Although music and ballet lovers today may find it difficult to believe, Tchaikovsky’s The Nutcracker is a relative newcomer to the American holiday tradition. Although it had its premiere in St. Petersburg in December of 1892, its first American performance did not occur until 1944, when a wartime San Francisco Ballet staged a production choreographed by William Christensen. Ten years later in 1954, George Balanchine choreographed his historic New York City Ballet version that is still performed. A version for the American Ballet Theatre by Mikhail Baryshnikov premiered in 1976, and was subsequently filmed with Gelsey Kirkland as Clara.
While I have attended the New York City Ballet and the American Ballet Theatre productions in years past, not to mention several Nutcrackers by regional companies, there is no finer interpretation, performance, and staging than the current San Francisco Ballet production choreographed by SF Ballet Artistic Director Helgi Tomasson. This production was taped last December by KQED and aired on PBS on December 18th. See pbs.org for future air dates.
There are a couple of reasons for the success of this production in my view. First, the sets by Michael Yeargan, and the costumes by Martin Pakledinaz are stunning, theatrical, and entertaining. Yeargan used the San Francisco 1915 Panama Pacific International Exhibition as his visual model and it works beautifully. However, what I found most intriguing was its theatrically logical scenario—unlike the Balanchine and Baryshnikov versions, Clara remains a little girl instead of the casting of a major ballerina costumed in a child’s dress. Also, Clara re-awakens at the end of Act II back in her living room, believing it to be just a dream…but not quite sure. The New York City Ballet version never returns her to her home; Act II ends with Clara exiting on a magical sleigh—an interpretation that always left me cold.
The San Francisco Ballet Orchestra, conducted by Martin West, is excellent. Try to view this one if you can.
Friday, December 19, 2008
Monday, December 15, 2008
This Week: KSO Holiday Concerts
My preview of the KSO Holiday Concert appears in the December 18th issue of Metro Pulse.
And…the review of the concert is online here.
Thanks for reading, and Happy Holidays!
And…the review of the concert is online here.
Thanks for reading, and Happy Holidays!
Wednesday, December 3, 2008
UT Holiday Choral Concert: No Room in the Inn
If you managed to find a seat in the Cox Auditorium for the University of Tennessee Holiday Choral Concert on Tuesday evening, you were one of the lucky ones. But more on that later.
Four UT music ensembles took part in the concert: the Women’s Chorale, the Men’s Chorale, the Chamber Singers, and the Concert Choir. Although the very entertaining concert covered a broad range of holiday music—traditional carols to P.D.Q. Bach—I will mention a few of the highlights. Frank La Rocca’s 2003 work, O magnum mysterium, was beautifully sung by the Chamber Singers under Angela Batey. The most interesting piece of the evening was an intriguing arrangement of Silent Night performed with the addition of sign language by the Concert Choir. After the familiar verse was established with a solo by Cody Boling, the choir dispersed across the risers and the stage. The arrangement then turned into the appearance of random polyphony, still with each choir member continuing the signing of their own part. Hard to describe, really.
It was obvious as attendees arrived for the concert, that there was not enough room in the Cox Auditorium to accommodate both the choir members (who must sit in the audience prior to their time to perform) and the audience of students and the vast number of non-student visitors. Prior to starting, Dr. Batey, noting the unexpected turnout, had to encourage the audience to free-up untaken seats so that some of the standees could find seats. The key word here is expectations.
While academic performance programs will continue whether ten people show up—or hundreds—there are obvious benefits to achieving as large a following as possible. Obviously, it motivates the performers. But of equal importance, it expands the sense of the vitality of the local cultural scene. If properly positioned, UT Music with its quality performances, should have no reason not to expect substantial audiences from now on.
Four UT music ensembles took part in the concert: the Women’s Chorale, the Men’s Chorale, the Chamber Singers, and the Concert Choir. Although the very entertaining concert covered a broad range of holiday music—traditional carols to P.D.Q. Bach—I will mention a few of the highlights. Frank La Rocca’s 2003 work, O magnum mysterium, was beautifully sung by the Chamber Singers under Angela Batey. The most interesting piece of the evening was an intriguing arrangement of Silent Night performed with the addition of sign language by the Concert Choir. After the familiar verse was established with a solo by Cody Boling, the choir dispersed across the risers and the stage. The arrangement then turned into the appearance of random polyphony, still with each choir member continuing the signing of their own part. Hard to describe, really.
It was obvious as attendees arrived for the concert, that there was not enough room in the Cox Auditorium to accommodate both the choir members (who must sit in the audience prior to their time to perform) and the audience of students and the vast number of non-student visitors. Prior to starting, Dr. Batey, noting the unexpected turnout, had to encourage the audience to free-up untaken seats so that some of the standees could find seats. The key word here is expectations.
While academic performance programs will continue whether ten people show up—or hundreds—there are obvious benefits to achieving as large a following as possible. Obviously, it motivates the performers. But of equal importance, it expands the sense of the vitality of the local cultural scene. If properly positioned, UT Music with its quality performances, should have no reason not to expect substantial audiences from now on.
Friday, November 28, 2008
More on Gerard Mortier
I previously wrote on Flemish impresario Gerard Mortier backing out of his deal to run New York City Opera.
Then, this story appeared in Opera News Online concerning his acceptance of a position at Madrid's Teatro Real.
Then, this story appeared in Opera News Online concerning his acceptance of a position at Madrid's Teatro Real.
Wednesday, November 26, 2008
Hard Times?
Yesterday’s announcement from the Chattanooga Symphony and Opera that they would be suspending their 2009-2010 opera season was a local reminder of the general turmoil swirling around arts organizations everywhere on a far too regular basis as of late.
Of obvious mention is the case of the New York City Opera. Gerard Mortier, the Flemish general director of the Opéra National de Paris, was to take over as General Director of the New York City Opera. There had been grand promises of revolutionizing New York’s opera scene, not the least of which was the final shove to get long-desired renovations underway of the acoustic black hole that is the New York State Theatre in Lincoln Center. With the theatre closed, the company was relegated to biding their time this season with concerts scattered around New York City and a concert performance of Samuel Barber's Antony and Cleopatra at Carnegie Hall.
Such a move, although unquestionably necessary, irrevocably diluted the company’s physical and financial inertia that was shaky at best. Promises of $60 million for the first year of productions dissolved with the announcement that fundraising had fallen drastically short. And with only as much as $36 million being available, Mortier announced that he could not operate under those financial constraints. While the situation is somewhat more complex—it was discovered that Mortier and Nike Wagner, Richard Wagner's great-granddaughter, had put forward plans to run the Bayreuth Festival—this leaves New York City Opera in the worst of all positions and makes impossible their dream of competing with the Met across the plaza.
While Mortier’s lack of true commitment is now painfully obvious, adventurous opera-goers were sighing about what could have been. Mortier had already commissioned for the company an opera by Charles Wuorinen based on Brokeback Mountain and one by Philip Glass on Walt Disney. In addition, Mortier was pushing a revival of Glass’s Einstein on the Beach and a first-ever staging of Messiaen's St. Francois d'Assise.
The disappointments had begun to pile up. Opera Pacific’s board of directors cancelled the remainder of its 2008-2009 season (Ricky Ian Gordon’s The Grapes of Wrath and Salome) citing “the downturn in contributions to the organization that is a direct reflection of the challenging financial times the world is facing.”
Hopefully, the opera and music world can ride out the storm without the wolves taking any more victims.
Of obvious mention is the case of the New York City Opera. Gerard Mortier, the Flemish general director of the Opéra National de Paris, was to take over as General Director of the New York City Opera. There had been grand promises of revolutionizing New York’s opera scene, not the least of which was the final shove to get long-desired renovations underway of the acoustic black hole that is the New York State Theatre in Lincoln Center. With the theatre closed, the company was relegated to biding their time this season with concerts scattered around New York City and a concert performance of Samuel Barber's Antony and Cleopatra at Carnegie Hall.
Such a move, although unquestionably necessary, irrevocably diluted the company’s physical and financial inertia that was shaky at best. Promises of $60 million for the first year of productions dissolved with the announcement that fundraising had fallen drastically short. And with only as much as $36 million being available, Mortier announced that he could not operate under those financial constraints. While the situation is somewhat more complex—it was discovered that Mortier and Nike Wagner, Richard Wagner's great-granddaughter, had put forward plans to run the Bayreuth Festival—this leaves New York City Opera in the worst of all positions and makes impossible their dream of competing with the Met across the plaza.
While Mortier’s lack of true commitment is now painfully obvious, adventurous opera-goers were sighing about what could have been. Mortier had already commissioned for the company an opera by Charles Wuorinen based on Brokeback Mountain and one by Philip Glass on Walt Disney. In addition, Mortier was pushing a revival of Glass’s Einstein on the Beach and a first-ever staging of Messiaen's St. Francois d'Assise.
The disappointments had begun to pile up. Opera Pacific’s board of directors cancelled the remainder of its 2008-2009 season (Ricky Ian Gordon’s The Grapes of Wrath and Salome) citing “the downturn in contributions to the organization that is a direct reflection of the challenging financial times the world is facing.”
Hopefully, the opera and music world can ride out the storm without the wolves taking any more victims.
Tuesday, November 25, 2008
Knoxville Symphony Orchestra Bloggers Night
The KSO is offering a pair of free tickets for the January 15, 2009 Masterworks concert to the first 50 bloggers who respond by January 14, 2009 and agree to blog about their KSO concert experience. The KSO will also be hosting a reception for the bloggers following the concert.
Anyone interested in this intriguing offer should email Stephanie S. Burdette, KSO Director of Communications, or telephone her at 865-521-2317.
The January Masterworks concert will feature Bach's Brandenburg Concerto No. 3; Mozart's Piano Concerto No. 24 with pianist Navah Perlman; and Felix Mendelssohn's Symphony No. 4 ("Italian").
Ouch in Chattanooga
This story on the Chattanooga Symphony and Opera suspension of opera production appeared in the Chattanooga Times Free Press. Times are hard all over.
Here is the news release from the Chattanooga Symphony and Opera website—"CSO Board Votes to Suspend 2009-2010 Opera Season."
Here is the news release from the Chattanooga Symphony and Opera website—"CSO Board Votes to Suspend 2009-2010 Opera Season."
Monday, November 17, 2008
Review: UT Opera's STREET SCENE
This review can now be found in the November 20th issue of Metro Pulse or click here for the online page.
Thanks for reading!
Thanks for reading!
Sunday, November 16, 2008
The Armed Man: A Mass for Peace
In all the performances I have attended by the Knoxville Choral Society, I have never been disappointed by their choral prowess. This excellent group full of marvelous and dedicated ensemble singers under the direction of Eric Thorson, have what every choral group aspires to—balanced sections with rich sonorities across the range of voices, that intangible quality of ensemble togetherness, and a precise control of diction combined with both vocal power and vocal subtlety.
Their performance of Karl Jenkins’ The Armed Man: A Mass for Peace was no exception. The Jenkins instrumental score—minimalist at times, almost classical at others—was engaging and intriguing in its variety of instrumental tone combinations. The choral performance was crisp and powerful; the soloists excellent—Barbara Metzger’s beautiful treble solo in the Kyrie, Shauntina Phillips, and the quartet of Jennifer Bruce, Nancy Middlemas, Keith Wheeler, and David Smith.
Despite the excellent performances and the emotional importance of the piece’s premise, it distresses me to report that the evening was anything but emotional. In fact, the word "clinical" comes to mind. How can a performance be so competent, on a piece so intriguing, and yet end up so unfulfilling?
Had this been just me, I might have written off my unfortunate vision as Scrooge tried to do to “a crumb of cheese, a fragment of an underdone potato.” But audience members, young and old, to my left and right were nodding off. A lady in front of me was quite asleep, head drooped, only to be painfully jerked awake by a percussion crash.
What was lacking for the audience in the evening’s performance was not choral excellence, but drama… and, dare I say it, theatricality. Success of The Armed Man not only needs dramatic ambiance, it cries out for it. Although I am sure there were substantial reasons that the Lecture Hall was chosen for the event, it was quite unsuitable for this production. Because of the seating area’s shallow rake, stage visibility was impaired. While the acoustics of the room were adequate, it lacked rich resonance to support a great choral ensemble. Most importantly, the hall’s design, obviously unintended for such performances, lacked the necessary controlled lighting to provide highlights and focus for the audience's eyes. The entire room found itself in a slightly-dimmed, enervating muddle of even illumination that made it virtually impossible to build (or for the audience to feel) dramatic tension and apprehension.
The use of projected war-related imagery, which has been an important feature of other productions of the work, seemed almost an amateur afterthought. The room’s projection screen at the rear of the stage was partially obscured by the riser-ed chorus, diminishing the hoped-for impact of the visuals.
While it was disappointing that the full emotional potential of the Jenkins work was not realized due to factors of venue and production, the KCS event was still a magical choral performance of a statement that needs to be made—and often.
Their performance of Karl Jenkins’ The Armed Man: A Mass for Peace was no exception. The Jenkins instrumental score—minimalist at times, almost classical at others—was engaging and intriguing in its variety of instrumental tone combinations. The choral performance was crisp and powerful; the soloists excellent—Barbara Metzger’s beautiful treble solo in the Kyrie, Shauntina Phillips, and the quartet of Jennifer Bruce, Nancy Middlemas, Keith Wheeler, and David Smith.
Despite the excellent performances and the emotional importance of the piece’s premise, it distresses me to report that the evening was anything but emotional. In fact, the word "clinical" comes to mind. How can a performance be so competent, on a piece so intriguing, and yet end up so unfulfilling?
Had this been just me, I might have written off my unfortunate vision as Scrooge tried to do to “a crumb of cheese, a fragment of an underdone potato.” But audience members, young and old, to my left and right were nodding off. A lady in front of me was quite asleep, head drooped, only to be painfully jerked awake by a percussion crash.
What was lacking for the audience in the evening’s performance was not choral excellence, but drama… and, dare I say it, theatricality. Success of The Armed Man not only needs dramatic ambiance, it cries out for it. Although I am sure there were substantial reasons that the Lecture Hall was chosen for the event, it was quite unsuitable for this production. Because of the seating area’s shallow rake, stage visibility was impaired. While the acoustics of the room were adequate, it lacked rich resonance to support a great choral ensemble. Most importantly, the hall’s design, obviously unintended for such performances, lacked the necessary controlled lighting to provide highlights and focus for the audience's eyes. The entire room found itself in a slightly-dimmed, enervating muddle of even illumination that made it virtually impossible to build (or for the audience to feel) dramatic tension and apprehension.
The use of projected war-related imagery, which has been an important feature of other productions of the work, seemed almost an amateur afterthought. The room’s projection screen at the rear of the stage was partially obscured by the riser-ed chorus, diminishing the hoped-for impact of the visuals.
While it was disappointing that the full emotional potential of the Jenkins work was not realized due to factors of venue and production, the KCS event was still a magical choral performance of a statement that needs to be made—and often.
Wednesday, November 12, 2008
The KSO Principal Quartet
Small ensembles that come into existence because the members are part of a larger group are inherently at a disadvantage, it seems. Although all may be excellent musicians—although all may be willing participants—that participation almost always appears a little forced. This can manifest itself in many ways, from a slight unease to a palpable tension, or even to a visible hostility on stage. These symptoms almost always foretell bad music making, and isn’t really surprising. Independent ensembles choose themselves—orchestra ensembles do not.
For these reasons, it is all the more remarkable when an orchestra ensemble actually coalesces into a musically viable group. Such was the case in last Sunday’s concert of the KSO’s Principal Quartet—Edward Pulgar and Sean Claire, violins; Kathryn Gawne, viola; and Andy Bryenton, cello. If one uses the definition of a successful quartet as four voices speaking with one mind, then they have arrived beautifully and with distinction. However, this praise comes with a few comments and qualifications.
The concert opened with Giacomo Puccini’s I Crisantemi (Chrysanthemums). This is a lovely and delightful piece of music full of sweet sadness. Puccini apparently thought so too, for he reused some of the melodies in his opera Manon Lescaut. Searching distant memory of a far away place, I am almost certain I have heard this piece played in an orchestral version. This wouldn’t be surprising as the piece is as much of a tone piece for four string sections as it is a string quartet. That isn’t necessarily a negative—it just is what it is.
As far as the other works on the program, the Mozart Quartet in D Major for Strings, K. 499, and the Smetana Quartet No. 1 in E Minor…
while the performance was not without flaws, what was not lacking was the sense of true and dedicated ensemble playing—playing with a restrained energy that lurked just below the musical surface, ready to burst forth into the open, which it did at just the right moments. Technical mistakes can always be corrected by good players. Mismatched personnel, as we have seen in the past, cannot.
For these reasons, it is all the more remarkable when an orchestra ensemble actually coalesces into a musically viable group. Such was the case in last Sunday’s concert of the KSO’s Principal Quartet—Edward Pulgar and Sean Claire, violins; Kathryn Gawne, viola; and Andy Bryenton, cello. If one uses the definition of a successful quartet as four voices speaking with one mind, then they have arrived beautifully and with distinction. However, this praise comes with a few comments and qualifications.
The concert opened with Giacomo Puccini’s I Crisantemi (Chrysanthemums). This is a lovely and delightful piece of music full of sweet sadness. Puccini apparently thought so too, for he reused some of the melodies in his opera Manon Lescaut. Searching distant memory of a far away place, I am almost certain I have heard this piece played in an orchestral version. This wouldn’t be surprising as the piece is as much of a tone piece for four string sections as it is a string quartet. That isn’t necessarily a negative—it just is what it is.
As far as the other works on the program, the Mozart Quartet in D Major for Strings, K. 499, and the Smetana Quartet No. 1 in E Minor…
while the performance was not without flaws, what was not lacking was the sense of true and dedicated ensemble playing—playing with a restrained energy that lurked just below the musical surface, ready to burst forth into the open, which it did at just the right moments. Technical mistakes can always be corrected by good players. Mismatched personnel, as we have seen in the past, cannot.
Saturday, October 25, 2008
KSO All-Tchaikovsky
This review, All Tchaikovsky, All The Time is available online at MetroPulse.com.
Wednesday, September 24, 2008
One or Two Things About the Fifth
There were several important things that came through loud and clear at last Sunday’s UT Symphony performance of Beethoven’s Symphony No. 5 in C minor and Brahms’ Academic Festival Overture.
The first of these is how critical, if not absolutely essential, a fearless interpretation of dynamics is to performances of Beethoven. Too often, Beethoven symphonies just end up sounding ponderous and heavy without the presence of a rational, calming influence. Conductor James Fellenbaum had his orchestra moving brilliantly with the ebb and flow of the symphony in ways that were, at times, surprising in their subtlety, and then, refreshing in their strength. I was particularly impressed with how Fellenbaum had not sacrificed demanding dynamic shifts or subtlety of details just for the sake of getting through a first-of-the-year concert. An example of this detail would be the solid performance from the woodwinds who constantly surprised me with their attention to nuances of tone color. Volume can mask a lot of things, but rapid dynamic shifts—fortissimo to piano, for example—can just as quickly reveal them. The violins in the Beethoven may have learned a valuable lesson in this regard by the fourth movement. The few bobbles aside, the orchestra really showed this listener their definite professional abilities.
Secondly, I was impressed at how the passion and enthusiasm of an excellent conductor and teacher can be absorbed by orchestra members who are being motivated to achieve more than just adequacy. And in an orchestra that has the natural year-to-year personnel turnover issue of a university ensemble, this is even more meaningful.
The UT Symphony’s next concert will be Sunday, October 19, and will feature guest violinist Alexander Kerr in a performance of the Beethoven Violin Concerto. Tchaikovsky’s Capriccio Italien is also on the program.
The first of these is how critical, if not absolutely essential, a fearless interpretation of dynamics is to performances of Beethoven. Too often, Beethoven symphonies just end up sounding ponderous and heavy without the presence of a rational, calming influence. Conductor James Fellenbaum had his orchestra moving brilliantly with the ebb and flow of the symphony in ways that were, at times, surprising in their subtlety, and then, refreshing in their strength. I was particularly impressed with how Fellenbaum had not sacrificed demanding dynamic shifts or subtlety of details just for the sake of getting through a first-of-the-year concert. An example of this detail would be the solid performance from the woodwinds who constantly surprised me with their attention to nuances of tone color. Volume can mask a lot of things, but rapid dynamic shifts—fortissimo to piano, for example—can just as quickly reveal them. The violins in the Beethoven may have learned a valuable lesson in this regard by the fourth movement. The few bobbles aside, the orchestra really showed this listener their definite professional abilities.
Secondly, I was impressed at how the passion and enthusiasm of an excellent conductor and teacher can be absorbed by orchestra members who are being motivated to achieve more than just adequacy. And in an orchestra that has the natural year-to-year personnel turnover issue of a university ensemble, this is even more meaningful.
The UT Symphony’s next concert will be Sunday, October 19, and will feature guest violinist Alexander Kerr in a performance of the Beethoven Violin Concerto. Tchaikovsky’s Capriccio Italien is also on the program.
Sunday, September 7, 2008
Review: Faculty Recital of Clarinetist Gary Sperl
As a preface to my comments on the recital, I would like to weigh in on the viability of the Music Hall Auditorium as a proper recital space. In short, it’s not.
This is not a new revelation. I have long thought, time after time, that this hall has its own brand of acoustic muddiness, particularly the unfortunate and peculiar ability to smear treble ranges into an indiscernible mass. This means that any hope of a clear brilliance of tone combined with rich resonance is virtually impossible, no matter the performer, instrument, or ensemble. In addition, (and I have no scientific data to support this) the hall seems to have the ability to suck the life out of even the most energetic of performances, vocal or instrumental, even to the point of destroying intangible qualities like musicality. It is irritating to be held hostage in this way—hostage to the mental adjustments one must make to compensate for what one knows one should be hearing, particularly from soloists and small ensembles. I have no idea whether the future re-building plan is to include a new performance space, but…it should—for everyone’s sake.
When Mr. Sperl introduced the last work on his recital, Divertimento (for 3 clarinets and bass clarinet) by the Viennese composer Alfred Uhl, he related the story of a performance of the piece he did in Milwaukee some years ago. A writer reviewed the performance, according to Sperl, and stated that the Divertimento was, in his opinion, just as good as any string quartet. Excellent praise, but it led me to think—what qualities make up a good quartet?
In general, a good quartet possesses the ability to speak as one mind, but with four distinct voices. And this applies not only to the quartet as a musical work, but also to the quartet as four musicians. In this regard, both Uhl’s Divertimento and Mr. Sperl and his colleagues (Erin Bray and Christine Thomas, clarinets; Benjamin Gessel, bass clarinet) succeeded tremendously. However, (recalling my opening remarks about the hall) I would have preferred to feel more confident that the musicians were actually four distinct voices speaking with one mind. There seemed to be an excess of tone blending, even for a clarinet ensemble. That said, the Uhl piece is laden with charm and filled with diverse little entertaining moments which the quartet accomplished with obvious attention to careful phrasing and the impact of tempo changes.
Johannes Brahms had all but announced his retirement from composition when he was captivated by the playing of Richard Mühlfeld, principal clarinetist with the orchestra at the Court of the Duke of Saxe-Meiningen…captivated enough to write four chamber works for clarinet, the Trio and the Quintet, followed by the two Clarinet Sonatas a few years later. It was with the first of the two sonatas, the Opus 120, No. 1 in F minor, that Mr. Sperl opened his recital.
Mr. Sperl moved brilliantly through the arc of the sonata from the austerity of the opening Allegro through the peaceful Andante to the exuberance of the closing Vivace, keeping richness of tone and vibrant dynamic control throughout. My one complaint with this performance was that the pianist, Judith Bible, seemed to be relegated to the role of accommodation rather than supplying a creative collaborative voice as Brahms history with the instrument would tend to indicate.
-------------------------
In Part II of this post:
Sonata for Clarinet and Harp – Jean Michele Damase
Sholem-alekhem, rov Feidman – Kovács
Hora Stacatto – Dinicu-Heifetz
This is not a new revelation. I have long thought, time after time, that this hall has its own brand of acoustic muddiness, particularly the unfortunate and peculiar ability to smear treble ranges into an indiscernible mass. This means that any hope of a clear brilliance of tone combined with rich resonance is virtually impossible, no matter the performer, instrument, or ensemble. In addition, (and I have no scientific data to support this) the hall seems to have the ability to suck the life out of even the most energetic of performances, vocal or instrumental, even to the point of destroying intangible qualities like musicality. It is irritating to be held hostage in this way—hostage to the mental adjustments one must make to compensate for what one knows one should be hearing, particularly from soloists and small ensembles. I have no idea whether the future re-building plan is to include a new performance space, but…it should—for everyone’s sake.
When Mr. Sperl introduced the last work on his recital, Divertimento (for 3 clarinets and bass clarinet) by the Viennese composer Alfred Uhl, he related the story of a performance of the piece he did in Milwaukee some years ago. A writer reviewed the performance, according to Sperl, and stated that the Divertimento was, in his opinion, just as good as any string quartet. Excellent praise, but it led me to think—what qualities make up a good quartet?
In general, a good quartet possesses the ability to speak as one mind, but with four distinct voices. And this applies not only to the quartet as a musical work, but also to the quartet as four musicians. In this regard, both Uhl’s Divertimento and Mr. Sperl and his colleagues (Erin Bray and Christine Thomas, clarinets; Benjamin Gessel, bass clarinet) succeeded tremendously. However, (recalling my opening remarks about the hall) I would have preferred to feel more confident that the musicians were actually four distinct voices speaking with one mind. There seemed to be an excess of tone blending, even for a clarinet ensemble. That said, the Uhl piece is laden with charm and filled with diverse little entertaining moments which the quartet accomplished with obvious attention to careful phrasing and the impact of tempo changes.
Johannes Brahms had all but announced his retirement from composition when he was captivated by the playing of Richard Mühlfeld, principal clarinetist with the orchestra at the Court of the Duke of Saxe-Meiningen…captivated enough to write four chamber works for clarinet, the Trio and the Quintet, followed by the two Clarinet Sonatas a few years later. It was with the first of the two sonatas, the Opus 120, No. 1 in F minor, that Mr. Sperl opened his recital.
Mr. Sperl moved brilliantly through the arc of the sonata from the austerity of the opening Allegro through the peaceful Andante to the exuberance of the closing Vivace, keeping richness of tone and vibrant dynamic control throughout. My one complaint with this performance was that the pianist, Judith Bible, seemed to be relegated to the role of accommodation rather than supplying a creative collaborative voice as Brahms history with the instrument would tend to indicate.
-------------------------
In Part II of this post:
Sonata for Clarinet and Harp – Jean Michele Damase
Sholem-alekhem, rov Feidman – Kovács
Hora Stacatto – Dinicu-Heifetz
Friday, September 5, 2008
Something for Everybody
Check out the September 4th issue of Metro Pulse for my article Music for the Masses, a subjective look at some highlights of the upcoming 2008-2009 KSO season.
Monday, August 25, 2008
Time To Travel
Arriving in the mailbox last week was an attractive brochure for this season’s UT Music Department Faculty Chamber Music Series—Time to Travel. The series will consist of three concerts—September 14, November 2, and February 8—all in the James R. Cox Auditorium on the UT campus at 4pm. The concerts are free.
To be featured in the September concert, “Far Away Places,” will be an eclectic mix of works performed by an equally eclectic mix of faculty performers: Variations on an Original Theme for Organ Duet by Barrie Cabena; Benjamin Britten’s Canticle II: Abraham and Isaac; Ballade Carnavalesque by Charles Loeffler; and Libby Larsen’s The Astonishing Flight of the Gump.
This appears to be a solid offering of works that one doesn’t get the opportunity to hear very often, if at all—and certainly not live. The website for the series is--
http://www.music.utk.edu/chamberseries.html
To be featured in the September concert, “Far Away Places,” will be an eclectic mix of works performed by an equally eclectic mix of faculty performers: Variations on an Original Theme for Organ Duet by Barrie Cabena; Benjamin Britten’s Canticle II: Abraham and Isaac; Ballade Carnavalesque by Charles Loeffler; and Libby Larsen’s The Astonishing Flight of the Gump.
This appears to be a solid offering of works that one doesn’t get the opportunity to hear very often, if at all—and certainly not live. The website for the series is--
http://www.music.utk.edu/chamberseries.html
Monday, July 14, 2008
On the Road to the New World
At this point in the summer, unless you live in one of the major cities, you may be jonesing for some classical music about now. While New York City may drip with perspiration in July and August, it also drips with opportunities for music listeners. This summer there’s the Mostly Mozart Festival, the New York Philharmonic in the parks, the Lincoln Center Festival in the recently restored Park Avenue Armory, the River to River Festival, the Summergarden at MOMA—just to name a few—as well as a host of others a short train ride away. Chicago has its Grant Park Music Festival; San Francisco has its Summer in the City. The Boston Symphony’s summer home is the delightful Tanglewood. And of course, Los Angeles has its Los Angeles Philharmonic summer concerts at the Hollywood Bowl.
In between the coasts one can satisfy their cravings at New Mexico’s Santa Fe Opera; Colorado’s Central City Opera, Aspen Music Festival, and Crested Butte Music Festival; and the long-running Ravinia Festival in Highland Park, Illinois. So much to see and hear, and unfortunately, so far to go.
In an attempt to satisfy my own cravings, I ventured the two-and-a-half hours to Brevard, North Carolina, home of the Brevard Music Center and its Summer Institute and Festival. I picked a performance by the Transylvania Symphony of Dvorak’s “New World” Symphony, Prokofiev’s Suite from Lieutenant Kijé, and Copland’s Suite from Billy the Kid. What I didn’t know was that the Music Center had instituted the practice of naming the various orchestras and ensembles with rather non-descriptive titles. Along with the Transylvania Symphony, the Music Center offers the “Brevard Sinfonia”, “BMC Orchestra,” “Chamber Winds,” and the “Brevard Brass.”
First, the bad news. Consciously omitted from the Music Center’s season brochure was the information that the “Transylvania Symphony” was actually the high school age students attending the Summer Music Institute.
Now the good news—they were really very good. In fact, the young orchestra was at least as good or better than many of the regional orchestras I have heard recently. This is not to say that there weren’t a few bobbles, tentative entrances, and mysterious tempos. But overall, the performances were excellent, especially considering the 14–18 age group. I was particularly struck by the excellence of the string sections. Of note, too, was a nicely played english horn in the Largo of the Dvorak, although the tempo was far from largo--altogether too fast and somewhat mechanical. The conductor was Steven Smith, the Director of Orchestral Activities.
For those interested in a de-mystification of the different ensemble names at Brevard, the “BMC Orchestra” is comprised of Music Center’s instrumental faculty filled out with advanced students and led by Keith Lockhart or by special guest conductors. The “Brevard Sinfonia” is comprised of the Music Center’s advanced students, college age and older.
A point here is this. Cities like Knoxville would benefit from some kind of summer music series, if for no other reason than to avoid the loss of inertia and continuity won over the course of a regular season. While some local orchestra members play elsewhere for the summer (see The Italian Job in Metro Pulse), the majority of the players would probably welcome the opportunity. And the city would benefit as well.
In between the coasts one can satisfy their cravings at New Mexico’s Santa Fe Opera; Colorado’s Central City Opera, Aspen Music Festival, and Crested Butte Music Festival; and the long-running Ravinia Festival in Highland Park, Illinois. So much to see and hear, and unfortunately, so far to go.
In an attempt to satisfy my own cravings, I ventured the two-and-a-half hours to Brevard, North Carolina, home of the Brevard Music Center and its Summer Institute and Festival. I picked a performance by the Transylvania Symphony of Dvorak’s “New World” Symphony, Prokofiev’s Suite from Lieutenant Kijé, and Copland’s Suite from Billy the Kid. What I didn’t know was that the Music Center had instituted the practice of naming the various orchestras and ensembles with rather non-descriptive titles. Along with the Transylvania Symphony, the Music Center offers the “Brevard Sinfonia”, “BMC Orchestra,” “Chamber Winds,” and the “Brevard Brass.”
First, the bad news. Consciously omitted from the Music Center’s season brochure was the information that the “Transylvania Symphony” was actually the high school age students attending the Summer Music Institute.
Now the good news—they were really very good. In fact, the young orchestra was at least as good or better than many of the regional orchestras I have heard recently. This is not to say that there weren’t a few bobbles, tentative entrances, and mysterious tempos. But overall, the performances were excellent, especially considering the 14–18 age group. I was particularly struck by the excellence of the string sections. Of note, too, was a nicely played english horn in the Largo of the Dvorak, although the tempo was far from largo--altogether too fast and somewhat mechanical. The conductor was Steven Smith, the Director of Orchestral Activities.
For those interested in a de-mystification of the different ensemble names at Brevard, the “BMC Orchestra” is comprised of Music Center’s instrumental faculty filled out with advanced students and led by Keith Lockhart or by special guest conductors. The “Brevard Sinfonia” is comprised of the Music Center’s advanced students, college age and older.
A point here is this. Cities like Knoxville would benefit from some kind of summer music series, if for no other reason than to avoid the loss of inertia and continuity won over the course of a regular season. While some local orchestra members play elsewhere for the summer (see The Italian Job in Metro Pulse), the majority of the players would probably welcome the opportunity. And the city would benefit as well.
Thursday, July 3, 2008
The Italian Job
You can read my summer profile of KSO principal clarinetist Gary Sperl in the July 3rd issue of Metro Pulse. It is also online-- The Italian Job at MetroPulse.com.
Wednesday, May 28, 2008
A Fiddle and a Riddle
You can read my review of the Knoxville Symphony Orchestra's final concert of the 2007-2008 season in the May 29th issue of Metro Pulse, or in the newly-designed online version of Metro Pulse. The concert featured Nicoló Paganini's Concerto No. 1 in D Major for Violin and Orchestra and Edward Elgar's Enigma Variations.
Thursday, May 8, 2008
An Afternoon with the KSCO
Although last Sunday’s concert by the Knoxville Symphony Chamber Orchestra was titled Songs of Stephen Foster, it was the other four works on the afternoon’s program that perhaps shared a broad stylistic theme. And, of the five works on the bill, only one wasn’t a KSO premiere—Sergei Prokofiev’s Symphony No. 1 in D Major (“Classical”). More on the Prokofiev a bit later.
Performing the featured works, "Eight Songs by Stephen Foster", were two young yet very talented singers: soprano Teresa Alzadon and tenor Josh Phelps. Ms. Alzadon is a current member of the Knoxville Opera Studio and was recently heard as Violetta in La Traviata and the Governess in The Turn of the Screw, both UT Opera Theatre productions. Mr. Phelps is a recent Vocal Performance graduate of UT. While Mr. Phelps and Ms. Alzadon each have their own intriguing style and approach, both captured and held the listener’s rapt attention, an essential quality for successful song performance. The song selection mixed the familiar (Mr. Phelps’ “Jeanie with the Light Brown Hair”) and the unfamiliar (Ms. Alzadon’s “Was My Brother in the Battle?”) in a way that gave a fresh view of the now iconic American songwriter.
The program opened with Façade Suite No. 2 for Orchestra by William Walton. This suite was excerpted from Walton’s own Façade, a work for a “reciter” and six instruments, which received its first performances in 1922–23, performed with the poet, Edith Sitwell. The Suite No. 2 (1938), arranged by Walton for small orchestra, has six movements that are marked by a whimsical, bouncy, jazzy style full of percussion effects and interesting little phrases for woodwinds. Its small-orchestra feel permits individual instrumental color—particularly woodwinds and trumpet—to stand out and shine. The one unpleasant area was a rough and raspy bassoon tone.
I freely confess to being a big admirer of Prokofiev’s “Classical” symphony, the Symphony No. 1 in D Major. I must also confess, then, that I was quite disappointed with this performance of it. Richman’s tempos were not excessive, nor did he appear to spring any surprises. Despite that, the orchestra seemed ill prepared throughout, but particularly in the Finale movement. Admittedly, the movement is quite the workout. The violins, perhaps rushing to keep up, began to lose intonation; the bassoon was not blending with the ensemble. This is a little sad for me, since the KSO may not get back to this piece for some time.
Maestro Lucas Richman’s own Salutation No. 5, written to honor KSO contributor Elizabeth Margriet Koester, opened the second half of the program. This was a really pleasant piece, full of intriguing contrasts. The program closed with the extremely entertaining Café Neon: Fantasy on Greek Songs and Dances by Steven Karidoyanes, which turned out to be a showcase for the considerable talents of principal clarinetist Gary Sperl.
Performing the featured works, "Eight Songs by Stephen Foster", were two young yet very talented singers: soprano Teresa Alzadon and tenor Josh Phelps. Ms. Alzadon is a current member of the Knoxville Opera Studio and was recently heard as Violetta in La Traviata and the Governess in The Turn of the Screw, both UT Opera Theatre productions. Mr. Phelps is a recent Vocal Performance graduate of UT. While Mr. Phelps and Ms. Alzadon each have their own intriguing style and approach, both captured and held the listener’s rapt attention, an essential quality for successful song performance. The song selection mixed the familiar (Mr. Phelps’ “Jeanie with the Light Brown Hair”) and the unfamiliar (Ms. Alzadon’s “Was My Brother in the Battle?”) in a way that gave a fresh view of the now iconic American songwriter.
The program opened with Façade Suite No. 2 for Orchestra by William Walton. This suite was excerpted from Walton’s own Façade, a work for a “reciter” and six instruments, which received its first performances in 1922–23, performed with the poet, Edith Sitwell. The Suite No. 2 (1938), arranged by Walton for small orchestra, has six movements that are marked by a whimsical, bouncy, jazzy style full of percussion effects and interesting little phrases for woodwinds. Its small-orchestra feel permits individual instrumental color—particularly woodwinds and trumpet—to stand out and shine. The one unpleasant area was a rough and raspy bassoon tone.
I freely confess to being a big admirer of Prokofiev’s “Classical” symphony, the Symphony No. 1 in D Major. I must also confess, then, that I was quite disappointed with this performance of it. Richman’s tempos were not excessive, nor did he appear to spring any surprises. Despite that, the orchestra seemed ill prepared throughout, but particularly in the Finale movement. Admittedly, the movement is quite the workout. The violins, perhaps rushing to keep up, began to lose intonation; the bassoon was not blending with the ensemble. This is a little sad for me, since the KSO may not get back to this piece for some time.
Maestro Lucas Richman’s own Salutation No. 5, written to honor KSO contributor Elizabeth Margriet Koester, opened the second half of the program. This was a really pleasant piece, full of intriguing contrasts. The program closed with the extremely entertaining Café Neon: Fantasy on Greek Songs and Dances by Steven Karidoyanes, which turned out to be a showcase for the considerable talents of principal clarinetist Gary Sperl.
Thursday, May 1, 2008
Berlioz Requiem
You can read my review of the Knoxville Symphony Orchestra & Knoxville Choral Society performance of Hector Berlioz' Requiem in the May 1st issue of Metro Pulse or in the online Metro Pulse. Thanks for reading.
Tuesday, April 22, 2008
The Four Faces of Violetta
One could almost feel the crackle of energy in the Bijou Theatre from the UT Opera Theatre’s production of Giuseppe Verdi’s La Traviata. There was so much energy and life that one could almost forget that Verdi’s classic heroine, Violetta, was dying of consumption. Whether this is good or bad depends largely on which side of the curtain you are on.
The story of La Traviata, based on the novel La Dame aux Camélias by Alexandre Dumas, fils, revolves around the hypocrisy of mid-19th century European society where “courtesans” like Violetta were privately embraced by the wealthy, while at the same time publicly shunned by polite society.
In this production, directed by UT Opera Theatre Artistic Director Carroll Freeman, the roles of Violetta and her lover, Alfredo, were taken by a split cast of student singers. In the performance I attended, in an almost Buñuel-esque fashion, a different Violetta sang each of the four acts: Catherine Greer, Micke Rickert, Katherine Cardin, and Leslee Poole-Adams. While the real intention of splitting the role was to give opportunities to more singers, the effect of different vocal qualities, physical appearance, and personalities added surreal overtones to otherwise straightforward theatre. Appearing as Violetta’s lover, Alfredo, was the excellent tenor Jonathan Subia. His father, Germont, was sung by the fine solid baritone, John Arnold.
The ensemble of party-goers in Acts I and III sparkled with life, but the parties themselves seemed a bit jumbled and confusing. Individual characters at the parties -- Baron Douphol, Gastone, and the Marquis, for example – were mostly indiscernible amidst the frenetic stage business. Although the singers seemed willing to step out, they always managed to get lost in the crowd. Unfortunately, this may also have been a function of the multi-leveled stepped-platform set which dictated how the crowd could be staged and how they could move. Anything-but-confusing, however, was Mr. Freeman’s intriguing choice to place Act III’s Violetta and Alfredo in the extreme downstage right and left, separating them and their thoughts from the center stage crowd of party-goers.
The value of playing a four act, three hour opera cannot be over-stated for James Fellenbaum’s excellent UT Opera Orchestra. Chock full of talented players, the orchestra learned the importance of “pit stamina,” that quality of mental and physical focus that allows one to play for 3-plus hours without falling prey to fatigue. In the amazing acoustics of the Bijou, pit orchestra volume and balance can be real issues, especially for the balcony audience. Mr. Fellenbaum did an excellent job keeping that in his control.
There was so much to enjoy in this La Traviata, that one can’t help feeling unashamedly optimistic for the future of the UT Opera Theatre program. I, for one, am certainly looking forward to next year’s fare.
The story of La Traviata, based on the novel La Dame aux Camélias by Alexandre Dumas, fils, revolves around the hypocrisy of mid-19th century European society where “courtesans” like Violetta were privately embraced by the wealthy, while at the same time publicly shunned by polite society.
In this production, directed by UT Opera Theatre Artistic Director Carroll Freeman, the roles of Violetta and her lover, Alfredo, were taken by a split cast of student singers. In the performance I attended, in an almost Buñuel-esque fashion, a different Violetta sang each of the four acts: Catherine Greer, Micke Rickert, Katherine Cardin, and Leslee Poole-Adams. While the real intention of splitting the role was to give opportunities to more singers, the effect of different vocal qualities, physical appearance, and personalities added surreal overtones to otherwise straightforward theatre. Appearing as Violetta’s lover, Alfredo, was the excellent tenor Jonathan Subia. His father, Germont, was sung by the fine solid baritone, John Arnold.
The ensemble of party-goers in Acts I and III sparkled with life, but the parties themselves seemed a bit jumbled and confusing. Individual characters at the parties -- Baron Douphol, Gastone, and the Marquis, for example – were mostly indiscernible amidst the frenetic stage business. Although the singers seemed willing to step out, they always managed to get lost in the crowd. Unfortunately, this may also have been a function of the multi-leveled stepped-platform set which dictated how the crowd could be staged and how they could move. Anything-but-confusing, however, was Mr. Freeman’s intriguing choice to place Act III’s Violetta and Alfredo in the extreme downstage right and left, separating them and their thoughts from the center stage crowd of party-goers.
The value of playing a four act, three hour opera cannot be over-stated for James Fellenbaum’s excellent UT Opera Orchestra. Chock full of talented players, the orchestra learned the importance of “pit stamina,” that quality of mental and physical focus that allows one to play for 3-plus hours without falling prey to fatigue. In the amazing acoustics of the Bijou, pit orchestra volume and balance can be real issues, especially for the balcony audience. Mr. Fellenbaum did an excellent job keeping that in his control.
There was so much to enjoy in this La Traviata, that one can’t help feeling unashamedly optimistic for the future of the UT Opera Theatre program. I, for one, am certainly looking forward to next year’s fare.
Tosca: A Not-So-Shabby Shocker
In the grand tradition of melodrama, the villain was booed (and loudly bravoed) at the curtain call of last weekend’s Knoxville Opera Company production of Giacomo Puccini’s Tosca. Such is one measure of success in theatre -- the audience having been seduced, they happily surrender their inhibitions and enter that world that has been created for them.
Tosca, that “shabby little shocker,” continues to delight audiences, and there was much in this production to delight. While some aspects of the staging and physical production could have diminished the opera’s impact, they were overcome by solid musical performances, by Puccini’s musical eloquence, and by Maestro Brian Salesky’s tight musical direction.
Taking the role of the beautiful, but jealous, Floria Tosca, was soprano Jennifer Harris. Ms. Harris assumed the role when the previously cast Rosemary Musoleno had to withdraw due to illness. Ms. Harris, who is at the beginning of what should be a wonderfully successful career, has a marvelous voice. She possesses vocal strength, range, and that quality that is difficult to teach -- the potential to act with her voice. Her Act II aria “Vissi d’arte” was an example of this ability. She did seem to gloss over diction in some of her extreme high phrases, but time remedies all.
Perhaps one of the best performances of the villainous Scarpia that this reviewer has seen came from bass-baritone Daniel Sumegi, who was making his KOC debut. Mr. Sumegi was quite dominating in both dramatic and vocal performance. His stage presence is so strong that he doesn’t really have to act with his voice, but he is a special force to be reckoned with when he does. For that reason, it would be interesting to hear Mr. Sumegi in Strauss or Wagner.
Tenor Thomas Studebaker was an excellent and sympathetic Cavaradossi. His chemistry with Ms. Harris gave the love affair substance and believability. Two Act I roles of note were Daniel Berry as the prison escapee Angelotti and Michael Wanko as the Sacristan. Mr. Berry is, of course, well known to the classical radio listeners of WUOT, where he is program director and morning host. Opera seems to be full of bumbling church characters; Mr. Wanko gave his Sacristan a very nice blend of comedic religious obligation and disapproval backed up with a really fine bass voice.
It is the physical production that puts theatre into opera. Unfortunately, there were some aspects of Tosca's visual and dramatic components that were disappointing. The stage direction of David Bamberger, while serviceable, was somewhat wooden in terms of stage movement and arrangement. This seemed to leave the performers to their own devices. While this may work for the stage veterans, a young performer, such as Ms. Harris, could have used more help in movement and in dramatically motivating and constructing the role. I lay this responsibility squarely on the stage director, who also seemed content to plant Tosca and Cavaradossi concert-style for some of their duets. As another oddity, staging the Act III Shepherd Boy (Lyndon England) in front of a cloud projected scrim was puzzling to many audience members, as well as this reviewer.
Opera, being musical theatre, has special needs in terms of dramatic support for the characters – and lighting design is an absolutely essential part of that support. The lighting by John Horner, while effective at establishing the brief curtain-rise mood for the scenes, fell short in terms of overall dramatic support. Perhaps preferring safe to sorry, Mr. Horner felt obligated to overlight the characters and the acting space for the bulk of the scenes. In the Act II study of Baron Scarpia in particular, this seriously diminished both the ominous atmosphere and the dramatic tension. Had the scene been more appropriately sculpted and motivated, it would have been much more terrifying and shocking than it was.
Tosca's main themes of abuse of political power and sexual violence were hauntingly present in this production thanks mainly to Mr. Sumegi’s Scarpia. But it is the drama (dare I say melodrama) of Puccini’s far-from-shabby vocal and orchestral score that sends the audience into the night with an experience that doesn’t easily fade.
Tosca, that “shabby little shocker,” continues to delight audiences, and there was much in this production to delight. While some aspects of the staging and physical production could have diminished the opera’s impact, they were overcome by solid musical performances, by Puccini’s musical eloquence, and by Maestro Brian Salesky’s tight musical direction.
Taking the role of the beautiful, but jealous, Floria Tosca, was soprano Jennifer Harris. Ms. Harris assumed the role when the previously cast Rosemary Musoleno had to withdraw due to illness. Ms. Harris, who is at the beginning of what should be a wonderfully successful career, has a marvelous voice. She possesses vocal strength, range, and that quality that is difficult to teach -- the potential to act with her voice. Her Act II aria “Vissi d’arte” was an example of this ability. She did seem to gloss over diction in some of her extreme high phrases, but time remedies all.
Perhaps one of the best performances of the villainous Scarpia that this reviewer has seen came from bass-baritone Daniel Sumegi, who was making his KOC debut. Mr. Sumegi was quite dominating in both dramatic and vocal performance. His stage presence is so strong that he doesn’t really have to act with his voice, but he is a special force to be reckoned with when he does. For that reason, it would be interesting to hear Mr. Sumegi in Strauss or Wagner.
Tenor Thomas Studebaker was an excellent and sympathetic Cavaradossi. His chemistry with Ms. Harris gave the love affair substance and believability. Two Act I roles of note were Daniel Berry as the prison escapee Angelotti and Michael Wanko as the Sacristan. Mr. Berry is, of course, well known to the classical radio listeners of WUOT, where he is program director and morning host. Opera seems to be full of bumbling church characters; Mr. Wanko gave his Sacristan a very nice blend of comedic religious obligation and disapproval backed up with a really fine bass voice.
It is the physical production that puts theatre into opera. Unfortunately, there were some aspects of Tosca's visual and dramatic components that were disappointing. The stage direction of David Bamberger, while serviceable, was somewhat wooden in terms of stage movement and arrangement. This seemed to leave the performers to their own devices. While this may work for the stage veterans, a young performer, such as Ms. Harris, could have used more help in movement and in dramatically motivating and constructing the role. I lay this responsibility squarely on the stage director, who also seemed content to plant Tosca and Cavaradossi concert-style for some of their duets. As another oddity, staging the Act III Shepherd Boy (Lyndon England) in front of a cloud projected scrim was puzzling to many audience members, as well as this reviewer.
Opera, being musical theatre, has special needs in terms of dramatic support for the characters – and lighting design is an absolutely essential part of that support. The lighting by John Horner, while effective at establishing the brief curtain-rise mood for the scenes, fell short in terms of overall dramatic support. Perhaps preferring safe to sorry, Mr. Horner felt obligated to overlight the characters and the acting space for the bulk of the scenes. In the Act II study of Baron Scarpia in particular, this seriously diminished both the ominous atmosphere and the dramatic tension. Had the scene been more appropriately sculpted and motivated, it would have been much more terrifying and shocking than it was.
Tosca's main themes of abuse of political power and sexual violence were hauntingly present in this production thanks mainly to Mr. Sumegi’s Scarpia. But it is the drama (dare I say melodrama) of Puccini’s far-from-shabby vocal and orchestral score that sends the audience into the night with an experience that doesn’t easily fade.
Monday, April 14, 2008
UT Music: All-Handel
George Frideric Handel can be deceptively difficult. I say this as one who, in past choral days, was tortured mercilessly by Zadok the Priest. An all-Handel concert, then, can be an indicator of the performance level for a university music program, both in orchestral playing and choral performance. An April Sunday afternoon concert by the University of Tennessee Chamber Orchestra and combined choirs of the UT Chamber Singers and UT Concert Choir proved to be just that.
Conducted by retiring director of choral activities, David Stutzenberger, the forces took on Handel’s Coronation Anthem No. 4 (My Heart is Inditing); the Concerto Grosso in B Minor, Op. 6, No. 12; and the Dettingen Te Deum, HWV 283. The problem in commenting on a concert such as this is where to set the performance bar. For indeed, that bar has gone up nicely in the last few years.
My Heart is Inditing, one of four anthems written for the Coronation of King George II and the Queen consort Caroline in 1727, was performed late in the service at the point of the crowning of the Queen. Probably for that reason, it opens with a genteel Andante, rather than a ceremonially pompous fanfare. As befitting a delicate and refined quality, it opens with soloists, or in this concert, a group of singers on each part before the full choir enters. The second and third sections are interesting for the choir in that they employ rhythms (and require good choral diction) to the words “King’s daughters” and “and the King shall have pleasure…in thy beauty.” The brisk closing Allegro begins with a workout for the strings, followed by the chorus, and then – at last! – the trumpets, nicely played, with the expected pomp to close a ceremonial anthem.
The anthem was followed by the last of Handel’s Concerti Grossi of Opus 6, No. 12 in B Minor. The concertino soloists were Peter Aguilar and Rachel Grubb, violins, and Deborah Shields, cello. The concerto, conductor-less, was played solidly at a manageable, but not overly brisk, tempo. Tempo can be an issue with Baroque concerti such as this one – too slow a tempo and they become leaden and heavy – too fast and … well, you know.
The second half of the concert was devoted to Handel’s Dettingen Te Deum. While not a Te Deum in the religious sense, the work was written to commemorate the British and Austrian victory over the French at Dettingen in 1743. It consists of 18 solos and choruses, the soloists being altos, baritones, and basses. The chorus and orchestra did an excellent job, but again, tempo is important, particularly in the longer choral works such as this.
It is my feeling that there is a bit of the theatrical Handel in everything he wrote, even his religious and ceremonial works. It is this theatrical spark – Handel’s stylistic pulse -- in tempo, in phrasing, in general orchestral balance – that defines Handel’s style and makes his works exciting for contemporary audiences.
Conducted by retiring director of choral activities, David Stutzenberger, the forces took on Handel’s Coronation Anthem No. 4 (My Heart is Inditing); the Concerto Grosso in B Minor, Op. 6, No. 12; and the Dettingen Te Deum, HWV 283. The problem in commenting on a concert such as this is where to set the performance bar. For indeed, that bar has gone up nicely in the last few years.
My Heart is Inditing, one of four anthems written for the Coronation of King George II and the Queen consort Caroline in 1727, was performed late in the service at the point of the crowning of the Queen. Probably for that reason, it opens with a genteel Andante, rather than a ceremonially pompous fanfare. As befitting a delicate and refined quality, it opens with soloists, or in this concert, a group of singers on each part before the full choir enters. The second and third sections are interesting for the choir in that they employ rhythms (and require good choral diction) to the words “King’s daughters” and “and the King shall have pleasure…in thy beauty.” The brisk closing Allegro begins with a workout for the strings, followed by the chorus, and then – at last! – the trumpets, nicely played, with the expected pomp to close a ceremonial anthem.
The anthem was followed by the last of Handel’s Concerti Grossi of Opus 6, No. 12 in B Minor. The concertino soloists were Peter Aguilar and Rachel Grubb, violins, and Deborah Shields, cello. The concerto, conductor-less, was played solidly at a manageable, but not overly brisk, tempo. Tempo can be an issue with Baroque concerti such as this one – too slow a tempo and they become leaden and heavy – too fast and … well, you know.
The second half of the concert was devoted to Handel’s Dettingen Te Deum. While not a Te Deum in the religious sense, the work was written to commemorate the British and Austrian victory over the French at Dettingen in 1743. It consists of 18 solos and choruses, the soloists being altos, baritones, and basses. The chorus and orchestra did an excellent job, but again, tempo is important, particularly in the longer choral works such as this.
It is my feeling that there is a bit of the theatrical Handel in everything he wrote, even his religious and ceremonial works. It is this theatrical spark – Handel’s stylistic pulse -- in tempo, in phrasing, in general orchestral balance – that defines Handel’s style and makes his works exciting for contemporary audiences.
Tuesday, April 1, 2008
Lukas, Lucas, and Wolfgang
Despite the presence of one of the most brilliant and classic symphonies of Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart on the bill for last weekend’s Knoxville Symphony Orchestra concerts, all audience eyes and ears seemed to be focused on a work by KSO Music Director and Conductor Lucas Richman. Richman’s Concerto for Oboe and Orchestra (subtitled The Clearing ) was commissioned by the Pittsburgh Symphony Orchestra in 2004 to thank him for his service as a staff conductor and to showcase the considerable talents of its principal oboist, Cynthia DeAlmeida.
This was the first Knoxville performance of Richman’s concerto by the KSO and featured Ms. DeAlmeida as guest soloist. The work is structured programmatically around the Hebrew text of Psalm 23, with the lilting cadences becoming the basis for the oboe’s solo voice. There was no doubt that Richman’s time with the PSO gave him the knowledge of DeAlmeida’s strengths – strengths that include an articulated, yet luminous and gorgeous tone – to use as that solo voice of the concerto.
However beautiful the voice, the test of programmatic music comes in how extensively the audience must be “pre-informed” in order to completely believe the composer’s intention. I must admit to feeling rather disconnected during the orchestra-only sections, somewhat like experiencing a film blindfolded. While it was certainly possible to enjoy the orchestral sections in the absolute sense, it was the beautiful oboe voice, the centerpiece, that prevented the concerto from drifting slightly toward the esoteric.
Maestro Richman opened the concert with the Salomon Rossi Suite by contemporary German-born American composer Lukas Foss. Foss used themes by Salomon Rossi, a 17th century Mantuan particularly known for his Hebrew liturgical works. This piece, in six short movements, is a contemporary orchestral impression of Rossi’s Renaissance sound. While short in length, the suite gave many different KSO orchestral players some visibility – antiphonal passages for the brass; an impression of the Renaissance lute and drum using the modern harp and pedaled tympani; a beautiful Lento for strings; and a cheerful and driving Renaissance-like fugue for the finale.
Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart’s Symphony No. 41 in C Major, K. 551 (“Jupiter”) concluded the evening. The symphony’s nickname, “Jupiter,” while not Mozart’s inscription but probably from a music publisher, does imply a grand, god-like connection. Admittedly, it is grander and more open than his previous symphonies. But the symphony’s reputation rests on its brilliant construction that builds to an amazing contrapuntal finale.
One problem surrounding its stature is that because this symphony has been so extensively performed and recorded over the years it is almost impossible not to have stubborn ideas of how it should sound in terms of tempo and phrasing. However, performance styles are not absolute. They have evolved in several phases: as orchestras became larger, as 19th century romanticism took hold, and eventually, as sound recording impacted the concert hall. My own impression was that this performance lacked crispness in phrasing that could have been solved with a brisker tempo.
Keeping that in mind, the KSO will offer a repeat performance of the “Jupiter” at this Sunday’s Chamber Music Series Concert at the Bijou. In this case, the string sections will decrease in size and the orchestra as a whole will appear more like an 18th century orchestra. If size unconsciously impacts tempo, it will be interesting to judge the differences.
Also on that same Chamber Series program will be Mozart’s Quartet in G Minor for Piano and Strings, K. 478. Maestro Richman will himself be at the piano. Completing the quartet is violinist and KSO concertmaster Mark Zelmanovich; Kathryn Gawne, violist; and Andy Bryenton, cellist. This quartet is one of contrasts that can test the emotional flexibility of its players. The key of G minor places the quartet in a dark and somber place, but one that, hopefully, has warmth and a lyrical quality. In contrast to the dark opening Allegro, the concluding Rondo movement is delightfully playful and optimistic.
This was the first Knoxville performance of Richman’s concerto by the KSO and featured Ms. DeAlmeida as guest soloist. The work is structured programmatically around the Hebrew text of Psalm 23, with the lilting cadences becoming the basis for the oboe’s solo voice. There was no doubt that Richman’s time with the PSO gave him the knowledge of DeAlmeida’s strengths – strengths that include an articulated, yet luminous and gorgeous tone – to use as that solo voice of the concerto.
However beautiful the voice, the test of programmatic music comes in how extensively the audience must be “pre-informed” in order to completely believe the composer’s intention. I must admit to feeling rather disconnected during the orchestra-only sections, somewhat like experiencing a film blindfolded. While it was certainly possible to enjoy the orchestral sections in the absolute sense, it was the beautiful oboe voice, the centerpiece, that prevented the concerto from drifting slightly toward the esoteric.
Maestro Richman opened the concert with the Salomon Rossi Suite by contemporary German-born American composer Lukas Foss. Foss used themes by Salomon Rossi, a 17th century Mantuan particularly known for his Hebrew liturgical works. This piece, in six short movements, is a contemporary orchestral impression of Rossi’s Renaissance sound. While short in length, the suite gave many different KSO orchestral players some visibility – antiphonal passages for the brass; an impression of the Renaissance lute and drum using the modern harp and pedaled tympani; a beautiful Lento for strings; and a cheerful and driving Renaissance-like fugue for the finale.
Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart’s Symphony No. 41 in C Major, K. 551 (“Jupiter”) concluded the evening. The symphony’s nickname, “Jupiter,” while not Mozart’s inscription but probably from a music publisher, does imply a grand, god-like connection. Admittedly, it is grander and more open than his previous symphonies. But the symphony’s reputation rests on its brilliant construction that builds to an amazing contrapuntal finale.
One problem surrounding its stature is that because this symphony has been so extensively performed and recorded over the years it is almost impossible not to have stubborn ideas of how it should sound in terms of tempo and phrasing. However, performance styles are not absolute. They have evolved in several phases: as orchestras became larger, as 19th century romanticism took hold, and eventually, as sound recording impacted the concert hall. My own impression was that this performance lacked crispness in phrasing that could have been solved with a brisker tempo.
Keeping that in mind, the KSO will offer a repeat performance of the “Jupiter” at this Sunday’s Chamber Music Series Concert at the Bijou. In this case, the string sections will decrease in size and the orchestra as a whole will appear more like an 18th century orchestra. If size unconsciously impacts tempo, it will be interesting to judge the differences.
Also on that same Chamber Series program will be Mozart’s Quartet in G Minor for Piano and Strings, K. 478. Maestro Richman will himself be at the piano. Completing the quartet is violinist and KSO concertmaster Mark Zelmanovich; Kathryn Gawne, violist; and Andy Bryenton, cellist. This quartet is one of contrasts that can test the emotional flexibility of its players. The key of G minor places the quartet in a dark and somber place, but one that, hopefully, has warmth and a lyrical quality. In contrast to the dark opening Allegro, the concluding Rondo movement is delightfully playful and optimistic.
Monday, March 24, 2008
Tristan In A Box
The Metropolitan Opera has had quite a go with this spring’s run of Richard Wagner’s Tristan und Isolde. The original pairing, Ben Heppner and Deborah Voigt, never materialized. Heppner was forced to cancel at least four of the six performances; at this time, he is still scheduled for the final two. Mr. Heppner’s original replacement, John Mac Master, disappointed critics and audiences alike, reportedly being booed by the audience after the first performance. For the next performance, the one of March 14, the Met rounded up Gary Lehman. Apparently Mr. Lehman did well, only to lose his Isolde, Ms. Voigt, in the second act to a stomach ailment. The remainder of that performance was sung by Ms. Voigt’s replacement, Janice Baird. Mr. Lehman returned for the following performance, but an Act III stage mechanism accident dragged him on his back headfirst into the prompter’s box. Mr. Lehman was shaken, but not seriously injured, although the curtain did have to be brought down for a few minutes while everyone regained their composure and took a breath.
Last Saturday’s matinee performance, however, was seen by a few more people than fit into the Metropolitan Opera seats -- it was one of the scheduled performances broadcast in Hi-Def to movie theaters around the world. The Met announced last Wednesday that Saturday’s Tristan would be sung by American tenor Robert Dean Smith, making his Metropolitan Opera debut. Mr. Smith is one of those American singers who has chosen to build his reputation in Europe, having sung Tristan, Walther von Stolzing from Die Meistersinger, and Lohengrin at Bayreuth. For those in the broadcast audience, he seemed to be the ideal in terms of Wagnerian tenors: appearance, voice, and stamina.
Aside from Mr. Smith’s Tristan and Ms. Voigt’s Isolde, a unique and notable effect came not from the stage, but from the HD broadcast’s video director. To solve the tricky issue of tiny faces lost in the vast sea that is the abstract set in this production by Dieter Dorn and designer Jürgen Rose, director Barbara Willis Sweete judiciously used the video switcher technique of inset boxes that both isolated characters and gave a whole-stage view simultaneously. At first, the effect was disconcerting and probably uncomfortable to some viewers. But then the realization came that the isolation camera technique was giving an experience that no other audience member could possibly have. The inset boxes sized and re-sized, grouped and re-grouped, to reinforce the stage arrangement. While this technique would not be necessary, and indeed undesired, for most productions, it certainly made its mark in this broadcast of Tristan und Isolde.
Last Saturday’s matinee performance, however, was seen by a few more people than fit into the Metropolitan Opera seats -- it was one of the scheduled performances broadcast in Hi-Def to movie theaters around the world. The Met announced last Wednesday that Saturday’s Tristan would be sung by American tenor Robert Dean Smith, making his Metropolitan Opera debut. Mr. Smith is one of those American singers who has chosen to build his reputation in Europe, having sung Tristan, Walther von Stolzing from Die Meistersinger, and Lohengrin at Bayreuth. For those in the broadcast audience, he seemed to be the ideal in terms of Wagnerian tenors: appearance, voice, and stamina.
Aside from Mr. Smith’s Tristan and Ms. Voigt’s Isolde, a unique and notable effect came not from the stage, but from the HD broadcast’s video director. To solve the tricky issue of tiny faces lost in the vast sea that is the abstract set in this production by Dieter Dorn and designer Jürgen Rose, director Barbara Willis Sweete judiciously used the video switcher technique of inset boxes that both isolated characters and gave a whole-stage view simultaneously. At first, the effect was disconcerting and probably uncomfortable to some viewers. But then the realization came that the isolation camera technique was giving an experience that no other audience member could possibly have. The inset boxes sized and re-sized, grouped and re-grouped, to reinforce the stage arrangement. While this technique would not be necessary, and indeed undesired, for most productions, it certainly made its mark in this broadcast of Tristan und Isolde.
Thursday, March 20, 2008
Second-Guessing the Maestro
Writing about classical music has its advantages. Writers don’t have to sell a ticket or please a patron. Unburdened by the business of music, one is free to advocate for interesting, yet seldom-programmed pieces, or even controversial ones. So, when word came down that Music Director Lucas Richman and the Knoxville Symphony Orchestra would be announcing the works for their 2008/2009 Symphony season, I began sharpening my proverbial knives, ready to eviscerate the same old same old. After all, I just wasn’t going to be satisfied if the orchestra started rounding up the usual suspects … the old war-horses … the too-often played hits on the classical jukebox. But with schedule in hand, I blinked.
Yes, a pleasant surprise. With a couple of exceptions which will be noted later, the lineup seemed to be a good mix of solid favorites, some seldom heard, but interesting pieces from known composers, and some really adventuresome choices. This might be really interesting after all.
As has been the custom, the KSO’s season will open in September with a concert of music from American composers. Jennifer Higdon’s six-minute Fanfare Ritmico will open a concert that will feature George Gershwin’s Piano Concerto in F and two works by Leonard Bernstein: Symphonic Dances from West Side Story and the Candide Overture. Appearing as the piano soloist in the Gershwin will be Spencer Meyer, who dazzled a Knoxville audience last January with his appearance at the Evelyn Miller Young Pianist Series.
Skipping on to November, Richman has continued the pattern of a Beethoven symphony each year, this season’s selection being the Seventh. More interesting perhaps are the other works on the bill, Puccini’s Preludio Sinfonico and Max Bruch’s Violin Concerto No. 1. The non-operatic works from composers known for opera (Wagner, Bizet, among others) have always been intriguing, and I am looking forward to the Puccini. Max Bruch wrote three violin concertos, yet Nos. 2 & 3 are almost never performed, the No. 1 being immensely popular. That could have been a real opportunity for the orchestra and concertgoers.
If you just can’t get enough Johann Sebastian Bach, then January 2009 is your month. Between the Chamber Series and the Masterworks Series, Bach will be represented by his Viola Concerto, his Concerto for Two Violins, and the Brandenberg Concerto No. 3. The Masterworks concert will also feature Mozart’s Piano Concerto No. 24 with pianist Navah Perlman, daughter of acclaimed violinist Itzhak Perlman.
February’s Masterworks concert will open with the premier of a work commissioned by the KSO, Time Like An Ever Flowing Stream, by Knoxville composer and KSO member, Mark Harrell. Two works by Brahms will fill out the evening.
The very popular (and possibly over-performed) Bolero of Maurice Ravel, scheduled for March, represents a real conflict for me. Like Orff’s Carmina Burana, Bolero attracts concertgoers who are not symphony regulars. For that reason, it is hard to be negative about the programming. Recordings do not do it justice – you have to hear it live. The March program will open with a bold choice, Rainbow Body by contemporary American composer Christopher Theofanidis. Also on the program is the interesting Sibelius Violin Concerto, its revised version first conducted by Richard Strauss. Strauss is also represented on the program by his tone poem Til Eulenspiegel’s Merry Pranks.
April 2009 will be a month for the adventuresome concertgoer. The Masterworks concert will open with Messiaen’s Les Offrandes Oubliées followed by Jean Sibelius’s final symphony, the intriguing and original Symphony No. 7. The Knoxville Choral Society will then join the KSO for Igor Stravinsky’s Symphony of Psalms and Borodin’s Polovtsian Dances. Listeners will, of course, recognize the Borodin as the basis for the 1953 Broadway musical Kismet, that includes the song “Stranger in Paradise.”
Frankly, there is precious little to complain about in the 2008/2009 KSO schedule. Maestro Richman has obviously tried to include a lot of musical territory, and Knoxville concertgoers will benefit. One point of contention might be the all-Tchaikovsky concert in October. While I admit to being ambivalent on the Russian composer, I do recognize that he is a favorite of many. Some off-the-beaten paths might have included Carl Nielsen, for example. We should be hearing more Robert Schumann, particularly his later works for violin and orchestra. Or perhaps, a strategic pairing of something from the vast under-performed Baroque catalog with a work from the 1890-1918 period. And we seem to hear the same three or four Mozart symphonies and piano concertos time and again. I believe Haydn wrote a few symphonies, too.
Yes, a pleasant surprise. With a couple of exceptions which will be noted later, the lineup seemed to be a good mix of solid favorites, some seldom heard, but interesting pieces from known composers, and some really adventuresome choices. This might be really interesting after all.
As has been the custom, the KSO’s season will open in September with a concert of music from American composers. Jennifer Higdon’s six-minute Fanfare Ritmico will open a concert that will feature George Gershwin’s Piano Concerto in F and two works by Leonard Bernstein: Symphonic Dances from West Side Story and the Candide Overture. Appearing as the piano soloist in the Gershwin will be Spencer Meyer, who dazzled a Knoxville audience last January with his appearance at the Evelyn Miller Young Pianist Series.
Skipping on to November, Richman has continued the pattern of a Beethoven symphony each year, this season’s selection being the Seventh. More interesting perhaps are the other works on the bill, Puccini’s Preludio Sinfonico and Max Bruch’s Violin Concerto No. 1. The non-operatic works from composers known for opera (Wagner, Bizet, among others) have always been intriguing, and I am looking forward to the Puccini. Max Bruch wrote three violin concertos, yet Nos. 2 & 3 are almost never performed, the No. 1 being immensely popular. That could have been a real opportunity for the orchestra and concertgoers.
If you just can’t get enough Johann Sebastian Bach, then January 2009 is your month. Between the Chamber Series and the Masterworks Series, Bach will be represented by his Viola Concerto, his Concerto for Two Violins, and the Brandenberg Concerto No. 3. The Masterworks concert will also feature Mozart’s Piano Concerto No. 24 with pianist Navah Perlman, daughter of acclaimed violinist Itzhak Perlman.
February’s Masterworks concert will open with the premier of a work commissioned by the KSO, Time Like An Ever Flowing Stream, by Knoxville composer and KSO member, Mark Harrell. Two works by Brahms will fill out the evening.
The very popular (and possibly over-performed) Bolero of Maurice Ravel, scheduled for March, represents a real conflict for me. Like Orff’s Carmina Burana, Bolero attracts concertgoers who are not symphony regulars. For that reason, it is hard to be negative about the programming. Recordings do not do it justice – you have to hear it live. The March program will open with a bold choice, Rainbow Body by contemporary American composer Christopher Theofanidis. Also on the program is the interesting Sibelius Violin Concerto, its revised version first conducted by Richard Strauss. Strauss is also represented on the program by his tone poem Til Eulenspiegel’s Merry Pranks.
April 2009 will be a month for the adventuresome concertgoer. The Masterworks concert will open with Messiaen’s Les Offrandes Oubliées followed by Jean Sibelius’s final symphony, the intriguing and original Symphony No. 7. The Knoxville Choral Society will then join the KSO for Igor Stravinsky’s Symphony of Psalms and Borodin’s Polovtsian Dances. Listeners will, of course, recognize the Borodin as the basis for the 1953 Broadway musical Kismet, that includes the song “Stranger in Paradise.”
Frankly, there is precious little to complain about in the 2008/2009 KSO schedule. Maestro Richman has obviously tried to include a lot of musical territory, and Knoxville concertgoers will benefit. One point of contention might be the all-Tchaikovsky concert in October. While I admit to being ambivalent on the Russian composer, I do recognize that he is a favorite of many. Some off-the-beaten paths might have included Carl Nielsen, for example. We should be hearing more Robert Schumann, particularly his later works for violin and orchestra. Or perhaps, a strategic pairing of something from the vast under-performed Baroque catalog with a work from the 1890-1918 period. And we seem to hear the same three or four Mozart symphonies and piano concertos time and again. I believe Haydn wrote a few symphonies, too.
Saturday, February 23, 2008
Welcome to Mostly Classical
Thank you for stumbling onto Mostly Classical, a place for commentary on music and the arts. Currently, you can read my classical music commentary in the alternative weekly Metro Pulse.
( online at http://www.metropulse.com )
Thanks for reading!
( online at http://www.metropulse.com )
Thanks for reading!
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