Menuetto</i>, distinctly robust in the hands of the Marzipan Quartet, was effectively contrasted with the withdrawn and thoughtful <i>Trio</i>, and followed by a finale as vigorous as its <i>Presto</i> marking required. Throughout the performance the players’ attention to each other—as close as many a far more seasoned ensemble—paid dividends in elucidating Haydn’s inexhaustible textural variety and contrapuntal inventiveness.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">It was a happy coincidence to be able to hear live, just one day after a fine performance of Dvořák’s <i>Cello Concerto in B Minor</i> at Long Beach Symphony (<a href="https://www.laopus.com/2024/02/dvorak-mussorgskyravel-and-price-at.html">reviewed here</a>), another of his “American” works, the <i>String Quartet No. 12 in F Major, Op. 96, B.179</i>. Dvořák was Director of the National Conservatory in New York City from 1892 to 1895, and he wrote this quartet over just 16 days during his 1893 summer vacation at a Czech community in Spillville, Iowa.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">In a letter he averred “<i>… I wanted to write something for once that was very melodious and straightforward, and dear Papa Haydn kept appearing before my eyes, and that is why it all turned out so simply. And it’s good that it did.</i>” Whether or not this <i>“American” Quartet </i>has specific influences or actual quotations from native American or African-American music has been argued inconclusively, but about its immediacy and memorability there is no doubt, and the Marzipan Quartet did it proud.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjsp8-4MwwkA2YYTuhgNc-DMeuGWrEv5TS3kijrr25Wt5Gkz7Bz9kiPbtQIBfb7esuBbCTYBnftchhoniwzPDBZImxjOfgJIUe2rZzVMG2L676vM-gDTfcDugAQvKR8Xcb11CBgECTWDoAnQTHJrFUyKk-k1P9lT9lTPncAMej5Xaq8Co8acqMSOnhyphenhyphen4bU/s1166/Dvorak%20in%20NY%201893.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1166" data-original-width="1090" height="215" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjsp8-4MwwkA2YYTuhgNc-DMeuGWrEv5TS3kijrr25Wt5Gkz7Bz9kiPbtQIBfb7esuBbCTYBnftchhoniwzPDBZImxjOfgJIUe2rZzVMG2L676vM-gDTfcDugAQvKR8Xcb11CBgECTWDoAnQTHJrFUyKk-k1P9lT9lTPncAMej5Xaq8Co8acqMSOnhyphenhyphen4bU/s320/Dvorak%20in%20NY%201893.jpg" width="200" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Dvořák in New York in 1893.</td></tr></tbody></table>Ms. Manchur and Ms. Blevin gave the first movement’s t<i>remolando</i> opening just the right blend of slight hesitancy and hushed anticipation, out of which strode the <i>mezzoforte</i> main theme, at once forthright and measured in pace, on Ms. Choi’s viola. Another plus point was the inclusion of the oft-omitted exposition repeat—who would not want a second chance to hear such delectable music?</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">For all the <i>“American” Quartet</i>’s pervasive melodic appeal, it rarely proceeds as a simplistic “tune + accompaniment.” In this outwardly “straightforward” work Dvořák’s four-part writing is as inventive and resourceful as ever, and the Marzipans’ attentiveness revealed as many inner textural delights as it did surface beauties.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">In all of chamber music literature, is there a single movement more devastatingly single-minded in its emotional directness than this quartet’s miraculous <i>Lento</i>? I can’t think of one, and in their performance the Marzipan Quartet faultlessly traced its seamless melodic arc, the standout amongst standouts perhaps being the cello’s restatement of the main theme, with Mr. Kim’s instrument soaring like a bird in flight through its highest register.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">For all its <i>Molto vivace</i> marking, the scherzo is somewhat subdued in effect, its trio section—unmarked as such—being a minor-key variant of the main scherzo motif. However, there is nothing equivocal about the Finale, pervaded by an infectious <i>ostinato staccato</i> rhythm sometimes thought to reflect Dvořák’s well-attested love of trains. Certainly, this movement had plenty of locomotive energy in the Marzipans’ hands, though not neglecting the reflective contrast of its brief <i>Meno mosso</i> intercalations.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">All in all, this was a most impressive debut by four splendid musicians, but you don't have to take my word for it. <a href="https://vimeo.com/914565913">If you click here</a>, you can enjoy Classical Crossroads' recording of the recital's livestreamed transmission. Let's hope the Marzipan Quartet make many more local appearances.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiR1rOF9RgNJlWlWLMPN06-KXm82WRCA6q-F4ZvHi_QNEj8TQ-kCnK5NVspt4AcaY2VNj2_8opP2oyqzdUp2hlF5-AKPnfNe3f3XlkP6LCpqDvdLPko3EUuxq1LVv_AMgC8XwFglZ91ZjFNyyqku-VuncY0g8Ihg5x1Cx_PWp3FG0wJqEebZOM_oFBPqYc/s1920/Screenshot%202024-02-22%20at%2012.21.56%E2%80%AFPM.png" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1080" data-original-width="1920" height="293" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiR1rOF9RgNJlWlWLMPN06-KXm82WRCA6q-F4ZvHi_QNEj8TQ-kCnK5NVspt4AcaY2VNj2_8opP2oyqzdUp2hlF5-AKPnfNe3f3XlkP6LCpqDvdLPko3EUuxq1LVv_AMgC8XwFglZ91ZjFNyyqku-VuncY0g8Ihg5x1Cx_PWp3FG0wJqEebZOM_oFBPqYc/w640-h360/Screenshot%202024-02-22%20at%2012.21.56%E2%80%AFPM.png" width="520" /></a></div><br /><div style="text-align: center;">---ooo---</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">Rolling Hills United Methodist Church, Torrance, Sunday, February 18, 2024, 2.00 p.m. </div><div style="text-align: left;">Images: The performance: Classical Crossroads; Haydn: Wikimedia Commons; Dvořák: robertgreenburgmusic.com.
</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><i>If you found this review to be useful, interesting, or informative, please feel free to <b><a href="https://www.buymeacoffee.com/davidjbrown10">Buy Me A Coffee</a></b>!</i>David J Brownhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08224977724583670873noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9194809435670809838.post-79171359639610950272024-02-21T13:05:00.000-08:002024-02-24T11:31:29.088-08:00The House That Music Built<br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjq4Uqg-NcIYh20sYsG4A75rRJX3EbtFYFkB90MlC419WDwP7XhAxHePDYVdPuep8sD-xfC3sm9TipzjP25nNhjV7vYsydNoiIDT4VIjqpPCC8SUDy5TbON7tScXAIAn9a-7BETv1_rqxsLPMXN3DWUcnpa0WhQNmWStWvXdbpcExLabH_mdbUxsWmVuqc/s2048/IMG_0666.jpeg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1407" data-original-width="2048" height="358" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjq4Uqg-NcIYh20sYsG4A75rRJX3EbtFYFkB90MlC419WDwP7XhAxHePDYVdPuep8sD-xfC3sm9TipzjP25nNhjV7vYsydNoiIDT4VIjqpPCC8SUDy5TbON7tScXAIAn9a-7BETv1_rqxsLPMXN3DWUcnpa0WhQNmWStWvXdbpcExLabH_mdbUxsWmVuqc/w640-h440/IMG_0666.jpeg" width="520" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Todd Mason (<i>second left</i>) with members of the Los Angeles Wind Sextet (<i>l-r</i>: Susan Greenberg, flute; Jennifer Johnson Cullinan, oboe; Judith Farmer, bassoon; Kevin Fitz-Gerald, piano; Sara Bach, horn; Sergio Coehlo, clarinet)—Mason Concert, Saturday, March 5, 2022.</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><div><b>TODD MASON</b></div><div><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5f3bbuA0OSDv46Bl3t8FvOW-6dDBvJ55vqCrh8hBMKiZwZ6HudmFuOztBeMPC4fAKmZ1pEdAN2uZ8KSnzSz9dB3yyNG76UfPw6yUCb2fO8r2y5K6VaeAvyGRgQTkCm4g2mhnDbDnsA8JcK06i26wmIDU_3jmDkv70IrUbVusOHQat7vdvs7DSApTu3KU/s585/IMG_0675.jpeg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="533" data-original-width="585" height="91" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5f3bbuA0OSDv46Bl3t8FvOW-6dDBvJ55vqCrh8hBMKiZwZ6HudmFuOztBeMPC4fAKmZ1pEdAN2uZ8KSnzSz9dB3yyNG76UfPw6yUCb2fO8r2y5K6VaeAvyGRgQTkCm4g2mhnDbDnsA8JcK06i26wmIDU_3jmDkv70IrUbVusOHQat7vdvs7DSApTu3KU/s320/IMG_0675.jpeg" width="100" /></a></div>This month marks 10 years for our home chamber music series in West LA called <a href="https://masonconcerts.org/">Mason Concerts</a>, featuring many of the best classical musicians in Southern California. The occasion inspired me to take a moment and look back—and the fact is that we have gone far beyond what we even imagined a decade ago. This series has been an extraordinary journey of drama, dreams, hard work... and the most wonderful music. And now it sometimes feels like I have a tiger by the tail, because so many amazing musicians and guests want to participate in upcoming seasons.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0OAbr-_xpbeqqOYEagqr4TOJOiqkxuTl4U17YBIRNuzeorVrbEYXi5WbItoMsoms6KFYJPFlI9tSpiP5RH2EQgJjxwEqpMD7ew1gZ1GHkdldOAVbcR2Dn5r9EjYQHIkdKvv-Qzd2Jh344adtqne0OOPv7RT4W4Z0vqgdpkDt0en1AVCQmbtkHEN2vqLA/s1229/S01%202.jpeg" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1050" data-original-width="1229" height="256" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0OAbr-_xpbeqqOYEagqr4TOJOiqkxuTl4U17YBIRNuzeorVrbEYXi5WbItoMsoms6KFYJPFlI9tSpiP5RH2EQgJjxwEqpMD7ew1gZ1GHkdldOAVbcR2Dn5r9EjYQHIkdKvv-Qzd2Jh344adtqne0OOPv7RT4W4Z0vqgdpkDt0en1AVCQmbtkHEN2vqLA/s320/S01%202.jpeg" width="300" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Part of the blueprint for remodeling Mason House.</td></tr></tbody></table>Almost my whole life has been with music, beginning in the 3rd grade with my first composition and then starting a chamber orchestra in high school while I studied composition at USC. Then, in the 1980s, I graduated from Juilliard as a composer after studying with Elliott Carter, so chamber music of course was in my bones.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">One of the reasons my late wife, Robin, and I started this series was because we had been to many chamber concerts in small halls and some homes and always felt that the settings could be improved: by having better acoustics and, perhaps, made more intimate, with less distance between musicians and audience. So often a kind of invisible "glass wall" separates them, and they never actually feel in the presence and spirit of each other. There is often a lack of what I call “circular energy.”</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">To enhance the experience, we also wanted to add engaging preconcert talks and encourage the musicians say a few things about the music and their approach to performing; also maybe, talk to our audience members afterward, and with good food as well. We wanted each concert to be a complete evening—an event—not just an hour of music.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><b>Getting it done!</b></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBvJBXSkcHaebz7PQ23vOJcbdyfyShnbu-oOZw2WDT4p2ynQoo2T3umo2_ZNQVZ4ERv1f4nYPzcoxdvTaZ30HmHvqMdcHsG-7gCpNRtLS3lFz-oLV7bEuMXUuHZdApl1DXXnhF9Sz1nXyL8ALmsWJgZFYMHcIcJKJjaV8OTMovcT8bAx2WlGI0u1FBsWY/s1903/S03.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1007" data-original-width="1903" height="211" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBvJBXSkcHaebz7PQ23vOJcbdyfyShnbu-oOZw2WDT4p2ynQoo2T3umo2_ZNQVZ4ERv1f4nYPzcoxdvTaZ30HmHvqMdcHsG-7gCpNRtLS3lFz-oLV7bEuMXUuHZdApl1DXXnhF9Sz1nXyL8ALmsWJgZFYMHcIcJKJjaV8OTMovcT8bAx2WlGI0u1FBsWY/w400-h211/S03.jpeg" width="400" /></a></div><br />All good. That was the easy part. But we needed a good space. That was the hard part! However, we were in any case looking to remodel our old Mar Vista house, so we upped the ante and decided to make the main living room into a larger, acoustically excellent, concert room, designed specifically for chamber music. We researched this a lot and found special materials to block outside noise, and even hired an acoustician to talk to the architect about the best interior angles.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtLWd_bwNOwFGLjjrZe_JfLEQNP0bC0xKS5-XXiM_6MmlSv6jcZMaAqTeXv72A340pLEFPH9qL-Hw7ZOn4_BEIgjKiOnlgwmR4aA2hSVPD2oTnnXrIAR982TlwqR3fS1nX37eHrdJo4ld9VgErsMtAvI80C9nSG9tjwUGPbmIOqqMZDziLL6MaXqvVBSM/s1773/S02.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1773" height="203" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtLWd_bwNOwFGLjjrZe_JfLEQNP0bC0xKS5-XXiM_6MmlSv6jcZMaAqTeXv72A340pLEFPH9qL-Hw7ZOn4_BEIgjKiOnlgwmR4aA2hSVPD2oTnnXrIAR982TlwqR3fS1nX37eHrdJo4ld9VgErsMtAvI80C9nSG9tjwUGPbmIOqqMZDziLL6MaXqvVBSM/w400-h203/S02.jpeg" width="400" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgB22s6D0iaTF1zYZhk3izDmB7aks6UtfGP0NJ29WH5KiB35CeTXm9j4fjSodzHkCm6eTlEvSGujtjRm6wuyHJJhkdKMYbeBgh_86DBrpGSf3CEGt79FjkiktGqvb058HFpkiVk2HwdFtDoTwdjcI4DPxdqdBbPyJPhRJJwV9LkoVoJIxenMEbmgSf6Ih0/s1887/S05.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="992" data-original-width="1887" height="210" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgB22s6D0iaTF1zYZhk3izDmB7aks6UtfGP0NJ29WH5KiB35CeTXm9j4fjSodzHkCm6eTlEvSGujtjRm6wuyHJJhkdKMYbeBgh_86DBrpGSf3CEGt79FjkiktGqvb058HFpkiVk2HwdFtDoTwdjcI4DPxdqdBbPyJPhRJJwV9LkoVoJIxenMEbmgSf6Ih0/w400-h210/S05.jpeg" width="400" /></a></div><br />We used special materials on the inside to achieve a very pleasant reverberation, almost as if guests could feel that they were part of the group that was performing. We even chose a special kind of wood called Alder (<i>above</i>)—often used in larger concert halls for a warm sound—for the walls and the ceiling, with a special harder oak for the floors.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-tVRtQj26RAU27hNE187UaMqLHreIJTf_BqRkPhe4hf6ym68jhijwHhmR-vg5PtgI-yexXU4lPEJJuvhJgS4BDZy7tRzmaHYEMKw-2PvV9M7dyWb0anvtbgfUbzhVijqZzcjp_C-oZFYETXFwhJvr7fzom3Pz5tfEcqAFExaw_g8plNkGVQ8hyb-tDYk/s1465/Argus.jpeg" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1465" data-original-width="856" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-tVRtQj26RAU27hNE187UaMqLHreIJTf_BqRkPhe4hf6ym68jhijwHhmR-vg5PtgI-yexXU4lPEJJuvhJgS4BDZy7tRzmaHYEMKw-2PvV9M7dyWb0anvtbgfUbzhVijqZzcjp_C-oZFYETXFwhJvr7fzom3Pz5tfEcqAFExaw_g8plNkGVQ8hyb-tDYk/s320/Argus.jpeg" width="187" /></a></div>Our first official event, on February 16, 2014, was “A Concert of Firsts” (<i>poster, right</i>). That was the debut concert for the newly-formed <a href="https://www.argusquartet.com/">Argus Quartet</a>, who went on to perform all over the country. They were, and are, a superb ensemble. So, after the excitement of that first concert someone asked “<i>what’s next in your series?</i>” Actually, I had no idea at the time, so we invited the Argus back and went on from there...</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">After a few more concerts with some of the graduates from the impressive <a href="https://music.usc.edu/">USC Thornton School of Music</a>, USC wrote an article about our series—<a href="https://music.usc.edu/spotlights/a-musical-home-away-from-home/">A Musical Home Away From Home</a>—and then there was no turning back. More groups contacted me and more guests wanted to experience this new series.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">Sadly, my wonderful wife of 33 years lost her battle with cancer in 2015 so I obviously couldn’t continue having concerts at our home and even considered stopping the series. And, besides, how could I produce those concerts by myself? Robin had been a major force in getting it all going with her inextinguishable enthusiasm. But the most amazing thing happened: many musicians encouraged me to continue, even helping with PR and finding more players. A family friend stepped in and said she’d handle the food and even some neighbors began to help with time and contributions—running a good series requires lots of planning and often additional funding to pull off successfully. So, I ultimately was able to continue and the series has now become very successful indeed.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><b>Ten years' achievement</b></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwG-1lmUrazGPBkXKOvrzTUFsJ_6hMHBqj_PCKaz0OuwAjg75_IyjyHctFPUul2BXxQzQMWEnkvU4pLC2CRKFSpJMsQDiAxKLnwAFxd3fh20EUHpIa8iMd39VjQKUKcToAY7oR0el32TBtxAEnEPRng65wzn6F38OTvzToxg382cNE1kdcWSZjHhs_NnQ/s1635/IMG_0658.jpeg" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="499" data-original-width="1635" height="165" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwG-1lmUrazGPBkXKOvrzTUFsJ_6hMHBqj_PCKaz0OuwAjg75_IyjyHctFPUul2BXxQzQMWEnkvU4pLC2CRKFSpJMsQDiAxKLnwAFxd3fh20EUHpIa8iMd39VjQKUKcToAY7oR0el32TBtxAEnEPRng65wzn6F38OTvzToxg382cNE1kdcWSZjHhs_NnQ/w640-h196/IMG_0658.jpeg" width="540" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Diana Wade, violist of the early Argus Quartet talking about Haydn in 2016.</td></tr></tbody></table><br />The last decade has seen some 50 concerts, featuring many great 19th century masterpieces, lesser-known hidden gems, lots of 20th century music, and many new works too, including one experimental piece that added clothes pins to some of the piano strings and had rolling steel balls on the floor. And of course many of my own works have been featured, which has been invaluable to me as an active composer. In addition to the regular listed series, we’ve had special video screenings of some of my larger works for full orchestra, like my recent <i><a href="https://www.ulyssesarts.com/the-ua-blog/todd-mason-violin-concerto-chamber-suite-29-sep-2023">Violin Concerto</a></i> with the Dutch virtuoso <a href="https://toscaopdam.com/home">Tosca Opdam</a>, and my new choral/orchestral work, <i>Lux Aeterna</i>.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEuhyphenhyphenX604MRPyUxN6i7zV0kSrFD545uUcN4kLvV-URf306hgwD01jhZi23lKmjbtDbeT33cbRJZMXvSSEkfJZQDfHq5IYsJk1sGFQnhIVS9rJhIbBinS28eXfjzn5KBYYHxFtQ8qnwOT777aMudKihcbqQNBPLcc4CyZZQ795NOPc15zFdquCS3QfU9wA/s1080/ethel.jpg" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="947" data-original-width="1080" height="281" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEuhyphenhyphenX604MRPyUxN6i7zV0kSrFD545uUcN4kLvV-URf306hgwD01jhZi23lKmjbtDbeT33cbRJZMXvSSEkfJZQDfHq5IYsJk1sGFQnhIVS9rJhIbBinS28eXfjzn5KBYYHxFtQ8qnwOT777aMudKihcbqQNBPLcc4CyZZQ795NOPc15zFdquCS3QfU9wA/s320/ethel.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>Our long-time family friend, Ethel Phipps (<i>right</i>), deserves a very special mention here. She has contributed all the wonderful food—in copious quantities—for this series for the entire 10 years! There's always a delicious "main course" with abundant hors d’oeuvres, and desserts. She is a big part of what makes these concerts “events.”</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">I can’t say enough about how perfect Los Angeles is for all this, with so many world-class studio musicians and also superb music schools like UCLA, USC, and Colburn. LA's general musical DNA has attracted many greats over the years, like Stravinsky and Heifetz, not to mention the most famous film composers of all time, and we have truly great symphony orchestras. All this has given us one of the best traditions and current pools of classical musicians anywhere in the world.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfjy1Hd8NDK-K122fSQ_pddfFIfx8Ej3rz6UpWo7eggBRbX_pFkWlGUseLU2cAtz7hJRtM28zgTvfbB2KvReCr8A7pcbkngz91QNRmNonNfN7oyUuzlKSXKcJ97CfR7k1ts55zfMj1MffpMON6tqqF7cs5QDlP9Okl82JuwJc1YUTevrC-HM5j6GCT_YI/s1005/IMG_0665.jpeg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1005" data-original-width="910" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfjy1Hd8NDK-K122fSQ_pddfFIfx8Ej3rz6UpWo7eggBRbX_pFkWlGUseLU2cAtz7hJRtM28zgTvfbB2KvReCr8A7pcbkngz91QNRmNonNfN7oyUuzlKSXKcJ97CfR7k1ts55zfMj1MffpMON6tqqF7cs5QDlP9Okl82JuwJc1YUTevrC-HM5j6GCT_YI/s320/IMG_0665.jpeg" width="290" /></a></div>In the last 10 years, we’ve featured top string quartets like the <a href="https://www.lyrisquartet.com/">Lyris</a> and the <a href="https://www.thezelterstringquartet.com/">Zelter</a>; many other leading ensembles such as the <a href="https://www.lastrowmusic.com/los-angeles-brass-quintet/">LA Brass Quintet</a>, <a href="https://www.duonovae.com/">Duo Novae</a> (Ambroise Aubrun and Kate Hamilton), the <a href="https://southpasadenan.com/los-angeles-piano-sextet-at-the-library/">LA Piano Sextet</a>, and the <a href="https://www.sakuracellos.com/">SAKURA Cello Quintet</a>; distinguished vocal soloists like LA Opera’s <a href="https://www.annaschubertsoprano.com/">Anna Schubert</a>; and top pianists—<a href="https://www.gloriachengpiano.com/">Gloria Cheng</a>, <a href="https://www.stevenvanhauwaert.com/">Steven Vanhauwaert</a> and <a href="https://vickiray.net/bio/">Vicki Ray,</a> among others. We've hosted the principal cellists of the LA Opera Orchestra (<a href="https://www.john-walz.com/">John Walz</a>), the LA Master Chorale and Long Beach Symphony (<a href="https://www.ceciliatsan.com/">Cécilia Tsan</a>), and the Hollywood Bowl Orchestra (<a href="https://www.feenotes.com/database/artists/karmazyn-dennis/">Dennis Karmazyn</a>); as well as the Concertmasters of the LA Opera Orchestra, <a href="https://robertocani.net/">Roberto Cani,</a> and LA Philharmonic, <a href="https://www.laphil.com/musicdb/artists/1027/martin-chalifour">Martin Chalifour</a>; and many other leading members of the LAPO and LBSO.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">By design we can only accommodate about 50 guests, but we’ve presented works ambitious enough for any house series including Bach's <i>Brandenburg Concertos</i>, Schubert's <i>Trout Quintet</i>, and Schönberg’s <i>Verklärte Nacht</i> with video projection accompanying the six string players. Our terrific preconcert speakers regularly include the LA Phil’s <a href="https://kristibrownmontesano.com/">Dr. Kristi Brown-Montesano</a> and David J. Brown (<a href="https://www.laopus.com/search?q=david+j+brown&max-results=20&by-date=true">LA Opus</a>). One person said after the <i>Trout Quintet</i>, “<i>I’ve heard that piece many times, but I think this is the only time I have really heard it, in a way, for the very first time.</i></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><i><br /></i></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><b>Now and to come</b></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><i><br /></i></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjAv5Z0FujeztBD05YYap51R-_0tBdjWtxMU8APa1sXZf4cYBaSpN5EdFVx2c1jK0r7ryYDNx-H6HJWTMQjXyZ6VH6ln9Kn0NF4EIYrVQm7v5917RHov7ZFBVjKw89kFdmR81JVjwEk9BctKQG15Ob7FVyGZtARWwKscBDD-3c6PcILpilDpDbm6B0mfvw/s4032/IMG_0575.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2477" data-original-width="4032" height="246" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjAv5Z0FujeztBD05YYap51R-_0tBdjWtxMU8APa1sXZf4cYBaSpN5EdFVx2c1jK0r7ryYDNx-H6HJWTMQjXyZ6VH6ln9Kn0NF4EIYrVQm7v5917RHov7ZFBVjKw89kFdmR81JVjwEk9BctKQG15Ob7FVyGZtARWwKscBDD-3c6PcILpilDpDbm6B0mfvw/w400-h246/IMG_0575.jpeg" width="400" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi75gMU2-P1Wx95zqufO3VRgYkIKdeGsFGUlDhG4-eGNrhaFgWyV0bfWOKsK1KJMnQF0IcsN8pp6gkmyPuT9clQi3Tl14c31OK_KnfppWfqz7DxT17ngEo7RjYb6VOnv7puefhcMVmC28vtZ_vhyphenhyphenVJXe7_fJqQ9TKSikyh2Hfsm3N-cohFO0DEpNvHNFb0/s3566/IMG_0685.jpeg" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2647" data-original-width="3566" height="149" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi75gMU2-P1Wx95zqufO3VRgYkIKdeGsFGUlDhG4-eGNrhaFgWyV0bfWOKsK1KJMnQF0IcsN8pp6gkmyPuT9clQi3Tl14c31OK_KnfppWfqz7DxT17ngEo7RjYb6VOnv7puefhcMVmC28vtZ_vhyphenhyphenVJXe7_fJqQ9TKSikyh2Hfsm3N-cohFO0DEpNvHNFb0/w200-h149/IMG_0685.jpeg" width="200" /></a></div>This has become a series that neither I nor Robin really could have imagined, and the most recent concert was no exception. Eva Schaumkell and Vijay Venkatesh as the <a href="https://www.vienesspianoduo.com/">Vieness Piano Duo</a> (<i>above</i>) gave—almost 10 years to the day after the Argus Quartet—one of the most enjoyable concerts to date.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">Their version of Ravel’s <i>Mother Goose Suite</i> was elegant and colorful, Eva Schaumkell played Rachmaninoff’s <i>Moments Musicaux</i> with such tenderness, and Vijay Venkatesh’s powerful rendition of the fiendishly difficult Bach-Busoni <i>Chaconne in D minor</i> filled the room with the brilliant sonorities of our Yamaha C7 (<i>above right</i>) and rattled the triple-paned windows! One guest remarked “<i>I’ve never heard a piano sound that colorful and powerful, almost like a full orchestra</i>.”</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTfrwRx5cpWDAg977bgHi3wjm3owcE6GmfCt-C6Jb7w9Y0Toh1jl46YV99w8OCHjGYLAL_1Ac-PcLc_8sC5r4PDqLx3iYfiOIhu6xcwhe_cbjSjV2Hh7OHLdLARKJzmAkdV3mivQkicb0FqcpAx48Sp56L0B4pFHfgxv35hrK5oy7PbWIpuG2pJILjkLw/s2575/IMG_0571.jpeg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2575" data-original-width="2243" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTfrwRx5cpWDAg977bgHi3wjm3owcE6GmfCt-C6Jb7w9Y0Toh1jl46YV99w8OCHjGYLAL_1Ac-PcLc_8sC5r4PDqLx3iYfiOIhu6xcwhe_cbjSjV2Hh7OHLdLARKJzmAkdV3mivQkicb0FqcpAx48Sp56L0B4pFHfgxv35hrK5oy7PbWIpuG2pJILjkLw/w278-h320/IMG_0571.jpeg" width="278" /></a></div>But the highlight of the evening was their performance of Saint-Saëns’ <i>The Carnival of the Animals</i>, with Dr. Kristi Brown-Montesano (<i>left</i>) reading the witty narration written by Ogden Nash in about seven different character voices, each one funnier than the last. This was such a popular concert that we have decided to do a repeat performance of it in our next season, which will run from January to May 2025. We already have a stellar line-up of top groups scheduled to appear in what will be our 11th season...</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><b>Thank you!</b></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">So I’m eternally thankful for all the help and encouragement I’ve received over the last 10 years, not to mention the world-class music that we’ve presented in ways that are so intimate and emotionally powerful. I must make a special mention of cellist Cécilia Tsan (<i>below right</i>), who in addition to her orchestra Principal roles noted above is also the Musical Director of Mount Wilson’s terrific Concerts in the Dome series. She has been one of our most popular musicians, has helped organize several concerts, and has devotedly premiered several of my own compositions!</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFbUd2Fl5rg2xKruSQbF9ruI_Q73CZ6eBC32eV_GJl4p8eie2BFNnjq1p1tvvho_FFWgyTECl_TzP_uRtIhFxQ301ZlsA3tieCWLTEBbzT_l2kEt6egOyxM3P1XMwP7219KTX4BECbPNRF6g1kqaSdjpwNfbvXs1Gm2zGEnU9iO6yyjypXYOCmiVz36sw/s1080/thumbnail%20copy.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="841" data-original-width="1080" height="249" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFbUd2Fl5rg2xKruSQbF9ruI_Q73CZ6eBC32eV_GJl4p8eie2BFNnjq1p1tvvho_FFWgyTECl_TzP_uRtIhFxQ301ZlsA3tieCWLTEBbzT_l2kEt6egOyxM3P1XMwP7219KTX4BECbPNRF6g1kqaSdjpwNfbvXs1Gm2zGEnU9iO6yyjypXYOCmiVz36sw/s320/thumbnail%20copy.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>l-r:</i> LAPO Concertmaster Martin Chalifour, <br />Victor de Almeida, Todd Mason, Dr. Kristi <br />Brown-Montesano, Cécilia Tsan, Rachel Mellis.</td></tr></tbody></table>I also want to add a special thanks to <a href="https://www.laopus.com/">LA Opus</a> for publishing this article and for so beautifully covering many of our concerts: specifically Rodney Punt (owner), and David J. Brown (managing editor) and John Stodder Jr. for many superbly written reviews.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">These have been so helpful in getting the word out so that even more people can experience and enjoy what classical chamber music is really all about—connecting people with the great composers’ deepest artistic expressions in the here and now, eliminating the barriers of distance and time. Because when music does its magic, it’s truly an elevating experience for all, connecting us to the most profound and exalted emotions we are capable of. </div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">---ooo---
</div>David J Brownhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08224977724583670873noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9194809435670809838.post-68560497016391998702024-01-27T13:43:00.000-08:002024-01-29T10:43:49.242-08:00Seattle Symphony Celebrates Asia with Quynh Nguyen<p> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjazj49sDAtdpqG08zp5H9-frW8NAW4d2OG__njwuRpOqKYntKQbDdaqVsf3IeyN_s7UGST29VmxxjsBNvdXUt0H2WcR_uxEdtsf4xFDSK6B49VYCtY0GgrebJG2Zo5RHZe7Ag2dSlZX_EGbLp0ojt-_nDWnkThVlU5cwklX6imb4DZCArRwZR7VRJHLfQ/s4093/Quynh%20Prof%20Photo%204%20Lisa%20Mazzucco.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2330" data-original-width="3275" height="228" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjazj49sDAtdpqG08zp5H9-frW8NAW4d2OG__njwuRpOqKYntKQbDdaqVsf3IeyN_s7UGST29VmxxjsBNvdXUt0H2WcR_uxEdtsf4xFDSK6B49VYCtY0GgrebJG2Zo5RHZe7Ag2dSlZX_EGbLp0ojt-_nDWnkThVlU5cwklX6imb4DZCArRwZR7VRJHLfQ/s320/Quynh%20Prof%20Photo%204%20Lisa%20Mazzucco.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div><p style="line-height: 1.8em; margin: 0px 0px 0.75em;"><span style="background-color: white; caret-color: rgb(51, 51, 51); color: #333333; font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 15.08px;">INTERVIEW: </span><span style="color: #333333; font-family: Georgia, serif;"><span style="caret-color: rgb(51, 51, 51); font-size: 15.08px;">Quỳnh Nguyễn</span></span></p><div style="caret-color: rgb(51, 51, 51); color: #333333; font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 15.08px;">Benaroya Hall, Seattle<br /><div><div><br /></div><div>ERICA MINER</div></div></div></div><div><br /></div>Sunday, Jan. 28 marks the return of Seattle Symphony’s “Celebrate Asia” concert for its 16th season. The event highlights the city’s all-important dynamic Asian community and features the American premiere of veteran composer Paul Chihara’s <i>Concerto for Piano and Chamber Orchestra “Concerto Fantasy,”</i> performed by award-winning Vietnamese-American pianist Quynh Nguyen. Seattle Symphony Associate Conductor Sunny Xia will helm the performance. <div><br /></div><div>In the midst of a busy rehearsal schedule, Nguyen took time off to answer some questions about her life, work, and passions.</div><div><br /></div><div><b>ERICA MINER:</b> Welcome to Seattle, Quynh! </div><div><br /></div><div><b>QUYNH NGUYEN:</b> Thank you, Erica, thank you for having me.</div><div><br /></div><div><b>EM: </b>I've been reading about you and am so impressed at what I've been seeing and listening to. I'm really excited to come to the hall and hear you perform. How's it going so far?</div><div><br /></div><div><b>QN:</b> I arrived last night and had a chance to practice on the piano. It is beautiful and I'm really looking forward to coming into the hall tomorrow and rehearsing with the orchestra. This is my first time with the Seattle Symphony, so I'm incredibly honored and humbled to have this opportunity, and really excited as well.</div><div><br /></div><div><b>EM:</b> I'm sure the orchestra is excited to have you there. I've known Paul since we were students at Tanglewood, a very long time ago.</div><div><br /></div><div><b>QN:</b> Wow, he told me about his time in Tanglewood. That's incredible.</div><div><br /></div><div><b>EM:</b> Having listened to your entire recording of Paul’s piano works on Naxos, I’m curious how that association between the two of you first started.</div><div><br /></div><div><b>QN:</b> The first piece I heard of Paul's was actually <i>Ami</i>, the piano duet that he wrote for his friend Pascal Rogé and his wife, Ami. I found the music amazing. Beautiful, sparkling and bright and gorgeous melodies and French influence. I’ve always loved French music. Ravel, Debussy. I also studied with Yvonne Loriod-Messiaen. I found Paul's music so fresh and original and gorgeous. So Paul and I met because I fell in love with his piano music and was interested in recording his complete piano works. When we met, he showed me this melody that he had held onto for years, composed for a television series about the Vietnam War for which he was writing music. I was astonished at how gorgeous it was and how it reminded me of the countryside of Vietnam. It was full of nostalgia and beauty, with this soaring violin solo, a gorgeous melody. Paul asked me, “What do you think of it? This is what I wrote for my series about the Vietnam war.” I said, “Paul, I absolutely love this melody.” So we started the collaboration. I worked with him for three years. Not only was he collaborating with me on this concerto, but I also was learning his piano works to record for the Naxos CD featuring Paul’s complete works. I was very lucky to get his advice and interpretation and ideas and all the feedback on how to play his music. He had so much to say about his inspirations and what he was thinking and tempi. It was such a rich collaboration.</div><div><br /></div><div><b>EM: </b>He's very fortunate to be able to work with you as well. There's nothing better than being able to work with a composer on their own works</div><div><br /></div><div><b>QN:</b> I felt transformed by the experience. The closest I had been able to get to that was when I was on a Fulbright studying with Yvonne Loriod Messiaen. She showed me manuscripts and explained to me, my husband did this and he wrote this and he told me to play like this and here's the pedal, and so I was able to get pretty close to it.</div><div><br /></div><div><b>EM:</b> I can only imagine how amazing it was working with her.</div><div><br /></div><div><b>QN:</b> Yes. So when Paul and I met and I had this opportunity to work with him, I understood what a treasurable experience it was. We really deepened to the collaboration and I feel very lucky to have had that opportunity.</div><div><br /></div><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjv-iy0N9o1zg1umVAuBiirwEUXtXLB54hvu-bDrqNFHfBOWS4cDTy_jhpImZY8qWq1uuLxJZHs09QJWgPxixufRuYUMgk9kHApms57nmbRuxB0Ohrr-eiLlxBPZKQQnRvA3BlxtYXF14HLAWNmEcY3Kh-45PYeqNJKnIpmQ5PlVwdgLFkJ-suGc7Jmtt8/s955/Paul%20Chihara_headshot.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="955" data-original-width="750" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjv-iy0N9o1zg1umVAuBiirwEUXtXLB54hvu-bDrqNFHfBOWS4cDTy_jhpImZY8qWq1uuLxJZHs09QJWgPxixufRuYUMgk9kHApms57nmbRuxB0Ohrr-eiLlxBPZKQQnRvA3BlxtYXF14HLAWNmEcY3Kh-45PYeqNJKnIpmQ5PlVwdgLFkJ-suGc7Jmtt8/s320/Paul%20Chihara_headshot.jpeg" width="251" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"></td></tr></tbody></table><div><b>EM:</b> Paul wrote the <i>Concerto Fantasy</i> especially for you. What inspired him, and how would you describe the piece in your own words?</div><div><br /></div><div><b>QN: </b>The concerto starts out with that gorgeous melody I described earlier. Then Paul gave me a theme that he said portrayed me as a young girl growing up in Vietnam and studying music. Then there was a passage, very virtuosic, dark and threatening, like a foreboding of something difficult that's going to come. In the second movement there's a jazzy part that's supposed to portray the entry of some American into Vietnam. It was easygoing and very, very fun. Then the love theme came, which Paul said he had written and used many times throughout his life. He first wrote it when he and his wife met, over 40 years ago. That theme was in the second movement after the jazzy part. The third movement is where the war was portrayed. It had bullets flying, fragments back and forth between the orchestra and the piano, virtuosic and very percussive parts in the piano. Also a chordal passage that is reminiscent of Mussorgsky’s
<i>Pictures at an Exhibition</i> and the gates of Kiev. Then the love theme came back, together with the orchestra, <i>forte</i>, then more fighting and darkness and more of that frightening portrayal of war. In the last movement there were joyous moments and a fun passage that Paul called the Hanoi Rag. The very first theme, the Vietnam theme that was featured from the very beginning, also came back. The piece ends very quietly, but with a sense of hope and reconciliation. So it's a very personal concerto for me, obviously. I was born after the war, but my family and everyone surrounding me had been impacted by the war.</div><div><br /></div><div><b>EM:</b> I can only imagine how difficult that must have been for all of you.</div><div><br /></div><div><b>QN: </b>Yes, a very difficult time leaving the country and also coming to the United States. I was incredibly relieved and happy that Vietnam and US established diplomatic relations after a while. And extremely humbled and grateful that I was able to perform this work with the Vietnamese National Symphony Orchestra in commemoration of diplomatic relations between the US and Vietnam after 25 years. The commemoration was supposed to take place in 2020, but when Covid happened it was postponed until 2022. It was such an honor, a wonderful feeling after the U .S. and Vietnam had been at war for so long, such an incredibly long and costly war that cost lives from both countries and impacted so many, and now our countries are friends and have good diplomatic relations with each other. That's incredibly important and meaningful to me as a Vietnamese-American. I came from Hanoi but I'm incredibly grateful for the opportunities and the life I was able to build here in the United States.</div><div><br /></div><div><b>EM:</b> I can totally relate to what you're saying. We watched the war on TV night after night. I participated in demonstrations protesting it. It was such an emotional thing for all of us. I'm delighted to know you feel good about the relationship finally being close between our two countries.</div><div><br /></div><div><b>QN: </b>It's incredible how much it impacted everyone. Paul also shared with me how during the war he was really working for peace. That's ultimately what this concerto is about. After all that, there's a sense of hope and reconciliation and peace. It's incredibly meaningful to have music bringing together different cultures and bringing a message of peace in such a time as ours, where there's still so much fighting many parts of the world. It's so painful to watch and hear and see it in the news. Every time that happens, it's just heartbreaking. That makes this particular performance that much more important because it's not only about what it was originally about, but also about everything that's going on in the world right now.</div><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdyw6GjkIzB-ADyldi0DTw9nEOyw0VZMDSkvNqQuc-D9cguJAY6mNUKubCvRiCA8ldoEpuocgWad3lnCOmRipXg2G2zHJ98EZ4f35_CsxDgMksncE9em0_Oox3-mKSlfVyf1PdKrruc3KX0ABgaiR-x3iCFLPHoZE0ITK8O5KssS303JzYyV9Dgxs1QqM/s4368/4570%20hshot%20by%20Lisa%20Mazzucco.jpg" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4368" data-original-width="2912" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdyw6GjkIzB-ADyldi0DTw9nEOyw0VZMDSkvNqQuc-D9cguJAY6mNUKubCvRiCA8ldoEpuocgWad3lnCOmRipXg2G2zHJ98EZ4f35_CsxDgMksncE9em0_Oox3-mKSlfVyf1PdKrruc3KX0ABgaiR-x3iCFLPHoZE0ITK8O5KssS303JzYyV9Dgxs1QqM/s320/4570%20hshot%20by%20Lisa%20Mazzucco.jpg" width="213" /></a></div><div><br /></div><div><b>EM:</b> I'm sure the audience is going to be very emotionally drawn in. Could you talk about some of the other pieces on your world premiere recording of Paul’s works?</div><div><br /></div><div><b>QN: </b>Well, the <i>Ami</i> duet, which I loved, is so fun and French influenced. I also recorded his <i>Four Reveries </i>after Beethoven, a world premiere. He made many edits to it while working with me. They were influenced and inspired by four of his most favorite Beethoven sonatas. I also recorded the Bagatelles, which he wrote for Jerome Lowenthal. I was fortunate to work with Paul on every single one of those pieces. Paul told me they were a collection of some of his most favorite melodies of his entire career. He grouped them together and made them 14 haikus, the short Japanese poem, in music. Some of them are absolutely beautiful. There was one dedicated to his wife, one dedicated to William Bolcolm, one of his best friends. Some were influenced by Japanese music and others influenced by American popular music. One influenced by Shostakovich, the <i>Toccata</i>. They were a lot of fun to play, gorgeous melodies.</div><div><br /></div><div><b>EM: </b>I know about his great love for Beethoven. It's wonderful that he can take that inspiration and create something so magnificent. Aside from Paul's complete piano works, you've performed and recorded works of many other composers: Bach, Beethoven, Chopin, Ravel, Tailleferre, and more. Do any composer’s works particularly resonate with you? Clearly have a very close relationship with Tailleferre’s music. You've recorded a vast amount of it. Are there other composers that you especially favor?</div><div><br /></div><div><b>QN:</b> I adore French music, but I also really love the music of Bach and especially the music of Chopin. Those are some of my favorite composers. Also Beethoven, of course, and Schubert.
I'm drawn to different composers at different moments and times. But those are some of my favorites.</div><div><br /></div><div><b>EM:</b> Are there any pieces you have not yet recorded that you would very much like to record?</div><div><br /></div><div><b>QN: </b>That's a great question. I would love to record the Tailleferre Concerti. That's one of my dreams. I'm working on the Bach <i>Goldberg Variations</i>, something I love playing. And Chopin Concerti, I have to confess…(Laughs)</div><div><br /></div><div><b>EM: </b>What pianist wouldn't kill to record those? </div><div><br /></div><div><b>QN: </b>Yes, yes, (Laughs) you're absolutely right.</div><div><br /></div><div><b>EM:</b> I watched your video of the first concerto and absolutely loved it. So that's something that definitely could be in the cards. What do you most look forward to in this weekend's performance?</div><div><br /></div><div><b>QN:</b> Being able to touch the audience with the music, to communicate the emotions and the meaning of the music. I hope to be able to bring out that message and the beauty of the piece, and the story of, first war, but then peace and being together and a sense of resolution. I hope to be able to unite people with music and bring together different cultures and to enjoy the beauty of the piece, this beautiful concerto with the orchestra.</div><div><br /></div><div><b>EM:</b> It sounds like a wonderful mission. I'm sure everybody will be looking forward to seeing you and hearing you, and enjoy what you have to communicate to us. It's going to be an absolutely wonderful experience.</div><div><br /></div><div><b>QN:</b> Thank you for asking so in depth about the concerto. I just wanted to say again, I'm incredibly honored and excited to be performing with the Seattle Symphony Orchestra. It's my first time in Seattle and my first time with this symphony and I'm a bit overwhelmed at the moment, but I hope to do a good job on Sunday.</div><div><br /></div><div><b>EM:</b> I have no doubt you’re going to do a fantastic job with the orchestra. They have a wonderful camaraderie and will welcome you with open arms. You’ll feel that the moment you get onstage. And it's a wonderful hall. You're going to enjoy the whole experience.</div><div><br /></div><div><b>QN:</b> Thank you so much for your encouragement as well. It really means a lot.</div><div><br /></div><div><b>EM: </b>I'm delighted to hear it. I look forward to your performance and wish you the best success, which I know it will be. It will be very emotional and inspiring for you as well. Thank you for spending this time with me.</div><div><br /></div><div><b>QN:</b> Thank you, Erica. </div><div>Details about <a href="https://www.seattlesymphony.org/en/concerttickets/calendar/2023-2024/23celebrate-asia " target="_blank">Celebrate Asia</a> can be found at: <a href="https://www.seattlesymphony.org/en/concerttickets/calendar/2023-2024/23celebrate-asia " target="_blank">https://www.seattlesymphony.org/en/concerttickets/calendar/2023-2024/23celebrate-asia </a><div><br /></div><div style="caret-color: rgb(51, 51, 51); color: #333333; font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 15.08px; text-align: center;">---ooo--- </div><div style="caret-color: rgb(51, 51, 51); color: #333333; font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 15.08px;"><br /></div><div>Photo credits: Lisa Mazzucco
</div><div><i style="caret-color: rgb(51, 51, 51); color: #333333; font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 15.08px;">Erica can be reached at: eminer5472@gmail.com</i></div></div>Erica Minerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15981212553256317650noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9194809435670809838.post-60340324972611585222024-01-26T12:14:00.000-08:002024-01-27T19:15:58.238-08:00PSOC Hosts London's RPO with Early and Late Romantics<br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhAl7X9PjQN51acdEfVplnPPf7T4c4QpdlaQIirejNi_TdCH3MHigDXJd3MeG06Pvn_lLu7pA3-rA_JlazXPvvPvRvdNMQTLz2EOTAqtkYJES5IBBJI_1b4aWfqKAdIwyaRAuzh1yJTQ81cXmYCSbAgy2mq3Dm5lzyV1N0eBnMPI1fAvoLXYUv7mVan9Yc/s5000/RPO_Isata_Kanneh_002.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3333" data-original-width="5000" height="346" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhAl7X9PjQN51acdEfVplnPPf7T4c4QpdlaQIirejNi_TdCH3MHigDXJd3MeG06Pvn_lLu7pA3-rA_JlazXPvvPvRvdNMQTLz2EOTAqtkYJES5IBBJI_1b4aWfqKAdIwyaRAuzh1yJTQ81cXmYCSbAgy2mq3Dm5lzyV1N0eBnMPI1fAvoLXYUv7mVan9Yc/w640-h426/RPO_Isata_Kanneh_002.jpg" width="520" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Isata Kanneh-Mason plays Clara Schumann’s <i>Piano Concerto</i> in Costa Mesa’s Renée and Henry Segerstrom Concert Hall with the Royal Philharmonic Orchestra and Vasily Petrenko.</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><div>REVIEW</div><div><br /></div><div>Philharmonic Society of Orange County hosts the Royal Philharmonic Orchestra, Renée and Henry Segerstrom Concert Hall, Costa Mesa</div><div>DAVID J BROWN</div><div><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFePeoPGBcOckHkXIWAMDnMcugiT6Qy2b1eSmxYdxRz8QqjgQ34ELojt6NRrkxXqx09WAhZ4BZOysYXQ0smwq2hKcij4SVMOEgnTHqgM5UqBt__vAIID3Ff4k94ClvaXByqg-RgxR2XKUX6oIwfxqKFPx1JEsStjxNGMpeSruJAyB2dtOChOG3qOnea3I/s3333/RPO_Isata_Kanneh_009%20copy.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3333" data-original-width="2449" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFePeoPGBcOckHkXIWAMDnMcugiT6Qy2b1eSmxYdxRz8QqjgQ34ELojt6NRrkxXqx09WAhZ4BZOysYXQ0smwq2hKcij4SVMOEgnTHqgM5UqBt__vAIID3Ff4k94ClvaXByqg-RgxR2XKUX6oIwfxqKFPx1JEsStjxNGMpeSruJAyB2dtOChOG3qOnea3I/w147-h200/RPO_Isata_Kanneh_009%20copy.jpg" width="147" /></a></div>In the <a href="https://www.rpo.co.uk/">Royal Philharmonic Orchestra</a>’s week-long residency in Orange County under the auspices of OC’s <a href="https://www.philharmonicsociety.org/">Philharmonic Society</a>, the standout concert (for this listener at least) adhered firmly to the time-honored overture/concerto/symphony model. However, with a program as cunningly conceived as that which the RPO’s Music Director, <a href="https://vasilypetrenkomusic.com/">Vasily Petrenko</a> (<i>left</i>) presented in the second of the orchestra’s three evening concerts at the <a href="https://www.scfta.org/">Segerstrom Concert Hall</a>, few, surely, would grumble.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">With emphasis very much on the “moderato” in its <i>Allegro moderato</i> initial marking, the RPO’s violas and cellos in rich and immaculate unison gave the somber B minor opening of Felix Mendelssohn’s <i>Overture The Hebrides (Fingal’s Cave), Op. 26</i>, a formidable oceanic swell, enhanced by Maestro Petrenko’s decision to use the orchestra’s full string strength in a work of early Romanticism (composed 1829-1830 and revised in 1832), that in HIP (historically informed) accounts by smaller forces can take on a “lean and hungry” aspect wholly absent here.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJDbrosL2TupT3Gph1k-998TQUdo6OfkZlWHvAaoemNuMQ-qThbX86xd0AqCxMS_Zmd_wlGSIDc_ZyyyC7acjlxsF2PtAlEMXJ5jC2YHYwatYzclqWC1lwa0xSEOQZdirfLQ4hiifWwdrQ1VLtFVrfcfpA2fgbcWdtWfLQYQzOE6HOYH86X9NSo-sNYaU/s2000/Fingal's%20Cave.jpeg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1210" data-original-width="2000" height="243" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJDbrosL2TupT3Gph1k-998TQUdo6OfkZlWHvAaoemNuMQ-qThbX86xd0AqCxMS_Zmd_wlGSIDc_ZyyyC7acjlxsF2PtAlEMXJ5jC2YHYwatYzclqWC1lwa0xSEOQZdirfLQ4hiifWwdrQ1VLtFVrfcfpA2fgbcWdtWfLQYQzOE6HOYH86X9NSo-sNYaU/w400-h243/Fingal's%20Cave.jpeg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The inspiration for Mendelssohn’s overture—Fingal’s Cave, Isle of Staffa, c.1847 <br />(watercolor by William Leighton Leitch).</td></tr></tbody></table>Instead, the sense of latent power opened out into a gloriously expansive, though never inert, flowering of the D major second theme, and then focused onto the vivid storm at the end of the exposition, with crisp and bold contributions from the winds and brass (the score deploys just the Classical pairs, including horns and trumpets—none of which were doubled in this performance so far as I could see, despite the weighty complement of strings).</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYmPCj8mzKLnBkqXmZ84DGtS2w386qKllsyYayrppjBuCKW1pRnldNlER_Vjr3R8U_f37ZNXEhXwuMyxt6v0la4VWmDU0PioSIURt3F2FLwaaUwj9636X5g0g2_4BiEmng-utfrrmyZSxvFdqjRD1boWRe_eRNIzEJJEGZNoJHWI07wU_CzwtduWjYocc/s1790/Felix_Mendelssohn_Bartholdy_-_Aquarell_von_James_Warren_Childe_1830.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1790" data-original-width="985" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYmPCj8mzKLnBkqXmZ84DGtS2w386qKllsyYayrppjBuCKW1pRnldNlER_Vjr3R8U_f37ZNXEhXwuMyxt6v0la4VWmDU0PioSIURt3F2FLwaaUwj9636X5g0g2_4BiEmng-utfrrmyZSxvFdqjRD1boWRe_eRNIzEJJEGZNoJHWI07wU_CzwtduWjYocc/w110-h200/Felix_Mendelssohn_Bartholdy_-_Aquarell_von_James_Warren_Childe_1830.jpg" width="110" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Mendelssohn in 1829.</td></tr></tbody></table>This allayed initial slight misgivings about the sheer breadth of the opening, and both Petrenko’s control of pace and the RPO’s fervent response in the remainder of <i>Fingal’s Cave </i>made the whole performance a richly satisfying reminder of what a splendid concert opener this overture is, and a promising portent of what was to come.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">Petrenko’s choice of Rachmaninoff’s huge <i>Second Symphony</i> to fill the second half put a squeeze on the time available for the concerto in the remainder of the first half, and the selection of the concise <i>Piano Concerto in A minor, Op. 7</i> by Clara Schumann (1819-1996) was at once appropriate, still relatively unhackneyed, and intriguing.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">Her remarkable life and career have been much tilled over and analyzed, from child pianistic prodigy managed by her father Friedrich Wieck, through the often-romanticized relationship with and then marriage to Robert Schumann, to her career as a much-traveled piano virtuoso. During his lifetime, and while maintaining that career, she also ran a household for an increasingly difficult and ailing genius of a husband and a family of, eventually, eight children. Finally, acknowledged as one of if not <i>the</i> greatest pianist of the age, she continued to tour and perform through most of a 40-year widowhood in which she ceaselessly promoted Robert’s compositional legacy.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhD-HzxyEEPaOvdXMKNGiJL0Gr4GEusyvr_g9UJGr3oP0iqBdrY6Rjb26aSWn0mVaIfYc-9fOlNHi3h7_uDWt-F7x009ISzbWRDTIwSAIXhyphenhyphenWFkIYhMc9YCocCnMbCPrbsnZlE8xZNUn__iQlzylBZsyD-7-QLf09tJn4QFaskaVynrNvWpQMq177PqROQ/s750/Clara_Schumann%201835.jpg" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="750" data-original-width="528" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhD-HzxyEEPaOvdXMKNGiJL0Gr4GEusyvr_g9UJGr3oP0iqBdrY6Rjb26aSWn0mVaIfYc-9fOlNHi3h7_uDWt-F7x009ISzbWRDTIwSAIXhyphenhyphenWFkIYhMc9YCocCnMbCPrbsnZlE8xZNUn__iQlzylBZsyD-7-QLf09tJn4QFaskaVynrNvWpQMq177PqROQ/s320/Clara_Schumann%201835.jpg" width="225" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Clara Schumann in 1835, aged 16.</td></tr></tbody></table>Inevitably Clara’s own composing was much curtailed by her long performing career. The key work of her early years was this concerto, which began life in 1833 as a single movement essentially orchestrated by Schumann, at the time a pupil of Wieck and already a close friend to Clara and admirer of her musicality.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">She played this <i>Konzertstück</i> several times in public before adding two more movements in 1834 and 1835. Accounts differ as to how far she revised, or even replaced, Schumann’s orchestration of what was now the finale, but whatever its detailed chronology, she premiered the whole concerto in November 1835, having turned 16 only a few weeks before.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">After an 1837 performance Schumann wrote (making clear his critical disinterest): “<i>There are stars of thought in the first movement—yet it did not make an impression of completeness. When you are seated at the piano, I do not know you—my judgment is a thing apart.</i>” Shortly afterwards Clara replied: “<i>Of the many items in the program my concerto had the best reception […] Whether or no it satisfies me is another question. Do you think that I am so weak as not to know well enough what are the faults of the concerto?</i>” She never played it in public again after their marriage in 1840.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">For the RPO’s performance Petrenko reduced the string strength by a couple of desks in each section—a slightly odd decision given that it begins with a bold orchestral <i>Allegro maestoso</i> and that the score actually calls for one <i>more</i> instrument, a trombone, than Mendelssohn’s overture. Nonetheless, the opening tutti was as bold and purposeful as one could desire, as indeed was the solo <i>fortissimo</i> entry, just 17 measures later, by pianist <a href="https://www.isatakannehmason.com/#/">Isata Kanneh-Mason</a>, the oldest of no fewer than seven musical siblings who have become something of a sensation in the UK.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">Ms. Kanneh-Mason has clearly made this concerto her own and, after the unbroken link to the central <i>Romanze</i>, showed herself as responsive to its exquisite intimacy—in its later stages in communion with RPO Principal cellist Richard Harwood—as she was to the first movement’s rhetoric and the long finale’s momentum and virtuosity, notwithstanding a couple of spots of slightly shaky ensemble with the orchestra. The audience loved the work, and her, and Ms. Kanneh-Mason responded with a torrential account of Chopin’s <i>Prelude in D minor, Op. 28, No. 24</i> as encore.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgl3Ix1VQflFU9RasQhRduACrujv627cQ6IvsbhvUvowe6p8wRZC8i2F84w0XPfdcJefpuy4J63ZhlSGcacgAE8NigwqSPvdA9K4LUwFEZLZZkmc3OTDGehibxa3Azik4qtu2G4E7041UHQZm4OLkMNcczv-AnUbQb5EyQagNswVJ0tmKYj-wYix38XnK8/s5000/RPO_Isata_Kanneh_010.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3333" data-original-width="5000" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgl3Ix1VQflFU9RasQhRduACrujv627cQ6IvsbhvUvowe6p8wRZC8i2F84w0XPfdcJefpuy4J63ZhlSGcacgAE8NigwqSPvdA9K4LUwFEZLZZkmc3OTDGehibxa3Azik4qtu2G4E7041UHQZm4OLkMNcczv-AnUbQb5EyQagNswVJ0tmKYj-wYix38XnK8/w400-h266/RPO_Isata_Kanneh_010.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br />The RPO was very much back to full strength for Sergei Rachmaninoff’s <i>Symphony No. 2 in E minor, Op. 27</i>, begin in October 1906 and completed in April 1907. Not only is it by far his longest orchestral work overall, but more than one-third of its one-hour+ length is taken up by the first movement, a very extended sonata structure that is yet further enlarged by a repeat of the exposition. This follows a long introduction, marked <i>Largo</i>, and here Petrenko nailed his interpretative colors to the mast in no uncertain fashion.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhw_9kBKTHbE5QbTutb4JbucesqYYGHL8kpZ34NHG_b1pVhFbpIEF-zTCoD0TpBJP84UG1mGNFg5gL08RhBZVv0upJAmcnUaQYZAMjm4tbg426QFkMCNkotQbD-9ryL-xqvDFgdwDDCpV2tfmQCRgj82BBY_RjHDrZKwFzZVTPtfmxGOkv1duM-XZongp4/s1382/Rachmaninoff%20in%201906%20-%20Moscovery.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1382" data-original-width="1024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhw_9kBKTHbE5QbTutb4JbucesqYYGHL8kpZ34NHG_b1pVhFbpIEF-zTCoD0TpBJP84UG1mGNFg5gL08RhBZVv0upJAmcnUaQYZAMjm4tbg426QFkMCNkotQbD-9ryL-xqvDFgdwDDCpV2tfmQCRgj82BBY_RjHDrZKwFzZVTPtfmxGOkv1duM-XZongp4/w237-h320/Rachmaninoff%20in%201906%20-%20Moscovery.jpg" width="237" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Sergei Rachmaninoff in 1906.</td></tr></tbody></table>In his hands this introduction was extremely slow, I think well under the metronome mark of quarter-note=48, and carried so much gravitas and portent that when the <i>Allegro moderato</i> exposition’s first subject arrived—a lengthy and effortlessly flowing <i>dolce</i> melody that, for Rachmaninoff, is relatively emotionally neutral—for this listener at least there was a distinct sense of anti-climax and unfulfilled expectation that a less extravagantly ominous way with the <i>Largo</i> would have avoided.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">After a relatively fleet account of the exposition’s opening and an electrifying treatment of the accelerating climax of the first subject group, the <i>Moderato</i> second subject emerged with great breadth and passionate intensity. Unlike Petrenko’s commercial recording, here he did not observe the exposition repeat, which would have pulled the movement out to around 25 minutes, but a pattern was set that would recur throughout the performance: fast music swept along for maximum excitement, while the many “big tune” passages were stretched and soared and wrung tight for every drop of expressive intensity.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwaFQs6R54652GIoYALclUnOE8UpQkT3PE1R9wZZkdzhRrA8246InwxzetfEcLDCLTZksEg_VEpiXhyEZMP8Y3qWUmyA8HVj47eEYPnGiUO-8XT2k2Xr2JMJe_EP7s3_xloh8B0krXvSotv64Ax7Qt6_PL8BveeIb1Fu86aIQwERE-hDppWMM3RuVZP4s/s800/Rachmaninoff%20c%201910.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="800" data-original-width="588" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwaFQs6R54652GIoYALclUnOE8UpQkT3PE1R9wZZkdzhRrA8246InwxzetfEcLDCLTZksEg_VEpiXhyEZMP8Y3qWUmyA8HVj47eEYPnGiUO-8XT2k2Xr2JMJe_EP7s3_xloh8B0krXvSotv64Ax7Qt6_PL8BveeIb1Fu86aIQwERE-hDppWMM3RuVZP4s/s320/Rachmaninoff%20c%201910.jpg" width="235" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Rachmaninoff working at his Ivanovka <br />estate, near St. Petersburg, c.1910.</td></tr></tbody></table>Thus the galloping opening of the second movement scherzo was thrillingly athletic, with the glockenspiel speckling the texture like brushed icicles in the Segerstrom’s wonderful acoustic, but was brought virtually to a halt when the nominally <i>Moderato</i> second subject arrived, a to-die-for melody that any other less lyrically gifted composer would have saved for their best-ever slow movement.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">The <i>Adagio</i>, arguably the quintessential expression of Rachmaninoff’s particular brand of high Romanticism, was overwhelmingly sumptuous, with the RPO amply fulfilling every demand made by Petrenko’s expansive gestures and pacing, while the finale—for me always the most satisfying movement of this symphony, with its combination of exultant momentum and relishable call-backs to themes from earlier in the work—built to a final climax that was certainly cathartic but was rhetorically drawn out almost to breaking point.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhab7QUrvfYA2kMcI6hkQNsvafmYay29mefAR2e_gmKK6KzE2k_eQi1M3EPP923oi8ZAcxsNSNr55Iio7whNqUb1mcchU7uQhXRRlZhqP_tdjxtW6tdycmG1peshM6BO64Uv3Etsi33J1XI2ZbqK55MgONqvacyARMHhnsp6VNha5EgjUXdgaefLXPjl9A/s5000/RPO_Isata_Kanneh_001.jpg" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3333" data-original-width="5000" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhab7QUrvfYA2kMcI6hkQNsvafmYay29mefAR2e_gmKK6KzE2k_eQi1M3EPP923oi8ZAcxsNSNr55Iio7whNqUb1mcchU7uQhXRRlZhqP_tdjxtW6tdycmG1peshM6BO64Uv3Etsi33J1XI2ZbqK55MgONqvacyARMHhnsp6VNha5EgjUXdgaefLXPjl9A/w320-h213/RPO_Isata_Kanneh_001.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>The whole performance was, in its way, a remarkable <i>tour-de-force</i> both for this wonderful British orchestra and its charismatic Music Director Vasily Petrenko, and was rewarded by an ovation that threatened never to end (it would have been even better if the audience had avoided applauding between the movements). If ultimately it left me feeling slightly as if I’d unwisely taken too large a portion of a too-rich dessert, getting to that point had certainly been memorably flavorful… </div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">---ooo---</div><br />Royal Philharmonic Orchestra, presented by the Philharmonic Society of Orange County, Renée & Henry Segerstrom Concert Hall, Costa Mesa, Friday, January 19, 2024, 8 p.m. <div>Images: The performance: Drew A. Kelley/Philharmonic Society of Orange County; Fingal’s Cave: Royal Collection Trust; Mendelssohn, Rachmaninoff portrait: Wikimedia Commons; Clara Wieck: Larousse; Rachmaninoff working: World History Encyclopaedia.
</div><div><br /></div><i>If you found this review to be useful, interesting, or informative, please feel free to <b><a href="https://www.buymeacoffee.com/davidjbrown10">Buy Me A Coffee</a></b>!</i>David J Brownhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08224977724583670873noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9194809435670809838.post-51161327222666194972024-01-16T15:07:00.000-08:002024-01-16T19:19:09.713-08:00Gallic Magic at January’s “Second Sunday” Recital<br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4AFQILW_4tWx0tqGABGhY4EjL71QIv22h1ZXGUsPlYgmMnyP-suCP4w_fNewuY1H5oHiAcgJzPtPYrUocUYupA_IdlLqa5SRgxh7jLWvwlXUTznHuIBzE_SyL5xBQuTxjnwVZqDu0K1OniSz_105wB2ax9KBtASTdOUN4ws3M1u1FTSenEQxSESPsLFI/s1920/Screenshot%202024-01-16%20at%2011.41.43%E2%80%AFAM.png" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1080" data-original-width="1920" height="293" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4AFQILW_4tWx0tqGABGhY4EjL71QIv22h1ZXGUsPlYgmMnyP-suCP4w_fNewuY1H5oHiAcgJzPtPYrUocUYupA_IdlLqa5SRgxh7jLWvwlXUTznHuIBzE_SyL5xBQuTxjnwVZqDu0K1OniSz_105wB2ax9KBtASTdOUN4ws3M1u1FTSenEQxSESPsLFI/w640-h360/Screenshot%202024-01-16%20at%2011.41.43%E2%80%AFAM.png" width="520" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Robert Thies and Kerenza Peacock at Rolling Hills United Methodist Church.</td></tr></tbody></table><div>REVIEW</div><div><br /></div><div>Robert Thies and Kerenza Peacock, Second Sundays at Two, Rolling Hills United Methodist Church</div><div>DAVID J BROWN</div><div><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxkZ228VYPRPkVA_9pGRmbbvA-0gtzUu9__Q-htZVeXB_TnnwdgBQ-_LUF2KyJz5P6w5CHw_UpqK23BrR17xMFecYeb_tNeyRJu5uhcDLQDVyK9HGWsMkbtKcRFBIyIsaIe5DhQNo-SNvLg-zdFn-9DoJeLvAR0Yp81-Nq7j8Mg_4tcMJjvHq-K5Lc96w/s639/Debussy%20c.1880.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="639" data-original-width="360" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxkZ228VYPRPkVA_9pGRmbbvA-0gtzUu9__Q-htZVeXB_TnnwdgBQ-_LUF2KyJz5P6w5CHw_UpqK23BrR17xMFecYeb_tNeyRJu5uhcDLQDVyK9HGWsMkbtKcRFBIyIsaIe5DhQNo-SNvLg-zdFn-9DoJeLvAR0Yp81-Nq7j8Mg_4tcMJjvHq-K5Lc96w/w113-h200/Debussy%20c.1880.jpg" width="113" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Debussy, c.1880.</td></tr></tbody></table>This first <a href="http://www.palosverdes.com/ClassicalCrossroads/SecondSundays.htm">Classical Crossroads</a> “Second Sunday” recital of 2024 presented an all-French violin/piano program performed by one very well-known figure at these concerts, the pianist <a href="https://www.robertthies.org/">Robert Thies</a>, and joined by an entirely new one, the violinist <a href="https://www.kerenzapeacock.com/">Kerenza Peacock</a>, British-born but now resident in LA. First up were three arrangements of miniatures by Claude Debussy. Introducing them, Mr. Thies averred that generally he was something of a music purist, preferring original versions, but in the present case all three were so perfectly achieved that they felt like originals.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">Debussy’s <i>Beau Soir </i>(Beautiful evening)<i> L. 84</i> is a song possibly written as early as 1878 when he was aged 16, but revised and published in 1891. In this famous transcription by Jascha Heifetz, the subtle undulations of the fairly low-lying vocal line transferred effortlessly to the violin, played by Ms. Peacock with a veiled, husky, confiding tone that immediately compelled the ear. With the young Debussy’s haunting strains still in our ears, Mr. Thies read, in translation, the song’s lyric by the poet and novelist Paul Bourget (1852-1935): </div><div style="text-align: justify;"><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjAWHQhPol8TTyFJzkn61NEpzkOizEQCxbaK1M2MH1j8yTEldxI1Mm6wc4bCKXwWwoINqPWeIW4vEfR7sBwD4WLUnzDR99c0HAvfE_aCWHLLqJvpZM0saRK7DPG0XEDvlq9rGxL5qVyMNIDHW3siszK_td1dh8CJVUEpre0JVzWJyXWtUpJhBdHkA5zfys/s831/Paul_Bourget_7.jpg" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="831" data-original-width="604" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjAWHQhPol8TTyFJzkn61NEpzkOizEQCxbaK1M2MH1j8yTEldxI1Mm6wc4bCKXwWwoINqPWeIW4vEfR7sBwD4WLUnzDR99c0HAvfE_aCWHLLqJvpZM0saRK7DPG0XEDvlq9rGxL5qVyMNIDHW3siszK_td1dh8CJVUEpre0JVzWJyXWtUpJhBdHkA5zfys/w146-h200/Paul_Bourget_7.jpg" width="110" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Paul Bourget.</td></tr></tbody></table><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><i>When in the setting sun the streams are rosy</i></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><i>And when a warm breeze floats over the fields of grain, </i></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><i>A counsel to be happy seems to emanate from all things</i></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><i>And rise towards the troubled heart;</i></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><i><br /></i></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><i>In advice to enjoy the pleasure of being alive,</i></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><i>While one is young and the evening is beautiful,</i></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><i>For we shall go as this wave goes</i></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><i>It to the sea—we to the grave.</i></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjewLamm-exe5ypOvTb6rtK_gmGSHaMvPRKPwL9qs6VyzAy7NsRATEp0DFp4DOXItp8M2F41mkEB7ITLoD32BNja5-ETW8IyMxgYdt26iS4_mnzu1rIIo8XAxRyf1Bk9invVF4nl17SnYuSy01AxQbGmRa4tLqgI24EH8FAUvjsqp86ETt75MNmq16cwlQ/s1616/Debussy%20by%20Felix%20Nadar.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1616" data-original-width="1200" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjewLamm-exe5ypOvTb6rtK_gmGSHaMvPRKPwL9qs6VyzAy7NsRATEp0DFp4DOXItp8M2F41mkEB7ITLoD32BNja5-ETW8IyMxgYdt26iS4_mnzu1rIIo8XAxRyf1Bk9invVF4nl17SnYuSy01AxQbGmRa4tLqgI24EH8FAUvjsqp86ETt75MNmq16cwlQ/w149-h200/Debussy%20by%20Felix%20Nadar.jpg" width="149" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Debussy, c.1908.</td></tr></tbody></table>The other two arrangements were just as felicitous as Mr. Thies promised. In his transcription of <i>La fille aux cheveux de lin </i>(The girl with the flaxen hair), the eighth of Debussy’s <i>Préludes, Book I, L. 125</i> (1910), the American violinist Arthur Hartmann’s transference of the opening melodic line directly to the violin was magically effective, while the waltz <i>La plus que lente</i> (More than slow), <i>L. 128</i> (1910) acquired a smoky, café intimacy and emotional resonance as played by Ms. Peacock and Mr. Thies in the arrangement by Léon Roques (1839-1923).</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjG7ikolb9i6IKT2WCnY5IbhhZEn1PeI5-4G5AfDfK1-3Ki922IIFY-UdUNMLTk-n5VydNub1IQOLvm-XHNUoz0Os3jMvBvZx7jU4KRqEVBzIH_c4m_oP_ZSLueNparaBop4K6o_08p2pTx5P9pVJ3xNpHj-8uOl-bHjM4TshcEFP7mlKDnPnbl2jOD5UA/s277/Arthur%20Hartmann.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="277" data-original-width="191" height="159" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjG7ikolb9i6IKT2WCnY5IbhhZEn1PeI5-4G5AfDfK1-3Ki922IIFY-UdUNMLTk-n5VydNub1IQOLvm-XHNUoz0Os3jMvBvZx7jU4KRqEVBzIH_c4m_oP_ZSLueNparaBop4K6o_08p2pTx5P9pVJ3xNpHj-8uOl-bHjM4TshcEFP7mlKDnPnbl2jOD5UA/w138-h200/Arthur%20Hartmann.jpg" width="110" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Arthur Hartmann.</td></tr></tbody></table>(Both Léon Roques and Arthur Hartmann (1881-1956) were composers in their own right, the latter being the author of many beguiling violin/piano miniatures, as well as an arrangement of <i>La fille aux cheveux de lin</i> that is arguably as effective as Heifetz’s, if a little more texturally elaborate).</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">These three pieces could be regarded as a delectable trio of <i>bonnes bouches</i> to prepare the aural palate for the recital’s main course, which was the <i>Violin Sonata No. 1 in A Major, Op. 13</i> (1875-76) by Gabriel Fauré (1845-1924). Despite his long creative span of around six decades, Fauré’s output in most musical genres was relatively small in number, and of his only 10 large-scale multi-movement chamber works, this was the first to be written, when he was still relatively unknown as a composer.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">However, its 1877 premiere was a great success, earning high praise from the influential Saint-Saëns, Fauré’s teacher and lifelong friend, for its “<i>novel forms, exquisite modulations, uncommon tone colors, [and] use of the most unexpected rhythms,</i>” and it was soon taken into the repertoire of leading violinists of the day. It’s still probably Fauré’s most popular chamber work.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwX4CyHmWlFG2sFXULp2q97B-IeOoxh0QfsaK8L4oV8AxgD7VQjMPKv3Vo_tq_i47UrlfUPecEVzXnJwgtOr-b5oR7I6TTrcX_qmKCSz8DVgSc58OjZc5vhDawPD6y03e6vhvwl6guaUSYhGzg7v4ykcro5VxeVqkznp9UaIIIhAdqR6MgZ_wGWCLw_LA/s965/Gabriel%20Faure%CC%81%20by%20Paul%20Mathey.png" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="965" data-original-width="735" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwX4CyHmWlFG2sFXULp2q97B-IeOoxh0QfsaK8L4oV8AxgD7VQjMPKv3Vo_tq_i47UrlfUPecEVzXnJwgtOr-b5oR7I6TTrcX_qmKCSz8DVgSc58OjZc5vhDawPD6y03e6vhvwl6guaUSYhGzg7v4ykcro5VxeVqkznp9UaIIIhAdqR6MgZ_wGWCLw_LA/s320/Gabriel%20Faure%CC%81%20by%20Paul%20Mathey.png" width="244" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Portrait of Gabriel Fauré as <br />a young man, by Paul Mathey.</td></tr></tbody></table>As with his teacher, Fauré here and in his other major chamber works gives the lie to the sometimes-repeated canard that French composers were not comfortable with sonata form, and in her engagingly informal introduction Ms. Peacock also noted some influence of Wagner, as well as Saint-Saëns’ comment that the whole sonata was covered in a “<i>sheen of magic.</i>”</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">There was plenty of magic in hers and Mr. Thies’ performance, with the majestic amplitude of the <i>Allegro molto</i> first movement enhanced by the welcome observation of its exposition repeat, and a somber weight and then growing passion of utterance given to the barcarolle rhythm and sighing melody that imbue the second movement <i>Andante</i>.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">The scurrying chase of the <i>Allegro vivo Scherzo</i> was perfectly embodied in Mr. Thies’ nimble finger work and Ms. Peacock’s deliciously exact differentiation between the <i>arco</i> and <i>pizzicato</i> elements of Fauré’s violin writing, while they switched tracks to, and then back from, the <i>dolce</i> expressiveness of the (unmarked) trio section with seeming effortlessness. Fauré's <i>Allegro quasi presto</i> instruction for the finale is one of those markings where the music as heard seems to belie its implications. No driven urgency here, but rather a serene but purposeful forward motion.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">After this splendid account of Fauré’s first chamber masterpiece, the RHUMC audience was treated to a not-entirely-unexpected dessert, a robustly affectionate account of the <i>Berceuse</i> (1864, rev. 1893) from his <i>Dolly Suite</i>, with Ms. Peacock revealing hitherto unsuspected keyboard chops by joining Mr. Thies on a second piano stool in the piece’s original piano four-hands guise. You can enjoy a reprise of the livestream video of the <a href="https://vimeo.com/903170823">whole recital here</a>. </div><div><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"> ---ooo--- </div><div><br /></div><div> Rolling Hills United Methodist Church, Torrance, Sunday, January 14, 2024, 2.00 p.m.</div><div>Images: The performance: Classical Crossroads; Young Debussy: Bridgman Images; Hartmann: Prone to Violins blogspot; Mature Debussy, Bourget: Wikimedia Commons; Fauré: Art Renewal Center.</div><div><br /></div><div>If you found this review to be useful, interesting, or informative, please feel free to <a href="https://www.buymeacoffee.com/davidjbrown10">Buy Me A Coffee</a>!</div>David J Brownhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08224977724583670873noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9194809435670809838.post-13187328227340050142024-01-14T09:37:00.000-08:002024-01-21T20:16:44.847-08:00Dreamquests and Nightmares with the Pacific Symphony<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEitpguEihqxYUPkiAZxbAssraqFuVUYesZgK28yApsJBAxysHQGMTvYAxSns8CyD3l2H0doCqS47F2t_vdLHNMG4xgaPVyxgWK8UpzYVbeHj302DLENZtcQqQN2oa0z94BYUGyZlkiLfj17ZfJvhyphenhyphenFCEIRjODl2YMgsMbL-Ficw-T7F416JG1oC0yk9tr0/s5000/2024-01-11_PacSymp_DG-3797.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3331" data-original-width="5000" height="346" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEitpguEihqxYUPkiAZxbAssraqFuVUYesZgK28yApsJBAxysHQGMTvYAxSns8CyD3l2H0doCqS47F2t_vdLHNMG4xgaPVyxgWK8UpzYVbeHj302DLENZtcQqQN2oa0z94BYUGyZlkiLfj17ZfJvhyphenhyphenFCEIRjODl2YMgsMbL-Ficw-T7F416JG1oC0yk9tr0/w640-h426/2024-01-11_PacSymp_DG-3797.jpg" width="520" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Soloist Paul Huang and conductor Matthew Halls share a moment in their performance of Tchaikovsky’s <i>Violin Concerto</i>.</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><div>REVIEW</div><div><br /></div><div>Pacific Symphony Orchestra, Renée and Henry Segerstrom Concert Hall, Costa Mesa</div><div>DAVID J BROWN</div><div><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdYoaFkrmPRu_X17RgEYEzcZRAQ0HG4qL1eSt1F21MbAivFfLzGvbIHQrMm3TELWAhfIoCceaET_xo3eFF6f70PXINAlE85PqwFSvHFYHv7kMlGlIuvM3nH6JQoJl6Xfp28ss3x9lWj2jM8OM-h1XMUV-AZPj2gxdc-nm_wG3-GePEtXLv-zczBs_ucaI/s5000/2024-01-11_PacSymp_DG-4303.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="5000" data-original-width="3225" height="280" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdYoaFkrmPRu_X17RgEYEzcZRAQ0HG4qL1eSt1F21MbAivFfLzGvbIHQrMm3TELWAhfIoCceaET_xo3eFF6f70PXINAlE85PqwFSvHFYHv7kMlGlIuvM3nH6JQoJl6Xfp28ss3x9lWj2jM8OM-h1XMUV-AZPj2gxdc-nm_wG3-GePEtXLv-zczBs_ucaI/s320/2024-01-11_PacSymp_DG-4303.jpg" width="180" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"></td></tr></tbody></table>In some exceptionally pointful and cogent comments before his performance with the Pacific Symphony of Ralph Vaughan Williams’ <i>Symphony No. 6 in E minor</i> (1944-1947), the young British guest conductor Matthew Halls (<i>right</i>) noted the impact that the work had initially made following its London premiere in 1948: around 100 performances within a year, including US debuts under Koussevitzky in Boston and New York conducted by Stokowski.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">So—it’s legitimate to ask—what happened? Why is it not now a staple of the orchestral repertoire? One answer, of course, is the way Modernism’s hegemony over much of the musical world in the post-war decades deemed tonal composers like RVW backward-looking and irrelevant, as well as the reputational slough and neglect into which his work fell after his death, as seems inevitable for most composers. And perhaps particularly in the US, given the enduring popularity here of works like <i>The Lark Ascending</i>, he seems to have become pigeon-holed as a minor composer of comfort: nostalgic, lyrical, and “safe.”</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">This performance, therefore—the Pacific Symphony’s first in its 46-year history—could not have been more welcome. Of few symphonies could it be more truthfully said that it begins with a climax and works upwards from there, and Mr. Halls and the orchestra absolutely nailed the vertiginously powerful opening with a crackling unanimity and intensity that bespoke hours of rehearsal very well spent.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9VErWzX8DTD5T0ed0rkoLf11lf8PemVkjFCZMtd4kgjaOdXd2j2RrdZWg4XNaGlxQL5xTAjpenPESoTLkkC4VJmDu3FisXOhmAoE-TTIrA2UkszL0xKwxHoEfi5uSfzwXvg_ke8n1PALq404_UQgiifuY68jmHOsIT7t703nD46CEy-jlvq6FEB2c36Y/s1080/RVW%201949.png" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1080" data-original-width="889" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9VErWzX8DTD5T0ed0rkoLf11lf8PemVkjFCZMtd4kgjaOdXd2j2RrdZWg4XNaGlxQL5xTAjpenPESoTLkkC4VJmDu3FisXOhmAoE-TTIrA2UkszL0xKwxHoEfi5uSfzwXvg_ke8n1PALq404_UQgiifuY68jmHOsIT7t703nD46CEy-jlvq6FEB2c36Y/s320/RVW%201949.png" width="263" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Ralph Vaughan Williams in 1949.</td></tr></tbody></table>Not having listened to the symphony closely for quite a few years, and thus coming relatively fresh to it, what struck me anew was the way in which Vaughan Williams took the time-honored four-movement symphonic layout and made something entirely original and unexpected out of it, with not a wasted note or redundant gesture, fitting his expressive purpose like the proverbial glove.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">Of course, Mr. Halls’ mastery of its processes and the Pacific Symphony’s fervent response had much to do with the impact. Within the first movement, both the “jazzy” <i>Poco animato</i> interlude and then the aspiring <i>cantabile</i> “second subject” melody first heard on upper strings were paced so that their emergence felt entirely organic. And later, despite the movement’s many <i>fortissimo</i> eruptions, conductor and orchestra kept enough in the tank for the final precipice-toppling E major onslaught (the PacSO’s bass drum player giving it his considerable all here!) to truly climax the movement, and make its collapse onto the alien B-flat minor terrain of the second movement seem as inevitable as it was sinister.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">Initially I felt the tempo for this a shade fast but rapidly recanted. The movement is, after all, marked <i>Moderato</i> rather than anything slower, and Mr. Halls’ control of pace gave the three-note “rat-tat-tat” rhythm initially heard quietly on strings and woodwind—and soon to migrate to brass and percussion—the appropriate sense of urgency as well as foreboding, and with the added benefit of avoiding any feeling of monotony in the lengthy ebb and flow of multi-divided strings that intercede before that rhythm starts to return.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgkb_Lrt_Fsl5nDhbu4xBpkWKp8kKK7wgdz6CJt8JELT_Dd8w4xrU8PG-6_lucRgmxQfLKqbsWxWUNxXR1CPiEJbayrrB-qNPFRIuGC5Y2iISwD6oi1vtk-zGqlpwavxGfABr1MvI81-6JIHhMjQVGYHFdvQxo3V_uOo1_H_euBpj7sPoK_wxLKjaIQDrQ/s468/Cafe%20de%20paris%20before.jpg" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="362" data-original-width="468" height="155" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgkb_Lrt_Fsl5nDhbu4xBpkWKp8kKK7wgdz6CJt8JELT_Dd8w4xrU8PG-6_lucRgmxQfLKqbsWxWUNxXR1CPiEJbayrrB-qNPFRIuGC5Y2iISwD6oi1vtk-zGqlpwavxGfABr1MvI81-6JIHhMjQVGYHFdvQxo3V_uOo1_H_euBpj7sPoK_wxLKjaIQDrQ/w200-h155/Cafe%20de%20paris%20before.jpg" width="200" /></a></div>And now it emerges with a blunt intensity matching anything comparable by Shostakovich, eventually to build in three great waves to the only <i>fff</i> climax in the whole symphony, as if some nightmare evil is perceived clearly for the first time. Again, Mr. Halls and the orchestra held back enough to give this the culminating ferocity it demands, after which the poignant English horn solo with which the movement ends had exactly the right feel of haunted shock.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjw_4tC0UKc-GPBI7JYZcC2VKAbY730xVdFVAdgItaz9mjTuqGdwAQMKIQ6fCzMlUyrzPH2e5w9XdhFZ5SB1_ulcp0XJCveeqNbd9PaaJ6I-y7TRS0Dx1XpvCCGQhPwCXszwBKkfaKFdEN3DhaIguZES6X8WIYQkzTgSQIme3O2XMH_Z3ydsQ-Ad5i0zZU/s468/Cafe%20de%20Paris%20after.jpg" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="376" data-original-width="468" height="161" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjw_4tC0UKc-GPBI7JYZcC2VKAbY730xVdFVAdgItaz9mjTuqGdwAQMKIQ6fCzMlUyrzPH2e5w9XdhFZ5SB1_ulcp0XJCveeqNbd9PaaJ6I-y7TRS0Dx1XpvCCGQhPwCXszwBKkfaKFdEN3DhaIguZES6X8WIYQkzTgSQIme3O2XMH_Z3ydsQ-Ad5i0zZU/w200-h161/Cafe%20de%20Paris%20after.jpg" width="200" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Café de Paris before (<i>top</i>) and <br />after (<i>below</i>) the 1941 bombing <br />(the Café de Paris re-opened <br />in 1948, but finally closed for <br />good in 2020, due to Covid).</td></tr></tbody></table>All four movements are linked, and here the <i>Scherzo</i> roared and chattered straight out of the starting-gate as <i>Allegro vivace</i> as anyone could wish. Though not so marked, it has a clear “trio” section, in which a saxophone solo riffs in tribute to the band musicians killed when London’s Café de Paris night club was bombed in the Blitz (the player here stood to make the most of his solo). The <i>Scherzo</i> returns, yet more raucous, but blows itself out and then winds down to the start of the fourth movement <i>Epilogue</i>.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">The meaning of this finale, marked <i>pianissimo</i> throughout with the barest hints of dynamic change, was the subject of intense speculation from the day it was first heard. In his introductory remarks Mr. Halls had characterized it, and indeed the whole symphony, as an “invitation into a dreamworld,” noting also Vaughan Williams’ later and perhaps reluctant invocation of Shakespeare’s Prospero: “<i>I think we can get in words nearest to the substance of my last movement in </i>‘We are such stuff as dreams are made on, and our little life is rounded by <i>[sic]</i> a sleep.<i>’</i>”</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">Whatever extra-musical meaning the <i>Epilogue</i> may or may not have, Mr. Halls and the PacSO crowned the symphony with an ideally-paced account of it (<i>Moderato</i>, so not really slow). Despite the all-pervading hush, almost all of Vaughan Williams’ large forces contribute in turn to the shifting, glacial texture: paradoxically perhaps, only total concentration can realise fully this finale’s paralyzed stasis, and the orchestra did their conductor proud. Only with a measurable interval after the final <i>niente</i> fade did the audience, admirably silent throughout, break into hesitant applause, and that was just as it shoud be.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidtFL1CXe-GQOQLmP-w7cTGVNcMJ28gCcIT-5ucmpGlNLjvs8LKDcz02T8EPAalyzO37jKzda46P6EScHCvkKmbKT-kH8Hoc7ubLch87zBdEZm4aKPVW8QOSSDyscP9Xnyhyphenhyphenc0C7JlnUMjBSXWzAXhE2DfreqO0LwruFrVQFALFXij7Tu1-x7Xi6M4mpA/s5000/2024-01-11_PacSymp_DG-5414.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2856" data-original-width="5000" height="229" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidtFL1CXe-GQOQLmP-w7cTGVNcMJ28gCcIT-5ucmpGlNLjvs8LKDcz02T8EPAalyzO37jKzda46P6EScHCvkKmbKT-kH8Hoc7ubLch87zBdEZm4aKPVW8QOSSDyscP9Xnyhyphenhyphenc0C7JlnUMjBSXWzAXhE2DfreqO0LwruFrVQFALFXij7Tu1-x7Xi6M4mpA/w400-h229/2024-01-11_PacSymp_DG-5414.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br /><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="text-align: left;">The program’s first item had been Sibelius’s first tone-poem, <i>En Saga, Op. 9</i>, completed in 1892. Just as RVW a few years after his <i>Sixth Symphony</i>’s premiere had extensively revised its <i>Scherzo</i>, so a half-century earlier had his admired Finnish contemporary withdrawn and recast <i>En Saga</i> for an upcoming Berlin performance. But even in its final, much tightened-up version (both versions can be <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9f6PCPqbLoA&t=44s">heard on YouTube</a>) <i>En Saga</i> is very repetitive, and to avoid any hint of monotony needed the sure guiding hand that Mr. Halls straight away showed.</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="text-align: left;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="text-align: left;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKmIB-jBQL6_v4enGSzpBJQ_270ruVJpHDUyFbWc8Wtq_MSFbDk4r3sZn1VSvZlNwiaMt0lnFaG5gsAmDnL00pxpOmdi1q5ZKgjH38Qj2fJMHZzJ_vnoiq-9X1cRQ3vjV6cPArtr0DobfnuLfsjsV5z4d6ecC88zl29L2s-Dm4hap48XuoRudBL-pzQxU/s1170/Sibelius_1891_(cropped).jpeg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1170" data-original-width="814" height="280" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKmIB-jBQL6_v4enGSzpBJQ_270ruVJpHDUyFbWc8Wtq_MSFbDk4r3sZn1VSvZlNwiaMt0lnFaG5gsAmDnL00pxpOmdi1q5ZKgjH38Qj2fJMHZzJ_vnoiq-9X1cRQ3vjV6cPArtr0DobfnuLfsjsV5z4d6ecC88zl29L2s-Dm4hap48XuoRudBL-pzQxU/s320/Sibelius_1891_(cropped).jpeg" width="195" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Jean Sibelius in 1891.</td></tr></tbody></table>The Pacific Symphony launched the work with a bright purposefulness far removed from the gravity of some performances. <i>En Saga</i> has no specific narrative, but Sibelius noted that it embodied “<i>painful experiences </i>[…]<i> in no other work have I revealed myself so completely.</i>” The tale it tells is thus interior rather than exterior, reflecting who-knows-what personal dramas, and for whatever reason its energy evaporates mid-way.
This central <i>Lento assai</i> section needs particularly astute handling if it is not to sound as if the composer has simply run out of ideas, but this was what it received, so that the eventual reinvigoration had a real sense of repurposing.</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="text-align: left;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="text-align: left;">Surprisingly, as with the <i>Sixth Symphony</i>, this was also the first time the Pacific Symphony had programmed <i>En Saga</i>, but under Mr. Halls they played it not only with commitment but a noticeable sense of ease and familiarity. Altogether it was an auspicious start to the concert.</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="text-align: left;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="text-align: left;">The program’s titular draw was Tchaikovsky’s <i>Violin Concerto in D major Op. 35</i> (1878), in which the soloist was definitely not a newcomer. The first and last thing to be said about the account by the Taiwan-born Paul Huang, in what was clearly the warmest of partnerships with Mr. Halls and the Pacific Symphony, was that it sounded fresh-minted from beginning to end, as if all concerned had just discovered the work and were delighted with it.</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="text-align: left;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhuqiKbUGql0LEDs8f8cJvKeppq8JJjty_s96Um1dagrLlgZhasNXDfJu60gczODUqAvQK44EW4iNV4I4C4zPFl1uU-M9UZZX-AkQaCfJ9W4OP86ORafiRxV0EVv-ygAS7OFPp3QcQU7k5lfICDfYvQ7JiYIcxubTArsbTeRRghsc9t6oZWBtU6h7lu8Ro/s3978/2024-01-11_PacSymp_DG-3364.jpg" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3693" data-original-width="3978" height="232" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhuqiKbUGql0LEDs8f8cJvKeppq8JJjty_s96Um1dagrLlgZhasNXDfJu60gczODUqAvQK44EW4iNV4I4C4zPFl1uU-M9UZZX-AkQaCfJ9W4OP86ORafiRxV0EVv-ygAS7OFPp3QcQU7k5lfICDfYvQ7JiYIcxubTArsbTeRRghsc9t6oZWBtU6h7lu8Ro/w320-h297/2024-01-11_PacSymp_DG-3364.jpg" width="250" /></a></div><span style="text-align: left;">Having unearthed a pocket score, and with the Segerstrom blessedly one of the few venues that doesn’t turn the lights down so far that you can’t follow along, I found that early on in the first movement I'd at some time penciled "limp orchestra," presumably at a now-forgotten earlier performance. Not here! Indeed, Mr. Halls later called the Pacific Symphony (here with each section of the strings reduced by a desk from the full complement deployed in <i>En Saga</i>—an interesting textural decision) the best accompanying orchestra he had ever worked with, and who would deny him?</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="text-align: left;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="text-align: left;">The 19-minute length of the first movement seemed to soar past in half the time, ending in such a blaze of energy that some the audience, either driven by excess enthusiasm or in the mistaken belief that it was the end of the concerto, started a standing ovation that brought many more to the vertical before realizing the error.</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="text-align: left;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="text-align: left;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQZCJKLImzUy75mVAS_6zILMniZg23AZ75NoIaqkT58YcT-hUVuCbNEQvQO-avKU8KmCfdbj22fJYB2p8Q6k9gT0B_ki7qVsF69U95g5sRvph-I_fXxo3lZZv_c1fMdpylyTvDqC4WbDqKFxCJvnjqxYz3assmogHcCAWHHGKozvEQ3g_crwxbDk5cohg/s919/Tchaikovsky%20in%20San%20Remo,%201878%20cropped.jpeg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="919" data-original-width="376" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQZCJKLImzUy75mVAS_6zILMniZg23AZ75NoIaqkT58YcT-hUVuCbNEQvQO-avKU8KmCfdbj22fJYB2p8Q6k9gT0B_ki7qVsF69U95g5sRvph-I_fXxo3lZZv_c1fMdpylyTvDqC4WbDqKFxCJvnjqxYz3assmogHcCAWHHGKozvEQ3g_crwxbDk5cohg/s320/Tchaikovsky%20in%20San%20Remo,%201878%20cropped.jpeg" width="131" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Tchaikovsky in San <br />Remo, Italy, in 1878.</td></tr></tbody></table>Maybe this fazed the players, as Tchaikovsky’s exquisite 12-measure woodwind introduction to the <i>Cantilena</i>, full of delicate shadings between <i>pianissimo</i> and <i>pìu forte</i>, emerged as a slightly perfunctory continuous <i>mezzo-forte</i>. But Mr. Huang’s muted solo entrance, <i>piano</i> and <i>molto espressivo</i>, seemed to right the ship, and the movement continued with all the sensitivity and nuance it needs as an oasis of calm reflection between the rhetorical majesty of the first movement and the headlong finale.</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="text-align: left;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="text-align: left;">Never one to understate his requirements, Tchaikovsky marks the latter <i>Allegro vivacissimo</i>—and it was, though never with the sense that anyone involved was hanging on for dear life. It was supremely exhilarating throughout, and without the cuts that have sometimes disfigured performances in the past: soloist, conductor, and orchestra finally got their deserved standing ovation, in the right place!</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="text-align: left;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="text-align: left;">This was a most welcome return for Paul Huang, and a formidable SoCal debut by Matthew Halls. Let’s hope he is invited back soon, and brings with him another great British symphony: any of Vaughan Williams’ other eight, say, or Elgar’s two—or, to get a little more esoteric, E. J. Moeran, Arnold Bax, or Havergal Brian. Conversely, there are some great British violin concertos…</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="text-align: left;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="text-align: left;">---ooo---</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="text-align: left;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: left;">
Pacific Symphony Orchestra, Renée and Henry Segerstrom Concert Hall, Thursday January 11, 2024, 8 p.m.</div><div style="text-align: left;">Images: The performers: Doug Gifford; Vaughan Williams: Douglas Glass, courtesy National Portrait Gallery; Café de Paris: Daily Mail; Sibelius: Wikimedia Commons; Tchaikovsky: tchaikovsky-research.net.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;"><i>If you found this review enjoyable, interesting, or informative, please feel free to <b><a href="https://www.buymeacoffee.com/davidjbrown10">Buy Me A Coffee</a></b>!
</i></div>David J Brownhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08224977724583670873noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9194809435670809838.post-2604983306786546572024-01-09T23:03:00.000-08:002024-01-17T19:33:13.803-08:00Duo Syncopa Shine at Classical Crossroads’ "First Friday"<br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgkTX5qRdJA54lULLOzZpWar4LME0N7wIgW8O0bkvYZ-huGlAJkyqyIL0cxwhfGqnGX3YWy2I2OWiLFecYhbArvSU9DkmWPnIb-klGko5v2qqnCLAt1Pk2xEvTwXQJ3-fKNzGiz02keAbFxhmjMbFzxEe9JmihIsv18p2P6hXTqhnjeMOuQmwDIiDxmiqs/s1920/Duo%20Syncopa.png" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1080" data-original-width="1920" height="293" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgkTX5qRdJA54lULLOzZpWar4LME0N7wIgW8O0bkvYZ-huGlAJkyqyIL0cxwhfGqnGX3YWy2I2OWiLFecYhbArvSU9DkmWPnIb-klGko5v2qqnCLAt1Pk2xEvTwXQJ3-fKNzGiz02keAbFxhmjMbFzxEe9JmihIsv18p2P6hXTqhnjeMOuQmwDIiDxmiqs/w640-h360/Duo%20Syncopa.png" width="520" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Duo Syncopa: Yue Qian (violin) and Tomomi Sato (piano).</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><div>REVIEW</div><div><br /></div><div>Duo Syncopa, First Fridays at First!~fff, First Lutheran Church, Torrance</div><div>DAVID J BROWN</div><div><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">Back in May 2023 the first in a proposed series of classical chamber music recitals at the San Pedro venue <a href="https://www.collageartculture.org/">Collage</a> showcased the talents of <a href="https://www.tomomisato-piano.com/duo-syncopa">Duo Syncopa</a> (violinist Yue Qian and pianist Tomomi Sato) and was <a href="https://www.laopus.com/2023/05/chamber-musics-welcome-arrival-in.html">reviewed here</a>. Thus far that’s been Collage’s one-and-only venture into the field, but these fine musicians springboarded to the more established territory of <a href="http://www.palosverdes.com/classicalcrossroads/">Classical Crossroads, Inc.</a>, and at the first “First Friday” recital of 2024 presented two relatively unfamiliar classics sandwiching a 21st century novelty.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgN23BbQtroWhLm6yAGDDhg0oFLAWxyKUoGOTAlVBnaQ4oyjS08TJv8YbGSy_fsyeUO-LGuC_Xw7E-VjB6IIXHGCNqMGTS40PV4w_mtKWR-gEEzLnsSckqkxfJbjlhFIS3mZxDkpskAR4v8BB5gK5S8darFIAOYL5kzwkrXbpN2o26t8ZRPXgAQa2EVDDY/s921/Clara%20and%20Robert%20Schumann,%201850.%20Getty%20Images.png" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="921" data-original-width="691" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgN23BbQtroWhLm6yAGDDhg0oFLAWxyKUoGOTAlVBnaQ4oyjS08TJv8YbGSy_fsyeUO-LGuC_Xw7E-VjB6IIXHGCNqMGTS40PV4w_mtKWR-gEEzLnsSckqkxfJbjlhFIS3mZxDkpskAR4v8BB5gK5S8darFIAOYL5kzwkrXbpN2o26t8ZRPXgAQa2EVDDY/s320/Clara%20and%20Robert%20Schumann,%201850.%20Getty%20Images.png" width="225" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Clara and Robert Schumann.</td></tr></tbody></table>In April 1849, when Robert Schumann played for his wife Clara some “<i>new pieces for piano and violoncello,</i>” she remarked that they “<i>…are of the nature of folk-tunes, and have a freshness and originality which delighted me.</i>" Their publication two years later was indeed as <i>Fünf Stücke im Volkston, Op.102</i>, but as Duo Syncopa’s insightful performance (in Schumann’s alternative version for violin and piano) showed, they overall describe an expressive arc that’s distinctly more than the sum of their parts.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">The first, marked <i>Mit Humor</i>, certainly had all the expected foot-stamping jollity, with Schumann’s heavy accent on the tune’s three-note downward stomp duly relished and a ringing bell-like quality in the movement’s central section, but <i>#II, Langsam</i>, immediately extended the emotional territory with its serene lilt, where Ms. Qian carefully distinguished the <i>piano</i> and <i>pianissimo</i> elements of Schumann’s long-breathed melody.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">With <i>#III, Nicht schnell, mit viel Ton zu spielen</i>, the introspective mood deepens, but in <i>#IV, Nicht zu rasch</i>, Schumann brusquely shakes himself free. And then the last movement, strongly projected by Duo Syncopa as per its <i>Stark und markiert</i> instruction, though just as energetic further introduces a defiant element whose abruptly dismissive final cadence ends the work in markedly different expressive territory from its cheerful peasant-dance start.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdcCQH-KjfRujO8et-lhXeKU4OKmjkmNyO1Z8G9k6UwaEza4QKLBD5zfJ_u6JTBmfdqcvhASYR2eAldMZvTQIUkMU5RhqjcGodffg2couk4XPwPAnsuXs2lESoVCfhs-x6UEhENHjS57sDvvXWPe-qQk6zRElyRLb-NXNEbrC8evaziGfwu_Y3H8ifl9o/s577/Jonathan%20Mitchell.png" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="577" data-original-width="384" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdcCQH-KjfRujO8et-lhXeKU4OKmjkmNyO1Z8G9k6UwaEza4QKLBD5zfJ_u6JTBmfdqcvhASYR2eAldMZvTQIUkMU5RhqjcGodffg2couk4XPwPAnsuXs2lESoVCfhs-x6UEhENHjS57sDvvXWPe-qQk6zRElyRLb-NXNEbrC8evaziGfwu_Y3H8ifl9o/w133-h200/Jonathan%20Mitchell.png" width="133" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Jonathan Mitchell.</td></tr></tbody></table>The young Chicago-based composer Jonathan Mitchell is a Fellow of the Gabriela Lena Frank Creative Academy of Music’s Bahlest Eeble Readings program. As Ms. Qian explained, his <i>Lighten Up!</i> is a cycle of 12 pieces, subtitled “<i>Twelve Notes to Self</i>,” that chronicles his own creativity and is divided into four “chapters” of which the first two are headed “<i>Dissatisfaction</i>” and “<i>Fixation</i>.” Duo Syncopa played the first of the latter, <i>Whose Line Is It Anyway?</i></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">In this context, the “fixation” is on the music that already exists—Mitchell’s “baggage,” or in his own question “<i>How do I manage the tension between the old and the new?</i>”
The result proved to be an amiable five-minute tour through some celebrated “old,” beginning with the <i>Aria</i> from J. S. Bach’s <i>Goldberg Variations</i> and climaxing in an effective and affectionately played meditation on Elgar’s “<i>Enigma</i>” theme, before neatly eliding back to the Bach. Perhaps the remainder of <i>Lighten Up!</i> reveals Mitchell’s own expressive voice.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">Ms. Sato then introduced the final, and major item in the program, Schubert’s <i>Fantasie in C Major for Piano and Violin, Op. posth. 159, D.934</i>. This, she said, is one of her favorite works, and arguably even more difficult (for a violinist) than contemporary pieces by Paganini. What she didn’t say was that the piano part is also hugely elaborate and demanding—to the extent that no-one, surely, would dream of tackling it unless they not only had the technical skills but also were convinced of its worth.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOM1WmwS6itCiev05tSkfNqZ0Si5z1RjrivwaAsB-tdgrTMPC1Tx96RgzgZd2CTM2y0vcul4GC2jUXsO6HG_EfkyLkadGC7dMuhMcwrI7Uo4QCevLdG5W9K3E_UpkdiMTUKjacu1T9Sx0201aRtHvlUPtF9apzaId8_tKhi35HL13YUvmtoI7ieR_e37I/s661/Josef%20Slavik.png" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="661" data-original-width="510" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOM1WmwS6itCiev05tSkfNqZ0Si5z1RjrivwaAsB-tdgrTMPC1Tx96RgzgZd2CTM2y0vcul4GC2jUXsO6HG_EfkyLkadGC7dMuhMcwrI7Uo4QCevLdG5W9K3E_UpkdiMTUKjacu1T9Sx0201aRtHvlUPtF9apzaId8_tKhi35HL13YUvmtoI7ieR_e37I/w154-h200/Josef%20Slavik.png" width="154" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Josef Slavík.</td></tr></tbody></table>After all, following the <i>Fantasie</i>’s premiere by the young Bohemian violin virtuoso Josef Slavík (1806-1833) in January 1828, only a month after its completion, a contemporary critic wrote that it “<i>occupied rather too much of the time a Viennese is prepared to devote to pleasures of the mind. The hall emptied gradually, and the writer confesses that he too is unable to say anything about the conclusion of the piece</i>.”</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">Had he stayed, he might just have got it. The <i>Fantasie</i> is not only the last and longest of Schubert’s works for violin and piano, but through its seven linked sections describes an asymmetrical structural arc of great originality. The first section, <i>Andante molto</i>, introduces a long-breathed violin melody over piano <i>ostinati</i>, both parts marked <i>pianissimo</i>. Duo Syncopa’s account was ideally poised between the other-worldly serenity so often met with in late Schubert and a sense of onward progress and implicit discovery.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjytbHuqg5IXxOE6Z9BBDhcXwx8SOANicHlMwjFnUcw_4K5c_1o8kGpjoF_2riZziW1FGTdGwuN4agqqPQKb9-87et237hRjnUG82oyQuK65jPC3y7eQLEv5ssvqC7meBjVt64jIuwCPKcIa_Xjx7OleqCENDk3MzfU3FtxZZDzn250flEVr5qDRit-IMM/s457/Schubert_c1827.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="457" data-original-width="356" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjytbHuqg5IXxOE6Z9BBDhcXwx8SOANicHlMwjFnUcw_4K5c_1o8kGpjoF_2riZziW1FGTdGwuN4agqqPQKb9-87et237hRjnUG82oyQuK65jPC3y7eQLEv5ssvqC7meBjVt64jIuwCPKcIa_Xjx7OleqCENDk3MzfU3FtxZZDzn250flEVr5qDRit-IMM/s320/Schubert_c1827.jpg" width="249" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Franz Schubert, c.1827.</td></tr></tbody></table>Only 36 measures long, this arrives at a long-held <i>fermata</i> over a chord of E major, before precipitating into a vigorous <i>Allegretto</i>. With some hints of a sonata design, its six sub-sections dance through a wealth of intricate interplay between violin and piano, faultlessly executed by Duo Syncopa, before arriving at another <i>fermata</i>, leading to the <i>Fantasie</i>’s third section.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">This is the heart of the work, and comprises a long theme—drawn from Schubert’s own <i>lied</i>, <i>Sei mir gegrüßt (Greetings), D. 741</i>, of some six years earlier—and three variations of increasing textural elaboration. Schubert marks both halves of each variation to be repeated, and Duo Syncopa’s decision to observe every one of the repeats was triumphantly vindicated, with subtle adjustments to pace, dynamic, and balance keeping any chance of monotony firmly at bay.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">At this point, I suppose one might feel some slight sympathy with that first-time Viennese audience, by now almost 20 minutes into a work with no obvious overall shape yet discernible and no clue where it might yet go. What in fact happens is a coda to the third variation that ends with a long drawn cadence into a definite “ah-ha!” moment—a reprise of the opening melody.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">Now Schubert’s masterplan emerges. This fourth section is much shorter than that opening, as is the next, a recapitulation of the <i>Allegretto</i>, now up-tempo-ed to <i>Allegro vivace</i>. Then Schubert draw the strings tighter yet on his grand design with a revisit of the variation theme: surely it’s not all beginning again? No, this last appearance is a brief 26 measures only, after which a whirlwind <i>Presto</i> brings what is surely one of the less-lauded treasures of Schubert’s miraculous final year of creativity to its conclusion.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">Both in their measure-by-measure mastery of its intricacies and in their overall pacing and shaping of the grand design, Ms. Qian and Ms. Sato thoroughly had the <i>Fantasie</i> under their fingers and in their heads and hearts, as you can hear for yourselves in the <a href="https://vimeo.com/900695469">recording on Vimeo</a> thoughtfully provided by Classical Crossroads. Let’s hope they return soon. </div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">---oo---</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">“First Fridays at First!~fff,” First Lutheran Church, Torrance, 12.15pm, Friday, January 5, 2024.</div><div style="text-align: left;">Images: The performers: Classical Crossroads, Inc.; The Schumanns: Getty images; Jonathan Mitchell: Gabriela Lena Frank Creative Academy of Music; Josef Slavík: Encyklopedie Praha 2; Schubert: Wikimedia Commons.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><i><br /></i></div><div style="text-align: left;"><i>If you found this review to be useful, interesting, or informative, please feel free to <b><a href="https://www.buymeacoffee.com/davidjbrown10">Buy Me A Coffee</a></b>!</i></div>David J Brownhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08224977724583670873noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9194809435670809838.post-84074958156626918702023-12-01T10:51:00.000-08:002023-12-01T10:55:31.214-08:00Scandinavian Passion Streams in Seattle<p style="text-align: justify;"><br /></p><p style="text-align: justify;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGu0SZEwiDDor_kv-afqxUzhOKP543cbdfizRW8jGbxrXXiIZUdzGjhhHhCtc_Db5JYFC-5hbbsd_15jqHFOy2JX__ejsi_2qm6LZgbLng7Vo486gP6mpmiSpFEBjRzLRRQXi-gnjuAVI2AJvdeTP3X4UoMj5m2ayScoUOJzamv6pSmAhlliT-y61rUtM/s6000/Stasevska%20Patoc-copy.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4000" data-original-width="6000" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGu0SZEwiDDor_kv-afqxUzhOKP543cbdfizRW8jGbxrXXiIZUdzGjhhHhCtc_Db5JYFC-5hbbsd_15jqHFOy2JX__ejsi_2qm6LZgbLng7Vo486gP6mpmiSpFEBjRzLRRQXi-gnjuAVI2AJvdeTP3X4UoMj5m2ayScoUOJzamv6pSmAhlliT-y61rUtM/s320/Stasevska%20Patoc-copy.jpeg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><p></p><p style="text-align: justify;">REVIEW: Seattle Symphony</p><p style="text-align: justify;">Benaroya Hall, Seattle</p><p style="text-align: justify;">ERICA MINER</p><div style="text-align: justify;">Two contemporary compositions provided the framework for the haunting, ebullient Symphony No. 5 in E-flat major, Op. 82 by iconic Finnish composer Jean Sibelius in a recent program, performed live in Benaroya Hall on Nov. 16, 2023, and streamed on the innovative Seattle Symphony+ service. Helmed by Finnish conductor Dalia Stasevska, who debuted with the orchestra in 2022, the program was intriguing and captivating. </div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">Stasevska, who holds the positions of Chief Conductor of the Lahti Symphony Orchestra, Artistic Director to the International Sibelius Festival, and Principal Guest Conductor of BBC Symphony Orchestra, showed her talent and expertise in a wide scope of works that were traditional, starkly contemporary, and beguilingly original.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTEAuAhKUUkgN9Vq3ibg-dtt3bRejyDDL20VcLWz_WU_whcadv6UQeoeLo_Xzf4D3_PBXyK_wXhLWMXHP_KWcQCoQ_dfQG8tdmWcsg28H-pkJV-fHdpjoOGczLKjBWjtaWURoU_R_pHziP3kF907X-IGHATu0mcVVqkIRIVJZUp_A6LcFQDXXCnzN-6KQ/s6000/Stasevska%202%20Patoc-%20copy.jpeg" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4000" data-original-width="6000" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTEAuAhKUUkgN9Vq3ibg-dtt3bRejyDDL20VcLWz_WU_whcadv6UQeoeLo_Xzf4D3_PBXyK_wXhLWMXHP_KWcQCoQ_dfQG8tdmWcsg28H-pkJV-fHdpjoOGczLKjBWjtaWURoU_R_pHziP3kF907X-IGHATu0mcVVqkIRIVJZUp_A6LcFQDXXCnzN-6KQ/s320/Stasevska%202%20Patoc-%20copy.jpeg" width="320" /></a></div><div style="text-align: justify;">The program opened with <i>Nautilus</i> from Scottish composer and sound artist Anna Meredith, which originally was composed as an electronic work and debuted with Stasevska and the Lahti Symphony Orchestra. Meredith, known as one of Britain’s most groundbreaking composers, is equally comfortable in multiple worlds—contemporary classical, art pop, soundtracks, techno and experimental rock. She has used such unusual techniques as clapping and stomping to substitute for instruments. <i>Nautilus,</i> a high-energy, continuous stream of movement, appeared on Meredith’s debut album, <i>Varmints</i>. The composer, who claims to have created the orchestral atmosphere while tramping on a Scottish beach, uses varied rhythms that mirrored her steps.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">The conductor started the piece with an appropriately aggressive energy, which is needed given the work’s repetitive nature: mostly rhythm, little or no melody. The extensive use of the brass served as a good warmup for the Sibelius to come in the second half of the program, and also an effective workout for the percussion section. One wonders if the piece would be more appealing in the electronic version.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">In an intriguing twist, Stasevska shared the stage with her husband Lauri Porra, whose <i>Entropia</i> Concerto for Electric Bass was the second piece on the program. Porra, a great-grandson of Sibelius, is well-known in his native Finland as bassist for the popular power metal band Stratovarius and his own jazz/rock band, the Flyover Ensemble. He prefaced his performance with an engaging introductory speech about the importance of the orchestra as “the greatest instrument,” the little-known fact that the electric bass was invented in Seattle, and the use of entropy in the context of the chaos in combining the “brutal” nature of the electric bass with the beauty of the orchestra.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGk18e9COBsscV4aH5fSO4OzgphCJHDkK0IKSjQ5mmGdO_mrMqcMJtw8WM23xfkpIr1uXV8v4fR0B57tYC28Fow2WbWSbmzdVZHyfs7QqJPSRG3RAUuOePHD6GzW2wGRv6_JUYf-KkmVs4FkDmB2IN5gCer7SPtpw7F5BrJuzdgJlpXxgDXREbA_S9YIY/s6000/Porra%201%20Brandon-Patoc%20copy.jpeg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4000" data-original-width="6000" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGk18e9COBsscV4aH5fSO4OzgphCJHDkK0IKSjQ5mmGdO_mrMqcMJtw8WM23xfkpIr1uXV8v4fR0B57tYC28Fow2WbWSbmzdVZHyfs7QqJPSRG3RAUuOePHD6GzW2wGRv6_JUYf-KkmVs4FkDmB2IN5gCer7SPtpw7F5BrJuzdgJlpXxgDXREbA_S9YIY/s320/Porra%201%20Brandon-Patoc%20copy.jpeg" width="320" /></a></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><i>Entropia </i>combines mysterious elements with a journey from tranquility to frenzied sounds and back to calmness. The electric bass provides melody and rhythm that is ever propelling forward. The combination of symphony with a bass guitar is an arresting one for the audience. Porra manages to meld the contrast between the two by connecting their two different worlds; thus the entropic allegory emerges by the meeting of musical minds that symbolically represent change in its limitless variations.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">With the use of many special effects characteristic of the guitar itself, and many cadenza-type passages, the effect was at times meditative, at times chaotic, at times rock-jazzy. The orchestra writing seemed aleatoric in parts, but Stasevska controlled her forces ably, made the most of the melodic passages, and provided the steady beats needed by the orchestra, leading to a lyrical ending. The audience was pleased with the result. Concertmaster Noah Geller made an impressive showing in the extensive concerto-like violin solo.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGxu_MyHN8ap5yKAaPuQHmBblSH30LlsmMm-P-ZIk_1n7Pk5mTiHf5AKlZ0tTA8PW4BYR9pKrZ7xhiqfMmRK5koFi6MY-GWOr7YN2qmPB0PC_RNNVJ5VzZPJq40EeRQ_OPG2tOMHkCgRAHtfIzkaUQX2NnsmVDlQYlwOPTMaqF1l42q-ixqsXB3ygUvnM/s6000/Stasevska-Porra-Patoc-copy.jpeg" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4000" data-original-width="6000" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGxu_MyHN8ap5yKAaPuQHmBblSH30LlsmMm-P-ZIk_1n7Pk5mTiHf5AKlZ0tTA8PW4BYR9pKrZ7xhiqfMmRK5koFi6MY-GWOr7YN2qmPB0PC_RNNVJ5VzZPJq40EeRQ_OPG2tOMHkCgRAHtfIzkaUQX2NnsmVDlQYlwOPTMaqF1l42q-ixqsXB3ygUvnM/s320/Stasevska-Porra-Patoc-copy.jpeg" width="320" /></a></div><div style="text-align: justify;">The 1915 Helsinki world premiere of the Sibelius Symphony No. 5 celebrated the Finnish cultural hero’s 50th birthday, a national holiday in Finland, in the midst of World War I. In an unusual structural move, the composer linked together the first two movements.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">One of the advantages of the streaming format is that the camera angles not only show closeups of the individual players, but those of the conductor as well. Stasevska demonstrated her affinity for her native music, not to mention a comprehensive knowledge of the score, with a clear understanding of the subtleties set forth in the opening. Her long-armed, broad strokes, rhythmic body gestures and heartfelt facial expressions drew both subtlety and splendor from the orchestra’s first-class wind and brass sections. Especially appealing were the profound brass chorales and agile dance-like expressions in the winds at the heart of the movement.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">The conductor then made the most of the delicacy of the pastoral-themed second movement with a gentle touch and perfectly paced tempo, then later by emphasizing the juxtaposition of the threatening hints of storm activity embodied in the timpani and brass.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">In his notebooks, Sibelius writes of the inspiration drawn from the flights of swans above his country home. The lively and energetic tempo that started the finale progressed deftly to its characteristic “swan hymn,” which came off powerfully under Stasevska’s direction and gave the excellent horn section its moment to shine. Stasevska then made the most of the striking expectedness of the final six chords, wrapping up the dynamic, triumphant climax with great command, power, and authority. </div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtYnPusVlt77NM80GvxFai5jeloPjJVC2RD5ovCJJD0a8ZpvUIvYUo7DwAmW8D8YeMLFAhhXbfu4dWRRxrqPo9fe8FLU5HBam6hjlIqr8eVdBfCDb4elRILlQBxWeYNzAqqWmiFE3Eqe5EfuCVSwqCmlvGqXU61HfEqZbC885cBgRxGMqrzavhpowcSis/s6000/Sibelius%20SSO%20orch%201-Patoc-%20copy.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4000" data-original-width="6000" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtYnPusVlt77NM80GvxFai5jeloPjJVC2RD5ovCJJD0a8ZpvUIvYUo7DwAmW8D8YeMLFAhhXbfu4dWRRxrqPo9fe8FLU5HBam6hjlIqr8eVdBfCDb4elRILlQBxWeYNzAqqWmiFE3Eqe5EfuCVSwqCmlvGqXU61HfEqZbC885cBgRxGMqrzavhpowcSis/w400-h266/Sibelius%20SSO%20orch%201-Patoc-%20copy.jpeg" width="400" /></a></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><div style="caret-color: rgb(51, 51, 51); color: #333333; font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 15.08px; text-align: center;">---ooo--- </div><p style="caret-color: rgb(51, 51, 51); color: #333333; font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 15.08px; line-height: 1.8em; margin: 0px 0px 0.75em; text-align: left;"><span style="background-color: white; font-size: 15.08px;"></span></p><div style="caret-color: rgb(51, 51, 51); color: #333333; font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 15.08px; text-align: left;"><span style="color: #1f1f1f; font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;">Photo credit: Brandon Patoc </span> </div><div style="caret-color: rgb(51, 51, 51); color: #333333; font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 15.08px; text-align: left;"><i>Erica can be reached at: eminer5472@gmail.com</i></div></div>Erica Minerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15981212553256317650noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9194809435670809838.post-64878358322292388702023-11-25T22:49:00.000-08:002023-11-28T19:08:30.754-08:00The LBSO Celebrates Innovation, Dance, and Diversity<div><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEho_i7WZ8iTLLgpvPva_5OqF-yB1IuwW5patEF32t0aYTkggAl368c-97NVVJwtaLpXt0q6-sORKd0neAf_tRarziFPMeBoVf_U23FitjVIF3FbJp-L5Pj5c5ApLHiNNSI1On7b_5b2lBMcFvHWonyLhLYNvnGO4ZJRhqAkpyg7eJoDtc2zmtknnK0xMQk/s2599/119%20LBSO%20231118%20copy.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1919" data-original-width="2599" height="384" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEho_i7WZ8iTLLgpvPva_5OqF-yB1IuwW5patEF32t0aYTkggAl368c-97NVVJwtaLpXt0q6-sORKd0neAf_tRarziFPMeBoVf_U23FitjVIF3FbJp-L5Pj5c5ApLHiNNSI1On7b_5b2lBMcFvHWonyLhLYNvnGO4ZJRhqAkpyg7eJoDtc2zmtknnK0xMQk/w640-h472/119%20LBSO%20231118%20copy.jpg" width="520" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Members of Long Beach Ballet dance Leonard Bernstein's <i>Fancy Free </i>with the Long Beach Symphony under Music Director Eckart Preu.</td></tr></tbody></table><br /></div><div>REVIEW</div><div><br /></div><div>Long Beach Symphony, Terrace Theater, Beverly O'Neill Performing Arts Center, Long Beach</div><div>DAVID J BROWN</div><div><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhV2yy6ehcEpWCEZqhWtHlExBBSsSAYMQ1L08LUDoyjp8DHmH7QniYZh45g5A18N-MKj7QFPfWzbBKjJff7ZHyjvou8PRdq0uFfQsiBF76UKVSNy6RpVw-5vvHM2n6HC6gQ81GOpAliqgSqkBkiyERsipffi1oyDfTp3Dxr5DxfQ-bGjLpTILatQ6jrFLQ/s5410/Igor_Stravinsky_LOC_32392u.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="5410" data-original-width="4477" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhV2yy6ehcEpWCEZqhWtHlExBBSsSAYMQ1L08LUDoyjp8DHmH7QniYZh45g5A18N-MKj7QFPfWzbBKjJff7ZHyjvou8PRdq0uFfQsiBF76UKVSNy6RpVw-5vvHM2n6HC6gQ81GOpAliqgSqkBkiyERsipffi1oyDfTp3Dxr5DxfQ-bGjLpTILatQ6jrFLQ/s320/Igor_Stravinsky_LOC_32392u.jpg" width="265" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Igor Stravinsky around 1920.</td></tr></tbody></table>The program devised by the Long Beach Symphony Orchestra’s Music Director Eckart Preu for the second concert in its <a href="https://longbeachsymphony.org/classical-2024/">2023-24 Classical Season</a> provided just about as rich and complex a web of musical and extra-musical cross-correspondences and references as could be imagined for a single evening. First was Stravinsky, with the Russian <i>émigré's </i>reach back to the late Italian Baroque for source material by Pergolesi to fuel his <i>commedia dell'arte</i> ballet <i>Pulcinella K. 034</i>—not the complete stage work but the eight-movement suite Stravinsky extracted from it two years after its 1920 Paris premiere.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">I suspect that limited rehearsal time had rather short-changed <i>Pulcinella</i> compared to subsequent items, but after a rather generalized (at least by Preu/LBSO’s exalted standards) account of the <i>Overture</i>, the performance steadily gained in clarity and character as it proceeded. Unlike some, their account of the <i>Serenata</i> (mvt II, <i>Larghetto</i>) did not milk its C minor pathos-potential, but kept it moving so that Principal oboe Rong-Huey Liu’s solo had just the right degree of featherlight wistfulness.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">The shifts and turns of the tripartite <i>Scherzino</i> (III) were nicely nuanced, though here as elsewhere the important parts for the string soloists (section Associate Principal Samuel Miller (bass), Principals Cécilia Tsan (cello), Andrew Duckles (viola), and Chloé Tardif (violin II), led by Roger Wilkie, Concertmaster) tended to be obscured in the Terrace Theater’s not ideal acoustic: it was good that they received generous call-outs from Maestro Preu at the end of the work.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIt3crTkAN9SY8ZeBKOnLMET4rGIVbHbuIl5AXSZcEPPi4-d-e4IUNreSC-46VwR6WgfjgvO7CTXRrNrJlGTSSX0Ah7fcpz_KeHq3NCMuOo_1yR_KeWsS6tPqXDhqIe-l-nXZSxIUk1H7p4DFwE_NHVChNvyoZlrPw4ZuNIdXfU5q1uFDiJf5UHmtf9is/s833/Screenshot%202023-11-26%20at%207.57.57%E2%80%AFPM.png" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="833" data-original-width="584" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIt3crTkAN9SY8ZeBKOnLMET4rGIVbHbuIl5AXSZcEPPi4-d-e4IUNreSC-46VwR6WgfjgvO7CTXRrNrJlGTSSX0Ah7fcpz_KeHq3NCMuOo_1yR_KeWsS6tPqXDhqIe-l-nXZSxIUk1H7p4DFwE_NHVChNvyoZlrPw4ZuNIdXfU5q1uFDiJf5UHmtf9is/w140-h200/Screenshot%202023-11-26%20at%207.57.57%E2%80%AFPM.png" width="140" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Design by Picasso for<br />Pulcinella's costume in the <br />original 1920 production.</td></tr></tbody></table>After a fleetly scurrying <i>Tarantella</i> (IV), the <i>Toccata</i> (V) was distinguished by a particularly virile contribution from Principal trumpet Miles McAllister, while all of the small wind body—pairs of flutes, oboes, bassoons, and horns—relished their collective and individual prominence in the <i>Gavotta con due variazioni</i> (VI). Principal trombone Alexander Isles’ <i>glissando</i> "raspberries" were notably fruity at the start of the <i>Vivo</i> (VII), with a vividly characterized bass solo later on from Mr. Miller.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">As with the <i>Serenata</i>, Maestro Preu purposefully avoided the lachrymose trudge some impart to the <i>Menuetto</i> first half (a) of movement VIII, so that it filled its proper role as a medium-paced introduction to the movement’s second half, (b) <i>Finale</i>, which in just two minutes manages to be both an affectionate call-back to reflective moments earlier in the work and a sprightly dash to the finish. Though the performance might have gained in clarity with a desk or two fewer strings to match Stravinsky’s small contingent of winds and brass, the LBSO was by now thoroughly warmed up—as was the audience to judge by its enthusiastic response.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_hAI9gTwTPMOXXO8eGFjZD_uvhBJMYUUZQeOyUg1uXoAnTTUGoQkTvKSnjW4rMuAP1Q6BNq0e79-yLfLbMjDX_qrjGIVs4vpLyHn8u72ZKFCduC5_7TTqjv86qa6-tOSJgDO5NyjcNb5wHTF-Ut_u1W_ESIARFkci6ujzx-dnsYABVEtnEwOCB5WI6gg/s3309/076%20LBSO%20231118.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1646" data-original-width="3309" height="199" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_hAI9gTwTPMOXXO8eGFjZD_uvhBJMYUUZQeOyUg1uXoAnTTUGoQkTvKSnjW4rMuAP1Q6BNq0e79-yLfLbMjDX_qrjGIVs4vpLyHn8u72ZKFCduC5_7TTqjv86qa6-tOSJgDO5NyjcNb5wHTF-Ut_u1W_ESIARFkci6ujzx-dnsYABVEtnEwOCB5WI6gg/w400-h199/076%20LBSO%20231118.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br /><div style="text-align: justify;">Among other things, this concert enshrined the LBSO’s contribution to the statewide “<a href="https://www.laphil.com/about/watch-and-listen/california-festival">California Festival: A Celebration of New Music</a>” which ran from November 3-19 and showcased some 150 performances of works written in the past five years. Maestro Preu acknowledged that to make a choice from the plethora available had been extremely challenging, but few surely would argue that his eventual selection was not inspired.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfC4rYr3xfxy91P8jDKluCbnb4z6MJt4RCEzr7buPKsUKdolPrKB2qpYxAX0HGW8Bto-t52xp1POqeCZ8WjJypHSgu8Klkit5jD3vj1-UJ8RpPdxTLmT3v1IGqg1_uO0o7Ar2o3R4tUlBspsVsw3of1gZXD6Y6JxFVwQFxfjFs35fT3-cy8989-KJpePw/s5464/North_Complex_smoke_in_San_Francisco_-_Financial_District.jpg" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3640" data-original-width="5464" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfC4rYr3xfxy91P8jDKluCbnb4z6MJt4RCEzr7buPKsUKdolPrKB2qpYxAX0HGW8Bto-t52xp1POqeCZ8WjJypHSgu8Klkit5jD3vj1-UJ8RpPdxTLmT3v1IGqg1_uO0o7Ar2o3R4tUlBspsVsw3of1gZXD6Y6JxFVwQFxfjFs35fT3-cy8989-KJpePw/s320/North_Complex_smoke_in_San_Francisco_-_Financial_District.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Wildfire smog engulfing San Francisco, 9 September, 2020.</td></tr></tbody></table>This was the <i>Hindustani Violin Concerto</i>, the fruit of a collaboration between the American/Indian composer <a href="https://www.reenaesmail.com/">Reena Esmail</a> (b. 1983) and the violinist <a href="https://kalaramnath.com/">Kala Ramnath</a>. Indeed, though the former is the work’s nominal author, it was Ms. Ramnath's shocked reaction to the red fog which blanketed San Francisco in September 2020—caused by catastrophic wildfires—that triggered the work.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">To try to express the climate disaster that this ominous pollution signaled, she selected from her wide knowledge of native Indian music <i>rāgas</i> to represent the five elements—space, air, fire, water, and earth—which she then provided to Ms. Esmail. Through Covid-necessitated long-range collaboration, the work evolved into a concerto whose five movements represent those elements in that logical sequence, with the Indian themes incorporated within Western harmonies and orchestration, and a coda where the soloist <i>sings</i> an ancient Indian text as a plea for the elemental disharmony of climate change to be corrected and healed.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">So, what of the work itself, and the performance? It’s perilous to make any kind of assessment of a new piece on the strength of one hearing, but as the <i>Hindustani Violin Concerto</i> progressed its virtues of concision and clarity of form, timbral inventiveness, and melodic immediacy became increasingly apparent through what seemed a confident and committed account by the LBSO—here, one guessed, was where a lot of the rehearsal time had gone.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZnK9Jau9soFTqe4pPyvzAyvVosEc47IoZtjq3TaZMxbzbr5sXn2qfUaoYL4YjhiEtoB9v9LoET0A_o-sauVi0vngTsZ02-suEfRtAm7OUgIRww_qHNUIH9bXGSBNg2h6R1Kga0cIvFr8yQSdmQ1-yD8vWMxR4_u7Bq-gP5jq5UZSTO7aBTuXRshtpstQ/s3500/095%20LBSO%20231118.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2333" data-original-width="3500" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZnK9Jau9soFTqe4pPyvzAyvVosEc47IoZtjq3TaZMxbzbr5sXn2qfUaoYL4YjhiEtoB9v9LoET0A_o-sauVi0vngTsZ02-suEfRtAm7OUgIRww_qHNUIH9bXGSBNg2h6R1Kga0cIvFr8yQSdmQ1-yD8vWMxR4_u7Bq-gP5jq5UZSTO7aBTuXRshtpstQ/w400-h266/095%20LBSO%20231118.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br />With Ms. Ramnath seated, as is the custom for Indian violinists due to the different playing requirements of their native music, her violin maintained an almost continual sliding microtonal “commentary” (usually in the instrument’s lower register) on the orchestra’s progress through the varied landscapes of the five movements, none of them longer than five minutes.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><i><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjaQLV-R1it-w6GgOgr86Y_LDrzoK17y4GJ6s8YTgMYl3ROAWL-1Fhr9Dzbm1s7mS0xDyqphPB8EIV0uU-PyWpZ2egswb8z0h1jOLk3tYT0eMgX6wUuzRjOfFH2CX4R4Ffh1b5iLBzuYaaMFpMw2xrrrghy0eGYtPrxH3At8eYo_wwV0G7uWOLeWmdLkYo/s969/Reena%20Esmail.png" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="969" data-original-width="648" height="247" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjaQLV-R1it-w6GgOgr86Y_LDrzoK17y4GJ6s8YTgMYl3ROAWL-1Fhr9Dzbm1s7mS0xDyqphPB8EIV0uU-PyWpZ2egswb8z0h1jOLk3tYT0eMgX6wUuzRjOfFH2CX4R4Ffh1b5iLBzuYaaMFpMw2xrrrghy0eGYtPrxH3At8eYo_wwV0G7uWOLeWmdLkYo/s320/Reena%20Esmail.png" width="165" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Reena Esmail.</td></tr></tbody></table>Space</i> (I) felt premonitory, largely static, its sound-world lit by flickering, oscillating percussion. <i style="text-align: left;">Air</i><span style="text-align: left;"> (II) was brighter in texture and more melodically plainspoken, while </span><i style="text-align: left;">Fire</i><span style="text-align: left;"> (III) flickered appropriately in a kind of </span><i style="text-align: left;">moto perpetuo</i><span style="text-align: left;">. </span><i style="text-align: left;">Water</i><span style="text-align: left;"> (IV) struck a more somber tone and in places grew vividly pictorial, with bold wide-open-spaces horn writing reminiscent of such works as Howard Hanson’s </span><i style="text-align: left;">Symphony No. 2 “Romantic.”</i></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">Bold brass chords heralded the brief <i>Earth</i> (V), which had a block-like, monumental quality more reminiscent of Alan Hovhaness. After a big orchestral climax, the movement devolved onto a deep chord in basses and bells, which led into the valedictory coda where Ms. Ramnath’s vocalizing left no doubt as to its haunting, lamenting message.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">Judging by the audience response, the <i>Hindustani Violin Concerto</i> clearly connects, but this listener was left wondering whether it carries the sheer heft or sense of <i>disjunction</i>—in the way it melds (or doesn't) two diametrically different musical traditions—to match its apocalyptic subject-matter. That the Terrace Theater acoustic succeeded in intermittently burying the solo line may have had something to do with it: let’s hope that the work's true measure emerges through many more performances and commercial recording.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgf-S_VdIQ5s0VtWTn0WC7YE7loXT4zjuYEU9s9gGyTWX07ndIH26BUnG84fZiHLAww9i_MNxEZJ6YcXkjNuky5_SNQPh9mhrSPf6-V4pb5j8LPxnpRPk2sfhLpvC0eiyVw5TFT6RtEToNbWo4VetDSeFThgQr6WZfPr95MgG1m_xOTDJH3gLQJStzAoH0/s1694/099%20LBSO%20231118.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1029" data-original-width="1694" height="243" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgf-S_VdIQ5s0VtWTn0WC7YE7loXT4zjuYEU9s9gGyTWX07ndIH26BUnG84fZiHLAww9i_MNxEZJ6YcXkjNuky5_SNQPh9mhrSPf6-V4pb5j8LPxnpRPk2sfhLpvC0eiyVw5TFT6RtEToNbWo4VetDSeFThgQr6WZfPr95MgG1m_xOTDJH3gLQJStzAoH0/w400-h243/099%20LBSO%20231118.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br />To follow Stravinsky’s neoclassical masterpiece and Esmail and Ramnath’s interweaving of Eastern and Western musical traditions, the second half opened with another conjunction of two more, and very different, idioms. It’s fair to say that the opera <i>Treemonisha</i> was the rock upon which the always precarious career of the Black composer and pianist Scott Joplin (1868-1917) foundered and sank.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFv1k_MHVfaxwXUuPosljh9KNiEz2yrTs22aC1YhWXTgr8RTw63Uz8bW88tLMRq-fXDikoOdzMH4N_yL5Gq_GjC4wHjRuXeaBmteDenjXW7LPDFg9jrjSqxxApYdfDVI-RFgfeTPtN67qMWs7leOeuWbVnnHcWzbfOWsiTS4tkqJzNfgZifkFgT5wbzaU/s2048/Joplin%20Michael%20Ochs%20Archive.jpeg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1627" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFv1k_MHVfaxwXUuPosljh9KNiEz2yrTs22aC1YhWXTgr8RTw63Uz8bW88tLMRq-fXDikoOdzMH4N_yL5Gq_GjC4wHjRuXeaBmteDenjXW7LPDFg9jrjSqxxApYdfDVI-RFgfeTPtN67qMWs7leOeuWbVnnHcWzbfOWsiTS4tkqJzNfgZifkFgT5wbzaU/w159-h200/Joplin%20Michael%20Ochs%20Archive.jpeg" width="159" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Scott Joplin.</td></tr></tbody></table>Celebrated as the “King of Ragtime” he, however, aspired to master the larger forms of Western music, and among other works wrote a symphony, a piano concerto, a ballet, and two operas.
The second of these was <i>Treemonisha</i>, completed by 1911. Joplin sank his money into publishing its vocal score, but was unable to mount a performance other than a single run-through with himself accompanying on the piano. After he died he was virtually forgotten, and in the 1960s all his extant manuscripts, including the full score of <i>Treemonisha</i>, were tragically destroyed—"collateral damage” arising from legal disputations over his estate.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYLa1ebhTp1ioB8rxvG6jadK3eomL_nr1kBnMx3LyE1t8oldhSa-ieQc7BTaxPSvEV6UVHNaQhjhCHJyfEHCJ4vOQvkSqkIzOBi4wPHzLqeuQFlYH4ayfVc2UIogQ6YWppROEMbGwP_sXC6YKSY9l35Ka1dzeH5VtzfVMBhKZedPo5cjeZXKXhF4jmdXg/s963/Treemonisha%20cover.png" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="963" data-original-width="722" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYLa1ebhTp1ioB8rxvG6jadK3eomL_nr1kBnMx3LyE1t8oldhSa-ieQc7BTaxPSvEV6UVHNaQhjhCHJyfEHCJ4vOQvkSqkIzOBi4wPHzLqeuQFlYH4ayfVc2UIogQ6YWppROEMbGwP_sXC6YKSY9l35Ka1dzeH5VtzfVMBhKZedPo5cjeZXKXhF4jmdXg/w150-h200/Treemonisha%20cover.png" width="150" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Cover of the 1911 vocal score.</td></tr></tbody></table>However, the inclusion of some of his published piano rags in the 1973 hit movie <i>The Sting</i> renewed interest in Scott Joplin’s music, and since then new orchestral scores of <i>Treemonisha</i> have been prepared and the opera staged and recorded. Adding to the exceptionally rich mixture of this concert, Eckart Preu programmed its overture to begin the second half.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">Within a few measures of the opening, its startling juxtaposition of cheery honky-tonk tunes and chromatic progressions worthy of Wagner was immediately apparent. The LBSO played it confidently but a little carefully—perhaps again the result of limited rehearsal time. Greater familiarity might have enabled more elasticity and swing, but even after later listening to several YouTube performances a sense of an awkward clash between rather than a fruitful juxtaposition of the idioms remains. Maybe you have to experience the whole opera live to really “get” it.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJnigyte9dlBA_XnKC1PNCbD5wJM5MQlSJYo_hKnopp7Hbh9WzPcFIlwKmaVl27g1lzPK4FU7noPGcgQUGkwG0oDpQAm0RiMKQxH_9IlfynLhgZHmOle5bPQenLNYtyNZb4CFQLQ_rxEXp9wxh9zDLejEn1agu-Atwh7b4QqpWhRWbfg6CSshDqqC8vYI/s870/Jerome_Robbins_1951.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="870" data-original-width="669" height="190" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJnigyte9dlBA_XnKC1PNCbD5wJM5MQlSJYo_hKnopp7Hbh9WzPcFIlwKmaVl27g1lzPK4FU7noPGcgQUGkwG0oDpQAm0RiMKQxH_9IlfynLhgZHmOle5bPQenLNYtyNZb4CFQLQ_rxEXp9wxh9zDLejEn1agu-Atwh7b4QqpWhRWbfg6CSshDqqC8vYI/w154-h200/Jerome_Robbins_1951.jpg" width="146" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Jerome Robbins.</td></tr></tbody></table><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVgjwDXX9UKnRjiGopWyUaD6-g94dCACfhBFgjGbUjZh4eBeLVfCnI-nuJDJMBZFj2tFREptzrjhiRewWuAm1pIZgjlG5fum9nWndMSui3yVBfUj0RdovMI3qDSOtQvFCzOry8sSQur6nLBDd8JXwwjhGcPywygbDlCnVnZ-aeH9J7JxpcphMYMfBd-pc/s584/Screenshot%202023-11-27%20at%201.48.17%E2%80%AFPM.png" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="584" data-original-width="455" height="190" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVgjwDXX9UKnRjiGopWyUaD6-g94dCACfhBFgjGbUjZh4eBeLVfCnI-nuJDJMBZFj2tFREptzrjhiRewWuAm1pIZgjlG5fum9nWndMSui3yVBfUj0RdovMI3qDSOtQvFCzOry8sSQur6nLBDd8JXwwjhGcPywygbDlCnVnZ-aeH9J7JxpcphMYMfBd-pc/w156-h200/Screenshot%202023-11-27%20at%201.48.17%E2%80%AFPM.png" width="148" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Leonard Bernstein in 1943.</td></tr></tbody></table>There was no difficulty in “getting” the final item. A full generation on from Stravinsky's neoclassicism firmly turning its back on the still recent horrors of World War 1, the ballet <i>Fancy Free</i> planted itself squarely within the USA’s involvement in World War 2. <i>Fancy Free</i> was the first of several collaborations between Leonard Bernstein as composer and the choreographer Jerome Robbins—both born in 1918 and thus only 24 when they got together—and following its hit premiere in 1944 at New York’s American Ballet Theatre, the careers of both were launched.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPaoxhV4qn7Vutcs3WvThW7FmvKcmhJSN7kFxrbeyeS4XEqY1Jh2EKcVFhMAFBy8BdM1TeMSrWu9WbroAT857brCg03rugNz8dHSNGOOeo-RKps6ZW6J6uIB7ukYkfdgwtxk4AdvekYf982AeeasScmloQSg-8b-9_m0TD4JkPe7YZntPvkP2PkkECwBw/s481/Fancy%20Free%20original.png" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="467" data-original-width="481" height="194" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPaoxhV4qn7Vutcs3WvThW7FmvKcmhJSN7kFxrbeyeS4XEqY1Jh2EKcVFhMAFBy8BdM1TeMSrWu9WbroAT857brCg03rugNz8dHSNGOOeo-RKps6ZW6J6uIB7ukYkfdgwtxk4AdvekYf982AeeasScmloQSg-8b-9_m0TD4JkPe7YZntPvkP2PkkECwBw/w200-h194/Fancy%20Free%20original.png" width="200" /></a></div>The special appeal of Long Beach's performance of <i>Fancy Free</i> was the recreation of Robbins’ original choreography (<i>right</i>) by Long Beach Ballet, but though this was danced with consummate grace and litheness, for me the real interest lay in what was happening behind the action. <i>Fancy Free</i> tends to be regarded as a stepping-stone to later, greater things from the Bernstein/Robbins collaboration, but the LBSO and Preu’s smokingly impactful performance simply hit the ball out of the park and into the forefront of one’s awareness of Leonard Bernstein’s achievement.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKB0wcJ3jczr3WTf0I-DJxYMjSZuw9P-ALF6p1YfATqtiMOKA8-B0Q6AmDuW7NFdaqsdoT4dh1p5eyxmxzLORsD9Fzr7zqaNzFJcvnTRyBt1KAcdii2xsITfU3G8W7CsSKi3ISlDI6QJrfhgxPZ6xE4MqP70P_Z-FdtLZqdJMb-w6-AgSsFPAPMwakqRE/s3500/120%20LBSO%20231118.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2333" data-original-width="3500" height="346" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKB0wcJ3jczr3WTf0I-DJxYMjSZuw9P-ALF6p1YfATqtiMOKA8-B0Q6AmDuW7NFdaqsdoT4dh1p5eyxmxzLORsD9Fzr7zqaNzFJcvnTRyBt1KAcdii2xsITfU3G8W7CsSKi3ISlDI6QJrfhgxPZ6xE4MqP70P_Z-FdtLZqdJMb-w6-AgSsFPAPMwakqRE/w640-h426/120%20LBSO%20231118.jpg" width="520" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Long Beach Ballet Artistic Director David Wilcox joins the stage in the (literal) walk-on part <br />of the bartender.</td></tr></tbody></table>For me no previous account has so well revealed, alongside all the score’s whiplash energy, driving rhythms, and earworm melodies, how much sheer <i>melancholy</i> it contains, and how vividly this adumbrates the scenario’s implicit pivot between transience and threat—three US sailors on 24-hour leave in wartime, defiantly alive and pleasure-seeking today, but tomorrow..?</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">One’s only regret at the end of this concert, so packed with interest and far-flung musical value, was that the sensationally fine performance of <i>Fancy Free</i> didn’t get quite the audience response that the orchestra and conductor deserved, due to the understandable focus of the applause on the six members of Long Beach Ballet. The orchestra pianist Alan Steinberger was just one among many who deserved a solo call-out, given how well his delivery of that manically energetic part drove the music onwards. </div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRtnY2xc8qo1buHBSgFfctUEpjIqz-BEJHMc6KtMV0HbyxqszwXPXp1rwGGxhbFo1GoN8toJLlIPM3OxgHqRp7_0ZXdFiBw6OD_0fnruwqhM2cXtkymy5Mw6AnoUvcXlFLAtXwp9n-m0PiQg0jMPirrYXJpd4WnpuI_oqkD3aUQkQMUqN90eLfoZXmbSo/s3177/163%20LBSO%20231118.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1394" data-original-width="3177" height="228" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRtnY2xc8qo1buHBSgFfctUEpjIqz-BEJHMc6KtMV0HbyxqszwXPXp1rwGGxhbFo1GoN8toJLlIPM3OxgHqRp7_0ZXdFiBw6OD_0fnruwqhM2cXtkymy5Mw6AnoUvcXlFLAtXwp9n-m0PiQg0jMPirrYXJpd4WnpuI_oqkD3aUQkQMUqN90eLfoZXmbSo/w640-h280/163%20LBSO%20231118.jpg" width="520" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />---ooo---</div><div><br /></div><div>Long Beach Symphony Orchestra, Terrace Theater, Beverly O'Neill Performing Arts Center, Long Beach, Saturday, November 18, 2023, 8 p.m. </div><div>Images: The performance: Caught in the Moment Photography; Stravinsky / San Francisco red fog / Jerome Robbins: Wikimedia Commons; Reena Esmail: composer website; Scott Joplin: Michael Ochs Archive; Treemonisha cover: Library of Congress; Leonard Bernstein: Carnegie Hall; Fancy Free original production: New York Public Library Digital Collections.</div><div><br /></div><div>I<i>f you found this review to be useful, interesting, or informative, please feel free to <b><a href="https://www.buymeacoffee.com/davidjbrown10">Buy Me A Coffee</a></b>! </i></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><br />David J Brownhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08224977724583670873noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9194809435670809838.post-43487030494438254892023-11-15T09:40:00.000-08:002023-11-16T19:29:54.954-08:00CPE Bach and Schumann in November’s Second Sunday<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBdEbgwJ7Q_H7X3kyaI-s57iR2bMcXRpeKNTBm7ksbDqzf0jO3X4EM0TfJEEOGOXhOUvzYoHyg7-Yt0k-cLUjL-iKxrtfhRxP-7gNp6Zk7Ee8ftEElvMWeYEG01tOuppHlL1KrBF3GW3q7S3963xS0MhWudHT-QvVy1I6uz9uj-Upd7CC59DgUI-lkDnc/s1681/Screenshot%202023-11-16%20at%202.25.18%E2%80%AFPM.png" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1080" data-original-width="1681" height="335" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBdEbgwJ7Q_H7X3kyaI-s57iR2bMcXRpeKNTBm7ksbDqzf0jO3X4EM0TfJEEOGOXhOUvzYoHyg7-Yt0k-cLUjL-iKxrtfhRxP-7gNp6Zk7Ee8ftEElvMWeYEG01tOuppHlL1KrBF3GW3q7S3963xS0MhWudHT-QvVy1I6uz9uj-Upd7CC59DgUI-lkDnc/w640-h412/Screenshot%202023-11-16%20at%202.25.18%E2%80%AFPM.png" width="520" /></a></div><br /><div><br /></div><div>REVIEW</div><div><br /></div><div>Einav Yarden, Second Sundays at Two, Rolling Hills United Methodist Church</div><div>DAVID J BROWN</div><div><br /></div><div><div style="text-align: justify;"><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjndo9uNovBA8Qowl86bokHZzvPN5XRvPVf0IivhvxtPYwWBfRX5W41g2xU0Ie3f1RPDWhps12h1xRp_4zduC9AdxkgyyW9B_2b9k5K5MzUTeme6oIi9ge1hPcRn5pqZ7yGQjiDWVA2YFY9D0HPV0qRmAO17PlT3_fORb23i5oSyKtgX19CtdpUtLeLaEs/s963/EinavYarden1-large.jpg" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="963" data-original-width="942" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjndo9uNovBA8Qowl86bokHZzvPN5XRvPVf0IivhvxtPYwWBfRX5W41g2xU0Ie3f1RPDWhps12h1xRp_4zduC9AdxkgyyW9B_2b9k5K5MzUTeme6oIi9ge1hPcRn5pqZ7yGQjiDWVA2YFY9D0HPV0qRmAO17PlT3_fORb23i5oSyKtgX19CtdpUtLeLaEs/w196-h200/EinavYarden1-large.jpg" width="196" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Einav Yarden.</td></tr></tbody></table>Carl Philipp Emanuel Bach’s <i>Rondo in C minor H. 283</i>—the fourth in his set of <i>Keyboard Sonatas, Free Fantasies, and Rondos Wq. 59</i>—seems to be a favored repertoire item for the Israel-born, Berlin-based pianist <a href="https://www.einavyarden.com/">Einav Yarden</a>. She included it in her previous <a href="http://www.palosverdes.com/ClassicalCrossroads/">Classical Crossroads</a> "Second Sundays at Two" recital (<a href="https://www.laopus.com/2022/03/bach-father-and-son-plus-late-brahms-at.html">reviewed here</a>), and again she chose it to open her contribution to this year’s series.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">I’ve no clear memory of that previous performance, but this time her account struck me as having a just about ideal balance between acknowledging the somberness implicit in the <i>Rondo</i>’s tonality but also fully expressing its whimsical rhythmic capriciousness. Also, Ms. Yarden’s keen observation of its many shifts in dynamic, both subtle and sudden, left little doubt that this late addition to C. P. E. Bach’s vast <i>oeuvre</i> (he was 71 when it was published in 1785) reflected the prevailing early Romantic <i>Sturm und Drang</i> artistic ethos. Perhaps someday she will let us hear other pieces from its parent set.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrhBjeKbFUqs04_ADOE7mo_b5YUZuFEJmxle0TNpfuT5JZmiEftS-dOkCtiiQsE6nUmKcmZGt1GFb5drCr6MiUL_VpJ8a33zlLHYEe-xfCQcIpa9ctlr3X15B1hTRbDv7Wt0p2Po13cFtu75GbmoO5YE3TCg8hIPqy92Av09BtQGHQgl5heWidnTTxfiA/s1177/cpe_bach_enl-9056f5d9b311491dfc0eb06a8c9a03dbc6b18177.jpg" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1177" data-original-width="948" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrhBjeKbFUqs04_ADOE7mo_b5YUZuFEJmxle0TNpfuT5JZmiEftS-dOkCtiiQsE6nUmKcmZGt1GFb5drCr6MiUL_VpJ8a33zlLHYEe-xfCQcIpa9ctlr3X15B1hTRbDv7Wt0p2Po13cFtu75GbmoO5YE3TCg8hIPqy92Av09BtQGHQgl5heWidnTTxfiA/w161-h200/cpe_bach_enl-9056f5d9b311491dfc0eb06a8c9a03dbc6b18177.jpg" width="161" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">C. P. E. Bach.</td></tr></tbody></table>She followed the <i>Rondo</i> with the <i>Arioso con 7 Variazioni in F major H. 54, Wq. 118 No. 4</i>—a leap back of several decades in C. P. E. Bach’s long career. As Ms. Yarden noted in brief remarks between the two items, in 1747 C. P. E. was already branching out in a markedly different musical direction from his illustrious father, Johann Sebastian—then still alive and composing—though this work is conventionally structured, with each variation in two halves respectively of 10 and eight measures, and both halves always repeated. Ms. Yarden subtly enhanced her performance with additional decorations and changes of dynamic, mostly softer, for the repeats.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihDxgUpEcjXSsxCxwptsbDLHIxUQXrbMGBesYABzqAVbsf93MDUE4Fzv5_wxs7RPkfFOiWzcd2iI1mZ95DBULPpjnwrhyb3bSM5b-xi1eJZEpj4ZY67lToOe2YeK9NHNqIB5nqso83eFi8QtfQtLx4R5dPHnPgXKeZd-vUDA-YhjcqbMWBgEyDiH-9yf8/s832/Clara%20Schumann%201832.png" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="832" data-original-width="533" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihDxgUpEcjXSsxCxwptsbDLHIxUQXrbMGBesYABzqAVbsf93MDUE4Fzv5_wxs7RPkfFOiWzcd2iI1mZ95DBULPpjnwrhyb3bSM5b-xi1eJZEpj4ZY67lToOe2YeK9NHNqIB5nqso83eFi8QtfQtLx4R5dPHnPgXKeZd-vUDA-YhjcqbMWBgEyDiH-9yf8/w128-h200/Clara%20Schumann%201832.png" width="128" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Clara Wieck (1832).</td></tr></tbody></table>In April 1838, two years before they were married, the 27-year-old Robert Schumann wrote to Clara Wieck, then 19: “<i>.... Oh! Clara, there is such music in me now, and such beautiful melodies always—Just think! since my last letter, I have finished another whole volume of new things. </i>Kreisleriana<i> I shall call it; you, and thought of you, play the chief part, and I will dedicate it to you—yes, to you and to no-one else—then you will smile so sweetly when you find yourself in it again.—</i>”</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">But… When Schumann published <i>Kreisleriana, Phantasien für Piano-Forte</i> later in 1838 as his <i>Op. 16</i>, the dedication went to “Seinen Freunde Herrn F Chopin” and into this already divided set of influences must be added the work’s title: the “Kreisler” in <i>Kreisleriana</i> was the eccentric fictional musician Johannes Kreisler featured in several books by the polymath writer / composer / artist / critic E. T. A. Hoffmann (1776-1822), a profound influence on early German Romanticism in general and Schumann in particular (who even contrived to die at exactly the same age, 46, as Hoffmann).</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjK1epfPpqg7hgsY6NLwOCjXbDEf1IJ9nxX6wMCt8Tfq-4fHAu0Jrh2bu2lbV6NDfx3QTUfFX1jMIiEFV8AbXcoOtBAFCXsrQKpFYmwWXM40V1yYh10FnsXN4mhgyF1cd4ubuz2cvmVNEYOLFoTV9AA8IqEo4LICTbJslKbhQofcglLqMEF_vZJv9_WcKo/s1493/E._T._A._Hoffmann_-_Kapellmeister_Kreisler.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1493" data-original-width="1216" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjK1epfPpqg7hgsY6NLwOCjXbDEf1IJ9nxX6wMCt8Tfq-4fHAu0Jrh2bu2lbV6NDfx3QTUfFX1jMIiEFV8AbXcoOtBAFCXsrQKpFYmwWXM40V1yYh10FnsXN4mhgyF1cd4ubuz2cvmVNEYOLFoTV9AA8IqEo4LICTbJslKbhQofcglLqMEF_vZJv9_WcKo/w163-h200/E._T._A._Hoffmann_-_Kapellmeister_Kreisler.jpg" width="163" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Kreisler: sketch by Hoffmann.</td></tr></tbody></table>Both the imaginary Kreisler and the real-life Robert Schumann were manic-depressives, the two sides of the latter’s nature being characterized by himself as “Florestan” (volatile and passionate) and “Eusebius” (dreamy and introspective). Though <i>Kreisleriana</i> doesn’t follow the earlier <i>Davidsbündlertänze</i> with individual numbers actually being signed “F” and “E”, its eight movements are highly contrasted, with <i>Sehr</i> (very) before the initial marking in almost every case for additional emphasis.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><i>Kreisleriana</i> begins very much <i>in media res</i>, as if a door had been opened suddenly to reveal a whirlwind of activity already under way. Ms. Yarden captured this first movement’s <i>Äusserst bewegt</i> (extremely agitated) nature perfectly, her right hand flying through the teeming motion while her left articulated clearly the underlying harmonic progression in octaves, chords, and hairpin-emphasized single notes.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1WLA915v8F3qbEfhxPBfy85hYCK-_OX8eVYRSQ7lhCYuLSBPTndNCgBGunEO-MZdp24EtdyJFQX_P6VXgdzu3vteVAkyUjfX-yckryjWz1kzdELcsaZcISR7DnNdUwXrXbI7ZToVMF9aWdwFqtuP0Fg4fAPoJVxAdH_KgPx-BPyQuiaqqfDT_Zz8ZVnE/s1200/Schumann%201839.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1200" height="230" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1WLA915v8F3qbEfhxPBfy85hYCK-_OX8eVYRSQ7lhCYuLSBPTndNCgBGunEO-MZdp24EtdyJFQX_P6VXgdzu3vteVAkyUjfX-yckryjWz1kzdELcsaZcISR7DnNdUwXrXbI7ZToVMF9aWdwFqtuP0Fg4fAPoJVxAdH_KgPx-BPyQuiaqqfDT_Zz8ZVnE/w200-h200/Schumann%201839.jpg" width="230" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Robert Schumann in 1839.</td></tr></tbody></table>Already, however, Schumann hints at an inner dualism within the individual movements, with a <i>pp</i> central section before the whirlwind returns, and this dualism emerges fully in the extensive second movement, marked <i>Sehr innig und nicht zu rasch</i> (very heartfelt and not too fast). The long opening melody builds up from an immediately memorable arching opening phrase, and Ms. Yarden gave a limpid beauty to its several repetitions as a kind of varying <i>ritornello</i>. But two <i>Intermezzi—Sehr lebhaft</i> (very lively), and <i>Etwas bewegter</i> (a little more motion)—forcefully interrupt until the melody re-emerges as a kind of homecoming.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">This is short-lived, however, as the third movement, <i>Sehr aufgeregt</i> (very excitedly) surges into earshot, at a compressed <i>piano</i> dynamic this time, with Ms. Yarden inserting barely a pause between it and its predecessor to thus underline the whole work’s essential unity. Again that inner dualism asserts itself with a central <i>Etwas langsamer</i> (somewhat slower) section before the return, and a <i>fortissimo Noch schneller</i> (even faster) coda that was truly torrential in Ms. Yarden’s hands.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbDv6QbQTK7jzMU7CL91-2zX3kwIgbj-Cl6qFGawUjEXBAmQTtevfX97p1WVtxHufHdZH4NyiPe7_lkYhkpKRS8oVgQ5wpJxBe3158xlPzlxt8OdcyCpc1IibHoYoWJn2f6uV0JpyGkoYureJ0zD9thUT0EKwnhAYhffzGwCFlabI7o_eC_prgrJqbLY0/s2544/E._T._A._Hoffmann,_autorretrato.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2544" data-original-width="2188" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbDv6QbQTK7jzMU7CL91-2zX3kwIgbj-Cl6qFGawUjEXBAmQTtevfX97p1WVtxHufHdZH4NyiPe7_lkYhkpKRS8oVgQ5wpJxBe3158xlPzlxt8OdcyCpc1IibHoYoWJn2f6uV0JpyGkoYureJ0zD9thUT0EKwnhAYhffzGwCFlabI7o_eC_prgrJqbLY0/w172-h200/E._T._A._Hoffmann,_autorretrato.jpg" width="172" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">E. T. A. Hoffmann: self-portrait.</td></tr></tbody></table>The next four movements maintain the (very) slow/fast/slow/fast pattern of overall contrast, with Schumann’s fertility of melodic invention never failing him. But his quicksilver mood shifts expressed through constant rhythmic, dynamic, and tempo flexibility create a pervasive sense of unease that Ms. Yarden expertly articulated throughout. And, as with the C. P. E. Bach <i>Arioso,</i> she subtly modified dynamics in some of <i>Kreisleriana</i>’s many marked repeats so as to impart a sense of constant onward progress to the music rather than any taking of literal steps back.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">Though the final movement is marked <i>Schnell und spielend</i> (fast and playfully), it maintains the work’s overall minor key tonality, and in Ms. Yarden’s performance the implicit darkness was emphasized by her relatively measured tempo and implacably crisp articulation of its tripping, dotted motion. The central section, far from forming a lighter contrast, is <i>Mit aller kraft</i> (with all power), hammering out the rhythm like a nightmarish keyboard echo of the scherzo of Beethoven’s <i>Seventh Symphony</i>. The opening returns, but as it wound down to its exhausted <i>ppp </i>end, Ms. Yarden gave it a hollow, haunted quality that reminded one of nothing so much as the Dance of Death at the end of Bergman’s <i>The Seventh Seal</i>.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">After this fine performance of one of Schumann’s greatest piano masterpieces, as skillful in execution as it was responsive to the music’s many-sided content, an encore felt superfluous, but nonetheless Ms. Yarden gave us one, the <i>Sarabande</i> fourth movement of J. S. Bach’s <i>English Suite No. 2 in A minor, BWV 807</i>. The whole recital can be enjoyed for the next month on <a href="https://vimeo.com/showcase/classicalcrossroads">Vimeo</a>.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqGU8kOqTKGaT4tLqN74OOW7OGWmZOZwa1FCJ5mMsRNbRX8X9A5t_09rtNZ_wuGv44GyP8Vz5oiH1bpMOg-1EiZyKa94pOl8SxUNwInBUUidOpKJKJ1svaRgzQX8kEJOYd9R9LNDYEEDcqG7fls0xckSKK3V5eXqbQ5JeQ2co1fN335z1cEHqhnA1SaPc/s1920/Screenshot%202023-11-16%20at%202.18.56%E2%80%AFPM.png" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1080" data-original-width="1920" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqGU8kOqTKGaT4tLqN74OOW7OGWmZOZwa1FCJ5mMsRNbRX8X9A5t_09rtNZ_wuGv44GyP8Vz5oiH1bpMOg-1EiZyKa94pOl8SxUNwInBUUidOpKJKJ1svaRgzQX8kEJOYd9R9LNDYEEDcqG7fls0xckSKK3V5eXqbQ5JeQ2co1fN335z1cEHqhnA1SaPc/w400-h225/Screenshot%202023-11-16%20at%202.18.56%E2%80%AFPM.png" width="400" /></a></div><br /><div style="text-align: center;">---ooo---</div><div><br /></div><div>Rolling Hills United Methodist Church, Torrance, Sunday, November 12, 2023, 2.00 p.m.</div><div>Images: The performance: Classical Crossroads; Einav Yarden: Artist website; Clara Wieck, Robert Schumann, C. P. E. Bach, Hoffmann, Kreisler: Wikimedia Commons.</div><div><br /></div><div><i>If you found this review to be useful, interesting, or informative, please feel free to <a href="https://www.buymeacoffee.com/davidjbrown10"><b>Buy Me A Coffee</b></a>!
</i></div></div>David J Brownhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08224977724583670873noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9194809435670809838.post-36260617593637330262023-10-26T15:43:00.176-07:002023-11-09T12:18:41.203-08:00Bohemian Dances and Drama Open Long Beach Season<br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhad6-0JZcBcqz3Bg0eh1RNTVCOyUcSw7GsHsOZBTpVL4DUQL4WYrXl_vr1dTaT4Y758UTQE1J9wBr4LOd0qKLHAOWSXkLd0TUWDlUSz4ALV4Ia_YKGHxKqMTYxwx9D1k7qstncPuFWVpVwqOv8ZDVI2BJjV7VzU9Rfwq1EWMDtxwbRFEoWT9C1WgW5big/s3200/003%20RUSH%20LBSO%20Opening%20Night%202023.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2134" data-original-width="3200" height="346" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhad6-0JZcBcqz3Bg0eh1RNTVCOyUcSw7GsHsOZBTpVL4DUQL4WYrXl_vr1dTaT4Y758UTQE1J9wBr4LOd0qKLHAOWSXkLd0TUWDlUSz4ALV4Ia_YKGHxKqMTYxwx9D1k7qstncPuFWVpVwqOv8ZDVI2BJjV7VzU9Rfwq1EWMDtxwbRFEoWT9C1WgW5big/w640-h426/003%20RUSH%20LBSO%20Opening%20Night%202023.jpg" width="520" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Soloist Andreas Boyde performing Dvořák’s <i>Piano Concerto in G minor</i> with Eckart Preu and the <br />Long Beach Symphony Orchestra.</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><div>REVIEW</div><div><br /></div><div>Long Beach Symphony, Terrace Theater, Beverly O'Neill Performing Arts Center, Long Beach</div><div>DAVID J BROWN</div><div><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">A couple of short orchestral dances, followed by a big and unfamiliar concerto, and then three symphonic poems one after the other to wrap up the evening? Such a program might at first glance seem heterogeneous, even a bit incoherent, but as assembled by Long Beach Symphony Music Director Eckart Preu, the roster for the opening concert in the orchestra’s 2023-2024 Classical Season proved to be as engaging, insightfully constructed, and thrilling in execution as any patron could wish for.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">The evening’s central European folk/ethnic credentials were established right from the start with two of Brahms’ <i>Hungarian Dances</i>. His fascination with Magyar gypsy-style music stemmed from being recital accompanist to the itinerant Hungarian violinist Ede Reményi (1828-1898) when Brahms was still in his teens (an artistic partnership—otherwise harmonious until they parted ways in 1853—marred by a vehement falling-out over interpretative details of that “gypsy music,” as Maestro Preu noted in his introductory remarks).</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJV1sB_zdBxZav4NeYR6_RRzbaaSrZ_kzHwwIEELAL4UNzRlcp-hOzOGFzphcgsUos3apOJUvYsmeqzc3yp6rzEZGzex4Kh0O23NA-yKWyKeqIE5VfGX-cshFlI0qYkm7ove9E5u3qo4Qv1yWtuVRAWwo0-Kn58nQF77Fnw7qg9Em_Jtbi6u6yX7uHJgg/s923/Brahms%20and%20Re%CC%81menyi,%20c%201852.png" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="923" data-original-width="724" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJV1sB_zdBxZav4NeYR6_RRzbaaSrZ_kzHwwIEELAL4UNzRlcp-hOzOGFzphcgsUos3apOJUvYsmeqzc3yp6rzEZGzex4Kh0O23NA-yKWyKeqIE5VfGX-cshFlI0qYkm7ove9E5u3qo4Qv1yWtuVRAWwo0-Kn58nQF77Fnw7qg9Em_Jtbi6u6yX7uHJgg/s320/Brahms%20and%20Re%CC%81menyi,%20c%201852.png" width="251" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Brahms and Reményi (left).</td></tr></tbody></table>In the years that followed, Brahms’ continuing interest in the idiom led him to variously collect/rework/ compose many “Hungarian” melodies, until in 1869 the first set of <i>Ungarische Tänze, WoO1</i> appeared in print, in two “books” of five dances each.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">Originally published as piano duets, the <i>Hungarian Dances</i> reappeared over the years in many arrangements from solo piano to full orchestra. Brahms himself orchestrated the first, third, and 10th of them, and it was with <i>No. 1 in G minor </i>that the concert began.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">Preu and the orchestra immediately demonstrated complete rapport with the idiom, their no-holds-barred <i>Allegro molto</i> urgently driving the smoothly urbane contours of the opening melody, and then generous <i>ritardandi</i> in the central section giving the LBSO flutes plenty of space for their trilling bird-calls.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">This was followed, not by either of the others Brahms orchestrated himself, but by <i>No. 4 in F minor</i>, in the 1933 orchestration by Paul Juon (himself a composer worth bending an ear to). This choice was clearly for maximum contrast, with its <i>Poco sostenuto</i> opening hugely soulful and expansive, and then a whirlwind swirl for the central <i>Vivace</i>.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMnwENMik7IIysu65-zJZA1LuG1itEjXCV2CgMqXlZa9nf6QnatMkEEzGEanuWB9X7aeWf6NiFGChJHiEydITe8W9f2RHdLUvlet8XcER6_juZa6CX2u7QFk0rbn9y9UsQPPrD7hAEQioKJOH4iFpRCuScM19gVR0yCqC-e3HSh4OsBY-2soTZ7QyS3Zw/s4123/Smetana%201876.jpeg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4123" data-original-width="3173" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMnwENMik7IIysu65-zJZA1LuG1itEjXCV2CgMqXlZa9nf6QnatMkEEzGEanuWB9X7aeWf6NiFGChJHiEydITe8W9f2RHdLUvlet8XcER6_juZa6CX2u7QFk0rbn9y9UsQPPrD7hAEQioKJOH4iFpRCuScM19gVR0yCqC-e3HSh4OsBY-2soTZ7QyS3Zw/s320/Smetana%201876.jpeg" width="246" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="text-align: justify;">Bedřich Smetana, c.1878.</span></td></tr></tbody></table>In Bedřich Smetana’s Czech homeland, complete stand-alone concerts of his symphonic cycle <i>Má vlast, JB. 1/112</i> (My Fatherland) continue to be relatively frequent. Elsewhere such performances are quite rare, and in my admittedly limited experience, hearing all six symphonic poems consecutively live has not added up to a whole greater than the sum of its parts—though the reiteration of the four-note motif representing the castle in the first of them (<i>Vyšehrad) </i>and then in the second (<i>Vltava</i>) and sixth (<i>Blaník</i>) adds a certain unifying factor.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">To fill the second half of the concert, Maestro Preu made his own selection of three of the <i>Má vlast</i> symphonic poems. Though in some doubt initially as to the order in which to play them, his final chosen sequence of <i>No. 2, Vltava</i> (The Moldau) written in 1874, <i>No. 3, Šárka</i>, and<i> No. 4,</i> <i>Z českých luhů a hájů</i> (From Bohemia’s Woods and Fields)—both completed in 1875—could not have been improved upon.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">“The Moldau” is by far the most familiar, due to the memorable and heart-lifting tune with which Smetana characterizes the river of the title. The LBSO players caught perfectly this vivid aural picture, from the 16th-note sextuplets on a single flute over violin and harp <i>pizzicati</i> that mark its source, through some 40 measures of those undulations gradually spreading through the orchestra, until the 1st violins sang out the melody.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">Smetana himself described the Vltava’s course “<i>through woods and meadows, through landscapes where a farmer's wedding is celebrated, the round dance of the mermaids in the night's moonshine: on the nearby rocks loom proud castles, palaces and ruins aloft. [It] swirls into the St John's Rapids; then it widens and flows toward Prague, past the Vyšehrad, and then majestically vanishes into the distance, ending at the Elbe</i>”—and all were vividly characterized by the LBSO under Maestro Preu.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="font-style: italic; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjsrZmGyXPKI6-7AFuLkk-SuUN9eByYR69K8eIUhYZQdfZjtnEKVKDz4vjnKBfUg6j8vII8YfVkkR0y5n7OWxnny-c1T60AV1XnpEseqzG3nasfq32GFEz8TRH3CveKhTZEQ5au0CDfn-3aP2tpZoEEBsYoRD8rhI59X4bz_1ncuyscquUkiTgIQthdBt0/s3512/Vistas_de_Praga_(cropped).jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1897" data-original-width="3512" height="216" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjsrZmGyXPKI6-7AFuLkk-SuUN9eByYR69K8eIUhYZQdfZjtnEKVKDz4vjnKBfUg6j8vII8YfVkkR0y5n7OWxnny-c1T60AV1XnpEseqzG3nasfq32GFEz8TRH3CveKhTZEQ5au0CDfn-3aP2tpZoEEBsYoRD8rhI59X4bz_1ncuyscquUkiTgIQthdBt0/w400-h216/Vistas_de_Praga_(cropped).jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-style: normal;">The Moldau flowing through Prague.</span></td></tr></tbody></table>As succinct as <i>Vltava</i> is discursive, <i>Šárka </i>tells how the female warrior of the title springs a deadly trap on some male counterparts. The performance gave this all the stormy eloquence required, with a particularly baleful bassoon solo triggering the final slaughter. Only (for me) did a sense of diminishing returns begin to set in at <i>From Bohemia’s Woods and Fields</i>, with its many pages of celebratory fanfaring and cymbal-crashing—though here executed with such panache and enthusiasm that the final climax elicited a comparably loud outburst of cheers and applause from the LBSO patrons.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVBaOH3Ln4Bq7j4uW_xKMDWP_QfDBlTlys4TGrQ_XCQ59THSsVDbPz5TWrfqvGZBU5ioGoD18dEqg5OUzJFX2VdTiUoOXpaC9CPRgyouEvJKl5GMh9gG4ipczI7Pvy2qo4FNTDg4Dpsd4m0PzXNlHe82sR0J0QAsJuVLuWS-1sCu6ATWN26EKTYpJ6Kjs/s2600/Dvorak%201882%20Wikimedia.jpeg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2600" data-original-width="2100" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVBaOH3Ln4Bq7j4uW_xKMDWP_QfDBlTlys4TGrQ_XCQ59THSsVDbPz5TWrfqvGZBU5ioGoD18dEqg5OUzJFX2VdTiUoOXpaC9CPRgyouEvJKl5GMh9gG4ipczI7Pvy2qo4FNTDg4Dpsd4m0PzXNlHe82sR0J0QAsJuVLuWS-1sCu6ATWN26EKTYpJ6Kjs/s320/Dvorak%201882%20Wikimedia.jpeg" width="258" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Antonin Dvořák.</td></tr></tbody></table>But the jewel at the heart of this immensely enjoyable and exuberant concert was the concerto. If ever there were a Society for the Restitution of Dvořák’s Piano Concerto, then undoubtedly its President and CEO would be Eckart Preu and the German pianist Andreas Boyde, whose pre-concert conversation about the work was particularly illuminating.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">Look anywhere in commentaries about the <i>Piano Concerto in G minor, Op. 33, B. 63</i> and the best you’ll likely find is damning with faint praise for this Cinderella work in Dvořák’s ouput, with particular obloquy for the piano writing. While Boyde acknowledged that the concerto is extremely difficult to play, his growing enthusiasm for its unique value and qualities that he had come to feel through performing it a number of times over the years was manifest in every moment of this account.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">That he had worthy collaborators in Preu and the orchestra was demonstrated from the outset. The first statement of the main theme is confined to winds and lower strings, <i>mezzo piano</i>, but it is still marked <i>Allegro agitato</i>, and keen observation of passing accents ensured that all the drama inherent in the music was expressed to the full.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2xLzW2bS0snoH-eVqYz-h59RIgV7PrbZw97Rxisr-eKk9R_imdiZttia8Ai0RbXgkMy1U9S6atBT0Ax7rWssaRD7EocFy7rO85Gg6bHbYuDHHxU4Ieitvca-oItDWdejFoGhKKO-YTneqLMfkO-cGCxRH61YWh5tshMAOIe5YFKnNqdF4aEJxco8EbUk/s3200/002%20RUSH%20LBSO%20C1%20Opening%20Night%202023.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3200" data-original-width="2199" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2xLzW2bS0snoH-eVqYz-h59RIgV7PrbZw97Rxisr-eKk9R_imdiZttia8Ai0RbXgkMy1U9S6atBT0Ax7rWssaRD7EocFy7rO85Gg6bHbYuDHHxU4Ieitvca-oItDWdejFoGhKKO-YTneqLMfkO-cGCxRH61YWh5tshMAOIe5YFKnNqdF4aEJxco8EbUk/s320/002%20RUSH%20LBSO%20C1%20Opening%20Night%202023.jpg" width="220" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Andreas Boyde.</td></tr></tbody></table>After 65 measures the piano’s initial entry is unobtrusive, and as the long first movement progressed the much-criticized character of the piece—as a concerto in which the piano part is essentially a hugely elaborate contributor to the overall orchestral texture rather than a virtuosic contrast with it—rapidly became apparent.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">But in the face of this performance any such observation became an “<i>any fool can see that</i>” irrelevancy. Nowhere throughout the 20+ minutes of the first movement was the attention tempted to wonder, so integrated and eloquent was its unfolding, with orchestral writing revealed as expressive and characterful as anything in the five symphonies Dvořák had written up to that point in his career (but using forces <i>smaller</i> than any of them), and constantly elaborated, illuminated, and underpinned by the work of Boyde’s ultra-busy fingers.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJWiCS2j29jida_14nJapzrz9TOw-NstxxNw-vLri4maJXxW0YoEX8jLtkXehMbgeeQJ7XACniCEz4kfpVqSaxTCNQMNWUcWWheNKTcr678pSSFstRVkoXJXFFOa1EAZH-XgjjZ0wv7B_VZoTfi9V9bru0m8Bw_I3AVoxpqn20VFAAOtIUndgUiSuWGko/s2905/057%20LBSO%20190928.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2905" data-original-width="2019" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJWiCS2j29jida_14nJapzrz9TOw-NstxxNw-vLri4maJXxW0YoEX8jLtkXehMbgeeQJ7XACniCEz4kfpVqSaxTCNQMNWUcWWheNKTcr678pSSFstRVkoXJXFFOa1EAZH-XgjjZ0wv7B_VZoTfi9V9bru0m8Bw_I3AVoxpqn20VFAAOtIUndgUiSuWGko/w222-h320/057%20LBSO%20190928.jpg" width="222" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Eckart Preu.</td></tr></tbody></table>The <i>Andante sostenuto</i> opens with a horn solo that sounds as if it’s going to turn into the “Going Home” theme from the “New World” Symphony—but it doesn't, and played here with great sensitivity and attention to nuance above fabulously soft strings, the effect was balm-like after the lengthy and strenuous elaborations of the first movement.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">The <i>Allegro con fuoco</i> finale is almost as long and elaborate, with pitiless demands on the soloist, but more than ever Boyde seemed to relish and revel in every challenge, maintaining momentum and crispness of attack, with the skipping main theme given an impish insouciance every time it came around.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">If ever a neglected work deserved, and received, the best possible advocacy, this was it. Never boring for a moment throughout the 44 minutes of this performance, Dvořák’s Piano Concerto got as big an ovation as if it had been Tchaikovsky's First (<a href="https://longbeachsymphony.org/classical-2024/">see the final concert in this series next June...</a>)</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgsKM3h4KXj2StLK8GC_CudX-pBh2pkFUQijKK0CxUXdpI8oXN3BXQhjUgiX9zW_RHzm-shAoXsw6CFAzwCinbv8s31tT7FPb089ElvuBndeTgpbEGx_Fe6ANZ1g5hBnZXXTstfMf88Ne9VbjeZ-O8Cvm-Pllf4KTdLDITstdO_ZNMITLRfMkgWzUo4kbI/s3200/004%20RUSH%20LBSO%20Opening%20Night%202023.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2134" data-original-width="3200" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgsKM3h4KXj2StLK8GC_CudX-pBh2pkFUQijKK0CxUXdpI8oXN3BXQhjUgiX9zW_RHzm-shAoXsw6CFAzwCinbv8s31tT7FPb089ElvuBndeTgpbEGx_Fe6ANZ1g5hBnZXXTstfMf88Ne9VbjeZ-O8Cvm-Pllf4KTdLDITstdO_ZNMITLRfMkgWzUo4kbI/w400-h266/004%20RUSH%20LBSO%20Opening%20Night%202023.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br /><div style="text-align: center;">---ooo---</div><div><br /></div><div>Long Beach Symphony Orchestra, Terrace Theater, Beverly O'Neill Performing Arts Center, Long Beach, Saturday, October 21, 2023, 8 p.m.</div><div>Images: The performance: Caught in the Moment Photography; Brahms and Rémenyi: Brahms-Institut an der Musikhochschule Lübeck; Smetana, The Moldau, Dvořák: Wikimedia Commons.</div><div><br /></div><i>If you found this review to be useful, interesting, or informative, please feel free to <b><a href="https://www.buymeacoffee.com/davidjbrown10">Buy Me A Coffee</a></b>!</i>David J Brownhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08224977724583670873noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9194809435670809838.post-47102468804583136642023-10-23T19:59:00.122-07:002023-10-26T22:55:01.236-07:00Boulanger, Sibelius, Prokofiev at Segerstrom Concert Hall<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEioKaLrM59ZJKVi2Gd_LP8un9A3GdzmdCQMGnLQvHOMUSCEbnaVppdJzsxHrG2pOqQX5ZIx_bGTC-jjypaH34NfVdR7BcnDeSpjnb0l8uedi8epUc5NsTranMrY0NXcMXslJbuxS-stx8DY-cfommIG7wIPOZM_KQMqURiTPQirghKttwQmmrwXNsxExjw/s5000/2023-10-19_PacSymp_DG-8965.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3285" data-original-width="5000" height="341" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEioKaLrM59ZJKVi2Gd_LP8un9A3GdzmdCQMGnLQvHOMUSCEbnaVppdJzsxHrG2pOqQX5ZIx_bGTC-jjypaH34NfVdR7BcnDeSpjnb0l8uedi8epUc5NsTranMrY0NXcMXslJbuxS-stx8DY-cfommIG7wIPOZM_KQMqURiTPQirghKttwQmmrwXNsxExjw/w640-h420/2023-10-19_PacSymp_DG-8965.jpg" width="520" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Violinist Esther Yoo, visiting guest conductor Christian Kluxen, and the Pacific Symphony Orchestra performing Sibelius’s <i>Violin Concerto</i>.</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><div>REVIEW</div><div><br /></div><div>Pacific Symphony Orchestra, Segerstrom Center for the Arts, Costa Mesa</div><div>DAVID J BROWN</div><div><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">The October concert in the Pacific Symphony’s 2023-2024 season at the Renée and Henry Segerstrom Concert Hall presented what was by any reckoning a deeply serious and often thrilling program, hewing closely to the time-honored overture/concerto/symphony model but departing from it decisively in its opening item. Indeed Lili Boulanger’s tone-poem <i>D’un soir triste</i> (literally “of a sad evening”) was the very opposite of anything preludial in her output, being her final completed work before her tragically early death aged only 24, in March 1918 from Crohn’s Disease or intestinal tuberculosis (there seems to be no consensus which).</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhR84SsJhgPZLNfQ-VVzeceAUmfAMAGCTjXxEfD-kMCe4amb4LQu65r2Nh0ZpQU2spMBT749N8g5PdVtxiqYO8vofQUBPTrm1tCXp336iLq53mS8n18ZPDZw3gfdIiEzeW-EpP_kP5VAZN7fGeDS9X0Exn3pyavxuOs-mEuBGUYgJEhm_BRzWBC3SMWzG4/s5000/2023-10-19_PacSymp_DG-8480.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="5000" data-original-width="4000" height="263" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhR84SsJhgPZLNfQ-VVzeceAUmfAMAGCTjXxEfD-kMCe4amb4LQu65r2Nh0ZpQU2spMBT749N8g5PdVtxiqYO8vofQUBPTrm1tCXp336iLq53mS8n18ZPDZw3gfdIiEzeW-EpP_kP5VAZN7fGeDS9X0Exn3pyavxuOs-mEuBGUYgJEhm_BRzWBC3SMWzG4/s320/2023-10-19_PacSymp_DG-8480.jpg" width="210" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Christian Kluxen.</td></tr></tbody></table>In an informal and engagingly discursive chat to the audience following an account of the work that gave full measure to its implacable darkness and drama, the Danish visiting guest conductor <a href="https://www.pacificsymphony.org/artist-detail/693/christian-kluxen">Christian Kluxen</a> opined that <i>D’un soir triste</i> enshrined Boulanger’s response to World War I, much of whose cumulative horror had been ground out in the mud-churned land of her native France.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">This may well have been true, given that from 1915 she had been devoted to wartime charity work as fully as her fragile health allowed, but for this listener at least the piece—her largest purely orchestral composition even at just 12 minutes’ duration—carries an additional charge of personal anguish and defiance. While the inexorable cortège-like onward movement she establishes from the outset with the marking <i>Lent (♩ = 58)</i> could well embody public mourning, the ensuing long viola solo, seized upon here with devoted commitment by section Principal Meredith Crawford, introduces a telling personal element.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGQ2ba4vLnc2of_mSbOV0uhL2AGeCqlPbCTVfMrHGQGzLBw98YnoeAZDKopOA2yhj7t8-xB21ESl45yiXVD0GsUSMdqUwGV1l8oIh5FmxgZzBqGawzOY4hGcouecKumKwwF3Ss_Mi-qEcxFABjpj92ubRPr2gdBByKzue6yydICeIhsoGeeHvXmJXrZ_A/s1657/image%20(2).jpeg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1657" data-original-width="1617" height="308" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGQ2ba4vLnc2of_mSbOV0uhL2AGeCqlPbCTVfMrHGQGzLBw98YnoeAZDKopOA2yhj7t8-xB21ESl45yiXVD0GsUSMdqUwGV1l8oIh5FmxgZzBqGawzOY4hGcouecKumKwwF3Ss_Mi-qEcxFABjpj92ubRPr2gdBByKzue6yydICeIhsoGeeHvXmJXrZ_A/s320/image%20(2).jpeg" width="300" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The last extant photograph of Lili Boulanger, 1917.</td></tr></tbody></table>Throughout the first half of the work, the way in which Boulanger sets slowly climbing melodic lines against close-packed dissonant harmonies that persistently pull down into the orchestra’s lower depths felt, in this masterfully paced and skillfully controlled performance, like a depth-charge of suppressed anger. </div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">This eventually exploded with audience-galvanizing force in a mighty tam-tam smash (the instrument placed exact center at the back of the platform) that sliced off the orchestra’s progress to that point, followed by measured f<i>ortissimo</i> bass drum and timpani beats as portentous as those that open the finale of Mahler’s <i>Tenth Symphony</i>.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">From this central catastrophe <i>D’un soir triste</i> slowly rebuilds itself, at first with seeming calm, colored by long and eloquent violin and cello solos played with equal fervor respectively by Concertmaster Dennis Kim and section Principal Warren Hagerty. But the grinding weight and anger reassert themselves: after a wave of pulverizing <i>fff</i> climaxes, the final masterpiece of this, surely, great composer fades to its conclusion, <i>expressif resigné</i>, with a final <i>ppp</i> tam-tam stroke dissolving into silence.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzqGgUYP-Zuhb8P28QMMJ_-NZvHhVD_a0qal9R4f3C_IpRZBDPuhesQOo3DnOI7l09-JYyXEevEjGojghV_Ahy6qKWx4mGtKxLuRX27GACXaeQfcBtJv9Mz84mmoIj7IB8HCvBFFWzkNVgz6SeP1J6QJ9DULN-ntPOU9LEdmU-S-bt17pSa8F6wuDmRIA/s1429/Prokofiev%201944%20colored.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1429" data-original-width="926" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzqGgUYP-Zuhb8P28QMMJ_-NZvHhVD_a0qal9R4f3C_IpRZBDPuhesQOo3DnOI7l09-JYyXEevEjGojghV_Ahy6qKWx4mGtKxLuRX27GACXaeQfcBtJv9Mz84mmoIj7IB8HCvBFFWzkNVgz6SeP1J6QJ9DULN-ntPOU9LEdmU-S-bt17pSa8F6wuDmRIA/s320/Prokofiev%201944%20colored.jpg" width="207" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Prokofiev at his dacha in 1944.</td></tr></tbody></table>As well as the comments already noted above, Christian Kluxen also linked the theme of reaction to wartime with the one work in the program’s second half, Prokofiev’s <i>Symphony No. 5 in B-flat major, Op. 100</i>. This was written, so the composer averred in interviews, in just one month in summer 1944, followed by a further month taken up by its orchestration.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">As with Dmitri Shostakovich, it is impossible now to definitively disentangle Prokofiev’s actual views about his work from what he felt he was expected by Soviet bureaucracy to say. But, given that his country was grappling with a life-or-death struggle just as engulfing as that during which Lili Boulanger spent her last years, there’s no real reason to suspect any ironic subtext to his statement that “<i>in the Fifth Symphony I wanted to praise the free and happy man, his strength, his generosity and the purity of his soul. I cannot say I chose this theme; it was born in me and had to express itself. It is a symphony about the human spirit.</i>”</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">Apart from the perennially popular <i>“Classical” Symphony No. 1</i>, the <i>Fifth</i> has certainly been Prokofiev’s most frequently performed symphony, though its presence in concert halls seems to have diminished a little in recent years. It is also the most outward-facing and audience-friendly of his large-scale orchestral works, leading off with an indelibly memorable and aspiring theme on the potent duo of flute and bassoon. This passes rapidly from one instrumental grouping to another, with restless modulations adding to the sense of mounting excitement. As with the Boulanger, Kluxen’s ability to establish just the right initial motion immediately paid off, the almost casual start here letting the music flow forward with just the right sense of inevitability, aided by eloquently phrased playing.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghhg43sJQzJG7p1Z1wgZK10MhQXNwGgmkM8DYUJEizg99bd2tVz7A6_yEIYI4BRMj0sf2VKH6Os30_dMTijpcX1NIqt7_vNMqwW3pQTM7mQSiaJCLseHujP9E9vMhmq7G8M-fbCLxR95yJHs5MJfMhPNjM0dUhH2p7a8yzMyr1niiZo84EMm_McxtJgEQ/s4134/2023-10-19_PacSymp_DG-5645.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2069" data-original-width="4134" height="260" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghhg43sJQzJG7p1Z1wgZK10MhQXNwGgmkM8DYUJEizg99bd2tVz7A6_yEIYI4BRMj0sf2VKH6Os30_dMTijpcX1NIqt7_vNMqwW3pQTM7mQSiaJCLseHujP9E9vMhmq7G8M-fbCLxR95yJHs5MJfMhPNjM0dUhH2p7a8yzMyr1niiZo84EMm_McxtJgEQ/w640-h320/2023-10-19_PacSymp_DG-5645.jpg" width="520" /></a></div><br />Perhaps having a seat a good deal closer than usual in the Segerstrom Concert Hall aided comprehension, but Kluxen's and the Pacific Symphony’s performance imparted, as well as great impact, also clarity, not only to Prokofiev’s teeming orchestral textures but also to the formal layout of the first movement, enhancing one’s appreciation of the originality and skill with which he here used the conventions of sonata design.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">Kluxen took the <i>Allegro marcato</i> second movement—effectively the symphony’s scherzo—very fast, thus avoiding any sense of a sinister subtext to its exuberant strut, while in the ensuing <i>Adagio</i> the Pacific Symphony players caught to perfection the movement’s unlikely but effective blend of plodding, ominous processional, tremulous high woodwind keening, and swooning romanticism in the upper strings.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">Finally, how refreshing it was to hear the concluding <i>Allegro giocoso</i> taken at its face value, with all the balls kept spinning by Kluxen’s podium energy and the orchestra’s whiplash response, and no attempt to disinter any of the “<i>…but is it really a celebration..?</i>” aspect that some interpreters find in the comparably triumphant finale of Shostakovich’s own <i>Fifth Symphony</i>.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBqMgoT4jCCbZgwPqT43oi4leCRbVgSTRUc5Q5QBP6QA7ESADfLnkrrYds0OerT4xBMsF2_HVaWbKjtXr2p441uzwoo-k25rEaIhDh7qDoR8NyfzcrFCKkplwk4mUavBAccL5oC8LgT5hkQxb5ZM2B7ijnTt9-u8MrSNs89rEEMuNUNZht_b5lxnECH6k/s1001/Jean_Sibelius_(Alfred%20Engstrom)1904).png" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1001" data-original-width="629" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBqMgoT4jCCbZgwPqT43oi4leCRbVgSTRUc5Q5QBP6QA7ESADfLnkrrYds0OerT4xBMsF2_HVaWbKjtXr2p441uzwoo-k25rEaIhDh7qDoR8NyfzcrFCKkplwk4mUavBAccL5oC8LgT5hkQxb5ZM2B7ijnTt9-u8MrSNs89rEEMuNUNZht_b5lxnECH6k/s320/Jean_Sibelius_(Alfred%20Engstrom)1904).png" width="201" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Caricature of Jean Sibelius in 1904.</td></tr></tbody></table>The centerpiece in this marvelously rewarding concert was a performance of Sibelius’s <i>Violin Concerto in D minor Op. 47</i>, completed in 1904 but extensively revised the following year. No wartime or explicit nationalistic associations here, except insofar as Sibelius’s entire career came to enshrine Finnish identity. Rather, the concerto was a painstaking and hard-won attempt to create a work worthy of the instrument with which the composer identified more than any other.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">After the mortal storm of Lili Boulanger’s tone-poem, the concerto’s serene opening—solo violin line <i>dolce ed espressivo</i> above muted <i>pianissimo</i> oscillations in the 1st and 2nd violins—seemed even more balm-like than usual, but the Korean/American violinist <a href="https://estheryooviolin.com/">Esther Yoo</a> immediately showed her attentiveness to the score’s detail, beginning <i>mezzoforte</i> as marked rather than the whisper of tone some soloists affect, and with meticulously observed phrasing and seeming effortless command of the part’s complexities and challenges thereafter in the long first movement.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">The slow movement and finale were equally keenly characterized: as before, it was perhaps sitting closer to the platform than usual which gave the impression that, firstly, the A<i>dagio di molto</i> moved ahead rather more purposefully than that marking would seem to indicate, and secondly, that the concluding <i>Allegro, ma non tanto</i> had much more <i>energico</i> than <i>non tanto</i> about it, a thrillingly relentless reading that made the musicologist Sir Donald Tovey’s dubbing of this movement as “<i>a polonaise for polar bears</i>” even less appropriate than usual.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">All told, the performance was a triumph of cohesion, clarity and vigor for Esther Yoo and the devoted support from Christian Kluxen and the Pacific Symphony at the top of their stellar form. Her mastery in the finale of the solo part’s daunting complexities had a swift, airborne grace that was simply exhilarating, and made one wonder whether she had ever contemplated, or tackled, the even more daunting challenges of the concerto’s original version.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJrkhNORUvR33Ll5M1rECHGvWFnpAVB63I8sSdMzVP0lECImlLmJbaH6bS1mYVflWlDKcIrqFWyzdG1BBGQo8wub3upwd0AfTtfk_0PQpDrPS2we34zj4GA_YvQE2b6yvK1Mnj8EF7hUOIL6xiw_JibovdbI8EyWXdw5QwjXFPZYSxMCB9-zRbhtnfbaI/s5000/2023-10-19_PacSymp_DG-9511.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3331" data-original-width="5000" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJrkhNORUvR33Ll5M1rECHGvWFnpAVB63I8sSdMzVP0lECImlLmJbaH6bS1mYVflWlDKcIrqFWyzdG1BBGQo8wub3upwd0AfTtfk_0PQpDrPS2we34zj4GA_YvQE2b6yvK1Mnj8EF7hUOIL6xiw_JibovdbI8EyWXdw5QwjXFPZYSxMCB9-zRbhtnfbaI/w400-h266/2023-10-19_PacSymp_DG-9511.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br />Ms. Yoo rewarded the ovation—which included notably whole-hearted approbation from the orchestra—not with any violinistic pyrotechnics but instead a touchingly simple arrangement of a Korean folksong entitled <i>Milyang Arirang</i>. But perhaps the most abiding impression from the whole concert was how, in contrast to Boulanger’s and Prokofiev’s virtuoso handling of very large orchestral forces, Sibelius had an almost uncanny ability to draw startlingly fresh and original colors and timbres from the most modest and standard line-up: a true, and cherishable, original.
</div><div><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"> ---ooo---</div><div><br /></div><div>Pacific Symphony Orchestra, Renée and Henry Segerstrom Concert Hall, Thursday October 19, 2003, 8 p.m.</div><div>Images: The performance: Doug Gifford; Lili Boulanger: Musée de la Musique, Philharmonie de Paris; Prokofiev: Colorisation by <a href="https://twitter.com/irishpianoman/status/1433521416977072129/photo/1">Andrew Newman</a>; Sibelius: Wikimedia Commons.</div><div><i><br /></i></div><div><i>If you found this review enjoyable, interesting, or informative, please feel free to <b><a href="https://www.buymeacoffee.com/davidjbrown10">Buy Me A Coffee</a></b>!</i></div>David J Brownhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08224977724583670873noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9194809435670809838.post-84822862706695146112023-10-15T15:13:00.017-07:002023-10-15T15:23:54.880-07:00Alcina: Six Characters in Search of Gender Identity<p> </p><div style="text-align: justify;"><p style="caret-color: rgb(51, 51, 51); color: #333333; font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 15.08px; line-height: 1.8em; margin: 0px 0px 0.75em; text-align: left;"></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSgunROG6LGtabOLNbthCncxnUwt6wcj1pMmt1hTW8vek8n5tiQSPEkIdBGbpa8C-sk_pfuJ3rdhA4Ga5WH87surxYmofQWSUkgSODR29VIas8GFkSkdkP_9uyWVoVcjPtPj3V6qmZjyp5M5m7-H6ZsunFkiBjun5x5TWER7evXKIvDBkCYJSbXNPsKdM/s4500/VG%20drink%20sunnymartini_31201.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2401" data-original-width="3600" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSgunROG6LGtabOLNbthCncxnUwt6wcj1pMmt1hTW8vek8n5tiQSPEkIdBGbpa8C-sk_pfuJ3rdhA4Ga5WH87surxYmofQWSUkgSODR29VIas8GFkSkdkP_9uyWVoVcjPtPj3V6qmZjyp5M5m7-H6ZsunFkiBjun5x5TWER7evXKIvDBkCYJSbXNPsKdM/s320/VG%20drink%20sunnymartini_31201.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Vanessa <span face="-webkit-standard" style="caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); text-align: justify;"> Goikoetxea<br /></span><span style="color: #333333; font-size: 15.08px;">Sunny Martini </span></td></tr></tbody></table><p></p><p style="caret-color: rgb(51, 51, 51); color: #333333; font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 15.08px; line-height: 1.8em; margin: 0px 0px 0.75em; text-align: left;"><span style="background-color: white; font-size: 15.08px;">REVIEW: </span><span style="font-size: 15.08px;">Seattle Opera</span></p><div style="caret-color: rgb(51, 51, 51); color: #333333; font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 15.08px; text-align: left;">McCaw Hall, Seattle<br /><div><div><br /></div><div>ERICA MINER</div></div></div></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">The Baroque operas of Georg Frideric Handel number in the dozens, but they are rarely performed in a major opera house relative to the so-called “meat” of the repertoire. This does not detract from the fact that the Baroque master could write tunes with the best of them. He did not hold back on gorgeous arias and ensembles in his 1735 work <i>Alcina</i>, a veritable feast of continuous melody, each more beautiful than the last.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">Seattle Opera made a bold choice in programming Alcina for the first time, as part of their main stage season. With only six characters and no chorus, full attention ultimately is focused on these solo performers in this complicated story based on the Renaissance poet Ludovico Ariosto’s <i>Orlando Furioso</i>. A parallel can be found in the six characters of Mozart’s <i>Così fan tutte</i> (which can be performed in a chamber-like version without chorus), but with a twist: in <i>Alcina</i>, the singers all sing above the staff, without an underlying bass voice to anchor the harmonies.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHSDqt3_7rRCaJ0jwjuPqDEdmmqPE_3lXXROnxNilDz9inet_ghf1IueoY-p__sONN_eQRbk1e6pV6Hcgm38SlEgh_EmSPrBnGIe7RIpkcaRSolSif4jjN_URxqmDBruPBmA5F43pYyABbP526NYLbJy_r2Hyp9LZ9XUqms0J-cI9UDB00l6rSiePw9U4/s4500/VG,%20RS,%20Jack%20sunnymartini_32928.jpg" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3001" data-original-width="4500" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHSDqt3_7rRCaJ0jwjuPqDEdmmqPE_3lXXROnxNilDz9inet_ghf1IueoY-p__sONN_eQRbk1e6pV6Hcgm38SlEgh_EmSPrBnGIe7RIpkcaRSolSif4jjN_URxqmDBruPBmA5F43pYyABbP526NYLbJy_r2Hyp9LZ9XUqms0J-cI9UDB00l6rSiePw9U4/s320/VG,%20RS,%20Jack%20sunnymartini_32928.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="text-align: justify;">Vanessa Goikoetxea, Randall Scotting<br />Sunny Martini</span></td></tr></tbody></table><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">This can be a bit challenging for the listener who is accustomed to hearing that lower voice. Fortunately, the exceptional Seattle cast, all of them returning artists, were up to the huge vocal challenges required of them, including impressive ornamentation in the <i>Da Capo</i> arias. The orchestra consisting of Seattle Symphony musicians accompanied them splendidly.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">Heading the cast in the title role as the sorceress one loves to hate but ultimately sympathizes with was Spanish soprano Vanessa Goikoetxea, who reminded the audience that she can be at home, not only in Handel but in everything from Mozart to Bizet. The role of Alcina was made famous by iconic coloratura Joan Sutherland, but Goikoetxea created her own unique version. Her versatile voice soared, making the most of the long phrases while milking the exploitative drama of the role, and her bearing was appropriately queenly as the sorceress who wields and then loses her powers, turning people into wild beasts and more. Her vocal artistry was put to the full test in Act Two, where, required to sing almost continually, she demonstrated her ability to spin a phrase and project a crystal-clear, powerful high “C” with a beefy, full tone that filled the entire house, seemingly without any strain whatsoever.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">The countertenor voice can take a bit of getting used to, but as Alcina’s paramour Ruggiero, Randall Scotting made an excellent impression. He negotiated the difficult <i>fioratura</i> in Act One with assurance and remained consistent throughout the evening. His dramatic conflicts were relatable and convincing.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTw1Gg4-bJ-MoYTpfLX_U8Af3B6OD1-GIOy2UEND7PLkAMGeWkgUZ7WW5hqdSBbjsCo4sBr8j_rUhpKv2TLOwnIYjQAjR2ub0UGJAbkONYZPN77qdUSyV_r2hlU5B2ihm2A1LtpcANHO8plIW4FM3L2_7wCsZqq4nsU8m6fjxPq1v1snK8LPRH10Ysfq4/s3049/Scotting%20armor%20Newton.jpg" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3049" data-original-width="2033" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTw1Gg4-bJ-MoYTpfLX_U8Af3B6OD1-GIOy2UEND7PLkAMGeWkgUZ7WW5hqdSBbjsCo4sBr8j_rUhpKv2TLOwnIYjQAjR2ub0UGJAbkONYZPN77qdUSyV_r2hlU5B2ihm2A1LtpcANHO8plIW4FM3L2_7wCsZqq4nsU8m6fjxPq1v1snK8LPRH10Ysfq4/s320/Scotting%20armor%20Newton.jpg" width="213" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Randall Scotting<br />Philip Newton</td></tr></tbody></table><div style="text-align: justify;">Known for performing everything from <i>bel canto</i> (Rossini’s <i>Cinderella</i>) to high Romantic drama (<i>Carmen</i>) with aplomb, mezzo-soprano Ginger Costa-Jackson maintained her usual high quality performance standards in the gender-switching role of Bradamante. Aside from the fiendish vocal pyrotechnics, which she brought off effortlessly, Jackson managed to be riveting dramatically, playing both ends against the middle when he/she was thrust into an impossible situation: first hiding her gender, then placating other key characters and convincing them of her true identity. As always, she was enthralling to watch.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEid__N-Hj5tht470Enl0wLvZvDP_Dt7wWC0Z3mEvkGpqOsUMHk2gqPMkyYLnASIEMy4Em0SaqZeCaR1MNUgenBoIDKyD4FekGqnzqncJmDTqpfsR7izA7H-qv8iqcffbLuE8qMauRWwbApSMJ8l0Tf1ZNmzugg6Vox7tuhyR_kXxrnDwFXAHG4xETLZzrM/s4448/Jackson%20armor%20sunnymartini_33338.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4448" data-original-width="2967" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEid__N-Hj5tht470Enl0wLvZvDP_Dt7wWC0Z3mEvkGpqOsUMHk2gqPMkyYLnASIEMy4Em0SaqZeCaR1MNUgenBoIDKyD4FekGqnzqncJmDTqpfsR7izA7H-qv8iqcffbLuE8qMauRWwbApSMJ8l0Tf1ZNmzugg6Vox7tuhyR_kXxrnDwFXAHG4xETLZzrM/s320/Jackson%20armor%20sunnymartini_33338.jpg" width="213" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Ginger Costa-Jackson<br />Sunny Martini</td></tr></tbody></table><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">As Alcina’s sister Morgana, Sharleen Joynt, who was memorable in SO’s <i>Orpheus and Euridice</i>, played the ingenue to the hilt. But it was her dazzling vocal performance that most captivated the audience. Her fresh voice came across beautifully overall, but her fearless leaps into the stratosphere of high “D’s” and “E-flats” brought down the house. Never wavering, she tackled her showpieces with utmost confidence. She is a young singer to watch.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDGeP-jEVF6avWxnhcnI7M9twNA_K9ly1YddvfVumq9J0ZbiYAA7HLCEZwpbk2NQ0mtmuIbdXVxA1rjWEhNAlNTGtavw3LwLcLetvjKcukHXgvxLqGS17lWsS7AeLQADG9RY2GgHmcmWcDQUbHnIJ3gdHKI9AEcwRjbrP3dJBqH-kLJM4B8m47A_vQSLY/s3953/Sharleen%20Joynt%20Alcina_Newton_2463.jpg" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2635" data-original-width="3953" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDGeP-jEVF6avWxnhcnI7M9twNA_K9ly1YddvfVumq9J0ZbiYAA7HLCEZwpbk2NQ0mtmuIbdXVxA1rjWEhNAlNTGtavw3LwLcLetvjKcukHXgvxLqGS17lWsS7AeLQADG9RY2GgHmcmWcDQUbHnIJ3gdHKI9AEcwRjbrP3dJBqH-kLJM4B8m47A_vQSLY/s320/Sharleen%20Joynt%20Alcina_Newton_2463.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Charleen Joynt,<br />Philip Newton<br /><br /></td></tr></tbody></table></div><div style="text-align: justify;">Tenor John Marzano had the difficult task of holding his own among his formidable colleagues in a role that was dramatically challenging to play, saving up his <i>forza</i> for the fiendish second act aria, which was a nonstop fireworks display. He handled the rapid <i>fioratura</i> adeptly and showed great potential for more extensive roles.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">Nina Yoshida Nelsen, in the relatively small role of Bradamante’s protector Melissa, carried herself with calm nobility and anchored the drama with her presence. Unlike the others, she had only one aria, but she made the most of it, performing with ease and poise.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAGKeSh_h9qagDncvAn6u0uxHIK_aiIvnR9DUbhOK1mAN_hk_O4-WWoZATfhgpRKfeZx6QajOwOqXbAEg4fcNYyJmWYeupuzKYvmO1QbWd773nzx4IY2lNSBeAeLMXj5Ddmrtwtk-om3KpxtueG7N9Pkty1nXUAZHJwD45dZCrePUtWPu7FLsEVMY9-xQ/s4500/John%20Marzano%20sunnymartini_31096.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3001" data-original-width="4500" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAGKeSh_h9qagDncvAn6u0uxHIK_aiIvnR9DUbhOK1mAN_hk_O4-WWoZATfhgpRKfeZx6QajOwOqXbAEg4fcNYyJmWYeupuzKYvmO1QbWd773nzx4IY2lNSBeAeLMXj5Ddmrtwtk-om3KpxtueG7N9Pkty1nXUAZHJwD45dZCrePUtWPu7FLsEVMY9-xQ/s320/John%20Marzano%20sunnymartini_31096.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">John Marzano<br />Sunny Martini</td></tr></tbody></table><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3gxnG6g3uWseCWCEBn0gHZ6jjl0YrGC4aj7Dmwc0X-zR9QH6uEF9YEy9nhXpNVMDIMrcVZ7Yk30RdQ73z5U3lpyHRbNdAZqBz2PxDDdwsZQEPRSOb8VIxNQOd1XYnsAUJs8ZLNxP0RJKrcgFXzJ6OVumVqoG5X4Fs1dhkm1sh0_MjCgNHvHjTZetm_pI/s4500/Nina%202%20sunnymartini_31375.jpg" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4500" data-original-width="3001" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3gxnG6g3uWseCWCEBn0gHZ6jjl0YrGC4aj7Dmwc0X-zR9QH6uEF9YEy9nhXpNVMDIMrcVZ7Yk30RdQ73z5U3lpyHRbNdAZqBz2PxDDdwsZQEPRSOb8VIxNQOd1XYnsAUJs8ZLNxP0RJKrcgFXzJ6OVumVqoG5X4Fs1dhkm1sh0_MjCgNHvHjTZetm_pI/s320/Nina%202%20sunnymartini_31375.jpg" width="213" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Nina Yoshida Nelsen<br />Sunny Martini</td></tr></tbody></table><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">Making her SO conducting debut, Christine Brandes (who formerly has sung the role of Morgana) performed a major miracle in achieving the sound of so-called “authentic” performance practice from modern instruments. She maintained perfect balance in the small but well-chosen ensemble, always attuned to the vocal needs of the singers, never covering them, and allowing them to navigate their multifaceted challenges successfully. The violin and cello solos merit special mention for fine, sensitive playing.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5J3Jnz-XDBpT4ChFcE3snhA79UUT2ySVeZe4V-Pp2iBfC-dm4abo0Tr1ECNlAFIbOApBVUu7mgvwtxYbRwcR6iPeFrwV1kAhRWdv6SZgYzlkd9knI4NWzN1iXYslf4jfjxY2VIFmVFS8gX2AEHkPjM5oKLMjmJ22fjAsQxfl5S2le9HdEBk2_LEqR6sE/s4500/Brandes,%20orch%20sunnymartini_32085.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3001" data-original-width="4500" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5J3Jnz-XDBpT4ChFcE3snhA79UUT2ySVeZe4V-Pp2iBfC-dm4abo0Tr1ECNlAFIbOApBVUu7mgvwtxYbRwcR6iPeFrwV1kAhRWdv6SZgYzlkd9knI4NWzN1iXYslf4jfjxY2VIFmVFS8gX2AEHkPjM5oKLMjmJ22fjAsQxfl5S2le9HdEBk2_LEqR6sE/s320/Brandes,%20orch%20sunnymartini_32085.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Christine Brandes<br />Sunny Martini</td></tr></tbody></table><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">The rest of the creative team all made their SO debuts, and the production had its hitches. While Ian William Galloway’s video designs were pleasingly evocative of the forests and palm trees of a paradise island, the constant presence of Matthew Richardson’s stage lights was overwhelming and distracting, especially when the lights were raised and lowered during the action, interfering with the sight lines onstage. Hannah Clark’s shifting chair sets were minimal but seemed to represent the fluctuating relationships between the characters.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">The production overall also was problematic in that director Tim Albery had several singers disrobing, at times during some hugely difficult passagework. While this is understandable in the case of Bradamante revealing his/her true gender, it generally was disruptive, and also produced a comical reaction from the audience when it was not necessarily called for. To their credit, the singers handled what was required of them with impressive equanimity. However, Albery did excel when it came to action, moving the characters about the stage with both dramatic energy and deep emotional gestures.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhOFXyeTjeqg8-8p3dZ292BePSYGRQeyAWdWzljlvaGcvuFkMQ9soj0yzCaiV3udvT-CS2ip2tWB5g9ygtOY2ewKeAsuy00xC06iwIlak48Zebm318SC4OTj9rxkevl1A0NjNuMjwZqZ7823pwMZD5A9bhyphenhyphenM7XOLnX4t7dJkn-P0taQxgR5vCCW_hyZarY/s3847/VG,%20Scotting%20Newton_3669.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2564" data-original-width="3847" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhOFXyeTjeqg8-8p3dZ292BePSYGRQeyAWdWzljlvaGcvuFkMQ9soj0yzCaiV3udvT-CS2ip2tWB5g9ygtOY2ewKeAsuy00xC06iwIlak48Zebm318SC4OTj9rxkevl1A0NjNuMjwZqZ7823pwMZD5A9bhyphenhyphenM7XOLnX4t7dJkn-P0taQxgR5vCCW_hyZarY/s320/VG,%20Scotting%20Newton_3669.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="text-align: justify;">Vanessa Goikoetxea, Randall Scotting<br />Philip Newton</span></td></tr></tbody></table><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">Some very unique and key props included a gleaming, beautifully detailed sword, Alcina’s intricately carved snake cane/staff and matching gold snake-carved compact and lipstick, which added to her powerful sorceress effects, and an enchanted ring. </div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_8LOvJvaK5sqmHFZKVy74ChbI2sQBtCDYMlGuarvLv1jMAWVMKTyWinDactnz1yTk1KxRImC103xxXBuSkJYZv68UFpAGK3DkQ2s6OB7jEfZMqD4Ppuif6cdkrJpdQjwkgQcFD39vVtHUskrcjLGJmym_8dPDUMvxoTpOI50fv_YrBhJar-rOjBwOKuM/s4032/VG,%20bear%20Newton_8641.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="2688" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_8LOvJvaK5sqmHFZKVy74ChbI2sQBtCDYMlGuarvLv1jMAWVMKTyWinDactnz1yTk1KxRImC103xxXBuSkJYZv68UFpAGK3DkQ2s6OB7jEfZMqD4Ppuif6cdkrJpdQjwkgQcFD39vVtHUskrcjLGJmym_8dPDUMvxoTpOI50fv_YrBhJar-rOjBwOKuM/s320/VG,%20bear%20Newton_8641.jpg" width="213" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="text-align: justify;">Vanessa Goikoetxea, Nina Yoshida Nelsen, John Marzano<br />Philip Newton</span></td></tr></tbody></table><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">It was unclear whether an imposing, multipurpose bear rug was one of Alcina’s unfortunate beings turned into a wild beast or symbolic of her more animalistic instincts. In either case, it grabbed the attention.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiH3XUzPnP0Unsqw6ctC2hrdTgqC76C4Kg09MATbqcOxiyvsFDZqUAqV27wXWQvR6ExVsv4mF4gx2hE09RK7ItCvMj7L5CR7hZUUrjK_jPJ5Bx1rdMBnn2CMiOKRLd9I4m6SkLSi_jasagPu_1TMkmWuere402-Hfqyg6c7WJU5TsGIvlEaviT5dDadj_8/s4500/VG,%20bear%20sunnymartini_33070.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4500" data-original-width="3001" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiH3XUzPnP0Unsqw6ctC2hrdTgqC76C4Kg09MATbqcOxiyvsFDZqUAqV27wXWQvR6ExVsv4mF4gx2hE09RK7ItCvMj7L5CR7hZUUrjK_jPJ5Bx1rdMBnn2CMiOKRLd9I4m6SkLSi_jasagPu_1TMkmWuere402-Hfqyg6c7WJU5TsGIvlEaviT5dDadj_8/s320/VG,%20bear%20sunnymartini_33070.jpg" width="213" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="text-align: justify;">Vanessa Goikoetxea<br />Sunny Martini</span></td></tr></tbody></table><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">On the whole, <i>Alcina</i> made a positive impression. It’s worth going to see for the glorious music and courageous, proficient singing. Handel lives. </div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjyXCnZ48xd3zk2rp8tBwNg-GnligSOUKR3aS50ZP_-Q8ER9usSLymX_DcpONaMEU1lBOyANLTo0MOmAeXa6yxKKXlVrz8dZaM2tqZLhlYJ8SjP1l084ONY700BQW69UcN9L6-5cZveoMaAd_Q7LVKy3IDBEqPOxK-lHYL_PK2LOFmiFYWzHoyn2S06eaI/s4500/ensemble%20sunnymartini_33655.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3001" data-original-width="4500" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjyXCnZ48xd3zk2rp8tBwNg-GnligSOUKR3aS50ZP_-Q8ER9usSLymX_DcpONaMEU1lBOyANLTo0MOmAeXa6yxKKXlVrz8dZaM2tqZLhlYJ8SjP1l084ONY700BQW69UcN9L6-5cZveoMaAd_Q7LVKy3IDBEqPOxK-lHYL_PK2LOFmiFYWzHoyn2S06eaI/s320/ensemble%20sunnymartini_33655.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">Photo credits: Sunny Martini, Philip Newton</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><div style="caret-color: rgb(51, 51, 51); color: #333333; font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 15.08px; text-align: center;">---ooo--- </div><div style="caret-color: rgb(51, 51, 51); color: #333333; font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 15.08px; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="caret-color: rgb(51, 51, 51); color: #333333; font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 15.08px; text-align: left;"> <i>Erica can be reached at: eminer5472@gmail.com</i></div></div>Erica Minerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15981212553256317650noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9194809435670809838.post-55065909937996950752023-09-14T23:23:00.238-07:002023-09-17T20:41:33.620-07:00LBSO Stars Shine at the 100-inch Telescope Dome<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2tJOI9YRswI5eb-zQqBx3UVFhGp-OhadS5vEDpKxPpeqkQfELQhWh5Bo41kknSj6vaBCjQohzpdQIc1iA3PvGrlxUZpeipK9S4fOcgGQ0JbxAggG2ogefSm_oKN5XPyEDCr6hyl2OHeDdvP1JGHVDtN1eYUBgaF1qIld_5vBs75QsfqSpTCFwQgUzvTg/s3776/Mt%20Wilson%20Sept10_23%20G.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3020" data-original-width="3776" height="416" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2tJOI9YRswI5eb-zQqBx3UVFhGp-OhadS5vEDpKxPpeqkQfELQhWh5Bo41kknSj6vaBCjQohzpdQIc1iA3PvGrlxUZpeipK9S4fOcgGQ0JbxAggG2ogefSm_oKN5XPyEDCr6hyl2OHeDdvP1JGHVDtN1eYUBgaF1qIld_5vBs75QsfqSpTCFwQgUzvTg/w640-h512/Mt%20Wilson%20Sept10_23%20G.JPG" width="520" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Long Beach Symphony String Sextet: <i>l-r</i> Roger Wilkie, Chloé Tardif, Jonah Sirota, <br />Andrew Duckles, Cécilia Tsan, Allan Hon.</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><div>REVIEW</div><div><br /></div><div>Long Beach Symphony String Sextet play Brahms and Hollywood, Mount Wilson</div><div>DAVID J BROWN</div><div><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRZtAKfVGPc-50xyWwhru6trs5lE6klFcqVigMLyKHU5nxO1tmq9zdGJg4_eMPNemaWzBTKjA4PUZG0bRmttYrjcjgZvrS45qUwYZghAHyhHlbF6aXOL9LHN2fABElbIg8ic3T9ic_v15Opx-AImHN52WhchVAP3fql450PpqLGB3cxLKr4RTBm_9sliQ/s3528/IMG_0013%20(1).jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3528" data-original-width="2463" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRZtAKfVGPc-50xyWwhru6trs5lE6klFcqVigMLyKHU5nxO1tmq9zdGJg4_eMPNemaWzBTKjA4PUZG0bRmttYrjcjgZvrS45qUwYZghAHyhHlbF6aXOL9LHN2fABElbIg8ic3T9ic_v15Opx-AImHN52WhchVAP3fql450PpqLGB3cxLKr4RTBm_9sliQ/s320/IMG_0013%20(1).jpg" width="223" /></a></div>As well as being Artistic Director of the Mount Wilson Observatory Sunday afternoon “Concerts in the Dome,” the French-born, LA-based cellist Cécilia Tsan is also the Long Beach Symphony Orchestra’s Principal Cello, and for the penultimate concert in the 2023 season of this ever-more-successful series, she brought five of her distinguished colleagues from the orchestra’s string sections with her to play one of Brahms’ earlier masterworks, as well as a suite of extracts from over a half-century of iconic Hollywood movie scores.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">LA Opus has been singing the praises (<a href="https://www.laopus.com/2023/08/magic-musical-moments-at-mount-wilson.html">most recently by my colleague John Stodder Jr.</a>) of these concerts ever since the inaugural series in 2017, but a recent encomium in another august publication beginning with “LA” (and with a somewhat larger readership) was responsible for most of last weekend’s capacity audience being first-timers at this unique venue—at least, that was as revealed in the show of hands requested by Mount Wilson Trustee Dan Kohne in his introductory talk.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXxkLu3bRp1BO65K6Z80QgKJ00br0wVN9vMKF64ADIIMCF5IsTTtveZwCnQqTGjLHA6mHNnXBC_cG6aFzunm1d38gtiVrw5uIMYmaY-dc0m_VunGtIcH14qUp4G0l7pswU-ory58z1GweUJxxKjgLxPzyttboLNU13aK86sCDvVSNJ2D0zvPqP7cH9okQ/s2755/image5.jpeg" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2755" data-original-width="2164" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXxkLu3bRp1BO65K6Z80QgKJ00br0wVN9vMKF64ADIIMCF5IsTTtveZwCnQqTGjLHA6mHNnXBC_cG6aFzunm1d38gtiVrw5uIMYmaY-dc0m_VunGtIcH14qUp4G0l7pswU-ory58z1GweUJxxKjgLxPzyttboLNU13aK86sCDvVSNJ2D0zvPqP7cH9okQ/s320/image5.jpeg" width="251" /></a></div>But before a note of music was heard, the building’s grandiose mechanical theatricality once again thrilled newbies and old hands alike—the lofty boom and grind of the roof shutters opening like the doors of Valhalla, as resounding in their sonority as the inexorable slow turning of the whole dome was silent, and the latter motion, carrying with it the platform and audience, so smooth that eyes were inevitably fooled into perceiving the telescope on its mount at the center to be rotating, and not the floor and walls around it: all of this a tribute to the vision of the building's designers and the skill of its fabricators more than a century ago.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">... and so this same optical illusion made the staircase leading up from the level beneath seem to slide round into position adjacent to the slightly raised platform (rather than the opposite which is what actually happens), and the members of the Long Beach Symphony String Sextet stepped into view—in addition to Ms. Tsan, they were Roger Wilkie, the LBSO’s Concertmaster; Chloé Tardif, Principal Second Violin; Andrew Duckles, Principal Viola; Jonah Sirota, Assistant Principal Viola; and Allan Hon, Associate Principal Cello.
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZhMSKaQOPBfSw9e3WL0qzhbeYY1NfSvMD9D0UYCljHL-gjAJ_dWSkUEgwm65Xjr7Dj2F9eK9I5KoXziv4FZYSaVfrV6aOiGiS97ZUa_DpSD_0UFndXLDX06rrXn4nb7qG5-vDvI5jpwcmj_4_WZH2yl_XdsR4FJKv3Mq5W8z3KD4m64OP4HkqM-57EKU/s1083/image1.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="503" data-original-width="1083" height="242" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZhMSKaQOPBfSw9e3WL0qzhbeYY1NfSvMD9D0UYCljHL-gjAJ_dWSkUEgwm65Xjr7Dj2F9eK9I5KoXziv4FZYSaVfrV6aOiGiS97ZUa_DpSD_0UFndXLDX06rrXn4nb7qG5-vDvI5jpwcmj_4_WZH2yl_XdsR4FJKv3Mq5W8z3KD4m64OP4HkqM-57EKU/w640-h298/image1.jpeg" width="520" /></a></div><br /><div style="text-align: justify;">Johannes Brahms composed his <i>String Sextet No. 1 in B-flat major, Op. 18</i>, in 1859-1860, but though he was still only in his late 20s, it can hardly be regarded as immature or a work of inexperience. He already had a solid reputation as a published and performed composer and was recognized as an important new musical voice. In addition his extensive study of earlier music had led to a declared commitment to maintaining continuity with the past.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgh6oEkpKnFcEo9NXOBa7jDjjPeDAWCWDXXv2mp7NpStzS4PvpI22_M4AYvta8CVVMFFYWIGQLwI_Gn9uG-kpsBdnFeRicVPQ06Vgl0u3doWZInJ8RZrW3WSRQ0ytFQDif3ouVlR8TP4j3fUJVQqiT7XJVJvC5dYZpJawFYXnez56op2rjr9AKA5PAx7Zw/s2000/Brahms%201860.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2000" data-original-width="1511" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgh6oEkpKnFcEo9NXOBa7jDjjPeDAWCWDXXv2mp7NpStzS4PvpI22_M4AYvta8CVVMFFYWIGQLwI_Gn9uG-kpsBdnFeRicVPQ06Vgl0u3doWZInJ8RZrW3WSRQ0ytFQDif3ouVlR8TP4j3fUJVQqiT7XJVJvC5dYZpJawFYXnez56op2rjr9AKA5PAx7Zw/w242-h320/Brahms%201860.jpg" width="242" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">1860 portrait by August Weger<br />of Johannes Brahms. </td></tr></tbody></table>Rather as by naming his two multi-movement orchestral works of 1858 and 1859 "serenades" he had sidestepped the portentous challenge of “the symphony,” despite their symphonic scale and, to some extent, structure, so in this, his first acknowledged chamber work without piano, he avoided the classic string quartet form, at which he had already made several but, to his intensely self-critical eye, unsuccessful attempts. Instead Brahms turned to this relatively new chamber music genre that added a second viola and second cello to the standard quartet line-up.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">The result was an expansive and generally genial work that at once manages to be memorably lyrical, confidently conceived in its Classical four-movement layout (I. Sonata-design first movement, II. Slow movement set of variations, III. Scherzo + trio, IV. Rondo finale), and intricately wrought for all six instruments in its bar-by-bar textural complexity.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">The LBSO Sextet’s account of the <i>Sextet</i> was judiciously spacious, but vigorous and attentive to detail throughout, with the opening <i>Allegro, ma non troppo</i> movement running to a full quarter-hour due to the inclusion of its big exposition repeat (and who would not want a second chance to hear such a generous flowering of memorable melody?). The whole performance extended to just on 40 minutes.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">For this concert I experimented with sitting well back along one of the “wings” of seating that the donut shape of the platform dictates, rather than within a few rows of the performers as at previous ones. Following with the score in hand I did find the inner viola parts somewhat obscured amidst the overall rich homogeneity of sound gifted by the dome’s acoustic, whereas the violins and cellos were strongly delineated—no more so than when Ms. Tsan’s cello sang forth Brahms’ long-breathed opening melody.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMjMt3z18oqvt5M1efB8Mfl6RX0yBW0ES7sSs5OCGY1Hsvg3Hvx-cr7oAzmvHAe2GOtU9cshfACWpkHn_YA6Wv_SrwYXwXTo37NwAaiKx9On__5rdYc4DJGeFxaov3Nc1kInypHWApDBH4xSW24yJgDZUfOPPwEKrKFDSWaepok5V9XpdKCkdTHkdhPx8/s4032/IMG_7965.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="390" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMjMt3z18oqvt5M1efB8Mfl6RX0yBW0ES7sSs5OCGY1Hsvg3Hvx-cr7oAzmvHAe2GOtU9cshfACWpkHn_YA6Wv_SrwYXwXTo37NwAaiKx9On__5rdYc4DJGeFxaov3Nc1kInypHWApDBH4xSW24yJgDZUfOPPwEKrKFDSWaepok5V9XpdKCkdTHkdhPx8/w640-h480/IMG_7965.jpeg" width="520" /></a></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div>This grand flowering of Brahms’ first maturity was complemented by a unique musical <i>bonne bouche</i>, or rather three of them. The <i>Film Suite for String Sextet</i> newly arranged by the Long Beach Symphony’s Assistant Principal Viola, Jonah Sirota, comprised the title cue by Bernard Herrmann from Hitchcock’s <i>North by Northwest</i> (1959), “My Friend the Brachiosaurus” from John Williams’ score to the original <i>Jurassic Park</i> (1993), and Erich Wolfgang Korngold’s ebullient “Epilogue and Finale” from <i>The Prince and the Pauper</i> (1937).</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjcUbrQ3P09Tmm9t9Z5JI92UTmGkiUMn-aoXFIPuZ5yxeXgGuiFQ8jIFMUKkcx52UDs4PCUeXYsWmbft2jY-2dMPvfyexKPNcsmxtTQs2OETzTQSCfqdVj_YLJRi0JG5BIq45nq_NvPB0Gn2Ve_ZSgV7-wlyximvixz4qNiHsMXXplF7khZqHShDfkBzGw/s643/Screenshot%202023-09-16%20at%2011.55.51%20AM.png" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="643" data-original-width="622" height="232" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjcUbrQ3P09Tmm9t9Z5JI92UTmGkiUMn-aoXFIPuZ5yxeXgGuiFQ8jIFMUKkcx52UDs4PCUeXYsWmbft2jY-2dMPvfyexKPNcsmxtTQs2OETzTQSCfqdVj_YLJRi0JG5BIq45nq_NvPB0Gn2Ve_ZSgV7-wlyximvixz4qNiHsMXXplF7khZqHShDfkBzGw/w194-h200/Screenshot%202023-09-16%20at%2011.55.51%20AM.png" width="225" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Hitchcock and Herrmann.</td></tr></tbody></table>So idiomatic was Sirota’s strings-only treatment of Herrmann’s inventively varied rhythmic and melodic tics that, rather than making one miss anything of the original full orchestral score, it simply brought directly to the mind’s eye Saul Bass’s jagged visuals for <i>North by Northwest</i>’s title sequence (making one feel like stopping there and settling down to watch Alfred Hitchcock’s masterpiece all over again!).</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">As for Spielberg’s groundbreaking CGI <i>tour-de-force</i>, in the original movie the Tyrannosaurus attack that immediately preceded the Brachiosaurus scene was so compulsively thrilling that this viewer at least retained no memory of Williams’ gentle musical underpinning of the latter. Here, as the central “slow movement” of Sirota’s <i>Suite</i>, it was pleasant enough but not particularly memorable.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBQYH-yEilklqYItf_yS0f88l0YLZQEz3mDxskOejfYq2DV6jZy54tRfgsoVTXYQmvx79HwPbSv5agOMSfHkw_CcYtvQWvOgOCcAnjg6HW7VBvMtdaWKenpKjLduvBG26wPYfa64NBVppJZNMoGZGH_14ntyJtwecnnFy1mkNSAeMFIUbaUcKav8MyYEc/s1200/main_news_image.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="800" data-original-width="1200" height="133" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBQYH-yEilklqYItf_yS0f88l0YLZQEz3mDxskOejfYq2DV6jZy54tRfgsoVTXYQmvx79HwPbSv5agOMSfHkw_CcYtvQWvOgOCcAnjg6HW7VBvMtdaWKenpKjLduvBG26wPYfa64NBVppJZNMoGZGH_14ntyJtwecnnFy1mkNSAeMFIUbaUcKav8MyYEc/w200-h133/main_news_image.jpg" width="200" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Erich Wolfgang Korngold.</td></tr></tbody></table>Korngold, on the other hand, himself thought so highly of his <i>Prince and the Pauper</i> theme that he re-used it in the weightier concert context of his 1945 <i>Violin Concerto in D major Op.35</i> (memorably performed in 2019 by violinist Simone Porter and the Long Beach Symphony, under Music Director Eckart Preu, and <a href="https://www.laopus.com/2019/05/mozart-and-korngold-mature-prodigies-at.html">reviewed here</a>). Anyone knowing the concerto might, I guess, have missed its full flowering compared to this shorter movie version, but again Sirota’s version amply projected, and his LBSO colleagues clearly relished, all of the original’s swashbuckling <i>élan</i>.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5RRfoVkJtHaNUws8rlhjQ2ozta0VZW8ONbblKR_CkC8IkdtpcOO-Wjw_GYNYKREPy4pBSMrK253WXlRYajbT-YoSnh49tRHqNWCP9ZGLHyv5IiUPYDcIBSwZHLcA4rJhrO_KoIHOt2yVGxyfvPLNY8Sk9ac3OPaWlC34SLD8Bnj4KYgk1znA-PEgmSSg/s457/Screenshot%202023-09-16%20at%2012.16.16%20PM.png" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="457" data-original-width="412" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5RRfoVkJtHaNUws8rlhjQ2ozta0VZW8ONbblKR_CkC8IkdtpcOO-Wjw_GYNYKREPy4pBSMrK253WXlRYajbT-YoSnh49tRHqNWCP9ZGLHyv5IiUPYDcIBSwZHLcA4rJhrO_KoIHOt2yVGxyfvPLNY8Sk9ac3OPaWlC34SLD8Bnj4KYgk1znA-PEgmSSg/w180-h200/Screenshot%202023-09-16%20at%2012.16.16%20PM.png" width="180" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Jonah Sirota.</td></tr></tbody></table>Frankly, Jonah Sirota seemed to be onto a winner here, and one could imagine a whole series of such arrangements, given the quantity and variety of great material to choose from over nearly a century of movie music. What a unique selling-point it would be for a recording to be made in the 100-inch telescope dome’s unique acoustic!</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">It was good to see amongst the cheering audience several of the <a href="https://longbeachsymphony.org/">Long Beach Symphony</a>’s management and directorial luminaries, including Kelly Ruggirello, President, and Roger Goulette, Chairman of the Board, enjoying their first Mount Wilson experience as well as supporting the home team. This concert was a triumph not only for the six LBSO musicians but the largest audience yet for Ms. Tsan’s and Mr. Kohne’s <a href="https://www.mtwilson.edu/concerts/">enterprising series</a>. The final concert of this year, by the Los Angeles Reed Quintet, is already sold out.
</div><div style="text-align: center;">---ooo---</div><div><br /></div><div>100-Inch Telescope Dome, Mount Wilson Observatory, Sunday 10 September 2023, 3 p.m. and 5 p.m.</div><div>Photos: The performance: Stuart Matranga (<i>top</i>) and Todd Mason (<i>remainder</i>); Brahms: Wikimedia Commons; Herrmann and Hitchcock: <a href="https://www.chrisbuck.com/blog/i-found-this-picture-in-a-folder-in-my-storage">chrisbuck.com</a>; Korngold: Bard College; Sirota: Walter Pickering, courtesy <a href="https://www.jonahsirota.com/about">artist's website</a>.</div>David J Brownhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08224977724583670873noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9194809435670809838.post-67994162672041946872023-08-29T19:56:00.114-07:002023-08-29T20:52:44.898-07:00Magic Musical Moments at Mount Wilson Observatory<br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOIcuCcWSXHFNyO8TcNZ4M5hEXpe58YobCgKud-hpA3acDOaKjntxeEzaeEBPgUrAyNBN_Xve2d64W_as6wahTjHL_2pzWORsVuPjzvHuC1RAZx8gxwAiwGQ_H7zyp6CvpUhGty7yYNi9TtdjxcNmg68jR06imAa1w_D47X6L8szWiGj1qQ7lkmaa0Q4g/s3341/Zelter8-13-23.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2842" data-original-width="3341" height="442" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOIcuCcWSXHFNyO8TcNZ4M5hEXpe58YobCgKud-hpA3acDOaKjntxeEzaeEBPgUrAyNBN_Xve2d64W_as6wahTjHL_2pzWORsVuPjzvHuC1RAZx8gxwAiwGQ_H7zyp6CvpUhGty7yYNi9TtdjxcNmg68jR06imAa1w_D47X6L8szWiGj1qQ7lkmaa0Q4g/w640-h544/Zelter8-13-23.jpg" width="520" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Zelter String Quartet (l-r Carson Rick, viola; Kyle Gilner and Gallia Kastner, violins; <br />Allan Hon, cello) in front of their concert hall for the afternoon, the 100-inch telescope <br />dome at Mount Wilson Observatory.</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><div style="text-align: justify;">REVIEW</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">Zelter String Quartet play Mason, Puccini, and Mendelssohn, Mount Wilson Observatory</div><div style="text-align: justify;">JOHN STODDER</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><i><br /></i></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><i>“Why are we so lucky?”</i> I asked Nicolette, my wife and date for the August 13 performance of the Zelter String Quartet at Mount Wilson Observatory. It was a beautiful midsummer Sunday, with sparkling clear air once we rose out of the hazy LA basin. The switchbacking path of the Angeles Crest Highway displayed the San Gabriel Mountains at the ideal time of day as we headed up the mountain for the 3 p.m. concert. Then, boom, 30 seconds after we parked and locked our car, the Mount Wilson shuttle arrived with two seats unoccupied. That was when I asked my rhetorical question, as we rode the final stretch to the 100-inch Hooker telescope and the dome where the concert would be played. </div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIUJS3ElLz1Mn0J82Q7CKG5dVysr3Pk4BKyF9tIkNYbL57sSASJP4EgnMrXeY4E87YgbcqsrfooAJZD97AKOzT9HzyXtSNwG0iiT4CQ5KBEqQb83szJnEu-sIULayBLWhjarRoXFq1XiTRT0KvSeytH5A01P-cG-JOhJ7zyNuL0CtIegrxfiqOjQtkXgQ/s1035/Cecilia%20in%20trees.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="870" data-original-width="1035" height="168" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIUJS3ElLz1Mn0J82Q7CKG5dVysr3Pk4BKyF9tIkNYbL57sSASJP4EgnMrXeY4E87YgbcqsrfooAJZD97AKOzT9HzyXtSNwG0iiT4CQ5KBEqQb83szJnEu-sIULayBLWhjarRoXFq1XiTRT0KvSeytH5A01P-cG-JOhJ7zyNuL0CtIegrxfiqOjQtkXgQ/w200-h168/Cecilia%20in%20trees.jpg" width="200" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Cécilia Tsan.</td></tr></tbody></table>And “<i>How lucky are we?</i>” was certainly the right question for each member of the audience to ask after an emotive, highly satisfying concert by the Zelter String Quartet.
Mount Wilson is one of the most unusual concert venues in the world. For the past several years, Artistic Director Cécilia Tsan, an accomplished and treasured locally-based cellist, has programmed Sunday Afternoon "Concerts in the Dome" at the 115-year-old observatory, sharing the stage with the "Talks and Telescopes" lecture series produced by the Mount Wilson Institute. (For the 2023 season, two more concerts and three more lectures remain. To find out more, go to Mount Wilson’s <a href="https://www.mtwilson.edu/">web page</a> and click <a href="https://www.mtwilson.edu/events/">Events</a>.)</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">The concert stage utilizes half of a donut-shaped balcony surrounding the great telescope that discovered the larger universe, no less. This steel floor once supported the hurried footsteps of the world’s most accomplished astronomers, mechanical engineers and telescope "fix-its." To make it into a performance space, risers are placed in an open location on one side of the telescope, abutting the dome’s interior wall. That’s for the performers. Wings of folding chairs extend to each side, perhaps 15 rows, 10 seats wide, in both directions, so it has something of a theater-in-the-round feeling.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">The sightlines are good, but because there’s no elevation for the audience, seats near the front are preferred. From an audibility standpoint, there isn’t a bad seat. The acoustics are surprisingly pure considering music was the farthest thing from what it was built for. There’s a bit more reverb than is fashionable now in concert halls, but to my ears, the echo is minimal, natural, and pleasing.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjk7HEnL24sQM256ejT2zZdd6-M1cDtBqml7rnuIJknlEb7h7lKjL6thOP7rUt5_KU_r6b5tJ8WgT0zV42CuFmJQhI5FhnzN0OsgqRQa4R1iAyyf6f8F4GaSy64rGZcRieo_YKhtg9kBjcqr7t2R3AG6EbUYA6res1UCc7rRO5-vqg8M8SK759vd92svDI/s4032/IMG_7479.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="390" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjk7HEnL24sQM256ejT2zZdd6-M1cDtBqml7rnuIJknlEb7h7lKjL6thOP7rUt5_KU_r6b5tJ8WgT0zV42CuFmJQhI5FhnzN0OsgqRQa4R1iAyyf6f8F4GaSy64rGZcRieo_YKhtg9kBjcqr7t2R3AG6EbUYA6res1UCc7rRO5-vqg8M8SK759vd92svDI/w640-h480/IMG_7479.jpg" width="520" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Mount Wilson Institute Trustee Dan Kohne introduces the concert—and its unique venue.</td></tr></tbody></table><br />Besides the opportunity to return to Mount Wilson, this concert was circled on our calendar because the Zelter String Quartet are exceptional. This would be my second time hearing them. I had no doubt they would command the Mount Wilson space, and indeed they did.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">The point of a string quartet is to present a kind of real-time musical conversation among four strong voices given equal access to the ears of the audience. Joseph Haydn, the father of the string quartet, strove to embody democracy in this form, and composers since then have written quartets according to that principle. But what are the four equal voices meant to model? An idealized debate in which each unique voice is heard? Or are we meant to hear a single voice, expressed in multiple dimensions?</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhW1a7NrE881XVtxK2Ux580b5CZHc5HiOzj-WVBV4svkqVWULvK0VfPh05WeRk0HhMgTkDT54OTojMsYyWF7j7LioAKK5O0evjXgT8hzcWyBRUrkr84zC5S44p9hE-H6ZhjOxg13sSFSlnlmwrvQ1KPcyk-rcW9Jv98WJusRn4fr3KGN8-RZZnty6thfEY/s4032/IMG_7484.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhW1a7NrE881XVtxK2Ux580b5CZHc5HiOzj-WVBV4svkqVWULvK0VfPh05WeRk0HhMgTkDT54OTojMsYyWF7j7LioAKK5O0evjXgT8hzcWyBRUrkr84zC5S44p9hE-H6ZhjOxg13sSFSlnlmwrvQ1KPcyk-rcW9Jv98WJusRn4fr3KGN8-RZZnty6thfEY/w400-h300/IMG_7484.jpeg" width="400" /></a></div><br />To be sure, every quartet and every composer of quartets exploits both capabilities. Still, Zelter’s members struck me as unusually well-connected musically. They strive, and succeed, in creating one voice: rich, soulful and alive. They accomplish this magic via a mindfulness that is palpable. You can see it in these musicians' eyes and body language, in addition to hearing it in their blend: they listen intently to each other, and use what they hear to make constant subtle adjustments so that the collective voice is as beautifully balanced as possible. From brief, post-concert conversations with Zelter members, I confirmed the ensemble’s intramural responsiveness is something they work on and are proud of. As if to underscore that egalitarian vibe, there is no “first violinist” in Zelter. Kyle Gilner and Gallia Kastner changed seats between the second and third piece.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">All of this goodness came together to give the audience an unforgettable concert, with performances of music by LA native Todd Mason (producer of the <a href="https://masonconcerts.org/">Mason House concerts</a> in West Los Angeles), the late 19th century Italian opera maestro Giacomo Puccini, and an Early Romantic masterpiece from an 18-year-old Felix Mendelssohn. It was a serious program that launched journeys into space-time, into depths of mourning, and finally into an explosion of youthful passions guided by genius.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjf5h2eBnI4cli0SR2hX1sFvseitZxIqwB14Ndlj1Zhh0CMPoSG6yA-MdLz1WkWGf7_T9hrA6IPuzVAlcEEaMg7c2abpg5FOJ2BNuH6qVzMEdmuRvZdqkCI_sHeMaofKkH5uhhp_t9hLcIo6IdwvLsQ2TwH_IqZIvB97HNy8LIZnyorECHW9cH3MIcHALY/s968/Todd%20Mason.png" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="968" data-original-width="968" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjf5h2eBnI4cli0SR2hX1sFvseitZxIqwB14Ndlj1Zhh0CMPoSG6yA-MdLz1WkWGf7_T9hrA6IPuzVAlcEEaMg7c2abpg5FOJ2BNuH6qVzMEdmuRvZdqkCI_sHeMaofKkH5uhhp_t9hLcIo6IdwvLsQ2TwH_IqZIvB97HNy8LIZnyorECHW9cH3MIcHALY/w200-h200/Todd%20Mason.png" width="200" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Todd Mason.</td></tr></tbody></table>Todd Mason’s ethereal, one-movement <i>String Quartet No. 3</i> seems to have been composed precisely to be played in a monument to science, as a tribute to the heroes who undertake the work of encountering the unknown and expanding human knowledge. This might be a reflection of my own suggestibility. But to my ears, his quartet’s abstract, atonal sonics, its rapid shifts to rough bowing, harmonics, <i>pizzicato</i> then <i>legato</i> to start the piece, were the musical equivalent of telescope-captured images of stars being born alongside comets flaring through space. But these scratchy, abrupt sounds could also be sparks inside the brain; an idea’s rough birth.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">At first, the abstract, atonal effects seemed out of character for Mason, who can be counted on to bend and stretch tonality, but seldom break it. As it unfolded, his plan became clearer as the music cycled through moments of chaos followed by a fragile sense of order before breaking apart again—a metaphor not just for science but all creativity, with an underlying, poignant question: “<i>Is order just an illusion?</i>” Mason set up interesting contrasts between the two violin parts, with Gilner handling a series of virtuosic, almost frenzied statements, only to be answered sorrowfully and emotively by Kastner. The array of string sounds and varying dynamics Mason asked Zelter to perform also served as a kind of acoustical test for Mount Wilson, which the building passed without difficulty.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">Puccini’s <i>Crisantemi</i> (1890) was next. Do opera fans know what beautiful chamber music their icon wrote? You can find what little there is on streaming services, and it’s worth the hunt. This piece, whose title translates to "Chrysanthemums," was said to be composed in one night, and captured the composer’s grief over the death of his friend, the Duke of Aosta, who ruled for three years as King Amadeo I of Spain and was part of the Italian royal dynasty known as the House of Savoy. It’s unclear why Puccini loved the Duke so much. A quick review of his bio suggests he was not especially worthy of the depths of emotion evoked in this brief composition. But love is love, right? Plus the Duke was very wealthy.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiw5fdz41xjduDGEsDwHy6mj4JCfq26TVRcelGtJmsHx_NrpDKN5v-QxWAn52PFelP-El6CCnDTG-IvDpEJjjI5E4DjcElN30UFfbZ9Kuyc1fVsZThylSk7bDBzERAbjbfqCPkz0G-nrNObcifoviWjGc4O1mDsKLjgJztZASUiEOCjyLGR0G3K9oTl3Xo/s509/Puccini%20c%201890.png" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="509" data-original-width="479" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiw5fdz41xjduDGEsDwHy6mj4JCfq26TVRcelGtJmsHx_NrpDKN5v-QxWAn52PFelP-El6CCnDTG-IvDpEJjjI5E4DjcElN30UFfbZ9Kuyc1fVsZThylSk7bDBzERAbjbfqCPkz0G-nrNObcifoviWjGc4O1mDsKLjgJztZASUiEOCjyLGR0G3K9oTl3Xo/w188-h200/Puccini%20c%201890.png" width="188" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Giacomo Puccini, c.1890.</td></tr></tbody></table>The connectedness of the Zelter Quartet was especially on display in this piece. The experience was like being guided by them through a dark night to a place of peace and perspective: a timeless journey, that only lasted five mesmerizing minutes.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">Neither the Puccini nor Mason pieces conformed with the usual expectations for a string quartet concert. Hearing them back to back at the beginning of the concert had the effect of expanding our awareness of what the quartet form could be, which proved to be the perfect set-up for Zelter’s performance of Mendelssohn’s <i>String Quartet No. 2 in A minor</i> (1827). It’s an extraordinary composition, and not just because he was only 18 when he wrote it. While it largely adheres to the classical string quartet structure, by the time the Zelter Quartet got to it, we in the audience were ready to hear it without too much regard for stereotypes.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">When you’re young, certain years take on added drama because of a confluence of new experiences that can both inspire and overwhelm the developing mind. For the young Felix Mendelssohn, 1827 apparently was such a year, when two events affected him deeply. First, he fell in love with someone whose name is lost to history, but who inspired him to write a song entitled <i>Frage</i>, with a lyric that began:
“<i>Is it true that you always wait for me there in the leafy path by the grape arbor and ask the moonlight and the little stars about me?</i>"</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXeafLy6vpXiCQLm3TbnD5k8tscTs_hER6IdoHXjvnRAp-m0XPZzL5KULEPq9nSf-9BJvu9MY61bySQKtDxRaYJ7sqjcGAJH7iw2qPOK3170qhMmQSeUJJn0S1CaAdtE8hDQMcu25xS4jZtCPimfmPOU4XIVAd1700cKkXOnUoDN46SoEWRNe32hTtI70/s1024/Beethoven%20nears%20the%20end,%20by%20Oswald%20Charles%20Barret.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="786" data-original-width="1024" height="154" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXeafLy6vpXiCQLm3TbnD5k8tscTs_hER6IdoHXjvnRAp-m0XPZzL5KULEPq9nSf-9BJvu9MY61bySQKtDxRaYJ7sqjcGAJH7iw2qPOK3170qhMmQSeUJJn0S1CaAdtE8hDQMcu25xS4jZtCPimfmPOU4XIVAd1700cKkXOnUoDN46SoEWRNe32hTtI70/w200-h154/Beethoven%20nears%20the%20end,%20by%20Oswald%20Charles%20Barret.jpg" width="200" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"Beethoven nears the end."<br /></td></tr></tbody></table>At the same time, Mendelssohn also fell in love with the newly published last five quartets by Ludwig Van Beethoven, who had just died. Composed as his health was failing, they are among his most complex, emotionally challenging, and profound compositions, as well as controversial for contemporary <i>aficionados</i> affronted by their sheer daring and seeming abandonment of tried-and-tested procedures. When I listen to them, I find myself sometimes straining to feel what Beethoven is feeling, and it is just out of reach. But somehow teen-aged, love-struck Felix found keys to expressing his youthful angst and desires by writing sounds inspired by Beethoven’s obsessive, brooding final statements on fate.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqZ-9oz7YCiIlzRdF0HVbHDTDgkHai6J5MvBxWGVYRdNfKYPrtzmfQYJD0N5HzCVBMK3vmsJEvAKCwj7GbTCJBbOO496mXX34fYy0rWaAItDCacSbaoZdZr-dCuClTcXI1VfJH-LkwynNf0yjF-FVkaqa_yr0nIoJyhYIwM8VHUgzAImdK73zuVvtoRhw/s800/Mendelssohn%20pencil%20drawing%20by%20Eduard%20Bendemann_1833.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="800" data-original-width="652" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqZ-9oz7YCiIlzRdF0HVbHDTDgkHai6J5MvBxWGVYRdNfKYPrtzmfQYJD0N5HzCVBMK3vmsJEvAKCwj7GbTCJBbOO496mXX34fYy0rWaAItDCacSbaoZdZr-dCuClTcXI1VfJH-LkwynNf0yjF-FVkaqa_yr0nIoJyhYIwM8VHUgzAImdK73zuVvtoRhw/s320/Mendelssohn%20pencil%20drawing%20by%20Eduard%20Bendemann_1833.jpg" width="261" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Felix Mendelssohn.</td></tr></tbody></table>The Zelter Quartet’s approach conveyed compassion and understanding of the deep feelings young Mendelssohn captures. They embraced the full range of his keen emotions in their playing, from the agitation and yearning of the first two movements through the loose-limbed recollections of joy that emerge surprisingly in the third movement, to the melodrama and intensity of the final movement. For those of us who have raised or lived around precocious adolescents, this mix of naïve feeling and heady complexity seems familiar; but not so easy to capture as evocatively as Mendelsohn does, in a piece of music for the ages.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">Each of the quartet members were given moments to display their individual tone, but what excited me most is what they created together, in twos, threes and fours; in rounds and ensembles and passages charged with dance rhythms; and in solemn moments of regret and loss. They gave us an emotion-filled concert, a deeply satisfying artistic journey that was enhanced by the Mount Wilson dome, and transcended it.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">In his opening speech, Mount Wilson Trustee Dan Kohne hoped to encourage the audience to be judicious with their camera-phones. It was tempting to try to capture the experience, the unusual visuals accompanied by beautiful music, but it could be distracting and ultimately would be futile. These magical moments with the Zelter Quartet defy the virtual world. “<i>Be here now,</i>” Kohne said, “<i>for these particular wavelengths of sound that will never happen again</i>.” Talk about luck.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEic_MTTY4-TwyVt18u6_iATvkUAfE9vGVAiousj1Ko893mXMlPVy6NG4T-0ARGkvrzcB0SDLueSoWIBoDXhOP18PAuhRt63qdDlml5JZzu6UZdZWDGLGtbVHpqZVEEplXAOW_5SFkzm4Jb6Xf_vMv6oVB5eT-wKv6nWZnN-U9g8HVpb_-vN4He_PlOFTPw/s3749/Z4.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2767" data-original-width="3749" height="295" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEic_MTTY4-TwyVt18u6_iATvkUAfE9vGVAiousj1Ko893mXMlPVy6NG4T-0ARGkvrzcB0SDLueSoWIBoDXhOP18PAuhRt63qdDlml5JZzu6UZdZWDGLGtbVHpqZVEEplXAOW_5SFkzm4Jb6Xf_vMv6oVB5eT-wKv6nWZnN-U9g8HVpb_-vN4He_PlOFTPw/w400-h295/Z4.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><br /><div style="text-align: center;">---ooo---</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">100-Inch Telescope Dome, Mount Wlson Observatory, Sunday August 13 2023, <br />3 p.m. and 5 p.m.</div><div style="text-align: left;">Images: The performance: Todd Mason; Beethoven: Oswald Charles Barrett, for <i>The Oxford Companion to Music</i>; Puccini and Mendelssohn: Wikimedia Commons.</div>David J Brownhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08224977724583670873noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9194809435670809838.post-38435740907887574792023-08-13T14:32:00.000-07:002023-08-13T14:32:21.151-07:00High Tech Meets Myth in Seattle Opera Rheingold<p> </p><p><span style="background-color: white; caret-color: rgb(51, 51, 51); color: #333333; font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 15.08px;"><br /></span></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSmH-samNaGzMvld5AFjUoWqb85K6wTLLAldbhSzL6ZVdv3gu09Cbwn0_ZZVbS3IHCEGmxpztmENNIMsmBxcIsmKAJbkhShZ5BnqNCZtoat1wpUdR4krHZZQIfedRMYFE4D2YDiC_3VyCp9H4M8LidpLONihmoo0hIssZ-7SeIhk0eVVQRaJprXmA0n_Q/s3072/Cast.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1638" data-original-width="2458" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSmH-samNaGzMvld5AFjUoWqb85K6wTLLAldbhSzL6ZVdv3gu09Cbwn0_ZZVbS3IHCEGmxpztmENNIMsmBxcIsmKAJbkhShZ5BnqNCZtoat1wpUdR4krHZZQIfedRMYFE4D2YDiC_3VyCp9H4M8LidpLONihmoo0hIssZ-7SeIhk0eVVQRaJprXmA0n_Q/w400-h266/Cast.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br /><span style="background-color: white; caret-color: rgb(51, 51, 51); color: #333333; font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 15.08px;"><br /></span><p></p><p><span style="background-color: white; caret-color: rgb(51, 51, 51); color: #333333; font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 15.08px;">REVIEW: </span><span style="caret-color: rgb(51, 51, 51); color: #333333; font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 15.08px;">Seattle Opera</span></p><div style="caret-color: rgb(51, 51, 51); color: #333333; font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 15.08px;">McCaw Hall, Seattle<br /><div><div><br /></div><div>ERICA MINER</div></div><div><br /></div></div>
Opera fans in Seattle have double cause for celebration this season. For the first time since 2013, Seattle Opera is presenting <i>Das Rheingold</i>, the first of Wagner’s epic <i>Ring</i> operas, on the stage of McCaw Hall, as the initial production of its 60th anniversary season. To her credit, General Director Christina Scheppelmann deemed Wagner an important part of the festive year.<div><br /></div><div>Opening night of this grand occasion delivered on its promise of excitement. With inventive high-tech staging and a number of company debuts, including distinguished singer of worldwide reputation Denyce Graves, as well as the return of such favorites as Greer Grimsley and Seattle Symphony Conductor Emeritus Ludovic Morlot, the production was a winner. The large cast was the undisputed star of the show: consistently strong and, as SO scholar in residence Dr. Naomi André has pointed out, standing out for its diversity by including many people of color.</div><div><br /></div><div><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTi-Ujq0AS0nUB6eOlqyG1uHLNuFtgpBcjIAaYBpaZ43B9Ae4n4hkl-7Vy88Ss7dqhgDkztcXaqriCXsiqUy-T-cQ9MutZmPjf8qBqwCd928XBOhl7lntGnQAAe3j05baWtQUC8ewXO5bGaHnWzlQzHpf35HxeuL3fK9atX9WRl_7FXCYFOQxKrUP2GVc/s6819/Greer.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4548" data-original-width="6819" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTi-Ujq0AS0nUB6eOlqyG1uHLNuFtgpBcjIAaYBpaZ43B9Ae4n4hkl-7Vy88Ss7dqhgDkztcXaqriCXsiqUy-T-cQ9MutZmPjf8qBqwCd928XBOhl7lntGnQAAe3j05baWtQUC8ewXO5bGaHnWzlQzHpf35HxeuL3fK9atX9WRl_7FXCYFOQxKrUP2GVc/s320/Greer.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Greer Grimsley<br />Philip Newton<br /><br /></td></tr></tbody></table></div><div>Bass-baritone legend Greer Grimsley, the equivalent of an operatic rock star both around the world and in the city of Seattle, and synonymous with the role of Wotan, looked and sounded better than ever. With his commanding presence and vocal power, he ruled over Valhalla with an iron fist—despite the efforts of his Fricka, Melody Wilson, to take the wind out of his sails. In this all-important divine duo, Wilson stood up to Grimsley, performing with security. But for the most part Grimsley carried the show, projecting a vocal and dramatic strength that built steadily to the end.</div><div><br /></div><div>Katie Van Kooten (Freia) and Peixin Chen (Fasolt) joined Denyce Graves (Erda) in making their debuts.
Graves has had a long, illustrious career on every prominent stage on the planet, and her experience showed in her authoritative presence in this production. Her commanding performance as the prescient earth goddess made Wotan’s awed reaction all the more convincing.</div><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPdcXBy5zgB2DmcKXcZVU2oWC-0OcxbhQ0Ayy6-fibeD2F1LDMAeAU37EjHgDyIWjLl_S1R_5ZBkEt23WSQ0n_pViOs6ug2eOl5tnVMwQD3xEktC1YnsRfHCPdOoyxE5MYwNYddJuBc7sRfJ9C8KBabo0ckZUuck5DVhWui8WPRK9DUmehC28Sfm1gtEY/s4739/Graves.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4739" data-original-width="3161" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPdcXBy5zgB2DmcKXcZVU2oWC-0OcxbhQ0Ayy6-fibeD2F1LDMAeAU37EjHgDyIWjLl_S1R_5ZBkEt23WSQ0n_pViOs6ug2eOl5tnVMwQD3xEktC1YnsRfHCPdOoyxE5MYwNYddJuBc7sRfJ9C8KBabo0ckZUuck5DVhWui8WPRK9DUmehC28Sfm1gtEY/w133-h200/Graves.jpg" width="133" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Denyce Graves<br />Philip Newton<br /><br /></td></tr></tbody></table><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7v_JnVxtI6Lb9LXkkW-Nt8A_s6qWXkpp33CQvJKWFw4uSopdOzvT719wys3xyVhrGC01zH2bo1VqsG5wQUl1axyj8boZDGOugr2XuZCZM8tfYzaH2G1fTAQjKEYDhuPCWkxBS4e4rMKPluPkfbJrVPpB5V0Rxlvu6In2tOdUc2rRrhX6zxojGBqy-iHI/s3998/Giants.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2666" data-original-width="3998" height="133" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7v_JnVxtI6Lb9LXkkW-Nt8A_s6qWXkpp33CQvJKWFw4uSopdOzvT719wys3xyVhrGC01zH2bo1VqsG5wQUl1axyj8boZDGOugr2XuZCZM8tfYzaH2G1fTAQjKEYDhuPCWkxBS4e4rMKPluPkfbJrVPpB5V0Rxlvu6In2tOdUc2rRrhX6zxojGBqy-iHI/w200-h133/Giants.jpg" width="200" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="text-align: left;">Peixin Chen, Kenneth Kellogg<br />Philip Newton</span></td></tr></tbody></table><div><br /></div><div>Chen made a robust impression with his giant-like presence, countering his violent brother Fafner, Kenneth Kellogg in his role debut. Both had rich, deep voices that played off each other, and both succeeded in dominating the action when onstage, especially on the neon-lit platform that grabbed attention as it moved up and down. Van Kooten’s tones were clear and golden, appropriate for the innocent Freia. Viktor Antipenko sounded appropriately heroic as Freia’s protective brother Froh.</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>Returning artists Frederick Ballentine, Michael Mayes, and Martin Bakari, gave impressive performances. Ballentine’s Loge stood out, not only for his wily characterization of Wagner’s ultimate, maddening trickster, but for his unique ability to sound like a true lyrical tenor in what is purely a character role. Mayes was an outstanding Alberich: violent, nasty, terrifying and powerful, both vocally and dramatically.
</div><div><br /></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQkZD5VEuWA3zoK9zHi4nBbrdN2qCvi92KE8QvBpBebv-h5Cy6KnDAsOOU4Ih-naMZaQoGAXOYiYKVo4pyveL0Vp50Ud3eFS1q_mYvDjFtNyXfqrKwuWNRFc_aET3JMmWw0OY0lHi1wogVTU7c0QyI1vXbvFR3hsLdNgi6HTINCJtPc6e25gC9EH-0TEU/s6102/alberich%202%20martini.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4070" data-original-width="6102" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQkZD5VEuWA3zoK9zHi4nBbrdN2qCvi92KE8QvBpBebv-h5Cy6KnDAsOOU4Ih-naMZaQoGAXOYiYKVo4pyveL0Vp50Ud3eFS1q_mYvDjFtNyXfqrKwuWNRFc_aET3JMmWw0OY0lHi1wogVTU7c0QyI1vXbvFR3hsLdNgi6HTINCJtPc6e25gC9EH-0TEU/s320/alberich%202%20martini.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Michael Mayes<br />Sunny Martini</td></tr></tbody></table><div>Bakari made the most of the relatively small but pivotal role of Mime, cowering from his vicious brother, but adding subtle hints of his shrewd ability to fend for himself. He sang with appropriately Mime-like tones, never wavering, and piquing one’s curiosity as to his potential rendering of the character in the third <i>Ring</i> opera, <i>Siegfried</i>.</div><div><br /></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-K9gnuk_RLCZVfDQfaiJCgf014jaTxGjMmb7ZDF1JMHU-F-LiBkIUD_VITIoE-vCKooeiczy0vw-8pfXQW4hKCFkmOKqxpCHYERELaurNFrdDFt2g_FEbcPKXNfcoOca6zRo0H1C2ivAwhEBFmxyYNNbwJN0lNXh5MmL76Q0s-ARP50Kaxms8LUv_i0g/s3025/Loge%20Mime.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2017" data-original-width="3025" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-K9gnuk_RLCZVfDQfaiJCgf014jaTxGjMmb7ZDF1JMHU-F-LiBkIUD_VITIoE-vCKooeiczy0vw-8pfXQW4hKCFkmOKqxpCHYERELaurNFrdDFt2g_FEbcPKXNfcoOca6zRo0H1C2ivAwhEBFmxyYNNbwJN0lNXh5MmL76Q0s-ARP50Kaxms8LUv_i0g/s320/Loge%20Mime.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Frederick Ballentine, Martin Bakari<br />Philip Newton</td></tr></tbody></table><div><br /></div><div>Michael Chioldi, who gave a lasting impression as Germont in the company’s recent <i>La Traviata</i>, made his role debut as Donner. Chioldi made the most of the relatively small role, relishing every note and heightening the characterization, building steadily toward his moment of glory in his finale-launching thunder bolt aria, which was captivating and exquisitely done.</div><div><br /></div><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfixS7rALkNNSrBdaxLGb9agsfbCZcIVYzg_TB91URLkbfJcEktYisv00gv1ZX3oGZ7zpwdoAtAYO35KE6z4tqB_YiJ134Y5nL8Ep2l1kajZVruPbA3DSoZUEf0UNfDaF2S0Rh6codD4PB_j-O8U92VnaEQ_QztoP6p7XEpPmGaG3DWUWG3Ym8Vhx2KoQ/s6932/arkipenko,%20chioldi%20sunnymartini_09422.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4624" data-original-width="6932" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfixS7rALkNNSrBdaxLGb9agsfbCZcIVYzg_TB91URLkbfJcEktYisv00gv1ZX3oGZ7zpwdoAtAYO35KE6z4tqB_YiJ134Y5nL8Ep2l1kajZVruPbA3DSoZUEf0UNfDaF2S0Rh6codD4PB_j-O8U92VnaEQ_QztoP6p7XEpPmGaG3DWUWG3Ym8Vhx2KoQ/s320/arkipenko,%20chioldi%20sunnymartini_09422.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Viktor Arkipenko, Michael Chiolid<br />Sunny Martini</td></tr></tbody></table><div>Sarah Larsen (Flosshilde) and Shelly Traverse (Wellgunde) in their role debuts as the first two Rhinemaidens, were joined by Jacqueline Piccolino as Woglinde. Together and separately, they sounded as lovely as three voices could be. High notes were strong and crystal clear, and harmonies resounded beautifully throughout the house. Their playfulness together in the river was hugely appealing.</div><div><br /></div><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhk7QwOTI_O9Mw4ojvkFR5MYq2QZLyuB6WyG-l-mN7iIJmxZKT6so8f9-IdmNDsMMF4wkK-viCSHr6W--tFwpHPtLf9cQsRDgni9xmB0q_m-djTaPynCKUVgEBmkoisNaNLhNvsppmZ9yJW0gLShOhPM_0UhIFPqzF2SKdCIUGIzIMnELy1dmmwYgW5RU8/s3889/3%20maidens.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2593" data-original-width="3889" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhk7QwOTI_O9Mw4ojvkFR5MYq2QZLyuB6WyG-l-mN7iIJmxZKT6so8f9-IdmNDsMMF4wkK-viCSHr6W--tFwpHPtLf9cQsRDgni9xmB0q_m-djTaPynCKUVgEBmkoisNaNLhNvsppmZ9yJW0gLShOhPM_0UhIFPqzF2SKdCIUGIzIMnELy1dmmwYgW5RU8/s320/3%20maidens.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Jacqueline Piccolino, Sarah Larsen, Shelly Traverse<br />Philip Newton</td></tr></tbody></table><div><br /></div><div>Stage director Brian Staufenbiel brought his 2016 Minnesota Opera production to the SO stage. Visually spectacular and undeniably thought-provoking, the staging combined the perspectives of Wagner’s ancient mythical context with a modern technological spin. Most singular was the placement of the orchestra onstage, turning the orchestra pit into an extended stage and using the pit as a split-level representation of the Rhine River and Nibelheim. The integration of the orchestra into the stage action as an active player in the drama is an interesting concept. It worked at times, and it’s always fascinating to watch the ensemble work their magic in Wagner’s ingenious score. Granted, a Wagnerian-sized orchestra will not fit into all orchestra pits. But on some level the presence of the orchestra onstage reminded one of the reasons why the composer built his own opera house with a pit that was covered over so as not to distract the audience from the all-important drama unfolding onstage.</div><div><br /></div><div>Morlot is no stranger to Wagner, having helmed the company’s 2021outdoor non-staged <i>Welcome Back Concert: Die Walküre</i>. Fulfilling the demands of Wagner’s <i>Gesamtkunstwerk</i> concept, combining music with drama and integrating them as a perfect whole, is no walk in the park. Morlot managed not only to hold everything together impeccably, but he also showed an intense understanding of what the composer-conductor had in mind. As always, Morlot’s conducting was fluid, connecting phrase to phrase as if to reflect the everlasting flow of the Rhine River and the cyclical nature of the work. The orchestra responded as one instrument, organ-like in its wash of sound.</div><div><br /></div><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNY-53rASN_AQfLrTpAvXk43Mw-ZlJosJttB_ay_sIbhWN_sjpedmtREyN8Am9wcy6WapDakw9QAEV9qgebSZXYAW9G5rCQK4TPReE_dVo3FheTluiaE5l-Ko1l9k0aRR22WsYNTqMcTxHGpTD-A_Oe_IgeoOhYVAs2reOo1r_q844SpTMJKPiR_TsN6s/s2968/Wotan%20orch.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1979" data-original-width="2968" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNY-53rASN_AQfLrTpAvXk43Mw-ZlJosJttB_ay_sIbhWN_sjpedmtREyN8Am9wcy6WapDakw9QAEV9qgebSZXYAW9G5rCQK4TPReE_dVo3FheTluiaE5l-Ko1l9k0aRR22WsYNTqMcTxHGpTD-A_Oe_IgeoOhYVAs2reOo1r_q844SpTMJKPiR_TsN6s/s320/Wotan%20orch.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Philip Newton</td></tr></tbody></table><div>The creative team included three Seattle Opera debuts. David Murakami’s projections balanced exquisitely with Mextly Couzin’s lighting, both of which served to maximize the dramatic upheaval as it played out. Incandescent projections superimposed on the performers added to the overall impression of tech meeting traditional mythology. At times the lighting verged on brilliant, as each scene built toward the combination of light and projection in the earth tones of Erda’s spectacular entrance toward the end, which filled the entire house with eye-popping splendor. The Rainbow Bridge symbolizing the flow of the Rhine River, combined with the dazzling light that led the way to the gods’ entrance into Valhalla, made a striking last impression.</div><div><br /></div><div>Each character looked his or her best in Mathew LeFebvre’s stunning costumes, from Wotan’s blindingly golden accoutrements to Erda’s tree branches growing from her head. The space-age headgear for the two giants, which could have seemed over the top, worked wonderfully. Even the props, from the golden helmet to the eponymous ring, stood out splendidly.</div><div><br /></div><div>The outstanding cast and provocative production, merged with Wagner’s indisputably monumental music and drama, made this <i>Rheingold</i> a <i>de rigueur</i> happening well worth experiencing, and hopefully an entrée into subsequent <i>Ring</i> operas for the company. </div><div><br /></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjO_OcLDFbvLUgL7Bb6vmbo05gc9nXxTCWE3Om8GM0B08bUswDC6ooHzVXdU7XcQJBOWvb4ONgqVyFUHK0zYaFsWTOfoa-mbtFZSLX7HtHT93ozy6SOoItGSyZA2AXK3Cc38zbvM2rKFwPnAqs5r_BdvC-izzUOhm2kleYoOpOpAUCHzDVM2nCm3kt-0Zo/s3922/gods%20giants.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2614" data-original-width="3922" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjO_OcLDFbvLUgL7Bb6vmbo05gc9nXxTCWE3Om8GM0B08bUswDC6ooHzVXdU7XcQJBOWvb4ONgqVyFUHK0zYaFsWTOfoa-mbtFZSLX7HtHT93ozy6SOoItGSyZA2AXK3Cc38zbvM2rKFwPnAqs5r_BdvC-izzUOhm2kleYoOpOpAUCHzDVM2nCm3kt-0Zo/w400-h266/gods%20giants.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Philip Newton</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><div><br /><div><br /></div><div>Photo credits: Philip Newton, Sunny Martini </div><div><a href="https://www.seattleopera.org/performances-events/das-rheingold/" target="_blank">Ticket information</a>: https://www.seattleopera.org/performances-events/das-rheingold/
</div><div><br /></div><div><div style="caret-color: rgb(51, 51, 51); color: #333333; font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 15.08px; text-align: center;"> ---ooo--- </div><div style="caret-color: rgb(51, 51, 51); color: #333333; font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 15.08px;"><br /></div><div style="caret-color: rgb(51, 51, 51); color: #333333; font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 15.08px;"> <i>Erica can be reached at: eminer5472@gmail.com</i></div><br class="Apple-interchange-newline" /></div></div>Erica Minerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15981212553256317650noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9194809435670809838.post-13242790767177115902023-08-11T20:47:00.215-07:002023-09-23T14:04:57.678-07:00Santa Fe Opera 2023: "Pelléas" and the "Dutchman"<div><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEivGF-XCKKNQWoYo4xcz_AgnU2TAer4QSJUFOHhA6mOc6wsrKwegG5nHLGITWLqa425gVAH_Po2jYL8JW6hjgMWBnyJh6C-xjxFXulxzfIABjSIOgWn6AioovBpYUJuxLrzhvv-i5fAPwCJxyxwdGD4TZ_idd7DJFqRaxW_UfAreCIrYk4dFrDzbIPXy90/s4529/9-Pelleas-OD-2-c-Curtis-Brown-.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3195" data-original-width="4529" height="367" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEivGF-XCKKNQWoYo4xcz_AgnU2TAer4QSJUFOHhA6mOc6wsrKwegG5nHLGITWLqa425gVAH_Po2jYL8JW6hjgMWBnyJh6C-xjxFXulxzfIABjSIOgWn6AioovBpYUJuxLrzhvv-i5fAPwCJxyxwdGD4TZ_idd7DJFqRaxW_UfAreCIrYk4dFrDzbIPXy90/w640-h452/9-Pelleas-OD-2-c-Curtis-Brown-.jpg" width="520" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Huw Montague Rendall and Samantha Hankey as Pelléas and Mélisande in Santa Fe Opera's production of Debussy's only completed opera.</td></tr></tbody></table><b><br /></b></div><div><b>RODNEY PUNT</b></div><div><b><br /></b></div><div><b>Introduction</b></div><div><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEheqo_L3TotNMFyj8mkWeUw1MB2K8-ETRO8urw56bXY2G89I_lFOqMttZsKI85LTutnNyK8hHwapKkKpa32FiVZxjCsIdms2jsseG4uWdNufTSQ3rSkuW20i5PgtSTPpehrvuExgr47uVnhGMQDIiZ4y-CDMkiVkvaJeH90H5domjSokveirYPiJhkgv7M/s476/Wagner-1840-42.png" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="476" data-original-width="389" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEheqo_L3TotNMFyj8mkWeUw1MB2K8-ETRO8urw56bXY2G89I_lFOqMttZsKI85LTutnNyK8hHwapKkKpa32FiVZxjCsIdms2jsseG4uWdNufTSQ3rSkuW20i5PgtSTPpehrvuExgr47uVnhGMQDIiZ4y-CDMkiVkvaJeH90H5domjSokveirYPiJhkgv7M/w164-h200/Wagner-1840-42.png" width="164" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Wagner, 1840-1842.</td></tr></tbody></table>Richard Wagner’s early Romantic opera, <i>Der Fliegende Holländer WWV 63</i>, written in 1840-41, has a ship captain fated to sail the seas until he is released from his eternal wandering by a faithful woman. With a stormy northern climate as its backdrop, Wagner created this foreboding work in primary musical colors. The journey from his Wagnerian darkness to Debussy’s delicate <i>Pelléas et Mélisande L 93, </i>composed between 1893 and 1898, is a transition of qualities, from heavy and dark to light and lighter. Debussy’s ethereal work seems infused with touch-me-not action, its soft music drawn at times in barely discernible pastels.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5G3CQRF0-bGyIWg47400XNqLVwatR9e8FG0gs7qaEWjNxHM5gAnJbC2kKfUG2j3cy97ydjmtAZXUmUf47BhNhFHoAIGgQ59ylOCrVFieGPI953gClyjcc3_KyIdyXQHUvuWXQduzyocQfyBiy_rQCYNijh7H1M-Hwr6FuljRJnhOnU6lERC-rv6qIIxI/s523/Debussy%20Getty%20Images%20.png" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="523" data-original-width="375" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5G3CQRF0-bGyIWg47400XNqLVwatR9e8FG0gs7qaEWjNxHM5gAnJbC2kKfUG2j3cy97ydjmtAZXUmUf47BhNhFHoAIGgQ59ylOCrVFieGPI953gClyjcc3_KyIdyXQHUvuWXQduzyocQfyBiy_rQCYNijh7H1M-Hwr6FuljRJnhOnU6lERC-rv6qIIxI/w143-h200/Debussy%20Getty%20Images%20.png" width="143" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Claude Debussy.</td></tr></tbody></table>Performances of these two works at the Santa Fe Opera this summer, conducted respectively by Thomas Guggeis and Harry Bicket, suggested no obvious relationship between them. But there is an embedded developmental connection in their 60-year compositional timespan. Take a walk on successive Wagnerian operatic stepping-stones: <i>Tannhaüser</i>, <i>Lohengrin</i>, the tetralogy of <i>Der Ring des Nibelungen</i>, <i>Tristan und Isolde</i>, and reaching the last, <i>Parsifal</i>. Wagner is ready to hand over the reins to Debussy, who admired and learned from both <i>Tristan und Isolde</i> and <i>Parsifal</i> and expressed his debt in <i>Pelléas et Mélisande</i>.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">---ooo---</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="font-weight: bold; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhOZUPIx9s9iNDsXi9FADnkmthJCAocm-2bm1eV0QpUmxa6YoAH_CtpOUa9xjQXo2cedadmBxqKsfTEUChle6gNqizzANnb7eQpIq8baFixLEOOgm3q3OowUIflxS8bdCcTk0ygS8zxeZfqv9bZQiRfSdm4aAKLpSHISPwLSjEkhr2ZyFrejtuuXtH3jA/s3600/3-Dutchmann-OD1-Curtis-Brown-dusk.jpeg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2400" data-original-width="3600" height="346" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhOZUPIx9s9iNDsXi9FADnkmthJCAocm-2bm1eV0QpUmxa6YoAH_CtpOUa9xjQXo2cedadmBxqKsfTEUChle6gNqizzANnb7eQpIq8baFixLEOOgm3q3OowUIflxS8bdCcTk0ygS8zxeZfqv9bZQiRfSdm4aAKLpSHISPwLSjEkhr2ZyFrejtuuXtH3jA/w640-h426/3-Dutchmann-OD1-Curtis-Brown-dusk.jpeg" width="520" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-weight: normal;">Nicholas Brownlee as the Dutchman, silhouetted against the Crosby Theatre's open backdrop <br />of New Mexico hills at sunset.</span></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><b>Review of <i>Der Fliegende Holländer</i>, August 5</b></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">A Dutch sea captain is cursed to live forever, but allowed to come ashore once every seven years to look for a woman who will be faithful to him until death, which, with her steadfast pledge, will release his eternal curse, and let him die in peace. At sea, the Dutchman meets Norwegian Captain Daland, open to any means of gaining wealth, and whose best bargaining chip happens to be his unmarried daughter, Senta. She, in turn, has been avoiding her most ardent suiter, a local hunter boy named Erik, who is madly in love with her. The Dutchman gives his portrait to Daland who later gives it to his daughter, who is immediately taken with the Dutchman, at which point the end game of this work is set in motion.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSzhqiOi8kz3i9-9z09bl1G9K5UePyfYRfti1lYK-r4Jppd1lQBD9JADtXQfCkr5wDl2kOwv7HAb4AXCPem5HVwWS_k6i375eXsFEfjcYk2fyGHR9KzETptC-ruzZqXSj34-piVyP_P8TKnq83dxUrDuCSTM9BOIc1q3ZjJIJ47Lwk0-EOrNLAdlBSslA/s3600/4-Dutchmann-OD1-Curtis-Brown-crew.jpeg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2400" data-original-width="3600" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSzhqiOi8kz3i9-9z09bl1G9K5UePyfYRfti1lYK-r4Jppd1lQBD9JADtXQfCkr5wDl2kOwv7HAb4AXCPem5HVwWS_k6i375eXsFEfjcYk2fyGHR9KzETptC-ruzZqXSj34-piVyP_P8TKnq83dxUrDuCSTM9BOIc1q3ZjJIJ47Lwk0-EOrNLAdlBSslA/w400-h266/4-Dutchmann-OD1-Curtis-Brown-crew.jpeg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The men of Santa Fe Opera chorus at sea.</td></tr></tbody></table>Originally conceived as a short opera by Wagner, the final product, still short by Wagnerian standards, is fleshed out with a sailors’ chorus at sea and, as balance, a similar women’s spinning chorus in the port city. These two choral numbers provided the best opportunity this season to hear the phenomenal choral work of Santa Fe Opera’s young artists, by a good measure the fullest choral presentation of the five-opera season.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVqtWQRu_JM5PRvHt00i-GimAfdDdMwmMENN6BsjCS1R9qa1K3HOmVPIM-4j0Z6gpDTYj7uEOFAtQKh5kToUpkv2TZrMpJ7EODoJwNip6HK590sg2Lqvdfj-y6G3MHa2RayMOmOyLhTbM9iB1zf-hkzXm_j-O3x9EshuNG6Ddd1bqLaKm78MiuuPmDCEE/s2396/6-DUTCHMAN-OD2-c-Curtis-Brown%20Daland.jpeg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2396" data-original-width="1724" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVqtWQRu_JM5PRvHt00i-GimAfdDdMwmMENN6BsjCS1R9qa1K3HOmVPIM-4j0Z6gpDTYj7uEOFAtQKh5kToUpkv2TZrMpJ7EODoJwNip6HK590sg2Lqvdfj-y6G3MHa2RayMOmOyLhTbM9iB1zf-hkzXm_j-O3x9EshuNG6Ddd1bqLaKm78MiuuPmDCEE/w144-h200/6-DUTCHMAN-OD2-c-Curtis-Brown%20Daland.jpeg" width="144" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Daland (Morris Robinson).</td></tr></tbody></table>Bass-baritone Nicholas Brownlee’s voice filled the Crosby Theatre stage with the dark and foreboding prognostications of his Dutchman’s fate. In the past seven years, this Dutchman has amassed a king’s ransom of lucre with which to pay a dowry for the faithful wife he seeks to release him from his eternity at sea. Bass Morris Robinson’s Daland, in craven greed, grasps the opportunity to accept the Dutchman’s dowry for Senta. Their bargain scene was well choreographed, with Brownlee and Robinson on opposite sides of the stage giving ominous portent of their pact.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">Another townsman, the grief-stricken Erik (tenor Chad Shelton, replacing the originally scheduled Richard Trey Smagur), emotes genuine anger and panic at losing Senta, the village girl he had loved for so long. (A tenor’s loss at love is relatively rare, an operatic role reversal symbolic of the normal order of this story being out of whack.)</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVY4eTPF8NpYSUNVxptaPNFSNHFyq8JyhVRvsUjCT0Z6qp9S0KrV_DhpTBXdVCOvQdMZZp6zIzzAqimkWIwo6qA24g75ZXiDZ_9-1F0EPCGL4fHcL48q2RbjVeeyzhry6avpR8hbPkgB3qT4rVt8gIezCpFNcanLGGjKYhRcm3BATbPewq7sghRxZ7HqY/s5472/14-Dutchmann-OD1-Curtis-Brown-Senta,%20women's%20chorus.jpeg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3648" data-original-width="5472" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVY4eTPF8NpYSUNVxptaPNFSNHFyq8JyhVRvsUjCT0Z6qp9S0KrV_DhpTBXdVCOvQdMZZp6zIzzAqimkWIwo6qA24g75ZXiDZ_9-1F0EPCGL4fHcL48q2RbjVeeyzhry6avpR8hbPkgB3qT4rVt8gIezCpFNcanLGGjKYhRcm3BATbPewq7sghRxZ7HqY/w400-h266/14-Dutchmann-OD1-Curtis-Brown-Senta,%20women's%20chorus.jpeg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Senta (Elza van den Heever) with the women of Santa Fe Opera chorus.</td></tr></tbody></table>Soprano Elza van den Heever’s Senta, a good match vocally for Brownlee, has in some ways the most interesting stage treatment here. She is made up to look plain, almost butch, suggesting a possible twist on her own motivations to avoid the usual village female role of sewing contentedly for a lifetime at home. She may intuitively embrace the sacrifice of her own life to escape physical love inherent in her expected role as housewife... or may secretly be excited to trade the insignificance of sea village life for a larger good, something more important, that motivates the spontaneous jump off the cliff after the Dutchman has set sail.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">When he realizes that the Senta he has fallen in love with, and agreed to marry, must die as part of the curse on himself, the Dutchman has last-minute qualms and tries to escape again on his ship in order to save her life. But Senta, true to her promise, and perhaps to her secret pact with herself not to marry, still jumps off the local cliff, at last releasing the Dutchman to break the curse and himself die in peace and deliverance.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">---ooo---</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><b><br /></b></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="font-weight: bold; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilDaHs0clF0cJkMuohrXOMpf8yrzWorV0eQ9zylgEIJIbALlmgFnMMhWjyKEk-U1SLVD8YajSZji79aZdOrFjJlhy3yi3xEKidKSgcsG8cOM2Iu3Gbnbl0IjM-gxxZp63A1nPk2qLz81INT-pqjUIiVN6gIDNz-SOJKxlU1weNT67hDFw4WLZa9iHoWz8/s3600/26-Pelleas-OD-2-c-Curtis-Brown-.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2400" data-original-width="3600" height="346" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilDaHs0clF0cJkMuohrXOMpf8yrzWorV0eQ9zylgEIJIbALlmgFnMMhWjyKEk-U1SLVD8YajSZji79aZdOrFjJlhy3yi3xEKidKSgcsG8cOM2Iu3Gbnbl0IjM-gxxZp63A1nPk2qLz81INT-pqjUIiVN6gIDNz-SOJKxlU1weNT67hDFw4WLZa9iHoWz8/w640-h426/26-Pelleas-OD-2-c-Curtis-Brown-.jpg" width="520" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-weight: normal;">Netia Jones' production design for Debussy's <i>Pelléas et Mélisande</i></span></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><b>Review of <i>Pelléas et Mélisande</i>, August 3</b></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">As mentioned, Debussy’s innovative score owes a musical debt to the spiritual world of <i>Parsifal</i> and the love-triangle of <i>Tristan</i>, yet, in his search of another musical path, Debussy resisted the seductive influence to directly imitate Wagner’s style. This work looks to the Far East, notably Japan and Indonesia, for its coloration as well as a certain delicacy. The East’s pentatonic scales and gamelan hues—along with unusual instrumental combinations and the use of parallel triads, and unorthodox 7th and 9th chords—produced exotic, hothouse sounds that gave the composer an original musical voice perfectly suited to the play (and one that would go on to influence composers like Stravinsky and Ravel).</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDJhZvqOTUSIaXGOokdJHZHSlz_OMus-gvAhgk3_cWIOiAPJFa9FI8QssZf4rvlsv8ndOgopBoCtGXE5n88STjPsVUM3Eju4rZDdJcFqV3NNdj7UGpwFZjstz0jI6eGDztPMyQ0Ic3pg7vk1LL4QUJxS3osw2gg6-W7Q_ue26_rfkr2GrJGlfEpUgqo5M/s2397/1-PELLEAS-OD-1-c-Curtis-Brown%20Genevieve.jpeg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2397" data-original-width="1755" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDJhZvqOTUSIaXGOokdJHZHSlz_OMus-gvAhgk3_cWIOiAPJFa9FI8QssZf4rvlsv8ndOgopBoCtGXE5n88STjPsVUM3Eju4rZDdJcFqV3NNdj7UGpwFZjstz0jI6eGDztPMyQ0Ic3pg7vk1LL4QUJxS3osw2gg6-W7Q_ue26_rfkr2GrJGlfEpUgqo5M/w146-h200/1-PELLEAS-OD-1-c-Curtis-Brown%20Genevieve.jpeg" width="146" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Susan Graham as Geneviève<br />in the Santa Fe production.</td></tr></tbody></table>Debussy’s ethereal, indeterminate music, with Maeterlinck’s touch-me-not drama of the mind, has challenged stage directors for generations since the work’s 1902 Paris premiere. For Los Angeles audiences, the 1995 staging by Peter Sellars at LA Opera in the Chandler Pavilion tried to break the obscurantist mold by tailoring the drama to a modern setting of homeless lovers on a beachside in Malibu. Alas, the intriguing concept had them groping on a dim stage with fluorescent lights inconveniently shining in the audience’s eyes.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizUde7osryCagDGAB9BJk-wLtubWbzeFwcmfQiMcwYcnlhORe_j7VZCMexREU4WDyyIHiUZJmBWrpGg4YwTKhCGLp7Tazuecd6qRmBHgiazL4ovUGlxTUbgFWFOvVVSZY7SvPlA5CflBV1jrVAjt2OCNg4n5S7JKO0AglBVq4h3Nnak93f2c0iyMaYcg0/s2386/1-Pelleas-OD-2-c-Curtis-Brown-Golaud.jpeg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2386" data-original-width="1534" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizUde7osryCagDGAB9BJk-wLtubWbzeFwcmfQiMcwYcnlhORe_j7VZCMexREU4WDyyIHiUZJmBWrpGg4YwTKhCGLp7Tazuecd6qRmBHgiazL4ovUGlxTUbgFWFOvVVSZY7SvPlA5CflBV1jrVAjt2OCNg4n5S7JKO0AglBVq4h3Nnak93f2c0iyMaYcg0/s320/1-Pelleas-OD-2-c-Curtis-Brown-Golaud.jpeg" width="206" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Golaud (Zachary Nelson).</td></tr></tbody></table>Santa Fe Opera’s production avoided such extraneous statements. Stage director Netia Jones, also responsible for scenic designs, costumes, and projections, let the action tell the story and the music provide much of the inner tension. She avoided the kind of distracting high concept production that had Sellars smothering the pastel subtlety of this fragile work of Debussy, which needs to quietly work on an audience’s inner emotions.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfwx5Zyd1dTliMFv9EdNCOwVULjFYJned3rRe3CK_yOmRCyWGkwSHJW6v27A4iXItVbcQ8cXThObKDIAvwvCMmfC_ezwpWFAYIgITwcxsYrVeBhi3beScicXjs6ZVn_ypwrp4ZeRhQH7zyRktywaRV2sdnuxy9Pt3XvD9T0rwsADEDnDq0ZK97D9b8Wpk/s2288/11-PELLEAS-OD-1-c-Curtis-Brown%20Kai%20Edgar.jpeg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2288" data-original-width="1318" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfwx5Zyd1dTliMFv9EdNCOwVULjFYJned3rRe3CK_yOmRCyWGkwSHJW6v27A4iXItVbcQ8cXThObKDIAvwvCMmfC_ezwpWFAYIgITwcxsYrVeBhi3beScicXjs6ZVn_ypwrp4ZeRhQH7zyRktywaRV2sdnuxy9Pt3XvD9T0rwsADEDnDq0ZK97D9b8Wpk/w115-h200/11-PELLEAS-OD-1-c-Curtis-Brown%20Kai%20Edgar.jpeg" width="115" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Yniold (Kai Edgar).</td></tr></tbody></table>The protagonists forged an ideally strong and idiomatic team. In the tenor role of the fated Pelléas, the English lyric baritone Huw Montague Rendall sustained just the right ethereal French nuance in accent and stage manner. Samantha Hankey’s more open and generic soprano did not have quite the French nasality that would have made this pairing ideal, but she did convey Mélisande with a fatal purity that chimed with Debussy’s unchanging musical motif at her every entrance. Baritone Zachary Nelson’s increasingly unhinged Golaud added, step by step, to the inexorable fatalistic power of extracting jealous revenge.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">Seasoned mezzo-soprano Susan Graham provided a sympathetic and resonant Geneviève to soften the tragedy, along with Raymond Aceto’s Arkel, even as the two were powerless to stop the unfolding tragedy. In the role of the boy, Yniold, was the sweet Kai Edgar. The misuse of his character by Golaud to spy and report on a potential love scene is one of the more tragic moments in this work. Ben Brady’s Physician reinforced the role of helpless bystander to tragedy. All in all, this was a <i>Pelléas et Mélisande</i> that did not force the action, but let the story unfold naturally.
</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5fhis6koC86VNaGJi-i12oca05uueA3L8shpLbdCkXV47TZqm91VIlF-6UOhMUvLFH4eD-9a3PMKUpdiZOZ4SQHHMMYb_79Iz7LbuBOPP9FgjYPOINOEEzj2x45wUE0aS8B4Z9mYenMrRfLS0ZfvFcIEVX0pCgL7D2sbikFX2uqxo-1dk9A5sfcBWexM/s3600/20-Pelleas-OD-2-c-Curtis-Brown-.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2400" data-original-width="3600" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5fhis6koC86VNaGJi-i12oca05uueA3L8shpLbdCkXV47TZqm91VIlF-6UOhMUvLFH4eD-9a3PMKUpdiZOZ4SQHHMMYb_79Iz7LbuBOPP9FgjYPOINOEEzj2x45wUE0aS8B4Z9mYenMrRfLS0ZfvFcIEVX0pCgL7D2sbikFX2uqxo-1dk9A5sfcBWexM/w400-h266/20-Pelleas-OD-2-c-Curtis-Brown-.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The lovers about to meet their doom at the hands of Golaud.</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><div style="text-align: center;">---ooo---</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">Crosby Theatre, Santa Fe Opera, 301 Opera Drive, Santa Fe, NM, Thursday, August 3, and Saturday, August 5, 2023, 8:00 p.m.</div><div style="text-align: left;">Images: Wagner and Debussy: Wikimedia Commons; the productions: Curtis Brown.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div>David J Brownhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08224977724583670873noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9194809435670809838.post-65231254959331231012023-08-09T15:32:00.259-07:002023-09-23T13:54:14.214-07:00Santa Fe Opera 2023: "Orfeo" and "Rusalka"<br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEieo53aLFDJhH_3Snq-rRuRgAkmZfscWtt_iyUydlIYLTStZ7KunkF5uhUntoZOFn2_pmH-JGz2biIjdKeZXdvxcprO1ls6xBa9Bd5DTeHCa7m6aa_pTvEQ2ujYbK4MaEhVP_IJAwmqI1TXB75idvHSIVZ448_JfbqPmLy5vGFS1llfAHtdQeKKXMVsMEs/s3600/20-ORFEO-OD1-Curtis-Brown-.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2400" data-original-width="3600" height="346" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEieo53aLFDJhH_3Snq-rRuRgAkmZfscWtt_iyUydlIYLTStZ7KunkF5uhUntoZOFn2_pmH-JGz2biIjdKeZXdvxcprO1ls6xBa9Bd5DTeHCa7m6aa_pTvEQ2ujYbK4MaEhVP_IJAwmqI1TXB75idvHSIVZ448_JfbqPmLy5vGFS1llfAHtdQeKKXMVsMEs/w640-h426/20-ORFEO-OD1-Curtis-Brown-.jpg" width="520" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Santa Fe Opera chorus cavorting on and around the grassy hill set for Act II of <br />Monteverdi's <i>Orfeo</i>.</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><div><b>RODNEY PUNT</b></div><div><br /></div><div><b>Introduction</b><div><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtospru7eg9qkxDutgv3Zw4MJ20Hk4lZB3BGYTsbBy7Pm7X9Odh11fPSeQhcD4aDTbWLAEM1raHF_E5IJl67Lc8E9m22LVjA53bC8HLRa_3rXVcaoo7CJ3lA3F_MPxR06mYe220Yo8VG-R1shRIfoi3oTp0YslnPd2jH-Pw0TpRrfPf1TUx4Hfsy6sdpU/s1042/Monteverdi(c.1630)%20cropped.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1042" data-original-width="885" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtospru7eg9qkxDutgv3Zw4MJ20Hk4lZB3BGYTsbBy7Pm7X9Odh11fPSeQhcD4aDTbWLAEM1raHF_E5IJl67Lc8E9m22LVjA53bC8HLRa_3rXVcaoo7CJ3lA3F_MPxR06mYe220Yo8VG-R1shRIfoi3oTp0YslnPd2jH-Pw0TpRrfPf1TUx4Hfsy6sdpU/w170-h200/Monteverdi(c.1630)%20cropped.jpg" width="170" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Monteverdi, <i>c</i>.1630.</td></tr></tbody></table>Discontent with one’s lot may be the mother of personal reinvention, but the pursuit of human happiness can also set off a struggle with the rules of those who rule the heavens. The gods of mythology don’t cotton to humans breaking the boundaries they have set. Mythological gods “up there” are, in fact, stand-ins for natural and societal boundaries. Two operas this Santa Fe Opera season work on an attempt to break boundaries, Claudio Monteverdi’s <i>Orfeo</i> and Antonín Dvořák’s <i>Rusalka</i>.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYmvCbFGxgW6dubN4PZxDU3uKvWFXDKwyunaDLIkGMgaWCKynWWopvRzgVDh-bTgFALODZaedlwJdb1dxm2L5k7DWbfyYt3ReDWO6UjRkCd4RzObknfzIpoA_b8EKXzXOgR3xdzrC8y5hNCTOz5Emj1MCINuoM2XBNJlV0Ut-JPjFN33wLUChmpZT1rJM/s1118/Dvorak%201901%20cropped.jpg" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1118" data-original-width="882" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYmvCbFGxgW6dubN4PZxDU3uKvWFXDKwyunaDLIkGMgaWCKynWWopvRzgVDh-bTgFALODZaedlwJdb1dxm2L5k7DWbfyYt3ReDWO6UjRkCd4RzObknfzIpoA_b8EKXzXOgR3xdzrC8y5hNCTOz5Emj1MCINuoM2XBNJlV0Ut-JPjFN33wLUChmpZT1rJM/w158-h200/Dvorak%201901%20cropped.jpg" width="158" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Dvořák in 1901.</td></tr></tbody></table>When Orfeo’s new bride, Euridice, dies shortly after their marriage, he questions the judgment of the gods and sets out on a journey to restore her to life and to himself. And he makes a bargain with Greek god Plutone to do so. Likewise, Rusalka, a water nymph, longs to be human, and defies the advice of her father Vodník, Spirit of the Lake, not to transform herself into a human. Neither Orfeo’s nor Rusalka’s willful journeys go as planned.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">---ooo---</div><div><br /></div><div><b>Review of <i>Orfeo</i>, August 2</b></div><div><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">Claudio Monteverdi’s <i>L'Orfeo, SV 318</i>, in a prologue and five acts, was premiered in 1607. It was not quite the first opera to be composed, but it is the earliest to remain a somewhat viable theatre piece into the modern era. Its early Baroque-style invention was an astonishment in its day, and holds up well for modern audiences, if modern ears can adjust to the many similar harmonic cadences in the work’s formal structure, the standard practice of the early Baroque era. </div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">The Santa Fe Opera’s production tells the story of Orpheus (Rolando Villazón) who loses Euridice (soprano Amber Norelai), shortly after their wedding, and his determination to travel to the underworld to bring her back to life. He almost does so, but his impulsive nature leads him to violate the edict of Plutone (solid baritone Blake Denson), guardian of the underworld, that he should not look back until they have returned to the land of the living.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiy_jqgX3930__pZKxkZt1_7xDm0kf6jh5wEBov_t5PaKvUV-X43b2WXsye2OiAES8v6gM5fD_TN9C25LWC-RpSZvJXM3Qbcl9akB_pEDmNpEFt1p9UsPbgASNpIuPeZYXVJQf3EGqvMN8fGcDUVbiz45-cLaRfMq8hGuhaAvxcOZcAxtD2JDfagHjnjLk/s3600/CBP_1727_2.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2400" data-original-width="3600" height="346" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiy_jqgX3930__pZKxkZt1_7xDm0kf6jh5wEBov_t5PaKvUV-X43b2WXsye2OiAES8v6gM5fD_TN9C25LWC-RpSZvJXM3Qbcl9akB_pEDmNpEFt1p9UsPbgASNpIuPeZYXVJQf3EGqvMN8fGcDUVbiz45-cLaRfMq8hGuhaAvxcOZcAxtD2JDfagHjnjLk/w640-h426/CBP_1727_2.jpg" width="520" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Orpheus (Rolando Villazón) guided to the underworld by Speranza (Lauren Snouffer).</td></tr></tbody></table>But when Orfeo, to make sure he's not being tricked, impulsively looks back anyway, he loses Euridice forever. He is later consoled by his father Apollo, the god of music (stentorian bass-baritone Apprentice Singer Luke Harnish), who invites him to look down upon her from his starry heavens for all eternity.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">Director Yuval Sharon and “Visual Environment” designers Alex Schweder and Matthew Johnson created, as their most imaginative stage set-piece of the season, a huge, inverted bowl covering most of the stage. First seen in Act I as a heavenly cloud all in white, its Act II iteration becomes a grassy hill for Orfeo’s earthly wedding. For this celebration, the performers (as gracefully as they could) pranced up standing and slid down (carefully) sitting on the steep green inclines.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQY8wVhCo4Yp13BzKyUdnr4_dVNlk1aKdeqYsm-aDDy1rPACZlzvXR-0TSkhHs3ydsL_67U420uP3l7uTu26z3T_0R9IhX5-VkkomPaaeHv1bP0rHGen6VpTEjfTNR65O8YJjeUjypIjyaPBHCHbJjmS9y84NPGmeCzHZ1x5Z3svJjHqoWwszy-UgG7go/s2360/7-ORFEO-OD1-Curtis-Brown-La%20Messageira.jpeg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2360" data-original-width="1542" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQY8wVhCo4Yp13BzKyUdnr4_dVNlk1aKdeqYsm-aDDy1rPACZlzvXR-0TSkhHs3ydsL_67U420uP3l7uTu26z3T_0R9IhX5-VkkomPaaeHv1bP0rHGen6VpTEjfTNR65O8YJjeUjypIjyaPBHCHbJjmS9y84NPGmeCzHZ1x5Z3svJjHqoWwszy-UgG7go/s320/7-ORFEO-OD1-Curtis-Brown-La%20Messageira.jpeg" width="209" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">La Messaggera (Paula Murrihy).</td></tr></tbody></table>But all too quickly La Messaggera (mezzo-soprano Paula Murrihy authoritative in a black cape) arrives to announce Euridice’s death. As she does so, the long black extensions of her dress cover the green lawn in deathly black.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">Acts II and III see the dome rise to the stage’s lofty altitude, opening the murky regions of the underworld for Orfeo to recover Euridice. The goddess Speranza (spirited soprano Lauren Snouffer) spurs his journey on with hope. The dome returns to stage level in Act V for Orfeo’s heavenly consolation prize. Orfeo’s self-indulgence may have lost him his Euridice, but he is not destroyed by Plutone. At the invitation of Apollo, Orfeo may gaze down upon Euridice from Heaven.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">With 14 named actor-singers, the cast on this evening was the largest of the season, one advantage being that apprentice artists gained solid stage experience in this logistically complicated production. Kudos are also particularly due for tenor Rolando Villazón, back on stage despite sustaining a minor injury in a supporting harness during the final dress rehearsal.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvqqoY-AfYvExCe7Mqcn7mWoTxL2ophY0ihQfn8cQ34WA7H9Peolrzb620uLsAzf8RQu-D9-pH_I8xxAKymehjOBc_oCIV8k5XcqDjaq5Jth-HPdiea5m2PzuXAlArrfvWWjmL12i32fW9UGh52DMpM_yLd4mmLJ18qNk2BjNQ2HohRUTnusqbHmaavFs/s3600/12-ORFEO-OD2-Curtis-Brown'Euridice%20in%20Hades.jpeg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2400" data-original-width="3600" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvqqoY-AfYvExCe7Mqcn7mWoTxL2ophY0ihQfn8cQ34WA7H9Peolrzb620uLsAzf8RQu-D9-pH_I8xxAKymehjOBc_oCIV8k5XcqDjaq5Jth-HPdiea5m2PzuXAlArrfvWWjmL12i32fW9UGh52DMpM_yLd4mmLJ18qNk2BjNQ2HohRUTnusqbHmaavFs/w400-h266/12-ORFEO-OD2-Curtis-Brown'Euridice%20in%20Hades.jpeg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Euridice (Amber Norlai) in the underworld, with eerily-haloed chorus.</td></tr></tbody></table>The Schweder and Johnson staging concept earned high marks for its imaginative integration of many locales in depicting the traditional tripartite Hellenic worldview of heaven, earth, and underworld. Kudos also to conductor Harry Bicket for keeping the orchestra’s musical delivery cohesive and lively (in a version of the score for modern instruments prepared by the New York composer Nico Muhly), while the huge cast and stage action moved in all directions.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">---ooo---</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDAlTGHzC5d7wVJ-49uNsfug7yZ_bREcIw_0QRz_wPj_-eNP3Y-ACsuN2g5Qv5rCBQvhVk1wiaQ4kcmnuJrtE8ZnwNBW1lWBPQH4UY0gxNlYcIaNcXHOvB2hMVa4BxvfkK-NJzZQQTGD9YOLV_xxtc6l90HSNKqzprTpW4WgaNuy5gE89gd0NBVYAGRo8/s3600/32-RUSALKA-OD1-Curtis-Brown.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2400" data-original-width="3600" height="346" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDAlTGHzC5d7wVJ-49uNsfug7yZ_bREcIw_0QRz_wPj_-eNP3Y-ACsuN2g5Qv5rCBQvhVk1wiaQ4kcmnuJrtE8ZnwNBW1lWBPQH4UY0gxNlYcIaNcXHOvB2hMVa4BxvfkK-NJzZQQTGD9YOLV_xxtc6l90HSNKqzprTpW4WgaNuy5gE89gd0NBVYAGRo8/w640-h426/32-RUSALKA-OD1-Curtis-Brown.jpg" width="520" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Lydia Yankovskaya conducts the Santa Fe Opera orchestra in front of Leslie Travers' set design <br />for Dvořák’s <i>Rusalka</i>.</td></tr></tbody></table><div style="text-align: justify;"><b style="text-align: left;">Review of <i>Rusalka</i>, August 4</b></div><div><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">The impression one gains from the dramatic score of Antonín Dvořák’s 1901 opera <i>Rusalka Op. 114</i> is its incredible melodic flow. Its folkloric cautionary tale is gorgeously conveyed in Slavic post-Wagnerian orchestral style, full of exotic atmosphere, glinting instrumental colors, and sensuous textures.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnD5gVwUAr4xA4JaPt3QLIaAr-ETjiXIO0vC5hQuLB80___nJg6Rrf8GOzgsRnejOlJmSv_QmBtl15qbA9Jrx-pu5sKDykprSkf9IdEyjuDJpQTcqM9_kZAYP0AnFedz8yT6Mz06Ka3JvldOxY__T5AdFeZFfwUx4_xNuFK58X0lQ80pil1uRa33_QZ5k/s2400/25-RUSALKA-OD1-Curtis-Brown.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2400" data-original-width="2104" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnD5gVwUAr4xA4JaPt3QLIaAr-ETjiXIO0vC5hQuLB80___nJg6Rrf8GOzgsRnejOlJmSv_QmBtl15qbA9Jrx-pu5sKDykprSkf9IdEyjuDJpQTcqM9_kZAYP0AnFedz8yT6Mz06Ka3JvldOxY__T5AdFeZFfwUx4_xNuFK58X0lQ80pil1uRa33_QZ5k/w176-h200/25-RUSALKA-OD1-Curtis-Brown.jpg" width="176" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Vodnik (James Creswell).</td></tr></tbody></table>The story focuses on the delusional quest of the title character, a water nymph named Rusalka (the radiant Ailyn Pérez, soprano), who has fallen in love with a human prince. Not able to find the fulfillment she seeks in the lake that confines her, and having taken a fancy to the human prince who swims in its waters, Rusalka is determined to pursue her fantasy attraction on dry land. Virtually every incident in the unfolding story is seen through her eyes.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbgOJWsVELyaSy-qA_D7Gjqj1lOHOv2in7Qs8B7g_XL9a2kEuyPGxY9KVpZ2FVIYkAFQVD5sBL3Cbtg88HW8YPMuZcMuWRKX5d1ETpzqcL8P9dMKHO55Dteo7TKCUwjA00mKqh8nHO63Gc4T5-J8yKTwMnq5sL09346qpQbLxMFWoCRWR4zI2fC42_Hh8/s3600/5-RUSALKA-OD1-Curtis-Brown.jpg" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3600" data-original-width="2400" height="241" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbgOJWsVELyaSy-qA_D7Gjqj1lOHOv2in7Qs8B7g_XL9a2kEuyPGxY9KVpZ2FVIYkAFQVD5sBL3Cbtg88HW8YPMuZcMuWRKX5d1ETpzqcL8P9dMKHO55Dteo7TKCUwjA00mKqh8nHO63Gc4T5-J8yKTwMnq5sL09346qpQbLxMFWoCRWR4zI2fC42_Hh8/w133-h200/5-RUSALKA-OD1-Curtis-Brown.jpg" width="160" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Raehann Bryce-Davis.</td></tr></tbody></table>Though her father Vodník (plangent bass James Creswell) is aghast at such a prospect, he agrees to help. On her behalf, he enlists the skills of the witch Ježibaba to make Rusalka human. (Raehann Bryce-Davis’s Ježibaba -- Czech for witch -- seems literally bigger than life in her very effective scenes.) Though warned of ominous consequences, including losing her voice on land, Rusalka ignores them, and her reluctant enabler forges ahead. Rusalka literally then becomes the fish out of water she thinks she desires, in her Faustian bargain to gain what she has no right to. At this point, delusion and regret set in.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />Not surprisingly, living on land in her prince’s home is a far worse reality than the seeming loveless world of Rusalka’s native water. Her prince (a hilarious waddling and waffling, also hen-pecked, Robert Watson) is a philandering fool who has glass-cased countless former short-term mistresses and does so temporarily with Rusalka. A certain “Foreign Princess” (a haughty Mary Elizabeth Williams) has commandeered the prince’s attention and amatory behaviors.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8HLZ4doBs9te3lwV8d3Cp-QmFVkxBS9kwquk89fY_XBUiIuQPx1e90LXSTVyk6aNXI255bePJQ-nfleNAOU9LJaxIRy47GNq4e_QDPJTX2bY8vlYLC6WYNr06XPsIWaQFuqDU-q4ZDYUboC66CiUrkN649imUYLNFQftVhiPdhL1bYatiVmbKE9LmzSs/s3600/29-RUSALKA-OD1-Curtis-Brown.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2400" data-original-width="3600" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8HLZ4doBs9te3lwV8d3Cp-QmFVkxBS9kwquk89fY_XBUiIuQPx1e90LXSTVyk6aNXI255bePJQ-nfleNAOU9LJaxIRy47GNq4e_QDPJTX2bY8vlYLC6WYNr06XPsIWaQFuqDU-q4ZDYUboC66CiUrkN649imUYLNFQftVhiPdhL1bYatiVmbKE9LmzSs/w400-h266/29-RUSALKA-OD1-Curtis-Brown.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Rusalka (Ailyn Pérez) and the prince (Robert Watson).</td></tr></tbody></table>So, how to get back? Though offered a knife, Rusalka refuses to stab the prince with it, and throws it in the water. But the prince now realizes he genuinely loves Rusalka and appears by the lakeside to seek her. Rusalka joins him, and gives him the kiss he asks for (<i>above</i>), knowing it will now kill him. Shortly after, she returns to the lake she had no business leaving in the first place. </div><div><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="text-align: left;">... and thus a parting warning from the cautionary tales of both Monteverdi’s <i>Orfeo</i> and Dvořák’s <i>Rusalka</i>: be careful what you wish for. Some things are, and must always be, beyond our human desires.</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="text-align: left;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="text-align: left;">---ooo---</span></div><div><br /></div><div>Crosby Theatre, Santa Fe Opera, 301 Opera Drive, Santa Fe, NM, Wednesday,
August 2, and Friday, August 4, 2023, 8:00 p.m.
</div></div><div>Images: Monteverdi: Wikimedia Commons; Dvořák: eSbírky.cz–cultural heritage on-line; The productions: Curtis Brown.</div><br />Rodney Punthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15216144254280709765noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9194809435670809838.post-78783989534077708682023-08-03T20:51:00.576-07:002023-09-23T13:53:20.879-07:00Santa Fe Opera 2023: Goodbye Covid & Hello "Tosca"<br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_1FMS764WiVVLk3pcUQtVzSwkRoaxm-Tmj6cGRKwW9anslr4jxDIKmMnQ8ESvSg-X_k6l4gOD9jI9r5tPC2SKWwMCPa417Sp3PG2MsVUNx3HFp18K-TcXrz9mrZ4lU36Khuiw6UNeWexrxH0kNl451KRzi89YPq0DZF3i2Bhjb5UfRKWE2T2bMK41vOI/s1536/Crosby-Theatre-audience-orchestra-credit-Robert-Godwin-2022-super-high-res-1536x1021.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1021" data-original-width="1536" height="346" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_1FMS764WiVVLk3pcUQtVzSwkRoaxm-Tmj6cGRKwW9anslr4jxDIKmMnQ8ESvSg-X_k6l4gOD9jI9r5tPC2SKWwMCPa417Sp3PG2MsVUNx3HFp18K-TcXrz9mrZ4lU36Khuiw6UNeWexrxH0kNl451KRzi89YPq0DZF3i2Bhjb5UfRKWE2T2bMK41vOI/w640-h426/Crosby-Theatre-audience-orchestra-credit-Robert-Godwin-2022-super-high-res-1536x1021.jpg" width="520" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Santa Fe Opera's Crosby Theatre interior/exterior.</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><div><b>RODNEY PUNT</b></div><div><b><br /></b></div><div><b>Introduction—</b><b>Opera production in a time of pandemic</b></div><div><b><br /></b></div><div style="text-align: justify;">Santa Fe Opera’s 2023 season is at its mid-point as this report is written. <i>LA Opus</i> will review all five productions in three installments. We'll begin here with some thoughts on opera production in the era of Covid, followed by a review of <i>Tosca</i>. The second installment will review of Monteverdi’s <i>Orfeo</i> and Dvořák’s <i>Rusalka, </i>and the third, Wagner’s <i>Der Fliegende Holländer</i> and Debussy’s <i>Pelléas et Mélisande</i>. </div><div><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">All performing arts enterprises, including Santa Fe Opera, have suffered anxious moments in this third decade of the 21st century due to the worldwide Covid pandemic. A plague of biblical proportions, it has already taken the lives of over a million Americans. The very <i>modus operandi</i> of opera production has been threatened. While televised or filmed performances might be of value temporarily, they are neither as visceral an experience nor the inherited norm for appreciating this art form. Media broadcasts are important, but more supplement than solution.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">Opera is a labor-intensive enterprise, and, in the circumstance of a communicable disease, hazardous. Every live performance involves singers and musicians interacting in proximity, with singers emitting mouth fluids on stage and at each other in the act of singing. Wind and brass players have similar issues in the orchestra pit. Audiences for opera sit in theatre seats designed to pack them in close proximity. Strangers next to each other may or may not practice safe protocols for live attendance.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMDg9EzntYimUMlgM7wTA2Wnm1qRrcRyG06cLORImX5FAiF5oSxO2VPGvJssgQnF5xivqwOdvXHRppdMgj6MrLxG7AOFZkLaWNZ3hSymIF6ndeMPZ9pqdjDKgh4HiZe-dpPtMxsYD8CYYeuU1ywuRuqRN10_SDcxRsN3fr1-etZHu4CuhnEcuBb4tta0E/s679/Screenshot%202023-08-06%20at%2010.21.08%20AM.png" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="679" data-original-width="560" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMDg9EzntYimUMlgM7wTA2Wnm1qRrcRyG06cLORImX5FAiF5oSxO2VPGvJssgQnF5xivqwOdvXHRppdMgj6MrLxG7AOFZkLaWNZ3hSymIF6ndeMPZ9pqdjDKgh4HiZe-dpPtMxsYD8CYYeuU1ywuRuqRN10_SDcxRsN3fr1-etZHu4CuhnEcuBb4tta0E/s320/Screenshot%202023-08-06%20at%2010.21.08%20AM.png" width="264" /></a></div>Coping with the Covid pandemic in such an enterprise has not been easy. National politics collide with personal preferences amongst our country's heterogeneous population, and tensions between the two have skewed how we collectively deal with that pandemic. Remedial precautions are all over the map from disciplined to cavalier.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: inherit; text-align: left;"><span style="caret-color: rgb(27, 27, 37); color: #1b1b25;"><br /></span></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: inherit; text-align: left;"><span style="caret-color: rgb(27, 27, 37); color: #1b1b25;">Forced </span><span style="caret-color: rgb(27, 27, 37); color: #1b1b25;">to cancel the Santa Fe Opera’s 64th Festival Season in 2020 (the first summer in company history without live opera), General Director </span></span><span style="caret-color: rgb(27, 27, 37); color: #1b1b25; text-align: left;">Robert K. Meya</span><span style="caret-color: rgb(27, 27, 37); color: #1b1b25; font-family: inherit; text-align: left;"> assembled a team of experts, in epidemiology, sanitization and public health, to plan for a safe reopening in </span>2021 with simulcasts of productions, and in 2022, live performance with mandatory masking, followed by optional masking when later conditions permitted. Frequent performer tests were and are continuous, with limited runs of productions until this season.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">Happy to report, the current season is the closest to normal company operations in four years. During my attendance this year, it seemed to run even smoother than before the pandemic. That the company has survived and is thriving again is a tribute to the grit of its performers, its management and staff, and to the extraordinary generosity of its donors.</div><div><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">---ooo---<br /><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfBo9Ki7ScOdxFaRXBIFtqFkiTqsEjnxtFFum20GOzTwTRAk9C-cZvyB44yYO86G-RNvTfWDgs79TE5pPOjZNdx_b5q3lpXla1lgi6aYI6PRzkUHLdrhbCY-mA1RHUaw_MC4aE_7tT-qzufPs3-iX--GFr-NvQ41aNVNrfCxJSYoiOHxqkmj1wQD2rrXs/s2560/10-Tosca-OD1-Curtis-Brown-1-1-scaled.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1707" data-original-width="2560" height="346" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfBo9Ki7ScOdxFaRXBIFtqFkiTqsEjnxtFFum20GOzTwTRAk9C-cZvyB44yYO86G-RNvTfWDgs79TE5pPOjZNdx_b5q3lpXla1lgi6aYI6PRzkUHLdrhbCY-mA1RHUaw_MC4aE_7tT-qzufPs3-iX--GFr-NvQ41aNVNrfCxJSYoiOHxqkmj1wQD2rrXs/w640-h426/10-Tosca-OD1-Curtis-Brown-1-1-scaled.jpg" width="520" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Scarpia (Reginald Smith, Jr.) gloats over his plan at the end of Act 1 of <i>Tosca</i>.</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><b>REVIEW</b></div><div><b><br /></b></div><div><b>"Tosca" by Giacomo Puccini, Crosby Theatre, Santa Fe Opera</b><div><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSHQbMyAu6_QRKYgM_l2CxlYut7bEYp8gmprKcDfFrADDWUdDbXSAX9GgzeDWE8mHIx5tF1ZCI6RqcGqTXZ4wHJTc8MyhvZGRhPXb5jcA-rEvyvO6mcWu-tkEUZDa35AdBwjPBBtnyA-ujLF4j1bmhP0H6vSk2Z9D3sqS68co8Z7DGiincKxwYCTdUNjc/s800/Giacomo%20Puccini.jpeg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="800" data-original-width="516" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSHQbMyAu6_QRKYgM_l2CxlYut7bEYp8gmprKcDfFrADDWUdDbXSAX9GgzeDWE8mHIx5tF1ZCI6RqcGqTXZ4wHJTc8MyhvZGRhPXb5jcA-rEvyvO6mcWu-tkEUZDa35AdBwjPBBtnyA-ujLF4j1bmhP0H6vSk2Z9D3sqS68co8Z7DGiincKxwYCTdUNjc/s320/Giacomo%20Puccini.jpeg" width="206" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Giacomo Puccini around the<br />time of <i>Tosca</i>'s composition.</td></tr></tbody></table>So here we were, back on the first day of August, for another production of <i>Tosca (</i>the company's eighth) at Santa Fe Opera’s Crosby Theatre, its open side walls greeting the arriving audience with skies of accustomed Technicolor glory, right up to curtain time, after which those skies soon would transition to cooler colors on a warm evening, and Puccini’s "shabby little shocker" (Joseph Kerman's famous words) would commence in fiery, melodramatic conflict. There would be surprises in the unfolding action, by now almost too familiar to opera lovers.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">It was a pleasure, on this first evening's return here, to again enjoy the remarkable acoustics of the <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Santa_Fe_Opera">Crosby Theatre</a>. Puccini’s orchestra establishes an oppressive emotional climate in this work, his musical metaphors alternating between the warm affections of lovers and the cold brutality of authoritarian power. The motifs and harmonies emanated clearly from the SFO orchestra under the direction of John Fiore. Puccini's orchestrations are a large part of why this shocker still shocks.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCtcv6ASqVfI-sWT0GNiB2WIiE6DMR85f9S1nOTzV1Z9aUTFhvBuar2SGE23D46ehTZEXtbIpLlH_d8G3-V7NS5fFJL8UbKces8hBcVg42YlwiWZlE-ovwvtfao30CLb75Imh7pTWwmFwUBR3SLoHHunot0KiMvtI_d7udIMRNN_BIAIRECgS4M8kA554/s1063/interior-church-of-sant-andrea-della-valle-rome.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1063" data-original-width="845" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCtcv6ASqVfI-sWT0GNiB2WIiE6DMR85f9S1nOTzV1Z9aUTFhvBuar2SGE23D46ehTZEXtbIpLlH_d8G3-V7NS5fFJL8UbKces8hBcVg42YlwiWZlE-ovwvtfao30CLb75Imh7pTWwmFwUBR3SLoHHunot0KiMvtI_d7udIMRNN_BIAIRECgS4M8kA554/w159-h200/interior-church-of-sant-andrea-della-valle-rome.jpg" width="159" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The actual basilica of Sant'<br />Andrea della Valle in Rome.</td></tr></tbody></table>He composed <i>Tosca</i> in 1900, setting its action exactly a century before, when Rome was a police state and Napoleon still the admired liberator of authoritarian regimes. Tonight’s action, however, was moved up to early 20th century Fascist Italy. We are clued into this change of eras in the first act, when a floor-polishing machine and its operator clean the historic church of Sant’Andrea della Valle.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">Baron Scarpia’s authoritarianism will now mirror the fascism of Benito Mussolini. Reinforcing this oppressive climate are the set’s high rows of uniform arches in Acts 2 and 3, invoking both the historic power of ancient Imperial Rome and this story’s early 19th century wannabe revival of it by an ambitious strong man.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbv8utP-QQbXLQ2_X44M-FxtifW8gs5ePZjhYJQC7qmRPf-PL42e6kRAndCh381MeeAyGhEepKRvq4T24OYkzq3f8GcX0cmnqdhQ9noqnKnGZ_-ORUfrhDwVtPmwQ0TRR8AIy3f72K-iSmoV8DKOH48pIKODyu1X232AKeJjSYflxaB5lr5JHPrSC-RIo/s3600/28-TOSCA-OD2-Curtis-Brown-.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2400" data-original-width="3600" height="346" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbv8utP-QQbXLQ2_X44M-FxtifW8gs5ePZjhYJQC7qmRPf-PL42e6kRAndCh381MeeAyGhEepKRvq4T24OYkzq3f8GcX0cmnqdhQ9noqnKnGZ_-ORUfrhDwVtPmwQ0TRR8AIy3f72K-iSmoV8DKOH48pIKODyu1X232AKeJjSYflxaB5lr5JHPrSC-RIo/w640-h426/28-TOSCA-OD2-Curtis-Brown-.jpg" width="520" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The bold neo-fascist scenic design by Ashley Martin-Davis, with lighting design by Allen Hahn.</td></tr></tbody></table><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">In an evening of great singing, the most dramatic stage entrance must be awarded to baritone Blake Denson. The first singer on the scene, he made his SFO company debut as the on-the-lam Angelotti. From high up in the rafters, he shimmied down a dangling rope, as his character seeks asylum with best friend Cavaradossi. In the latter role, tenor <a href="https://www.moartists.com/joshua-guerrero">Joshua Guerrero</a> made memorable his own<i> </i>final season appearance. From his opening aria, comparing Tosca’s brown eyes to the blue eyes of his painting (apt drama in this casting), to his last one praising Tosca’s sweet hands, his every moment bristled with passion. (For the rest of the season, Freddie de Tommaso will take on the role.)</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhevcPcqr1VeLs1miOh2tKvNN921kS9cVk9AKLxpxXnFs432N0L8XyscqrqTFNLIgXjz241aYsoeXiXAVgaaHdndLD2083ZDEWwdVsIHDceJK_ijxyIM94gp4ld873hOjNS6dRhM7DqhmLN1_hU8Bzv2YcNqMR-003iIbDs2pmK1_wWQl-f6MOXGizVPdQ/s1707/4-Tosca-OD1-Curtis-Brown-1-1-scaled.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1707" data-original-width="1161" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhevcPcqr1VeLs1miOh2tKvNN921kS9cVk9AKLxpxXnFs432N0L8XyscqrqTFNLIgXjz241aYsoeXiXAVgaaHdndLD2083ZDEWwdVsIHDceJK_ijxyIM94gp4ld873hOjNS6dRhM7DqhmLN1_hU8Bzv2YcNqMR-003iIbDs2pmK1_wWQl-f6MOXGizVPdQ/w272-h400/4-Tosca-OD1-Curtis-Brown-1-1-scaled.jpg" width="272" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Leah Hawkins.</td></tr></tbody></table>Soprano <a href="https://www.leahhawkinssoprano.com/">Leah Hawkins</a> was originally scheduled as Tosca in the first and last segments of a long run from June 20 to August 7, with Angel Blue relieving her in the middle of it. However, Blue cancelled, so Hawkins has the whole run. At mid-season, her plangent voice remained remarkably fresh. Possessing a bright upper register, she also has the powerful middle range so essential to this dramatic role. With it she conveyed the full gamut of emotions in this <i>echt </i>melodrama.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">The large-framed Hawkins, dressed to the Tosca nines for her every appearance, was somewhat less than agile in her stage movements. The cramped working quarters of Cavaradossi in the first act, more cluttered and dank than other productions I've seen, certainly didn't facilitate much movement anyway. She seemed more comfortable standing and singing gloriously than navigating a cramped stage.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiysXk_mlGSmplRlaX2voMtn4x_mBACWZJlhgj5ZUnBn7rq-lXPp09dxxOcNN61vRO7OdFVl3ZObSI05Xlcr0c_cF_HD2nAFjw-iMz-QfV6-ZsFJzrjIFBe0wV27gIW5wepWI0v_gQvRJXTAMfg_o0Hu2-gqdmE8dLIrSIksVPIbPhkDnNqMmgsbHFVgIk/s2560/8-Tosca-OD1-Curtis-Brown-1-1-scaled.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1707" data-original-width="2560" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiysXk_mlGSmplRlaX2voMtn4x_mBACWZJlhgj5ZUnBn7rq-lXPp09dxxOcNN61vRO7OdFVl3ZObSI05Xlcr0c_cF_HD2nAFjw-iMz-QfV6-ZsFJzrjIFBe0wV27gIW5wepWI0v_gQvRJXTAMfg_o0Hu2-gqdmE8dLIrSIksVPIbPhkDnNqMmgsbHFVgIk/w320-h213/8-Tosca-OD1-Curtis-Brown-1-1-scaled.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>l-r:</i> Spencer Hamlin (Spoletta), Reginald Smith, Jr. (Scarpia), <br />Dale Travis (Sacristan), Ben Brady (Sciarrone).</td></tr></tbody></table>Fine turns in supporting roles were also delivered by Dale Travis as the Sacristan, Ben Brady as a sycophantic Sciarrone, Spencer Hamlin as the executioner Spoletta, Kai Edgar as the sweet-voiced Shepherd boy, and Dylan Gregg as the jailor.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">In an imagined competition between stage villains, Scarpia must be accounted the most loathsome arch-fiend in opera. Reginald Smith Jr.’s cavernous and dark baritone was the personification of evil here, confirming Scarpia’s dreaded hypocrisy, lust, and deception, in cynically invoking Catholicism to entrap and eliminate Cavaradossi. This, while he pursues his carnal lust for Tosca. Scarpia’s chambers, updated to a fascist Italy, sharpened the cynical cruelty. But stage director Keith Warner had some tricks up his sleeve for Scarpia and the audience this evening.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxprP-h56DquAS_9NagKiRZqIN4WuYasLb1k8WwTcOKd5SMuO6zThxlTkVVvCUG6uNNX2c3gUvlN1uwwEBIe7giyXtgaDZr74rtgHgrhSLWcN9Q8u9pBdD1KOF4zJunWg34PschTuLpPmAk14LFaUpgnLdjLFkc-3HN1DkL5QWba9elEzQdLU-2om86uI/s2560/19-Tosca-OD1-Curtis-Brown-1-1-scaled.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1707" data-original-width="2560" height="346" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxprP-h56DquAS_9NagKiRZqIN4WuYasLb1k8WwTcOKd5SMuO6zThxlTkVVvCUG6uNNX2c3gUvlN1uwwEBIe7giyXtgaDZr74rtgHgrhSLWcN9Q8u9pBdD1KOF4zJunWg34PschTuLpPmAk14LFaUpgnLdjLFkc-3HN1DkL5QWba9elEzQdLU-2om86uI/w640-h426/19-Tosca-OD1-Curtis-Brown-1-1-scaled.jpg" width="520" /></a></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div>While in the original libretto Tosca stabs Scarpia to death, in this evening’s horror-show, as he sits smugly in his chair, she lunges at him from behind, strangling him with a cord. Soon suffocated, Scarpia's limp body signals the monster’s death, but as Tosca later passes by him, he suddenly awakes to grab her arm, causing the biggest collective gasp I’ve ever encountered in the Crosby Theater. It may be horror show boilerplate, but in an operatic setting this clever film interpolation one-upped the by now clichéd stabbing that has lost its shock value in conventional stagings. (Consider the upside: strangling Scarpia here saves a lot of post-performance washings of his blood-stained shirts.)</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-fAR0E0nDTV0DlzPSRZNnDF2krHnEUAvMIYjjXE2GbL9nVMgSw_PCSvSYkV4LtyrtRO6C88cgO77ptUc2Qa1rM9ktorjQJr-BXvqNaTvqADpM2B628R9mAjYnf8JCLquHyBy7zNJ0bHfYsG5kAE2r8XWCfydYc9JWrmimpdfCX50Ovlx4FgDJDyMSLo4/s2400/24-TOSCA-OD2-Curtis-Brown-.jpg" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2400" data-original-width="2041" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-fAR0E0nDTV0DlzPSRZNnDF2krHnEUAvMIYjjXE2GbL9nVMgSw_PCSvSYkV4LtyrtRO6C88cgO77ptUc2Qa1rM9ktorjQJr-BXvqNaTvqADpM2B628R9mAjYnf8JCLquHyBy7zNJ0bHfYsG5kAE2r8XWCfydYc9JWrmimpdfCX50Ovlx4FgDJDyMSLo4/w272-h320/24-TOSCA-OD2-Curtis-Brown-.jpg" width="272" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Cavaradossi (Joshua Guerrero) and Tosca<br />(Leah Hawkins) in the final scene.</td></tr></tbody></table>Another surprise was in store. With Tosca having planned an escape for her and Cavaradossi after his “fake” execution in a deal she cuts with Scarpia (just before she strangles him), she is caught completely unaware when Spoletta actually executes Cavaradossi by firing squad on Scarpia’s earlier orders. Tosca is now suicidal, but there would no traditional jumping off the parapet in this production.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">In a trance from this final shock, she quietly exits stage left, perhaps to jump<i> after</i> the curtain falls, while her devotional double, gowned in white and blood red, walks off the rear stage in the diagonal corner from the live Tosca, a spiritual if undramatic deliverance from her pain into a higher realm.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">Where the unexpected Scarpia death scene had stunned the audience, this anticlimactic gesture for Tosca left the audience puzzled. But this interpolated finale was certainly a practical decision, given the chance for injury when a performer attempts a stage jump. The double human image of Tosca also offered a hint of heavenly redemption for her.<br /><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><div><b style="font-style: italic;">Postscript:</b><i> This author took in a </i>Tosca<i><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVobw0fEdTNHuagsOCQrUXHjssTk5KxnVZPxmWoebvQx636pFbs2UlT1MRdqpGWLYBwTsLCs6W1ELkpzBZu8B9itP449Zu1f_xyUWZzOV4pfRicvQuV5zEC4gCUp5Y5hkzj3acbiKPpARojIjfEoB-AMjUVKVh1p3cSX_-LEjSeXqV5GxAX3tRkzS-w1o/s695/93419682_3042196999205442_5094658544016293888_n.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="695" data-original-width="427" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVobw0fEdTNHuagsOCQrUXHjssTk5KxnVZPxmWoebvQx636pFbs2UlT1MRdqpGWLYBwTsLCs6W1ELkpzBZu8B9itP449Zu1f_xyUWZzOV4pfRicvQuV5zEC4gCUp5Y5hkzj3acbiKPpARojIjfEoB-AMjUVKVh1p3cSX_-LEjSeXqV5GxAX3tRkzS-w1o/w123-h200/93419682_3042196999205442_5094658544016293888_n.jpg" width="123" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Birgit Nillson as Tosca.</td></tr></tbody></table> production a half century ago at the Los Angeles Chandler Pavilion. Produced by the New York City Opera, it was a last minute replacement opener for the company's 1974 season in L.A. In those days of the NYCO, its productions could uncharitably be characterized as rough-and-unready. Starring as Tosca was Birgit Nilsson, then age 56, substituting for an ill Beverly Sills (and enjoying singing Italian as she so infrequently had the chance with a career centered in Wagner and Strauss). Starring with her was a young tenor by the name of José Carreras. All of 28 years old, he looked like a skinny boy next to the stout Ms. Nilsson in their scenes together.</i></div><div><i><br /></i></div><div><i>Known by the Chandler's production crew, I was able to sneak into the back stage area, in those more innocent days, to see how Nilsson would jump off the Castel Sant'Angelo's </i><i>parapet</i><i>. Just below and </i><i>backstage,</i><i> behind the façade of the parapet, was an elevated pinewood frame at head-level height, on top of it a floppy old mattress. I was a foot away from this contraption, near where Nilsson would jump. The moment came and she made the leap facing toward me and landing first on her knees, then like a pro all the rest of her came forward on her forearms. Her head was then about 18 inches from mine and her flop on that mattress kicked up a huge cloud of dust, enveloping the two of us now staring at each other. We were both spontaneously laughing until the stage hands arrived to help her down. I made a hasty departure to get out of the way. Though we had that moment of amusement together, we never spoke and I never had a chance to meet her again.</i></div><div><br /></div></div><div style="text-align: center;">---ooo---</div></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">Crosby Theatre, Santa Fe Opera, 301 Opera Drive, Santa Fe, NM, Tuesday, <br />August 1, 2023, 8:05 p.m.</div><div style="text-align: left;">Images: Theatre interior/exterior: Robert Godwin; Theatre entrance: Regina N. Emmer; Puccini: Wikimedia Commons; Sant'Andrea della Vale: colosseumrometickets.com; The production: Curtis Brown; Birgit Nillson: Facebook opera page.</div>David J Brownhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08224977724583670873noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9194809435670809838.post-6147306717326113902023-07-04T16:29:00.558-07:002023-07-30T18:07:26.512-07:00Long Beach Opera stages Schubert in “The Recital”<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgidJ0Vs8pN2KVd1VMzCGXZOsey_dItZC9gYI-qoG7g8tfnHkyo1Vy-GlBdwmyXAbNKZupLOhPWJNdbW-_vOU8YvG0sh9TeNQKRDRIMUqcY7PzSWdkzuyQnpsikRbKNWHOTTovnqAr7wS5mFJEv1fVYQkxbXLdiEbkxoFXtgFpbtOW1n0QGduRlSs_w1kc/s7952/recital-136.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="5304" data-original-width="7952" height="346" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgidJ0Vs8pN2KVd1VMzCGXZOsey_dItZC9gYI-qoG7g8tfnHkyo1Vy-GlBdwmyXAbNKZupLOhPWJNdbW-_vOU8YvG0sh9TeNQKRDRIMUqcY7PzSWdkzuyQnpsikRbKNWHOTTovnqAr7wS5mFJEv1fVYQkxbXLdiEbkxoFXtgFpbtOW1n0QGduRlSs_w1kc/w640-h426/recital-136.jpg" width="520" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Mezzo-soprano Hope Nelson in Long Beach Opera’s staging, with backdrops, of Schubert’s <br /><i>Die Schöne Müllerin.</i></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><div>REVIEW</div><div><br /></div><div>Long Beach Opera, The Art Theatre, Long Beach</div><div>RODNEY PUNT</div><div><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhI7IZ7qMAjyPttSQtbAngrJn0RIZwol4vhJgdkYW6DII2LVCCPhZTtb5jZjqzrYSwl-Xvfkvq4h7MfluzjCnv78JYmRgJDRZrQQQftjcufwCPc_pE9JIUVSw3o1bERj6uLg6JKyrAZOFUZH5MpkYci2fI1sLbSR0bHhjEb2vLkFKNLl0OblQ1zoFmpizQ/s320/LBO%202nd%20Annual%20Opera%20+%20Film%20Fest%20Signage.jpeg" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="215" data-original-width="320" height="134" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhI7IZ7qMAjyPttSQtbAngrJn0RIZwol4vhJgdkYW6DII2LVCCPhZTtb5jZjqzrYSwl-Xvfkvq4h7MfluzjCnv78JYmRgJDRZrQQQftjcufwCPc_pE9JIUVSw3o1bERj6uLg6JKyrAZOFUZH5MpkYci2fI1sLbSR0bHhjEb2vLkFKNLl0OblQ1zoFmpizQ/w200-h134/LBO%202nd%20Annual%20Opera%20+%20Film%20Fest%20Signage.jpeg" width="200" /></a></div>For its season finale the last weekend of June, titled "The Recital", Long Beach Opera turned itself into mostly a film festival, with two 5-hour days of screenings at San Pedro's Art Theatre (<i>right</i>). LBO Artistic Director James Darrah handed program planning to guest co-curators Tom C. J. Brown and Raviv Ullman, and music direction to Rakefet Hak. A pairing of film and live song on Sunday, June 25 caught my eye.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">Performed on both days, with a different slate of films, was a staged recital of Franz Schubert’s poignant 1823 song-cycle, <i>Die Schöne Müllerin D. 795</i>, followed by an animated film produced by Brown, <i>Christopher at Sea</i>, which thematically linked to the Schubert with snippets of its music and the shared atmospherics of loneliness. Both works also involved fearsome encounters with water.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><i><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQyk3_3iyO3emgAnf0hCZ4TYWZmihpnFguC1RbsFmIEbybhPrTbNarI8AagDUbwtXTJAKveoMWRShhBtFpdHMv2xH2K9ktsuL4T3TZpjTdqPrmZuOFlwf5VZG2LYGZZj4gNYMu4sy6Xf2y6t00Q7iLZf91Y-Fsz2Vohez5K6zADiRlwg5U19oy0bqZaL8/s1003/57a63d_27838ff1fe954f86983740e576ee19f5~mv2.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="420" data-original-width="1003" height="168" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQyk3_3iyO3emgAnf0hCZ4TYWZmihpnFguC1RbsFmIEbybhPrTbNarI8AagDUbwtXTJAKveoMWRShhBtFpdHMv2xH2K9ktsuL4T3TZpjTdqPrmZuOFlwf5VZG2LYGZZj4gNYMu4sy6Xf2y6t00Q7iLZf91Y-Fsz2Vohez5K6zADiRlwg5U19oy0bqZaL8/w400-h168/57a63d_27838ff1fe954f86983740e576ee19f5~mv2.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br />Christopher at Sea</i>, animated with expressionistic black lines alternately tinted in blue, red, green, or yellow, tells the story of a lad’s near isolation on a storm-tossed freighter crossing the Atlantic. Wary of the gruff crew, he has hallucinatory nightmares. In one bathroom scene on the pitching ship, he is shocked by someone’s urine flowing toward him on the floor. But having endured such fears, his emotions calm when a kind man befriends him with love and assurance.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgStjCibYnvBODFwnLo3wkwzTYiqr4e2jCF9S30s04Js2ms9mVSoYEAyIocT-5KJFSVLuDWt-9cQvYmTiTwIhyUyt8vPYMRLbXay4i_-DPh401mRjmfwzKK9VFNkoklHVlZO3TvEkWE_VTWAN6r5HJwAaAhIk5EAR2uVBibL9PwxCt0oJ0iLXFiz3g9qsg/s538/Untitled-design-26-1536x864.png" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="538" data-original-width="457" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgStjCibYnvBODFwnLo3wkwzTYiqr4e2jCF9S30s04Js2ms9mVSoYEAyIocT-5KJFSVLuDWt-9cQvYmTiTwIhyUyt8vPYMRLbXay4i_-DPh401mRjmfwzKK9VFNkoklHVlZO3TvEkWE_VTWAN6r5HJwAaAhIk5EAR2uVBibL9PwxCt0oJ0iLXFiz3g9qsg/w170-h200/Untitled-design-26-1536x864.png" width="170" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Franz Schubert.</td></tr></tbody></table>Distilled in <i>Die Schöne Müllerin</i>’s 20 songs for a singer and piano is the yearning and loss of the Romantic searcher (“The Wanderer”). In the otherwise fine Long Beach Opera program booklet of some 28 pages, chock full of credits and commentary, there was unfortunately just a bare mention of composer Franz Schubert and nothing at all about the poet Wilhelm Müller, whose verses provided the narrative story for <i>Die Schöne Müllerin</i> that inspired Schubert’s masterpiece.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZuTxwmMXvTmdgeT5lnYRfAZNs3P7IOFFIXsIynuge5makY-9UjP8wfZjPk7B2d-BP5dgxwKJdMeaJAmd4hvW69eNELBq4I5s3dx7uN9edUzYnzKYrOX9IuaLsbr4tNCbNeWpb5sWalFEf3I7xs1eyD10DDeoJysJCyyyJ66VJKIIs5vvQy-8zUvhgfT4/s562/Wilhelm_Mu%CC%88ller_by_Schro%CC%88ter.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="562" data-original-width="462" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZuTxwmMXvTmdgeT5lnYRfAZNs3P7IOFFIXsIynuge5makY-9UjP8wfZjPk7B2d-BP5dgxwKJdMeaJAmd4hvW69eNELBq4I5s3dx7uN9edUzYnzKYrOX9IuaLsbr4tNCbNeWpb5sWalFEf3I7xs1eyD10DDeoJysJCyyyJ66VJKIIs5vvQy-8zUvhgfT4/w164-h200/Wilhelm_Mu%CC%88ller_by_Schro%CC%88ter.jpg" width="164" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Wilhelm Müller.</td></tr></tbody></table>Schubert infused Müller's poems with musical analogues that uniquely depict both the external trappings of a miller boy’s apprenticeship and, at each stage, his internal emotional state. The story has him falling in love with the miller’s daughter, whom he imagines reciprocates. But from the arrival of a hearty green-clad hunter lad on the scene, it becomes apparent the daughter fancies the latter. Hurt feelings, anger, and suicidal thoughts overwhelm the emotionally fragile miller boy. His only confidant is the mute millstream whose alternately calm and roaring waters he will soon join in a union of no return.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">Song cycles are usually sung in concert halls, with singer and pianist dressed in concert attire. Any action depicted takes place only in the imaginations of audience members. But this fully staged <i>Schöne Müllerin</i>, on a shallow riser in front of the film screen, had an entirely different feel. It was brought to vivid physical life with large video projections (by designers Jack Wedge and Will Freudenheim), charmingly illustrating an idealized Romantic-era Austrian countryside, with its village watermill and a miller’s home nearby. Various props (fabricated by Jen Dunlap) helped to theatricalize the many incidents of the songs.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">It seemed at first that co-curators Brown and Ullman were out to fashion a work of naïve nostalgia by replicating the <i>zeitgeist</i> of Schubert’s early 19th century. Hard-bitten modernists might accuse its painterly <i>mise-en-scènes</i> of shameless kitsch. But, as a century or more has passed since such Romantic-era scenes had become clichés, the effect was more an encounter with long-lost charm, as if the Romantic wanderer in this story had just arrived at an idealized home and hearth.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwIl-4v8_reosb_GREcSN4OGz2PZYFdbokhuTTkvemDUsDoyt9sleB5afMIsQKjXP7V5DaDl85UR4XjFhD_OEJPYSkJd8EKnw-sca6y7rO8BLPXaRhmdtf8nvd2CZ1H0iIArIwfPZ8yLdN7YeQOKMz6grF6RgoeMYeSDGyeRqvJRvhmBKgPyI9craVevA/s5000/recital-210%20%5BCROPPED%5D.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3335" data-original-width="5000" height="346" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwIl-4v8_reosb_GREcSN4OGz2PZYFdbokhuTTkvemDUsDoyt9sleB5afMIsQKjXP7V5DaDl85UR4XjFhD_OEJPYSkJd8EKnw-sca6y7rO8BLPXaRhmdtf8nvd2CZ1H0iIArIwfPZ8yLdN7YeQOKMz6grF6RgoeMYeSDGyeRqvJRvhmBKgPyI9craVevA/w640-h426/recital-210%20%5BCROPPED%5D.jpg" width="520" /></a></div><br />But a disruptive element was imbedded in the charming pictorialism. The casting of the miller boy was not the bright-voiced tenor one usually encounters in this work, but a mezzo-soprano named Hope Nelson. Tall, big-boned, and dressed in brown work pants and shirt, she suggested tomboys of yore on cinema and TV, like perhaps the similarly clad Doris Day of the 1953 film <i>Calamity Jane</i>, or the stage’s Annie Oakley, the sharpshooter who can’t get a man with a gun. With this gender casting, a subtext of sexual ambiguity had been introduced.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">A work for traditional piano and natural voice, <i>Die Schöne Müllerin</i> registers best in the lively acoustics of a concert hall. The limited resonance of the Art Theatre, designed for film, provided little sonic warmth for Nelson to float her vocalizations in Sunday’s repetition of the song recital, each over an hour’s length. To her singing were additional duties as actress, with props and projections around which to navigate. Singing this work on two consecutive days could have posed both an artistic and physical challenge. But throughout, Nelson’s performance was compelling. Her rendition of all the songs, particularly the farewell lullaby, <i>Des Baches Wiegenlied</i>, was warm and moving.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhW84wUHgMGEswgFn6qlb3xpAx2UJQ3lpFhiZcZLdwWCNwJfY10sYd288nsvR-xtrbBE2ROq9zXn_IU8iZUgpnGW69mzYa1PfVNOIF0i_3FdxKKRAVJypqv1dVrGLNxE5_Z5Gdu35toM5FOPM8yH8AJGMArs6OuJVPOZhI4TNecpXgJp9mWJ7YAC32JiyA/s3622/recital-418%20%5BCROPPED%5D.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2373" data-original-width="3622" height="197" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhW84wUHgMGEswgFn6qlb3xpAx2UJQ3lpFhiZcZLdwWCNwJfY10sYd288nsvR-xtrbBE2ROq9zXn_IU8iZUgpnGW69mzYa1PfVNOIF0i_3FdxKKRAVJypqv1dVrGLNxE5_Z5Gdu35toM5FOPM8yH8AJGMArs6OuJVPOZhI4TNecpXgJp9mWJ7YAC32JiyA/s320/recital-418%20%5BCROPPED%5D.jpg" width="300" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Sky Haneul Lee (<i>left</i>) with Hope Nelson.</td></tr></tbody></table>Off stage, to the left of the theater screen, Nelson’s pianist partner, Sky Haneul Lee, fluently realized Schubert's keyboard atmospherics with which he depicts the mill, the stream, home, and the ill-fated miller boy’s mercurial emotional states. Singer and pianist were well paired in this admirable collaboration, a performance to cherish. </div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">But more was going on this day than a vocal recital, more even than the novelty of its staging. As staged here, an examination of gender implications within Schubert's masterpiece was underway.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrz4eVx3RGnlSAel2mgNyoMJRdfbQ4Gmpg7Pw9MUv-GHni5R8co7Qb1unUE07f96kYn0KPZuVcQyN8zToHAhlXjVe2Wx9_jI2e1c4fZ-80tznHkLQkrdLw2GPx-qTWitCnXf8LSYuYr-3WuoHuvr5MEte3GiJqx0ryH0N8voEXLLbkVWo_j6qAqq15s68/s5304/recital-369%20copy.jpg" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="5304" data-original-width="3218" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrz4eVx3RGnlSAel2mgNyoMJRdfbQ4Gmpg7Pw9MUv-GHni5R8co7Qb1unUE07f96kYn0KPZuVcQyN8zToHAhlXjVe2Wx9_jI2e1c4fZ-80tznHkLQkrdLw2GPx-qTWitCnXf8LSYuYr-3WuoHuvr5MEte3GiJqx0ryH0N8voEXLLbkVWo_j6qAqq15s68/s320/recital-369%20copy.jpg" width="194" /></a></div>So-called “trouser roles” have much precedent in opera. Mozart’s Cherubino in <i>The Marriage of Figaro</i> and Richard Strauss’s Octavian in <i>Der Rosenkavalier</i> are prominent examples. In these works, female singers perform dramatic roles intended as adolescent males who pursue love interests with older females.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">In terms of poet Müller’s literary characters, however, Nelson's height and sturdy frame seems almost make more dramatic sense had she been perceived as the rival hunter lad than the sensitive miller boy. But what if Nelson is, within the story itself, a female disguising herself as a boy, rather than an actual adolescent boy? Beethoven’s opera <i>Fidelio </i>has such a trouser role, but the audience knows that Leonora assumes her disguise as the “male” Fidelio to gain access to a jail to free her husband. Gender pretense will resolve as conventional heterosexual love.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">This production seems to have introduced <i>intentional</i> sexual ambiguity in the casting of Ms. Nelson as the miller boy. Is “she” a boy thwarted in his first love? Or is she a tomboy who had disguised herself as a boy to get the miller apprentice job, but then found herself attracted to the pretty maid of the mill? The societal insecurity of same-sex love would then collide with the personal jealousy of competing with a man for the same girl. The psychological drama takes on far more complexity.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4d3XxhT01AduaFaqG4SIDkOEe3yj79pS-24yh_LkH5WxpeDFGduZu0rUMJpblJQ0RS4AjMpEC_Vk2AGRLluJuA071xLnF-CrOBgP7ZBQKjum7aw9X26etoAW3UBS2rq6sjbkDWQYPhdnPNK2VpFkxZFT2AbOBLGc_3LWnDJuxuH2o7isR3szn9QbPvk8/s320/James%20Darrah,%20Tom%20CJ%20Brown,%20Raviv%20Ullman%20-%20LBO%20THE%20RECITAL.jpeg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="213" data-original-width="320" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4d3XxhT01AduaFaqG4SIDkOEe3yj79pS-24yh_LkH5WxpeDFGduZu0rUMJpblJQ0RS4AjMpEC_Vk2AGRLluJuA071xLnF-CrOBgP7ZBQKjum7aw9X26etoAW3UBS2rq6sjbkDWQYPhdnPNK2VpFkxZFT2AbOBLGc_3LWnDJuxuH2o7isR3szn9QbPvk8/w320-h213/James%20Darrah,%20Tom%20CJ%20Brown,%20Raviv%20Ullman%20-%20LBO%20THE%20RECITAL.jpeg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Q&A with (<i>l-r</i>) James Darrah, Tom C. J. Brown, <br />and Raviv Ullman.</td></tr></tbody></table>A clue to the likely viewpoint of this production’s directors comes from their curatorial pairing of the Schubert work with <i>Christopher at Sea</i>. The program booklet states: <br />“<i>…to make </i>Christopher at Sea<i>, Brown lived in his film’s setting on a large cargo vessel at sea and used historic recordings of Schubert’s song cycle as constant inspiration for the queer-focused intimate story, the score, and the mood of his animated work</i>.”</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">Common to both works as poetic sub-text is the mood-swing personality of Nature’s mysterious waters: the friendly but fatal water of the miller boy’s stream, and the unfriendly but ultimately forgiving water of Christopher’s ocean. The fear and loneliness of the shipbound lad in the Atlantic finds a male who loves him, but the hapless trouser-rolled apprentice in love with a girl in the Schubert does not.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDn4X0HNo42QwrJVRMp-y4BoZz-mJQuIpEfwggldFEho8V1fBJc3RI3k896TYOVDBK9I41ucB6HdIx0RrAJpxGexNtEUllwlTj7xiFoSV73LLqWdFuol915vtbGNc7-3daJ2bEbTAqVzrKbNrNI-hHfrTsscqr3zvWd8ugCPCehrBDfRH6MUql0qSDTiw/s1009/57a63d_82a6a7b6b1c3474eb2e30d7a626fd24b~mv2.webp" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="512" data-original-width="1009" height="203" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDn4X0HNo42QwrJVRMp-y4BoZz-mJQuIpEfwggldFEho8V1fBJc3RI3k896TYOVDBK9I41ucB6HdIx0RrAJpxGexNtEUllwlTj7xiFoSV73LLqWdFuol915vtbGNc7-3daJ2bEbTAqVzrKbNrNI-hHfrTsscqr3zvWd8ugCPCehrBDfRH6MUql0qSDTiw/w400-h203/57a63d_82a6a7b6b1c3474eb2e30d7a626fd24b~mv2.webp" width="400" /></a></div><br />Difficult enough to sort out when attractions are heterosexual, how much more fraught with unknown consequence can attractions be in same-sex relationships, as was artistically exampled between Schubert’s tomboy and the miller girl, or a young man and a sympathetic sailor in <i>Christopher at Sea</i>?</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">The point reinforces the modern view that gay lifestyles are a mainstream human condition and should be normalized in all cultures today. As I once heard observed: <i>“What’s wrong with gay love? After all, it’s the second most popular form of love for humankind.”</i></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">Indeed. </div><div><div style="text-align: center;">---ooo---</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">Long Beach Opera, The Art Theatre, 2025 E. 4th St., Long Beach, CA 90814, Sunday, June 25, 2023, 12:00 p.m.</div><div style="text-align: left;">Images: Theater exterior: Bronson Foster for Long Beach Opera; Film still: Director website; Müller, Schubert: Wikimedia Commons; The performance: Jordan Geiger for LBO; Q&A: Katie Speer for LBO.</div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /></div>David J Brownhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08224977724583670873noreply@blogger.com0