Concert Review: The Keeper of the Keys

Murray Perahia in recital at Lincoln Center
by Paul Pelkonen

Piano man: Murray Perahia. Photo © 2010 courtesy Sony Classical.

In the course of a long concert season, some recitals and concerts are akin to a religious ceremony. Such a one was Sunday's afternoon concert at Avery Fisher Hall, featuring Bronx-born pianist Murray Perahia. The lights of this great hall were down very low, creating an atmosphere of religious contemplation. A celestial beam lit the stage, as New York's own high priest of solo piano music strode to his instrument.

As a hometown hero with impeccable taste and technique, Mr. Perahia is beloved by New York concert-goers. Yet he has earned their frustration as well, with a series of cancellations and health problems stemming from a 1995 operation to remove a bone spur from his right hand. This forced him to retire from performance for three years. Those physical problems, coupled with the artist's ongoing residency in Berlin have conspired to make a recital by this artist a special event.

The repertory for this recital was conservative, with the three "B's" (J. S. Bach, Beethoven, Brahms) in the first half and Chopin and Schubert in the second. Mr. Perahia began with No. 5 of Bach's French Suites, his hands performing a complex terpsichore on the keys through the seven dance movements. The closing Loure and Gigue were lyric and uplifting, a strong argument for performing this music on the modern instrument.


Beethoven wrote his piano sonatas for the wood-framed fortepiano of his day, destroying a few in the process. The 27th Sonata in E minor is one of his most unconventional. Consisting of just two movements, its tense opening and cheerful Rondo are testaments to the composer's volatile personality. Mr. Perahia's playing was conservative, focusing on the deep humanism of the writing and the composer's gift of phrase.

The first half of the program ended with Brahms' late Klavierstücke--four piano miniatures from the composer's late period. Mr. Perahia announced Brahms' solemn presence through the cascade of heavy chords that open the first Intermezzo. From there he turned to warm, glowing melodies, leading a gorgeous waltz in the middle section of the second piece.

Mr. Perahia's recent releases have included a disc of Brahms works, and his affinity for the composer's complex scheme and variations showed in the third Intermezzo, a kind of scherzo based on just four notes. Finally it was time for the vast, cinematic sweep of the Rhapsody in E Flat Major, which ends the set with a noble theme borrowed six years later by Brahms' friend Jean Sibelius for his tone poem Finlandia.

The second half opened with Schubert's Sonata No. 19 in A, a work of sunny optimism with none of the obsession with death that plagued this young composer in his later years. Mr. Perahia made the sunlight of Schubert's Vienna shine into the dark cavern of Avery Fisher Hall, playing the three movements with lyric grace. The Andante flowed smoothly from his fingers, and the final movement had a fierce, determined joy.

That ferocity and determination extended to the four Chopin works chosen by Mr. Perahia to end the concert. This ws not the simpering, soft Chopin of the salon, but music of a brusque, business-like determination. The C# minor Polonaise had a heroic swagger, its dance rhythms etched by the soloist in bold strokes. The murderously difficult Prelude No. 8 in F# minor followed. A tiny two-minute beast among the composer's 24, its nickname is "Desparation." Mr. Perahia kept a cool head and executed the tricky right-hand figures with his customary skill.

The Mazurka No. 4 is just three minutes in length. Mr. Perahia showed that this brief work is packed with musical ideas and expressive possibilities. The little tetralogy ended with the muscular Scherzo No. 4, the last of the set. Mr. Perahia returned to Chopin's heroic mode here. The brash opening theme gave way to a slow, sad minor. The work ended with a mighty struggle to return to the major key. Mr. Perahia injected a note of triumph and achievement into the resonant final chords.

Concert Review: Brass from the Steel City

The Pittsburgh Symphony Orchestra plays Lincoln Center.
by Paul Pelkonen.

Man of Steel: conductor Manfred Honeck leads the Pittsburgh Symphony Orchestra.

The Pittsburgh Symphony Orchestra has been around for over a century. But the ensemble has never achieved the same prominence as other American orchestras. Sunday's concert at Avery Fisher Hall under the baton of music director Manfred Honeck indicate that good things are afoot in the Steel City.  Mr. Honeck leads an ensemble with a rich, robust tone quality, led by the trumpets and trombones. Percussion and wind playing were tight, and the carpet of strings (the heart of any orchestra's sound) was tightly woven. 

The concert opened with Silent Spring, a work composed for the PSO by composer-in-residence Steven Stucky. Mr. Stucky's work is inspired by the environmental writing of Rachel Carson. The sound recalls the nature-loving middle period of Richard Strauss (particularly the Alpine Symphony) with exotic tones formed from bell clusters, shimmering strings and complex percussion parts for multiple players. 

Hilary Hahn took the stage next, wrapped in a flame-orange gown that recalled Serge Prokofiev's The Fiery Angel. That was appropriate, as the soloist was playing that composer's Violin Concerto, a lyric work steeped in Russian folk-song and lore. She began the work as a soliloquy for her instrument and expounded eloquently on the work's main theme. At the movement's close, the audience applauded.

The slow movement featured lyric, graceful playing against the orchestral fabric, a gauzy, lush sound that is antithetical to the industrial-strength writing usually associated with this composer. More applause greeted this movement, with the assembled audience clearly not knowing their concert manners.

The last movement, a kind of folk-tale in itself, provided ample opportunity for Ms. Hahn's fearless technique. This was Russa music of another time, evoking the mythic past of that great country before the Soviet revolution. She gave this work the strong performance it deserved, soaring up to the high trill by the bridge of her instrument and finishing with a flurry of well-placed notes. This time, the applause was on time, and entirely justified. She offered an encore, a graceful, nimble Sarabande from Bach's second Partita.

The second half of the concert featured a muscular, brass-driven reading of Tchaikovsky's Fifth Symphony. The Fifth is the exception among the late Tchaikovsky symphonies, coming between the soul-searching Fourth and the heart-rending Pathetique. The work also borrows from the composer's little-heard "Manfred" Symphony, with one theme serving as a melodic thread between four movements.

That theme starts as a funeral march before metamorphasizing into a triumphant, swaggering celebration. Mr. Honeck and his forces played this familiar music with ferocious intensity, with the brass leading the charge. Unfortunately, less experienced listeners in Avery Fisher Hall jumped the gun again. Thinking that the work had ended, they applauded. Mr. Honeck ignored them, and drove the last bars forward, finishing the work in a blaze of sound.

The concert ended with another encore: the Galop from Aram Khachturian's Maskarad Suite. Given the opportunity to play an extended clarinet cadenza, PSO principal Michael Rusenick added a few bars of Leonard Bernstein's "New York, New York" from On The Town. It was a charming way to end a strong concert.

Contact the author: E-mail Superconductor editor Paul Pelkonen.

The Doge Dies Early

Plácido Domingo as  Simon Boccanegra.
Photo by Monika Rittershaus for the Berlin State Opera.

Financial Issues Poison OONY Boccanegra.

The Opera Orchestra of New York issued a statement today canceling a planned concert performance of Verdi's Simon Boccanegra, which would have starred Plácido Domingo in the title role. The performance was to be conducted by Alberto Veronesi.

The reason for the cancellation: a loss of anticipated funding. Tickets purchased can be donated to the company, used towards a future performance, or simply refunded.

"We regret having to cancel the upcoming presentation of Simon Boccanegra," board chairman Norman Raben said in a press release. "As a board, we have a mandate to be fiscally responsible."

He added: "With the loss of funding for this production we had no choice but to cancel the concert. The Opera Orchestra of New York has a long legacy of presenting operas in concert on New York’s greatest stages and our primary goal is to maintain the company's vision and ensure the longevity of the institution."

OONY was founded in 1971 by conductor Eve Queler, with a mission to present concert performances of operas without the traditional accoutrements of costumes and sets. In a long-running series of concerts at Carnegie Hall and Avery Fisher Hall, the ensemble has presented New Yorkers with rarities like Wagner's Rienzi, Meyerbeer's L'Africaine and Massenet's La Navarraise. Recent concerts included a revival of Rienzi and a fall performance of Cilea's Adriana Lecouvrer.

The press release also stated that the company will announce its 2012-2013 slate of operas in concert in coming weeks.

Contact the author: E-mail Superconductor editor Paul Pelkonen

New York Philharmonic Avoids Strike

Orchestra, union sign two-year labor deal.

Filling the seats: the New York Philharmonic poses in Avery Fisher Hall.
Photo by Chris Lee © 2011 The New York Philharmonic.

Well, that was close.

The New York Philharmonic narrowly avoided a strike this weekend.

The orchestra, which embarks today on a three-week European tour, almost got on the picket line instead of the airplane. The musicians, who have played all of this season's concerts without a new contract in place, were prepared to strike if a deal didn't get done.

In late-breaking news on Saturday night, the orchestra told Daniel J. Wakin of the New York Times that they had signed a new two-year contract, maintaining their health benefits and giving players a small salary increase in 2014. There is also a hard cap on pension benefits.

Mr. Wakin first reported the news on Twitter, and then in a Times article compiled by himself and Adam W. Kepler. That article is the source of this story.

Mr. Wakin's article commented that this deal was "short, by industry standards."


The orchestra and its musicians had been at loggerheads over the company's pension fund. According to Mr. Wakin's report, management had taken its proposals for "drastic" health insurance cuts and "radical" benefit reductions off the table. Both sides agreed to reexamine benefit issues in 2014.

In signing a deal, orchestra and musicians have avoided the kind of ugly situation that nearly scuppered the 2012 seasons of the New York City Opera and the Philadelphia Orchestra. The City Opera players settled for an extension of their health care benefits with a severe cut in their performance fees. In Philadelphia, that venerable orchestra filed for bankruptcy before hammering out a deal with their musicians.

Tino Gagliardi, a representative for Musicians Local 802, told the Times that management backed down from a scheme to change players' pensions from "defined benefit" to one where the funds would be supported by contributions from the players' paychecks.

The Doge Abides

Plácido Domingo to sing Simon Boccanegra with the Opera Orchestra of New York.

Plácido Domingo in the Metropolitan Opera
production of Simon Boccanegra

The Opera Orchestra of New York has revealed its "secret" production of the 2012 spring season, starring Plácido Domingo. 

And it's...Simon Boccanegra. The opera will be performed in concert at Avery Fisher Hall on March 7. This will mark the OONY's first performance of Boccanegra. OONY music director Alberto Veronesi will conduct.

The title role in Boccanegra has long been considered a pinnacle of the baritone repertoire. Mr. Domingo, who began his 50-year opera career singing in that range, added the role to his repertory in 2009. 

Simon Boccanegra had a complex genesis. Verdi wrote the original version of the opera in 1857. The confusing plot and lack of action did not sit well with the public, and the opera vanished from the stage. In 1881, at the urging of librettist Arrigio Boito, Verdi revamped the opera, restructuring the story and adding the climactic Council Chamber scene to the end of Act I.

Although the OONY has a reputation for bringing little-heard works and unusual versions of operas to the ears of New Yorkers, this will be a performance of the 1881 revision of the opera. It is also Mr. Veronesi's second appearance leading the OONY, following a 2010 double bill of Massenet's La Navarraise and Mascagni's Cavalleria Rusticana at Carnegie Hall.

The opera gained new life in the repertory in the 20th century, becoming a favorite of great Verdi baritones Tito Gobbi and Piero Cappucilli. It is regularly seen at the Metropolitan Opera, where Mr. Domingo sang the role in the winter of 2009. 

Earlier in his career, Mr. Domingo was frequently heard in the role of Gabriele Adorno, the revolutionary firebrand who is determined to knock the Doge off the throne of Genoa. In this performance, Gabriele will be sung by Massimino Giordano. The role of Amelia, Simon's secret daughter and Gabriele's love interest will be sung by Ana Maria Martinez in her Opera Orchestra of New York debut.

This performance will mark the 71-year old singer's only Verdi appearances of the season. It is also his third performance with the Opera Orchestra of New York, following a 1973 Francesca di Rimini and Massenet's Le Cid in 1976. 

Concert Review: The Burly Show

Alan Gilbert works out the New York Philharmonic.

"And turn! And bend! And flex! And play!" Conductor Alan Gilbert.
Photo by Chris Lee © 2011 The New York Philharmonic.

On Wednesday night, Alan Gilbert led the New York Philharmonic in three sturdy modern works. Composer-in-residence Magnus Lindberg's Feria was followed by the Second Piano Concerto of Bela Bártok with soloist Lang Lang. Prokofiev's Fifth Symphony, a steely-eyed product of his second Soviet period brought the evening to a loud close.

Mr. Lindberg's piece is a sort of orchestral carnival, with many of the musical ideas that have become familiar to New Yorkers over the three years of his residency. A ringing trumpet figure is followed by nervous, chivvying figures in the strings, and complex percussion parts. The orchestra incorporates unusual "found" objects. There is a percussion part for a suspended spring coil, and prominent use of piano. But what made this 17-minute piece work was an eloquent main theme, and a slow central section with subtle references to the Renaissance music of Claudio Monteverdi.

A lengthy pause before the Bartók concerto saw the Philharmonic reconfigured in an unfamiliar way. The entire brass were moved all the way to stage right, with the woodwinds sitting in front along the lip of the stage. The first violins occupied the center of the stage behind the piano. Since Bartók's composition omits strings in the first movement, and mutes the brass in the second. this divided seating seating made musical sense. 

Lang Lang is known for his Liszt, but here he showed no fear in taking on the technically challenging (and at one point in the second movement, unplayable) music of the other famous Hungarian composer. Mr. Lang brought an energetic, driving presence to the piano part, playing the staccato notes from the shoulder and pounding the keys with drill-bit precision. For the elegant glissando runs up the keyboard, his left hand would hover in the air, playing its own, invisible part before crashing down to continue the piece. Mr. Gilbert and his orchestra provided sturdy accompaniment.

Written in 1944, Prokofiev's Fifth is one of his more popular works, heard frequently when there's a large orchestra that has a tuba player with serious lung power. The symphony anticipates the forthcoming Russian victory over the Nazis. It represents a sort of high point in the composer's return to the Soviet Union, a high that would not last as the following Sixth drew the wrath of Stalin's censors.

Mr. Gilbert chose a broadly spaced interpretation. It featured strong playing from the Philharmonic brass, now returned to their customary stage left position. Across a broad sonic bridge built by the strings, the brass players duelled with Prokofiev's pounding percussion, producing a stirring first movement. This is the kind of music this orchestra plays very well, and they charged ahead like a Soviet armored division.

Opening with a bubbly clarinet theme, the Scherzo sprang to vivid life, evoking a Stalinist utopia with just a hint of Russian sarcasm underneath the rhythms. The second slow movement (which shares material with the composer's Cinderella ballet.) Most impressive was the inexorable crescendo, building to a slow, heavy climax that seemed to roll over the listener like a May Day tank.

The finale (opening with the same bassoon theme as the first movement) drove the whole conception home. The most memorable thing about this last movement is a prominent percussion part, led by the echoing "thok, thok, thock" of the wood block. But that's not the conductor's fault. 

Concert Review: Mahler's Last Words

Daniel Harding conducts the (completed) Mahler 10th.

by Paul J. Pelkonen

The last photo of Gustav Mahler.

When Gustav Mahler died in 1911, he had completed his second season as music director of the New York Philharmonic, a post he took in 1909. He was also in the middle of working on his Tenth Symphony, a five-movement instrumental work built on a vast scale. At the time of his death, the first movement was completed. The remaining four were only sketched.

Concert Review: Keeping His Day Job

Fabio Luisi leads the Vienna Symphony at Lincoln Center.

A conductor, always on call: Fabio Luisi.
Photo by Barbara Luisi.

Sunday's matinee concert featuring the Vienna Symphony offered New Yorkers a chance to see conductor Fabio Luisi in one of the jobs he held before becoming Principal Conductor at the Metropolitan Opera. Mr. Luisi is Chief Conductor of this Viennese ensemble. He offered orchestral comfort food: Rachmaninoff's Piano Concerto No. 2 (with soloist Lise de la Salle), paired with Beethoven's reliable Seventh Symphony.

As originally scheduled, this program was more interesting. Mr. Luisi had scheduled this concert (the first of two) to end with Franz Schmidt's impressive but rarely played Symphony No. 4. But in a late change, the Schmidt yielded to the more familiar Beethoven. This might have been due to Mr. Luisi's other commitments. 

In September, Mr. Luisi was promoted at the Met, following an injury suffered by reigning Met Music Director James Levine. On short notice, Mr. Luisi added the company's new productions of Don Giovanni and Siegfried to his already full schedule. In doing so, he was forced to cancel a number of European commitments, including a new Rome production of Salome and (presumably) the time reqired to rehearse the Schmidt Fourth.

These are familiar, "safe" favorites were played and executed with thorough professionalism by the Vienna Symphony. While lacking the name-recognition of the Vienna Philharmonic, the two orchestras have some things in common. Both give concerts at the Musikverein, with the Symphony also playing at the Theater an der Wien. They share a preference for the traditional Viennese horn in F, and a relatively low proportion of females onstage.

The solo part in the Rachmaninoff was taken by Ms. de la Salle, a 23-year-old pianist of formidable talent and technique. She established the bell-like opening interval with a firm hand, before rolling forward into the opening theme. Balance problems existed in this movement, with Mr. Luisi's accompaniment drowning out the piano's voice in the opening phrases. Eventually, the problem was corrected and the piano's voice emerged over the orchestra.

The second movement was better, allowing the grace of Ms. de la Salle's playing to emerge. She exchanged thoughtful commentary with the solo clarinet, playing one of Rachmaninoff's most famous themes. Mr. Luisi brought out the melancholy character of this movement, indulging in some very Russian-sounding orchestral reflections, played with Austrian polish and tone.

The final Allegro allowed the talents of this young artist to shine fully, with thrilling, sometimes staccato keyboard runs She displayed the necessary blend of precision, force and athleticism needed with this composer's challenging piano parts. Ms. de la Salle then obliged the thunderous approval with an encore, a delicate, almost gossamer performance of Debussy's prelude Des pas sur la Niege ("Footprints in the Snow.")

Mr. Luisi then had the opportunity to show his orchestra's chops with a robust Beethoven Seventh.  The opening had the right drama and power, providing contrast to the manic main theme that followed. Conducting without a score, the slender maestro danced in rhythm on the podium. At times, he seemed to pull Beethoven's dancing themes out of the strings with his whole body and will.

The funeral march (made famous in last year's Oscar™-winning The King's Speech was played with weight and a steady hand. The last two movements, expressions of joy at the defeat of Beethoven's idol-turned-nemesis Napoleon, had a celebratory air, with triumphant playing from the Vienna horns. 

Concert Review: Slamming Beethoven

Four Quartets at the Clark Studio Theater.

Stephen Dillane.
Photo by Stephanie Berger.
© 2011 Lincoln Center/White Light Festival.

On Wednesday night, the tiny Clark Studio Theater (a black box space tucked into Lincoln Center's towering Rose Building on W. 65th St.) played host to a revival of Four Quartets. Part chamber music recital and part poetry slam, this was one of the most intriguing works presented at the 2011 White Light Festival.

The two-hour program paired the Four Quartets, long, hard-hitting poems by T.S. Eliot, (recited by actor Stephen Dillane) with Beethoven's Op. 132, played by the Miró String Quartet. Even if one is unaware of the deep connection between these two works, poetry paired with string quartet to create an almost unearthy meditation, the sound of two artists staring down eternity.

However, there is a connection. The Four Quartets were inspired by a gramophone record Eliot had of the Beethoven work, one which he would listen to often. Each of the poems corresponds to one of the four classical elements, and the extended structure of East Coker and The Dry Salvages allow the two works to be performed as a unit.

British actor Stephen Dillane presented these poems from memory, with a grim, matter-of-fact delivery. He entered, pacing across the black-painted acting surface. He stopped, stood and delivered each of the poems' five individual sections. At the end of each, he'd move again. Each movement formed an invisible pattern, a complex set of imaginary ley lines under the stark flourescent lights.

The performance by the Miró Quartet was the exact opposite. They played under low, incandescent lamps, facing each other, and shutting out the audience. This introverted and intimate playing provided contrast to Mr. Dillane's readings, the themes of Beethoven's brilliant, technically challenging writing threading together, like Eliot's thoughts on paper. 

This is one of Beethoven's challenging late works, the thirteenth quartet written by the composer. The performance may have been made more challenging by the substitution of second violinist Tereza Stanislav, replacing the recently departed Sandy Yamamoto. (Ms. Stanislav's position with the ensemble is temporary. William Fedkenheuer is scheduled to take over as a permanent replacement.)

The lineup change did not affect the cool efficiency brought to the performance by the Miró Quartet. They teased out the theme in the opening movement, laying out Beethoven's aural traps in the form of false developments. When the theme developed and recapitulated, it did so to thrilling effect. The dance movement was executed with agile joy. The long slow movement had the effect of a slow simmering balm, a healing poultice for Eliot's painful imagery.

The finale, with its introduction, pause, and giddy fugue was an exercise in stellar contrapuntal playing, with major contributions from cellist Joshua Gindele. This was edge-of-the-seat musicianship, brilliantly played. Equally brilliant, brightly glowing screen of a fellow's Blackberry in the last movement. This older, suited gentleman found writing e-mail more important than Beethoven. His was a different kind of "white light."

Concert Review: Through a Prism, Darkly

Spectral Scriabin at the White Light Festival.

Spectral Scriabin: Eteri Andjaperidze at the piano. Lighting design by Jennifer Tipton.
Photo by Chris Lee © 2011 Lincoln Center White Light Festival.

At a classical music performance, the light is almost always white. Whether a solo pianist or a mighty orchestra blasting out a Strauss tone poem, the musicians are invariably lit to aid clarity and the perception of the tiny black dots written on the stave.

But in almost all other genres of music, players and singers perform bathed in the individual components of the spectrum. Gobos, gels, and electronic VariLites are employed to make those lights shift across the spectrum and change shape.

Colors and sound: Scriabin's wheel of colors and tones.
Image from Wikimedia Commons.

In his short life, the Russian composer Alexander Scriabin tried to bridge this gap. A synesthetic (he saw colors accompany music) Scriabin created a system assigning individual hues to sounds. For the performance of his final completed symphonic work (Prometheus: A Poem of Fire), he even commissioned a luce ("color organ") designed to bathe the listener in different shades.

Spectral Scriabin, the collaboration between pianist Eteri Andjaperidze and lighting designer Jennifer Tipton does not use a color organ. But this year, it was encored as part of Lincoln Center's White Light Festival, with three performances at the Baryshnikov Arts Center, located "off campus" in the rapidly developing neighborhood west of midtown Manhattan.

At the second performance on Friday night, Ms. Andjaperidze began the program in absolute darkness, playing Vers la flamme as the light slowly rose. She then let the sheet music fall slowly to the floor before moving on to the Four Preludes, followed by four Etudes. Dim circles of colored light materialized behind and around the pianist, creating a ghostly effect.

As the program moved into Scriabin's later, more esoteric piano pieces, the lights changed:

Two blue circles.

Three circles in red. 

Four in violet, overlapping.

A glowing disc below the piano.

Images overlapped as the complex works flowered and bloomed under Ms. Andjaperidze' fingers. Moving into the Poémes (written as the composer climbed towards the heights of the Poem of Ecstasy and Prometheus) played this increasingly difficult music with smooth legato and precise tone, hovering in the mystic negative space created by the composer's preferred use of "fourth" intervals over the standard fifths.

The concert ended with a more familiar work, the challenging Sonata No. 4. In this watershed composition, Scriabin smashed through the standard tonal system, creating a brave new world of sound that may have only existed in his own head. Ms. Andjaperidze brought powerful inspiration to this work, spinning out notes that hung suspended, floating in the circles of colored light. Like the leaves of sheet music, the notes drifted slowly down to earth as they penetrated the listener's mind.