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BlogCritics reviews cellist Jakob Kullberg at National Sawdust

Danish cellist Jakob Kullberg performed an interesting, at times moving, and thoroughly eclectic concert at National Sawdust in Brooklyn with pianist Jeremy Gill and clarinetist Chris Grymes on Feb. 2, 2020. The latest event in Grymes’ Open G series highlighted music by Nordic composers. Some of the pieces are closely associated with the cellist himself; all were U.S. or world premieres.

Kullberg proved in concert what he indicated in our recent interview: that he is always exploring and pushing boundaries, in both genre and technique.

“You do not understand, you are not from here,” he sang in the last of four “Country Songs for clarinet, cello, and piano” by Niels Rønsholdt. This world premiere of pared-down elements from an in-progress cello concerto epitomized both the genre-merging and experimental sides of Kullberg’s interests. Here and elsewhere he sang lines of poetry in a pleasant but untrained tenor, and with little affect. The idea is that adding untrained vocalizing to music played by trained instrumentalists can add a degree of expressivity.

That sometimes held true, but elsewhere the deliberately affectless singing created a sense of distance, with a hint of sadness but also a separation of the audience from the emotion produced by the abstract sounds of the instruments. “You are not from here” indeed. Nonetheless without a doubt it was, as the cellist surely intended, food for thought.

Kullberg demonstrated an unusual technique in several works: holding and playing the cello like a guitar, complete with finger picking and strumming. He showed his adeptness at this in the “Country Songs,” sounding a little like a Spanish guitar in the sweetly sad “Island,” and in other works too, including his own “Song: Lullaby for clarinet, cello, and piano.” There, his gentle picking and singing, Grymes’ airy clarinet, and Gill’s playing the inside of the piano combined to create a true “song” that sounded more heartfelt than experimental despite the unconventional techniques.

The richest music and most compelling performance from the trio, though, came in Bent Sørensen’s “Schattenlinie for clarinet, cello, and piano.” This mostly very quiet piece began by suggesting wind through trees, drops of water and ice, and moves through fascinating unexpected harmonies. A rhythmic dance with a sense of danger gave way in the third movement to ethereal harmonies, which then fall apart, the instruments crying out with swells and trills as if in pain. The musicians achieved a lovely melding of timbres in the fourth movement, and made the conflicting keys of the fifth both eerie and touching, searching for unity and at last, led by the piano, finding something like it.

Non-traditional techniques also drove a strong performance of Finnish composer Kaija Saariaho’s interesting “Im Traume for cello and piano.” Noisy clatter and pained gestures with occasional lapses into traditional harmony made it a dramatic listen and a theatrical event to watch, too. In a more interior way, Per Nørgard’s “Solo Sonata No. 3,” What! is the Word,” which opened the concert, told a soulful story as well. It gave Kullberg on his own a chance to unleash the richness and varied expressivity of his arco tone: icy, then deeply resonant, then luxuriating in long dissonant sighs.

All told, the program featured music by six Nordic composers, including Kullberg himself. These challenging works allowed the three fine musicians to focus on one cellist’s ongoing search for new ways to build on the past century’s musical traditions while forging his own path. Follow Jakob Kullberg’s touring and recording career on his website.

BlogCritics interviews cellist Jakob Kullberg

Exclusive Interview: Danish Cellist Jakob Kullberg

Jon Sobel

Cellist Jakob Kullberg will be performing pieces for cello, clarinet, and piano by Nordic composers, some of them world premieres, at National Sawdust in Brooklyn on Feb. 2, 2020. The noted musician, recipient of two Danish Grammy Awards, will be joined by clarinetist Chris Grymes and pianist Jeremy Gill. Kullberg spoke with us about his career and the upcoming concert.

Many American listeners won’t be familiar with some of these composers. Can you tell us a little about some of the works and how they’re meaningful to you?

The music of Nørgård, Saariaho and Sørensen has a special place in my heart.

I have been working very closely with Per Nørgård for more than 20 years in a myriad of constellations and roles. Recently I recorded a work for violin, cello and orchestra with the Bergen Philharmonic Orchestra in Norway that stands as a particularly good example of the creative and collaborative way we have developed.

The work, called “Three Nocturnal Movements,” had its premiere at the Bergen International Festival in 2015 and has an unusual creation story. The second movement is my composition on Nørgård’s piano fragments, meaning that I have chosen sketches and unfinished fragments from a recording I made of Nørgård playing the piano.

After making a selection of material I decided on the form of the movement, composed connections, superimposed material from the surrounding movements so as to make a coherent whole and finally orchestrated it.

In general I find that Nørgård, Sørensen and Saariaho represent some of the best Nordic music from their generation. I felt I understood Saariaho’s orchestration better after experiencing the Finnish summer nights where the sun never really goes down but instead creates a flamboyant spectrum of purple, red and blue hues.

Both Nørgård and Saariaho feel a connection to the music of Sibelius and for me [their music] has a profound quality. It represents both traditional cello playing and new invention and so fits me like a glove.

Eivind Buene and Niels Rønsholdt are both contemporary classical composers who have begun composing music that connects with contemporary music but also with popular music. In this sense I feel a natural connection to what they do as I myself am interested in many different styles of music such as jazz, blues and indie-pop.

I feel I have an opportunity to explore a less classical side of myself through the collaboration with them.

Read the rest of the interview at this link.

Insider Interview with pianist and composer Eric Wubbels

On Tuesday, January 28, 2020 at 7:00 pm, the Austrian Cultural Forum New York presents pianist Eric Wubbels performing selections from Peter Ablinger's ground-breaking "Voices and Piano" seriesIn this Insider Interview, we spoke with Mr. Wubbels about his past experiences working with Ablinger, his approach to learning this music, and so much more.  More info online at acfny.org.

What drew you to the music of Peter Ablinger? 

His music really stands out for me in the world of composition – in the visual arts there are all kinds of major artists whose work is first and foremost concept-driven, but among composers until very recently it's hard to name more than Cage, Lucier, and one or two others. I'd put Ablinger in with them.

The breadth of his practice is pretty extraordinary (everything from concert music to installation to opera, text scores, electronic music, and “trees planted according to acoustic criteria”...), and yet once you're familiar with his basic artistic personality everything is so clearly related back to a very small set of core concerns and principles. The simplest way I could say it is that his music is about listening.

And yet for me it's the furthest thing from dryly conceptual in its treatment of those concerns. It's incredibly sincere, humanistic, spiritual, and politically engaged, unpretentious and alive to beauty. And, I love the sounds...

And can you share any anecdotes from your experiences working with him?

In 2009 he agreed to come to New York to work with my ensemble on a concert of his music. We had basically no reputation in Europe, so we were amazed that he was willing to come over at all. And then, he refused to be put up in a hotel (he slept on my couch in Brooklyn for the week), and refused to be paid a commissioning fee that was any more than what any of the musicians who would play the piece would be paid for playing it. I really admire him.

In this work “Voices and Piano”, the pianist is performing along with recordings of voices or speech – as the performer, how does the electronic/recorded part of the work influence/affect how you approach your part?

As the piano part is derived completely from the sound of each recording and voice, part of the initial work is trying to hear what Peter heard in the quality of the voice (or sometimes the noise artifacts of the recording itself) so that you can create the overall sound and affect of each piece. I think arriving at an interpretation involves making decisions primarily about sonority and the overall dynamic structure – I'm trying to achieve something relative to the voice which is not quite “accompanying,” not quite “blending,” but finding a kind of balance-point where the combination of the parts allows them to be experienced simultaneously so that something new is revealed through their comparison. 

My initial impulse when I first worked on the pieces was to try to match the piano part to the voice as closely as possible (rhythmically, dynamically, etc.). After working with Peter I appreciate the ways in which the alignment between the two elements is less “realistic” and more “pixellated” – the piano is basically an equal-tempered grid of an instrument, while a voice is totally fluid. So the relationship between the two has something in common with Chuck Close's portraits, or earlier pointillist/divisionist approaches to representation in the visual arts, where we see the “reality” of what's seen simultaneously with the “grid” of our own perception. 

You will be performing this program in Chicago as well as in New York – in a work like this with a static electronic part, how much variety do you try to bring to your own part from performance to performance?

Another thing that I really value in Voices and Piano is the form, which is one that very rare in the music world – it's an archive. There are currently over 50 pieces, and as a result the cumulative duration is far too long to be played in a single concert. As a performer, then, your first responsibility is actually curatorial: you choose which voices to present, and thereby which individuals, communities, and points of view to represent in a given performance. 

For that reason, I feel like there are all these voices already present in the piece, and I'm not really trying to draw focus away from them onto myself. I think I'd feel compelled to generate variety for myself only if I were bored with the music, and on the contrary, given the difficulty of the task, I'm completely immersed in it and it takes the entirety of my focus. Every performance is naturally different without my having to intend the details of that in any way; it's great like that!

How does your experience as both a composer and performer influence how you interpret the music of Ablinger?

It helps me put my performer ego aside and so that I can try just to serve the idea. As a composer, I see what he's going for, and I see and value the beauty of it, and I recognize that it's likely best served by a performance that's neutral, by and large. If my presence in the room dominates over the recorded voice, the balance between the elements that's necessary for them to blend into a third, composite structure would be lost. And so I have to resist the impulse to be “expressive” or dynamic in traditional ways, as that will actually make the piece as a whole less expressive.

TransCentury Media reviews Solomiya Ivakhiv's Mendelssohn CD

Mendelssohn’s success in the concerto form is much clearer: his two piano concertos and E minor violin concerto are repertoire standards and quite deserving of the admiration they receive. But even though Mendelssohn was a child prodigy almost on Mozart’s level (and considered on Mozart’s level in his own time), these concertos did not simply spring into being, any more than a piano concerto such as Mozart’s No. 9, K. 271 (“Jeunehomme”) appeared without predecessors. If it is intriguing to hear Boieldieu’s piano concerto to realize the direction in which he did not develop, it is even more interesting to hear early Mendelssohn concertos for the light they shed on the direction in which he did go.

A new Brilliant Classics CD featuring Solomiya Ivakhiv, Antonio Pompa-Baldi, and the Slovak National Symphony Orchestra conducted by Theodor Kuchar, offers a rare and most welcome chance to explore two Mendelssohn concertos that are almost never heard in concert, and only rarely in recordings. The D minor violin concerto dates to 1822, when Mendelssohn was all of 13 – he really was a prodigy – and the concerto for violin and piano was written only a year later. Both are remarkably assured works, and in both there is already the easy melodiousness for which Mendelssohn was known. These pieces date to the same time as his String Symphonies, which show equal assurance and similar qualities of engaging tunes and well-crafted developments.

The heart of the violin concerto is its central movement, which is more expressive than its Andante tempo indication might lead one to expect. And as in the later E minor concerto, Mendelssohn here has the finale begin attacca after the slow movement’s conclusion. Ivakhiv does not overstate the concerto’s importance or overplay it in any way: it is basically a concerto strongly indebted to those of Mozart, but with some Mendelssohnian characteristics, and Ivakhiv and Kuchar present it with just the right light touch.

The violin-and-piano work has grander ambitions, and in it Mendelssohn somewhat overreached, based on his command of individual instruments and the orchestra at this time. The piece lasts a full 40 minutes and does not really sustain at that length. Here the first movement is the primary focus – it takes up half the work’s total length – but, again, it is the lyrical and often quite lovely second movement that is really the concerto’s heart. Yet there is a strange element to it: the highly affecting middle portion of the movement is for violin and piano alone, without accompaniment, and it almost sounds as if Mendelssohn meandered into chamber music as this section continues – until he eventually resumes the orchestral portion. Later composers were to do something similar, as Tchaikovsky did in his Piano Concerto No. 2, but in this Mendelssohn concerto there is a combination of creativity and awkwardness that is one of the few ways in which the composer’s youth seems retrospectively evident. Again, soloists and conductor approach the music with care and perform it with fine balance and without making too much – or too little – of the material. These concertos are not works of genius, but they are works of genius-in-development, and that in itself is more than enough reason to hear them.

Insider Interview with violinist Solomiya Ivakhiv

In November of 2019, the violinist Solomiya Ivakhiv releases a recording of “Mendelssohn Concertos” on Brilliant Classics (95733). In this Insider Interview we spoke to Ms. Ivakhiv about how she started playing violin, the inspiration behind recording these particular concertos and more.

How old were you when you started playing the violin?  Tell us some of your first memories of your interest in music.

According to my mother, who is a piano teacher, I sang in tune since I was 2 years old. Mom says I would repeat melodies upon hearing. At the age of 6, my parents sent me to audition at the Special Music School for Children with Extraordinary Abilities in Lviv (that is the name of the school dedicated to training very young musicians).

I thought I was auditioning to enroll as a piano student. But the auditioning committee decided the violin will be a better fit for me, so I was assigned to this beautiful string instrument. At first, my mother was upset and wanted me to switch to piano, but then decided to let me try the violin. It was a lucky coincidence and I can’t imagine my life without the violin.

Your education path was fairly unusual: raised in the Ukraine, undergraduate studies at Curtis, earned your master’s degree at the Music Academy in Lviv in Ukraine, and back to the US for your doctorate at Stony Brook University.  What differences are there between European and American pedagogy methods? What takeaways do you have from studying in these two diverse cultures?

My parents are both educators and wanted me to be exposed to both European and American schooling systems. (I also think they wanted me to have an excuse to come and visit them when I was coming to the Conservatory to take exams.)

I am very grateful for my education at Curtis and consider myself American trained. Studying with the luminaries such as late Joseph Silverstein, late Rafael Druian, Pamela Frank and Philip Setzer shaped me as a musician and made me who I am today. Also, at Curtiswe were exposed to phenomenal faculty (Gary Graffman, Ida Kavafian, Otto Werner-Mueller to name a few) as well as supremely talented fellow students. The whole atmosphere made the education at Curtis priceless, learning equally from both faculty and guest artists, as well as our peers.

My parents instilled in my brother and I the importance of higher education and reaching our furthest potentia. My father has a Doctorate and he was thrilled when the opportunity came up for me to pursue a doctorate at Stony Brook. Pamela Frank brought this idea to me and I was thrilled to continue my studies with her. It was a great way to continue my education and further my experience – it’s where I met and studied with Philip Setzer, Gilbert Kalish, Ani Kavafian and Colin Carr. Coming from a small boutique conservatory (Curtis) to Stony Brook was a shock at first. I was not used to a large campus and felt lost and out of place. But it prepared me for the University life I lead now. The Stony Brook experience was priceless and I am very grateful for it!

You lead a dual life as a concert violinist and a college professor.  How do these two aspects of your career inform one another?

I enjoy teaching very much and learn so much from my students.  I feel a strong responsibility to share the knowledge I gained from my teachers and pass it on to a new generations.

I demonstrate while teaching and try to apply what I preach into my own playing. My students appreciate the fact that I am a performing artist and they often attend my concerts. My students are also aware that performing is like breathing to me. It is a way to express both myself and the ideas and feelings the composers intended to be shared. I will admit it does get challenging at times combining performing and teaching on the scale I do. But I do like a challenge…and both are very important to me.

For your latest CD, you recorded Felix Mendelssohn’s double concerto for violin and piano in its later arrangement by the composer, with winds and timpani added to the original string orchestra version. How did you discover this arrangement, and why did you choose it over the original?

I performed the Double Concerto a number of times over the course of the past few years. I love the work! But for all of these performances I played with the string orchestra, not the full orchestra. I only learned about the existence of the full orchestra version two years ago from my colleague, the conductor Theodore Kuchar. Ted is known for finding treasures and obscure and forgotten works.  Somehow he came across the score of the full orchestra version and brought it to my attention. After doing some research, I was able to find only 3 recordings of the full orchestra. Perhaps there are more now, but at the time there were only three. So making a record with the orchestra version seemed very appealing. It does sound much fuller and richer with the full orchestra. It is a beautiful piece and I love performing it!

The other work on your new CD is an early violin concerto by Felix Mendelssohn. What drew you to this work? 

I was looking for pieces written for solo violin and chamber orchestra because I wanted to have a few pieces in my repertoire that I could perform with my students in run-out concerts. Maestro Kuchar brought that piece to my attention and suggested I make an album with this violin concerto and the double concerto on it.

Inviting Antonio Pompa-Baldi to be a part of the project was suggested by Ted as well, since Antonio and Ted have collaborated many times. A few years back Iplayed chamber music with Antonio, and I remember admiring his musicianship and talent very much. I think the three of us had a good chemistry while working on the album.

This Mendelssohn album, along with your next, forthcoming recording of works by Haydn and Hummel is part of your Singles and Doubles project. Tell us how you came up with this project, and how both of these albums figure in to it.

Ted Kuchar, again, was the source – he suggested the Hummel and Haydn Concertos to me. Ted has a talent of finding the pieces that are not overplayed and will be fresh and interesting to the listener. The combination of the instrumentation: solo violin, solo piano and orchestra was very appealing to me.

Lately I had been playing other double concertos with Dutch cellist Joachim Eijlander and American cellist Sophie Shao, and I must admit it is nice to collaborate with another instrument in concert and make music with another soloist on stage (besides the orchestra and conductor). Antonio, Ted and I recorded Haydn and Hummel on the same trip as Mendelssohn Concertos, and the Haydn and Hummel Album will be released on Centaur in spring 2020.

National Sawdust Log features Lucy Shelton and the Open G Series

Lucy Shelton:
A Gourmet Guide
to Modern Song

Words: Amber Evans

On December 15, the legendary soprano Lucy Shelton will present a “tasting menu” of composers with whom she has worked extensively over her decades of performing, including Elliott Carter, Jacob Druckman, Miriam Gideon, Shulamit Ran, and George Rochberg, as well as composers of whose works she provided the first major or complete recordings—songs by John Cage, Ruth Crawford, and Igor Stravinsky.

Now in her 75th year, Shelton is a direct link to many of the most important creative minds of the 20th century. She continues to be a proponent of musical and vocal experimentation through her performances and her extensive teaching and coaching in New York City and throughout the world.

In advance of Shelton’s performance, National Sawdust Log invited Amber Evans – an exciting young Australian soprano, conductor, and composer presently blazing her own trails as an entrepreneurial singer, collaborator, and curator in New York – to talk with Shelton about her career and the program she assembled for her recital, presented as part of a series National Sawdust hosts in collaboration with Open G Records.

NATIONAL SAWDUST LOG: My first question to you is whether you would mind giving Log readers a little bit about you that isn’t so easily found on Google?

LUCY SHELTON: Well, I think I’ve known from a very early age that my life would be in music. It was what gave me the most pleasure. It was a community. I discovered in high school, at music camp, that it was the way I best communicated: not having to find my own words, but being expressive with the music that composers had written down. I played the flute, and it was through playing the flute that I discovered. this. Plus, singing has just always been something I’ve done with my family. I come from a big family. My parents met at an amateur music camp in the ’30s. Music for all of us kids… there were five of us, and we all took piano lessons. we all had an instrument, we did a lot of family music making. So it’s always just been a fun way to be with people. [Laughs]

I’ve always loved the challenge of the newer music—I mean, it was never a separation of, “Oh, golly, now I’m going to do some new music.” It was all just a continuum. And actually, the first professional job I had was early music, with [Chorus] Pro Musica.

So, from first your first professional job being in early music, but new music always being integrated throughout your life, and it being like a gorgeous marriage – between not only the two, but also art song and opera and whatnot – how has that culminated in your National Sawdust program on Dec. 15? What inspired you to curate a program of vocal classics?

I actually asked by Jeremy Gill – who’s the partner, for this series, of Chris Grymes – to bring a program of 20th century rep. I went to my beginnings at Pomona College; there’s a reference to Pomona because Karl Kohn was the composition teacher, and on my senior recital I did songs of his. And he’s the one who introduced me to Stravinsky’s music.

You also have [Elliott] Carter on there, and Ruth Crawford Seeger….

Well, I thought of pieces that I know well. All of this is music I’ve done before, except for the Miriam Gideon selections, which are miniatures – the four songs are less than four minutes long – and the Druckman. And there’s a story behind the Druckman: I studied with Jan DeGaetani and I knew Jacob Druckman, and Jan knew him, and had premiered a lot of things of his. And I got this score, The Sound of Time, a voice and piano piece. A year after its premiere, in 1964, he orchestrated it, and so it was soprano and chamber orchestra, and that was the only version available. But I have the original piano/voice version, which was a Naumberg Foundation commission, and I think it only had the one performance in 1964, at Town Hall. I’m really excited to be doing it. It’s a fabulous piece, texts by Norman Mailer from a book of poetry that evidently wasn’t a big hit, but had some really interesting lines from his published book, Deaths for the Ladies (and other disasters).

I’m actually finding, in preparing this program, that doing pieces I’ve done before is a huge challenge, because I remember how I used to do them, when I’d kind of hear it that way, and my voice is not the same. It doesn’t sound the same, and it’s harder work to find the way to sing them now. Whereas the new pieces, I’m just doing it fresh and meeting the challenges. So it’s actually easier to work on the really difficult Druckman piece than it is to do the little “Pastorale” of Stravinsky—things that are deep-seated in me, but vocally, I’m a different age.

It’s very interesting to think about, because even I will sing pieces that I first sung 10 years ago, and not necessarily like knowing what I used to sound like then, but it’s amazing how muscle memory can just sew itself into your larynx when you come back to a piece. And having to work around that, as opposed to being able to have the advantage and the privilege of looking at something completely new and completely fresh. That’s kind of the beauty of new music, in the sense of there isn’t an integral recording tradition to associate with a lot of pieces. There isn’t necessarily a strict vocal style or idiom. And the individuality of that can be really, really great.

Yes, it’s very freeing to be doing something for the first time. I’ve always thought.

Read the entire article at this link

Take Effect blog reviews Solomiya Ivakhiv "Mendelssohn Concertos"

MENDELSSOHN

Mendelssohn Concertos

Brilliant Concerts, 2019

8/10

Listen to Violin Concerto

Spearheaded by violinist Solomiya Ivakhiv, this installment features Mendelssohn’s ‘other’ Violin Concerto and the Double Concerto for Violin, Piano and Orchestra.

Concerto for Violin and String Orchestra in D minor MWVo3 starts with “Allegro”, where string acrobatics in the elegant yet adventurous opening keeps our attention for entire 9+ minutes of sweeping melody, and “Andante” follows with a calmer setting of graceful beauty. “Allegro” then ends this portion with plenty of skilled interplay between the instruments as swift playing aligns with a strong orchestral backdrop.

The 2nd portion of the disc, Concerto for Violin, Piano and Orchestra MWVo4 starts with “Allegro”, where nearly 20 minutes of lush, cinematic sounds dance around the respective instruments with intimacy and allure, while “Adagio” trims the volume back to quaint, lovely setting where twinkling keys add much to the formula. “Allegro Molto” ends this chapter with skittering piano on the quick paced and emotionally forceful exit.

Amazingly, these pieces were penned by Mendelssohn when he was just an early teenager, and Ivakhiv, along with Antonio Pompa-Baldi on keys and Theodore Kuchar conducting the Slovak National Symphony Orchestra, interpret the classics sublimely with their respective talents.

Travels well with: Solomiya Ivakhiv- Ukraine: Journey To Freedom; Joseph Silverstein- Roman Carnival

Classics Today reviews Orli Shaham "Mozart Concertos"

Marvelous Mozart From Orli Shaham and David Robertson

Review by: Jed Distler

Just about everything in this husband-and-wife Mozart concerto collaboration is ideal. For starters, the microphone placement captures Orli Shaham’s beautifully regulated Steinway and the St. Louis Symphony Orchestra in perfect balance, where both full-bodied tuttis and fleeting solo-instrument details clearly emerge. Secondly, and more importantly, the chamber-like sonic perspective extends to the music making.

Shaham’s enlivening inflections in the G major K. 453 concerto’s first movement interact with the woodwinds with fetching conversational flow. While Robertson minimizes string vibrato in the Andante, he avoids eliciting the kind of threadbare tone and mincing dynamic exaggerations that are stock-in-trade mannerisms of the period performance movement. Both conductor and pianist happily render the finale variations in a fluid alla breve tempo, as opposed to the relatively regimented four-beats-to-a-bar feeling evoked in the Robert Casadesus/George Szell stereo traversal.

Like Casadesus, Shaham favors Saint-Säens’ flashy yet effective cadenza for the C minor K. 491’s first movement, but plays it with more authority and force. The Larghetto conveys an appropriately tender and lyrical mood while showcasing Shaham’s masterful finger legato. Here one might argue that her phrasing is controlled and calibrated to the point of being foursquare, in contrast to the shapely variety that Alfred Brendel brought to his reference recording with Charles Mackerras. Yet Shaham more than compensates in the finale, where variety of tone and expression most definitely characterizes her detaché articulation: For example, note the uncommon urgency of the first variation’s descending chromatic patterns, or the tension informing Shaham’s ever-so-slight elongations in the coda.

The booklet contains an extensive discussion with Shaham, Robertson, and scholar Elaine Sisman that delves into fascinating performance-related issues and historical perspectives. Strongly recommended.

Lucy Shelton describes her 20th century 'tasting menu' program at National Sawdust

On Sunday, December 15 at 7:00 p.m. Lucy Shelton performs a ‘tasting menu’ of 20th century songs at National Sawdust (80 N 6th St, Brooklyn, NY). Tickets available here. This is a special opportunity to hear Shelton perform an entire recital of works that made her the legendary soprano she is. In advance of the show, presented by Chris Grymes’ Open G Series, here’s what the legendary soprano has to say about the menu.

When first asked to bring a program of mostly twentieth-century song to National Sawdust, I was flooded with sound-bites of Carter, Babbitt, Wuorinen, Schwantner, Harbison, Mamlok, Cage, Stravinsky, Ives, Rochberg, Baley, Druckman, Persichetti, Hindemith, Goehr, Henze, Knussen, Messiaen, Gideon, Laderman, Kohn, Rorem, Del Tredici, Albert, Primrosch, Crumb, Benson, Britten, Dallapiccola, Rehnqvist, Saariaho…to mention just a few, ha!! Gracious me — how on earth could I ever make the choices? But with the help of a few discussions and reading sessions with Jeremy Gill, tonight's program began to find its focus. Putting it into a MENU format gave me the opportunity to play with grouping the many short works into meaningful juxtapositions as follows:

AMUSES BOUCHES
Here are the “teasers” to the meal. Stravinsky’s Pastorale is a vocalise, with a charming open-air feel, which I sing as an invitation to join me in tonight’s event. It is followed by two works which signal that this program does not shy away from the unusual: John Cage’s unique work where the pianist never plays on the piano keys, but only on the lid and the frame; and the first of the George Rochberg selections, Black Tulips, where the pianist plays inside the piano as well as on the muted keys. The vocal writing is mostly “non vibrato” which adds to the eerie sound world of the piano writing. With Stravinsky’s Counting Song we are abruptly reminded of the “normal" piano sound, with repeated notes and glissandi, which underscores the simple setting of the lyrics (a traditional nonsense rhyme for a children’s game). I get to shout at the end - but the pianist gets the last word, playing a sweet refrain.

SOUPES
In this set the tastes become more emotionally complex. Stravinsky’s Spring (At the Cloister) is the longest song of his output [a total of 19 songs - all of which I recorded, paired with Elliott Carter’s complete songs, in 1997 on a KOCH International Classics CD no longer available] and offers time to reflect on the scene at the monastery. The ringing of bells is brilliantly depicted in the piano writing preceding the daughter of the bell-ringer’s heartfelt confession of unhappiness. The following sequence of Rochberg songs (with texts by his son, Paul - who cut his life short) opens with a defiant “I am baffled by this wall”, a more contemporary look at unhappiness. Spectral Butterfly and All my life are miniatures packed with coloristic detail for both singer and pianist. In the closing Sacre du Printemps all boundaries are removed, allowing primitive energies to be fully expressed - picture the ballet!

SALADES
Calm is restored with Elliott Carter’s Voyage. [My first performance of this was in 1972 when studying with Jan De Gaetani at Aspen.] There is a nobility and tenderness in this setting of Hart Crane which I find comforting. But not wanting to get too serious just yet, it is followed by Stravinsky’s very last song,The Owl and the Pussy-Cat, written for his wife Vera in 1965. The charming text is set in 2-part counterpoint with the piano always playing in octaves, resulting in a sophisticated simplicity. Another animal song, Pig is by Karl Kohn, [the composition faculty member at Pomona College when I studied there]. This animal reference has to do with a need to lose weight, or else be compared with the sacrificial pig at the Catalan St. Martin’s Day feast! The final song is also from Kohn’s Resplendent Air, [a cycle of 5 songs dedicated to me], and is a sublimely delicate setting about women sleeping.

ENTRÉES
And now for the protein course! Jacob Druckman’s The Season of Time was a Naumburg Foundation commission written in 1964. I suspect that the piano part was considered un-playable, because Druckman orchestrated it immediately and it has only been heard in that version since. [I believe this performance will be only the second performance of the soprano and piano original! My copy of the score (unavailable from the publisher) was from my mentor Jan De Gaetani’s library, and has beckoned to me since the 1980’s.] It is a spectacular continuous song cycle inspired by nine short segments of Norman Mailer's only book of poetry. The Two Ricercare by Ruth Crawford which follow are also rarities seldom performed. [I recorded them in 1997…] They are settings of political protests written by a Chinese immigrant in 1931 which Crawford read in a newspaper. They are hard-core in both text and music, being aggressive soap-box fare. The messages are clear, and important to hear...

DÉSERTS
Sweets are needed at this point in any meal, but especially after such a hearty main course! The Miriam Gideon miniatures gently bring thoughtful texts to life after which the sensuous Love’s Call by Shulamit Ran serves us molten chocolate cake! [This work was a 2016 commission from SongFest.] And finally we come full circle back to Stravinsky and childhood, with a hushed lullaby and Three Children’s Songs- all about birds. I hope you are not over-stuffed, and found pleasures in this feast of song!!

Lucy Shelton interviewed on WWFM

On December 15 at 7:00 PM, Chris Grymes’ Open G Series at National Sawdust presents the legendary vocalist Lucy Shelton. Ms. Shelton's performance features a ‘tasting menu’ of short works by composers with whom she has worked extensively, including Elliott Carter, Jacob Druckman, Miriam Gideon, Shulamit Ran, and George Rochberg; as well as composers whose works she provided the first major or complete recordings of — songs by Ruth Crawford Seeger and Igor Stravinsky.

In advance of this performance at National Sawdust, Lucy Shelton spoke to Ross Amico of WWFM about the repertoire she chose for what Ms. Shelton is calling her “Feast of 20th Century Song” recital. In this clip Ms. Shelton discusses the timely issues of racial identity that are dealt with in Ruth Crawford Seeger’s “Two Ricercare”.

December 15, 2019 at 7:00 pm

Chris Grymes' Open G Series at National Sawdust:

Soprano Lucy Shelton

A Feast of 20th Century Song

National Sawdust

80 North 6th St in Brooklyn

Tickets are $29 for general admission, and are available at nationalsawdust.org or (646) 779-8455

Atlanta's "11 Alive" features Defiant Requiem and Hours of Freedom

On December 5, 2019 at 7:00 pm The Defiant Requiem Foundation performs Hours of Freedom: The Story of the Terezín Composer. Hours of Freedom is a concert-drama that showcases music by fifteen composers imprisoned in the Theresienstadt Concentration Camp (Terezín) during World War II. The performance is at the Ahavath Achim Synagogue (600 Peachtree Battle Ave NW, Atlanta). Admission is free; reservations are required by November 30 at this link. This performance is the featured 2019 Fran Eizenstat and Eizenstat Family Memorial Lecture.

Thanks to Candace Schilling of Ahavath Achim Synagogue for her work in securing this interview.

Red Pillows in Conversation with Roland Colton

At the beginning of Forever Gentleman, struggling architect and pianist, Nathan Sinclair, encounters the glamourous and beautiful heiress, Jocelyn Charlesworth. What draws Nathan to Jocelyn, and how does she respond to him when they first meet?

Although he has no expectation of an introduction, Nathan is intrigued enough to see if Ms. Charlesworth’s beauty is as extraordinary as the Sunday Times portrays it. Despite his protestations, the mistress of the estate insists on introducing Nathan to Jocelyn.  Once he observes her beauty firsthand, an intoxication of senses sweeps over him—never before has he seen a woman of such unimaginable beauty. Jocelyn’s reaction to Nathan is one of boredom, having endured countless stares from past star-struck suitors. She toys with him, looking for any opportunity to end the interview. Once she believes him to be a common servant, she rebukes him publicly, appalled that a servant would have the audacity to seek her acquaintance.

Nathan also meets the simple and plain social worker, Regina Lancaster. What’s special about Regina, and why does Nathan feel such a deep connection to her?

Though her outward appearance is ordinary, Nathan initially feels a strong attraction to Regina’s eyes and senses a kindred spirit.  Her dark brown eyes convey a journey through unspeakable tragedy, resulting in a deep appreciation for life and depth of character. Nathan is also attracted to Regina’s modesty, simplicity and inner beauty, qualities he admired in his mother. Once he learns of Regina’s selfless service to London orphans, he wonders if any man could possibly be worthy of her.

Music plays an important role in the story and in Nathan’s life. How do the musical elements in the novel tie together the themes in Forever Gentleman?

Nathan’s life has been steeped in music since his operatic mother gave birth to him. His pianistic bravado opens the door of London Society, and he becomes comfortable in a world far different than his humble abode. The music in Forever Gentleman accompanies the story as a soundtrack does a movie, enhancing both drama and mood. Women are attracted to Nathan’s musical genius, fostering love and romance in the story.

The Victorian Era was a time of contradictory wealth and poverty, along with great change, in England. What drew you to write a story set in this time period in history?

I’ve always been intrigued by a world where great beauty and brilliance could exist in the midst of poverty and misery.  While writing the story, I imagined what it would have been like to have lived in both worlds, as does Nathan in the story.  Also interesting is the sanitation miracle that occurred in the 1860’s, pulling London literally out of the squalor and stench of rotting pipes and sewer overflow into a world free of cholera and other dread diseases. And I wanted the timing of my story to coincide with the advent of the modern piano and creation of some of my favorite compositions.

How would you describe your writing process? And can you tell us about some of the research you did when you were writing Forever Gentleman?

My writing recipe involves equal amounts of struggle and ease. Sometimes the words flow in abundance; other times, I labor over every word in a sentence. I try not to let my writing get in the way of the story, and my goal was to have the reader lose himself or herself in Victorian London.  Many hundreds of hours were spent in research in my attempt to evoke the sights, sounds and smells of that bygone time. I strove for authenticity in events and venues, including authentic references to concerts, plays, performers and other events depicted in the book. I wanted to capture the times as they were, which is no small task when we live in a world far removed from that melancholy era.

Are you working on another novel? If so, what can you tell us about it?

Yes, I’m writing a new novel that highlights another passion of mine—my love for the sport of baseball. The book begins in 1911, highlighting the exploits of the wonder of the baseball world, Ty Cobb. Using newspaper reports from the time, the reader experiences some of the most incredible sports feats ever accomplished, usually thanks to the genius and skill of Mr. Cobb. After the opening chapters, a hit-and-run accident victim is discovered in modern times (with a face damaged beyond recognition), who purports to be Ty Cobb, mysteriously transported into the future. As the plot continues, this mystery man eventually shows exceptional baseball talent and ultimately plays a brand of baseball unlike anything in modern times, turning the sports world on its head. Is it possible that this baseball ace is truly Ty Cobb, or is it some imposter who has taken upon his attributes?  Only time will tell.

5 Stars for Roland Colton's "Forever Gentleman"

Heather Osborne
***** (5/5 Stars)
July 2, 2016

Forever Gentleman by Roland Colton is a historical fiction novel chronicling the fortunes, and misfortunes, of Nathan Sinclair. Nathan is a talented architect, and sometimes musician, living in London in the 1860s. Yet, all is not well for young Mr. Sinclair. He faces a debt thanks to a client who has been unable to pay, leaving him at the mercy of a loan broker. Still, Nathan does not despair, though he desperately seeks to pay off his debt. Then, while giving an impromptu concert at the home of a wealthy aristocrat, Nathan runs into a startlingly beautiful woman. Little does he know, his encounter with Jocelyn Charlesworth will change his life drastically, and force Nathan to choose between true love and the fulfillment of all his wildest dreams. All the while, outside forces and unexpected encounters threaten the life of our main character. Will he manage to come out of it on the side of honor, or greed?

It has been some time since I found myself swept away in a piece of historical fiction. Mr. Colton brings his readers directly into the world of the wealthy and the poor, delineating the distinctions with great dexterity. I loved that the main story was told from Nathan’s perspective, as I could really get into his head. Still, the ending surprised me and deviated from what I usually expect in historical novels of this type. I wasn’t sure if I liked Nathan at times, as he seemed to seek fame more than honor, but this gave him a flaw. I appreciated that he wasn’t perfect, and it made me empathize with his plight. Forever Gentleman by Roland Colton is not a novel to rush, but each page is to be savored as he paints a delicate picture of Nathan’s life, while still keeping the plot balanced. Easily one of the best books I have read so far this year.

Cleveland Classical interview with andPlay

andPlay @ Kent State’s Vanguard New Music Series 

November 19, 2019 by Mike Telin

When the duo andPlay — Maya Bennardo, violin, and Hannah Levinson, viola — were in Cleveland to perform on the Re:Sound Festival last summer, ClevelandClassical.com critic Jarrett Hoffman wrote that “Bennardo and Levinson played with obvious chemistry, genuinely at ease with one another in the kind of way that just makes an audience feel good.”

On Thursday, November 21, andPlay will return to Northeast Ohio for a performance on the Kent State Vanguard New Music Series. The 7:30 pm concert in Ludwig Recital Hall will include Leah Asher’s Letters to My Future Self (2018), Clara Iannotta’s Limun (2011), Anthony Vine’s Terrain (2019), Scott Wollschleger’s Violain (2017), and the premiere of a new work by Adam Roberts. The event is free.

I caught up with the duo by telephone and began our conversation by asking how their invitation to Kent came about.

Hannah Levinson: Adam Roberts teaches at Kent. We played a piece of his a few years ago, so that’s how we met him, and since then we’ve become friends. When he went to Kent he wanted to bring us there, so we commissioned this new piece from him. He introduced us to Noa Even, who runs the Re:Sound Festival. But it was a coincidence that we ended up going to the Festival, and it was very funny when we realized that it was the same Noa.

Mike Telin: Please say a few words about the piece.

Maya Bennardo: It’s a two-movement piece, and we previewed one the movements back in October.

HL: It was nice that we played something of his before because he was able to incorporate what he knows about us as players and people into the piece. It feels like all the motifs are being stretched. They are repeated and become more intricate, and the patterns are expanded in different ways. It creates a large and thick texture.

MB: There are interweaving patterns — like taking a fabric and pulling it so you can see through it a little bit. 

HL: With our commissions, it’s about finding people who will write something that sounds like more than just two string instruments, and Adam’s piece does that. It creates a multi-layered, complex, and powerful work.

MT: Congratulations on your new album playlist on New Focus Recordings. Will you be performing any works from that recording?

Read the rest of the interview at this link

New York Music Daily reviews Vasco Dantas at Carnegie Hall

Picturesque Brilliance and Rare Treasures at Vasco Dantas’ New York Debut

by delarue

“Feel free to create your own story for each of these preludes,” pianist Vasco Dantas encouraged the big crowd who’d come out for his New York debut at Carnegie Hall yesterday. Playing from memory for the better part of two hours, he gave them a panoramic view from five thousand feet. The music didn’t need titles or explanations: whatever was there, he brought out in stunning focus.

The most highly anticipated part of the program comprised a very rarely performed, pentatonically-spiced suite, Portuguese composer Luis de Freitas Branco’s 10 Preludios. Interspersing these World War I vintage pieces with five from Debussy’s 1910 Book 1 might well seem ludicrous on face value. But in a particularly sharp stroke of programming, Dantas had rearranged them so that, at least for those familiar with the French composer, there was never a question as to who was who.

And Branco’s music in many ways is more Debussy than Debussy himself: what a discovery! An Asian influence, often gamelanesque, sometimes mystical, was ubiquitous, as were close harmonies that sometimes reached an aching unresolve. Taking his time to let the narratives unfold, Dantas revealed a lullaby cached inside the ripples of Branco’s first prelude, followed by the vigorously waltzing, chiming incisiveness of the second.

The first of the Debussy works, The Sunken Cathedral, was also a revelation in that the pianist bookended its opulent languor and nebulous mysticism around a sternly rhythmic midsection: this was one striking edifice rising from the depths! Other delightful Debussy moments abounded, particularly the deviously blithe song within a song in What the West Wind Saw, and the momentary fish out of water amidst the sun-splattered ripples of Sails.

The rest of the Branco preludes glittered with minute detail. Spare, wintry impressionism moved aside for sharp-fanged, modally-tinged phantasmagoria and a slightly muted mockery of a march. The most dramatic interlude was in Branco’s Modern Ride of the Valkyries, its grim chromatics bordering on the macabre. The most technically challenging was the Preludio No. 5, Branco’s own relentlessly torrential counterpart to Debussy’s famous hailstorm shredding the vegetation.

Dantas brought equally telescopic brilliance to an old favorite of the Halloween repertoire, Moussorgsky’s Pictures at an Exhibition. Yet not once did he go over the line into grand guignol: he left no doubt that this was a requiem. Who would have expected the carnivalesque creepiness of The Gnome to be dignified, and balanced, with just as much quasi-balletesque grace? The Old Castle may be a familiar horror theme, but Dantas’ insistently tolling low pedal notes left no doubt that this was in memory of a most original friend.

There were a few points where Dantas brought the menace to just short of redline – those were truly mad cows! – but otherwise, this was about poignancy and reflection. Dantas’ unwavering, perfectly articulated, otherworly chattering phrases in Ballet of the Unhatched Chicks were spine-tingling. The contrasts between the elegant Samuel Goldenberg and his lumbering namesake from the boondocks were striking yet sympathetic. Similarly, the grief in Dantas’ vast, desolate interpretation of The Catacombs was visceral, as was the unexpectedly distant horror of Baba Yaga. And he drew a straight line all the way back to Beethoven with the long crescendos and false endings after the whirling, evilly gleeful peasant dance in The Great Gate of Kiev.

After a series of standing ovations, he encored with his own gleaming, moodily Chopinesque arrangement of the Burnay Fado, from his home turf, complete with sparkly ornamentation mimicking a Portuguese twelve-string guitar. Let’s hope this individualistic rescuer of obscure and forgotten repertoire makes it back here soon.

ConcertoNet reviews Vasco Dantas Carnegie Hall Debut

Pictures at an 18th Century Salon

New York
Weill Recital Hall, Carnegie Hall
11/17/2019 -  
Luis de Freitas Branco: Ten Prelúdios
Claude Debussy: Préludes, Book I
Modeste Mussorgsky: Pictures at an Exhibition

Vasco Dantas (Pianist)

“Rosalind: O coz, coz, coz, my pretty little coz, that thou
didst know how many fathom deep I am in love! But
it cannot be sounded: my affection hath an unknown
bottom, like the bay of Portugal

William Shakespeare, As You Like it

Oh, Christ! it is a goodly sight to see
What Heaven hath done for this delicious land!
What fruits of fragrance blush on every tree!
What goodly prospects o’er the hills expand!!

George Gordon Byron, Childe Harold’s Pilgrimage

When hearing that a Portuguese pianist was giving a recital this afternoon, my heart soared like Lord Byron’s poetry, printed above, on his first visit to Lisbon. Would Maria João Pires, my absolute favorite Chopin performer, be finally coming to New York?

Alas, Ms. Pires was not on board. But her fellow Lusitanian, Vasco Dantas, was giving his New York premiere here, playing the music of a noted Portuguese musicologist and composer, one Luis de Freitas Branco. Mr. Freitas Branco was a tabula branco to me as was Mr. Dantas, but his youthful countenance was belied by an amazing two-page synopsis of his experience.

Experience which grew from a Portuguese childhood and studies in London, Paris and Germany to a remarkable number of concerts on virtually every continent. Add to this a program totally based on musical pictures, with ten preludes by an unknown Portuguese composer...

And the setting? The gorgeous baroque Weill Recital Hall, its crystal chandeliers and ivory-colored curlicued walls, were the settings of Portugal itself in its golden 17th Century apogee, the same architecture which can be seen in parts of Macao today.

(“Same”, so long as the barbarian Las Vegas casino-owners haven’t torn it down.)

Back to the music and Mr. Dantas. First, One could say that he played 30 different pieces in his two-hour recital. After the intermission, Mussorgsky’s Pictures. Before that, Mr. Dantas introduced the music of Freitas Branco, by alternating Debussy’s Book One Préludes with the Portuguese ten Prelúdios.

This was not a bad choice. True, Debussy, who lived from 1862-1918, was a generation above Freitas Branco, from 1890-1955. But the latter was a fairly conservative composer, and his “exotic” passages–whole tone melodies, faintly Asian melodies–had been Debussy trademarks long before that.

Mr. Dantas, with his slightly formal words and his swallowtail jacket, played both composers with limpid assurance. One doesn’t think of his fine technique, because he was always searching for the melodic undercurrent. Nothing was idiosyncratic in the Debussy, and preludes like The Engulfed Cathedral and Sails were taken with great assurance.

Mr. Freitas Branco has a few quirky titles (The Modern Ride of the Valkyries and Rapido, Grande Virtuosidade), but his works dovetailed on Debussy’s. A moderate Kind of Moderato was followed by an impetuous Animato. A sentimental Molto moderato was followed later by a Moto perpetuo etude.

They were all very pleasing, didn’t have an iota of traditional fado tears, and showed the mark of a craftsman, frequently inspired by hints of genius.

In a moment of his own programming genius, Mr. Dantas didn’t end with a bang, but with the delicious whispers of Debussy’s Minstrels.

One can never have enough of Pictures at an Exhibition, for those who can master its massive music. Mr. Dantas did this in style. I can’t say that I could form an image from each picture, but it was terrific music. Yes, I wanted to see more contrast between “rich Jew and poor Jew”, and the Ballet of the Unhatched Chicks was heavier than the surrealistic title.

Yet that was Mr. Dantas’ choice, and he made good use of it. The final Great Gate of Kiev was played with all the power necessary, ending (prior to an encore of variations on a Portuguese song) with a triumphant set of flourishes.

By the way, the Great Gate of Kiev never existed. Like Mr. Trump’s Wall, it existed only in the mind. Painter Hartmann, composer Mussorgsky and pianist Dantas built it up to sheer power and monumental grandeur.

Harry Rolnick

New York Classical Review reviews Daedalus Quartet at Baruch PAC

Daedalus Quartet captures emotional depths of music by exiles

By Eric C. Simpson

It’s no secret that not all great performances happen in the biggest concert halls. This is especially true in the realm of chamber music, where a library or a small lecture hall is a more apposite setting than an auditorium built for thousands.

Just east of Madison Square Park, the Baruch Performing Arts Center hosts an impressive variety of musical programming in two small theaters underneath Baruch College’s main campus. On Tuesday evening, the talented Daedalus Quartet offered a program of works whose authors were all political exiles, forced by violence to leave their home countries.

As powerful as that idea is, it was the depth of the pieces themselves, rather than any thematic connection among them, that stood out in Tuesday’s concert. 

The evening began with the Third String Quartet of Viktor Ullmann. Ullmann, who was later killed at Auschwitz, wrote the quartet while a prisoner at Terezin, and the piece conveys deep emotions, even if they are not always obvious.

Open harmonies in the bars that begin the first movement feel bright but betray deep sadness, and Daedalus here brought a warm, full sound, breathing together from the start. The music proceeds with a waterfall-like flow, its apparent serenity interrupted by interludes of agitated arpeggios and nervous tremolos. In the scherzo, a waltz, at once playful and macabre, brings much harsher tonality and acid harmonies.

Long, slow, heavy breaths in the Largo are followed by a feeling of unease in the closing Rondo, where quiet tremolos create keen anticipation. Daedalus brilliantly captured the emotional ambiguity that makes the music at once so penetrating and uncomfortable.

Introducing his string quartet, Babel, Gabriel Bolaños explained that he had been born “in exile,” to use his phrase, his family having fled from Nicaragua to Colombia during the Sandinista Rebellion, just before his birth. Each of Babel’s five movements is a portrayal in music of particular features of languages to which Bolaños feels a personal connection. His musical language, though heavily gestural and reliant on extended technique, does feel expressive—though what exactly it expresses is a mystery. Overall, the piece is difficult to follow, even with program notes hinting at the ideas behind each movement.

“Spanish” presents little flashes of sound in short, disjointed phrases made up of glissandos, ricochets, and harmonics. In “English + Chinantecan,” the violins and the viola brush the strings while the cello traces a lonely melody. In “Nuxálk,” fierce pizzicato lines among the upper strings interlock in frantic conversation with each other while the cello scrapes a long, pitchless tone. The jumble of all these voices, each struggling to be heard in “Greenlandic,” gives way to a slow, chilly crawl towards resolution in “Vowel Harmony.”

The program’s second half consisted of the profound Piano Quintet by Mieczysław Weinberg, who fled Poland for the Soviet Union at the start of the Second World War. Joined by pianist Renana Gutman, Daedalus gave a gorgeous, rich reading of this emotionally complex piece.

After an abortive start when second violinist Matilda Kaul’s instrument slipped out of tune, Daedalus and Gutman began beautifully, with a warm pulse of strings supporting the piano’s haunting, discursive melody. There is a composed focus in the music of this first movement, conveying a sense that fraught emotions hide just below the surface. In spite of the hall’s dry acoustic, the musicians managed to achieve a full sound through rich dynamic definition.

The Allegretto brought just a hint of a springing dance step before ending in an astonishing hush, but a more exuberant romp came out in the boisterous waltz of the Presto, where there was a hint of comedy in the melodramatic melancholy of the dance. 

The most substantial movement of the five is the Largo, which unfolds in a deliberate but arresting development of ominously resonating chords. In it we hear the most emotional intensity and complexity of the quintet, as it passes through a number of musical ideas in succession. Out of the initial gloom emerges a wandering violin cadenza, in which Min-Young Kim channeled a folk spirit. Suddenly there appears a bright E-major chord in the piano that glides into an airy reverie in which longing, contentment, and sadness all mix together.

After the many subtle emotions of the Largo, it was a shock to hear the aggressive, gritty start of the Allegro agitato, which moves into something like an Irish reel. Daedalus and Gutman gave exuberant, heart-racing performance of the finale to finish off an impressive evening of challenging music.

Baruch Performing Arts Center’s next chamber event is 7:30 p.m. November 20, when the Alexander String Quartet performs works by Shostakovich, Mozart, and Mendelssohn. baruch.cuny.edu

Take Effect Reviews andPlay "playlist"

ANDPLAY

Playlist

New Focus, 2019

8/10

Listen to Playlist

andPlay is the duo of violinist Maya Bennardo and violist Hannah Levinson, and on Playlist the pair deliver the work of David Bird, Clara Iannotta and Ashkhan Behzadi with precision, mystery and a whole lot of varied sounds.

“Crescita Plastica” starts the listen with almost sci-fi sounding strings, as dramatic tension is met with adventurous ideas and cautious manipulation, and “Bezier” follows with a similar approach where a cinematic quality invades the unpredictable setting that’s playful, textured and sometimes vulnerable.

The back half of the listen offers “Limun”, which, at over 7 minutes, is the shortest tune but no less impactful with acrobatic swells of sharp violin, and “Apocrypha” ends the listen haunting and with electronics, as the balance between digital and organic unfolds with ingenuity.

Though this is their debut as andPlay, Bennardo and Levinson have both been involved in many other outfits. Together, however, their dynamic sensibilities and keen sense of song craft collide with an inimitable, extraordinary performance.

Travels well with: Hilary Hahn & Hauschka- Silfra; Joshua Bell- Voice Of The Violin

Blogcritics reviews Alon Goldstein at Baruch PAC

Concert Review: Pianist Alon Goldstein (NYC, 22 Oct. 2019)

Jon Sobel

Pianist Alon Goldstein performed an era-spanning program of animated piano music at the Baruch Performing Arts Center (BPAC) Oct. 22. Beginning with four selections from his large Scarlatti arsenal, he also offered thoughtful and frequently amusing commentary on the music. When a musician talks directly to the audience, it lightens the formal air that tends to hang over classical music, and that’s all to the good for listeners and artists alike.

Domenico Scarlatti’s astoundingly imaginative sonatas – there are 555 of them – can speak for themselves, of course. And I always appreciate hearing how different keyboardists interpret these works by a composer born in 1685, the same year as J.S. Bach.

Goldstein took a middle ground between the clockwork formalism some pianists apply to this music – perhaps in an effort to evoke the lesser dynamics of the harpsichord for which it was written – and the more romantic approach exemplified by Vladimir Horowitz.

Goldstein read K. 11 with pensive delicacy, carefully delineating each note while weaving a smooth imaginative tapestry out of the whole. Slightly excessive speed made K. 159 a little less satisfying, with overly distracting tempo breaks necessitated by quick changes in hand positions. But aside from that, his rubatos and tempo changes felt emotionally valid. Light, judicious use of the sustain pedal in K. 324 brought the harpsichord heritage to mind. The set closed with K. 120, whose over 100 hand crossings require almost superhuman dexterity and earned the pianist rousing applause.

Moving on to Beethoven, Goldstein first demonstrated the world of color differences produced by different keys, playing for a moment the opening bars of the “Moonlight” Sonata in C minor, instead of the unusual key of C sharp minor that the composer chose. The latter key gave it, in Goldstein’s words, “a color no one expected or heard before.”

He chose a relatively quick tempo for that famous opening movement. The effect, for me, was to suggest the music’s connection to the baroque lineage of J.S. Bach. I’d never thought about this before when hearing – or playing, as I did too often as a young piano student – this beloved and indeed over-played piece. It also brought to mind the songfulness of Mendelssohn and Schubert. I found it a really enlightening interpretation of a movement that’s often performed so slowly that it lands heavily on the soul.

The crisp syncopated rhythms of the second movement were equally effective. But the tempo got ahead of good intentions in the third movement’s piled-up arpeggios, which at times got muddy under the sustain pedal.

Stunning clarity returned in Janáček’s agonized Piano Sonata 1.X.190 “From the Street.” This protest piece from 1905 carries a painful sting, and Goldstein wielded it with force and precision. Moments of calm proved illusory amid the stormy first movement (“Foreboding”). The more solemn second (“Death”) only brought more pain in Goldstein’s insightful reading, though some relief as well after the first movement’s gut punch.

Wisely, he followed up with two Debussy Preludes. These carry their own unpredictable drama but in a dreamy style, full of airy colors and kaleidoscopic clusters.

The concert closed with impressive showpieces courtesy of Alberto Ginastera, the 20th-century Argentine composer whose work seems to be turning up on concert programs everywhere these days. Even the titles are fun: “Dance of the Old Herdsman” was racy and playfully intense, “Dance of the Delicate Maiden” softly romantic with delicate dissonances. Finally, assertive high spirits ruled in the tightly wound virtuosity of “Dance of the Arrogant Gaucho.”

For an encore, Goldstein gave us something perfect for a New York City audience: a piano transcription from Leonard Bernstein’s “Age of Anxiety” Symphony, loaded with wild pianistic jazziness and played masterfully. Visit Alon Goldstein’s website for upcoming concerts and BPAC’s site for its busy season of cultural events.

World Music Report reviews andPlay "playlist"

logo-WMR.png

andPlay: Playlist

By Raul da Gama

Ashkan Behzadi – Crescita PlasticaDavid Bird – Bezier; ApocryphaClara Iannotta – Limun

andPlay is Maya Bennardo: vn and Hannah Levinson: va

In a rather audacious complaint, pianist and contemporary composer Thomas Larcher once posited that to him, the piano’s natural sound was “of something  worn out, obsolete, at a dead-end” and said that this led to his desire to attempt to resuscitate it through a wholly new “sound” through his work need never apply to violinist Maya Bennardo and violist Hannah Levinson performing as andPlay. The string duo has simply re-invented the sound of their instruments – played separately and in harmony with each other. They have, of course, had the benefit of being given a leg up by three brazen composers who have imagined what this “newly invented sound” would be like once music was created out of it.

But creating dissonance and stringing up discordant notes into musically acceptable phrases on paper is no guarantee that such precocious imaginings would work in practice. Interpreting it successfully not one – it appears – but at least twice by this duo is the other – missing – piece. And so, positioning themselves in creative conflict with age-old protocols about how string instruments should be played, and dispensing with travelling a naturally well-worn road Miss Bennardo and Miss Levinson have chiseled their performances into something provocative and unique on this repertoire on Playlist.

Throwing out the dead and, in Mr Larcher’s words that which seems “worn out” and “obsolete” the duo ends up throwing overboard melodic, structural and harmonic hooks that have become expressively blunted by overuse and built music from what might – or might not – be left. In doing just so, the duo has enabled the brave new worlds of Ashkan Behzadi, David Bird and Clara Iannotta to come to life not in the musical traditions that we expect but with a new definition of beauty central to their new artistic credo.

With those composers, then, Miss Bennardo and Miss Levinson argue against the “beauty” of overly perfumed, audience-ingratiating beauty typical of commercial music and in favour of “authentic beauty”. This often evokes the German word Geräusch – meaning noise, but in a sense of natural noise such as perhaps the wind blowing through trees or representative of an icy dulled chill in the scenario of a narrative to shepherd these works without compromising their newly declared elementally “beautiful” sound-world.

Released – 2019
Label – New Focus Recordings (fcr 233)
Runtime – 48:04