ProMusica celebrates a decade of artistic partnership to close season

ProMusica Chamber Orchestra
David Danzmayr, conductor
Vadim Gluzman, violin
Southern Theatre
Columbus, OH
May 11, 2024

Silvestrov: Hymn – 2001
Tchaikovsky: Violin Concerto in D major, Op. 35
 Encore:
 Bach: Sarabande from Violin Partita No. 2 in D minor, BWV 1004
Brahms: Symphony No. 2 in D major, Op. 73

There was a celebratory air to ProMusica’s closing performances of their 45th season in marking a decade of having both David Danzmayr and Vadim Gluzman in the fold as music director and creative partner respectively. As has become tradition, the final weekend was opened with a short performance by students from the Play Us Forward program – this year, an excerpt from Vivaldi’s Autumn – celebrating ProMusica’s impact in the greater Columbus community.

Vadim Gluzman performs with David Danzmayr and ProMusica, photo credit ProMusica

Valentin Silvestrov’s Hymn – 2001 began ProMusica’s program with a lush essay for string orchestra. There were fine solo passages from concertmaster Katherine McLin and principal second violin Jennifer Ross. Meaning was also drawn from punctuated moments of silence, with the Ukrainian composer acknowledging Cage’s 4’33” as an inspiration for this lyrical paean.

Tchaikovsky’s evergreen Violin Concerto served as the evening’s centerpiece, and put on full display the collaborative spark between Danzmayr and Gluzman. It’s a particular pleasure to see Gluzman play this work as he performs on a violin once owned by Leopold Auer, the concerto’s original dedicatee – in other words, the very violin this concerto was written for. I have fond memories of Gluzman performing this work with The Cleveland Orchestra and the late Michail Jurowski a few years ago – a privilege to hear this instrument in this work again.

Matters began with graceful charm, and the violinist filled the Southern with a resonantly lyrical tone. Gluzman gave an impassioned performance, and I was often simply in awe of the sound he drew from his storied instrument (Tchaikovsky must have liked it too!). Fleet fingers pulled off the more rapid passegework, further encouraged by a taut communication with Danzmayr, the product of a fruitful decade.

A choir of winds opened the central slow movement, and Gluzman answered with a long-bowed, somber melody, an articulate dialogue between soloist and orchestra. The finale was of rapid fire excitement, though a downtempo section of distinctly Slavic inflection contrasted before the blistering finish. An enthusiastic ovation brought the violinist back for an encore by Bach, a lovely pendant to the concerto, with Gluzman noting it an apropos choice given Silvestrov’s affinity for Bach.

Last season closed with a Brahms symphony, a feat reprised this past weekend with attention turned to the sunny Second. Once again, ProMusica, buttressed by an expanded string section, proved that the Brahms symphonies can be convincingly performed by a chamber-sized orchestra. A dip in the strings opened, warmly answered by horns and winds, with a particularly rich theme in the cellos to follow. Danzmayr opted out of the long repeat of the exposition, delving right into the energetic development. The slow movement proceeded as a beautifully lyrical paragraph, though seemingly all cares were left behind for the Allegretto grazioso, given with an abandon that was only a warmup for the jubilant finale.

Simone Dinnerstein calms the storm in tender meditation at the Gilmore Festival

Simone Dinnerstein, piano
Stetson Chapel
Kalamazoo College
Kalamazoo, MI
May 7, 2024

Couperin: Les barricades mystérieuses, from Pièces de clavecin
Schumann: Arabeske, Op. 18
Satie: Gnossienne No. 3
Glass: Mad Rush
Schumann: Kreisleriana, Op. 16

Encore:
Couperin: Les barricades mystérieuses, from Pièces de clavecin

There’s a first time for everything, and I can safely say that Tuesday evening at the Gilmore Festival was the first concert I’ve attended in which the audience was asked to shelter in the venue’s basement for 45 minutes due to uncomfortably close tornados raging nearby. A hearty crowd of committed pianophiles stuck it out, however, and were amply rewarded with an artfully crafted recital from Simone Dinnerstein.

Simone Dinnerstein at Stetson Chapel, photos © Chris McGuire Photography, courtesy of The Gilmore

This was essentially a live performance of her Undersong album, the last of a trilogy of projects she recorded during the pandemic. The title, an archaic word for chorus or refrain, refers to the idea of return, revisiting places after the passage of time. All of the diverse body of music programmed engaged with the theme in a different way, but in each case, a melody presented resurfaced in some context later on. The delayed evening began with Couperin’s gem of a piece Les barricades mystérieuses, quite literally the calm after the storm. Elegantly ornamented, Dinnerstein drew from the piano a rich, reflective tone.

Schumann’s Arabeske saw the composer at his most Schubertian with its lyrical, rippling figures, arriving at a point of return following some contrasting episodes, and its gentle coda amounts to one of Schumann’s loveliest inspirations. Philip Glass’ Mad Rush continued the theme into the late 20th-century. Undulating figures changed subtly, almost imperceptibly, growing in intensity as Dinnerstein filled the Stetson Chapel with waves of sound. She has a close affinity for the music of Glass, with the composer having written his Third Piano Concerto with her in mind.

The third of Satie’s Gnossiennes evoked the French composer’s rarefied, idiosyncratic language, distilled of any excess and expressive in its barrenness. Recurrence is a key element of the eight vignettes that comprise Schumann’s Kreisleriana. Fleet and mercurial, the opening was given an impassioned workout. The most extended selection of the suite followed, with contrasting themes bound together by its common thread. Nearly manic, the penultimate episode introduced contrapuntal textures in homage to Bach, played with incisive clarity, and the final piece was stately and sensitive, the culmination of a long trajectory.

Dinnerstein’s lone encore embodied the undersong theme in returning to the Couperin with which the recital began. What a lovely gesture it was to close the program full-circle.

5/7/24 – Kalamazoo, Michigan: Simone Dinnerstein, Gilmore Piano Festival. © Chris McGuire Photography.

Paul Lewis closes Schubert series in magisterial form at the Gilmore Festival

Paul Lewis, piano
Dalton Center Recital Hall
Western Michigan University
Kalamazoo, MI
May 6, 2024

Schubert: Piano Sonata No. 19 in C minor, D958
Schubert: Piano Sonata No. 20 in A major, D959
Schubert: Piano Sonata No. 21 in B-flat major, D960

I am deeply grateful to Paul Lewis for introducing me to remarkable piano music of Schubert, a composer who can be unjustly overlooked in the wake of Beethoven and other contemporaries. I still have fond memories of a revelatory Schubert cycle he presented at Chicago’s Symphony Center, traversing all of the composer’s late piano works over the course of five recitals, a multi-season exploration that began back in February 2011. The 2024 Gilmore Festival saw Lewis in a similar undertaking, in this case, focusing on the piano sonatas over a quartet of recitals in the space of a single week. I was only fortunate enough to catch the final entry, consisting of the last three sonatas – one of those holy grail piano programs, on par with the final Beethoven sonatas or the Goldberg Variations.

Paul Lewis at the Gilmore Festival, photos © Chris McGuire Photography, courtesy of The Gilmore

The opening of the C minor sonata was given with ample weight and drama, only to be contrasted by lighter, buoyant material, with the quick-shifting moods akin to flickering candlelight. Lewis was fully enraptured and played with unwavering commitment; the intervening decade since I last saw him play Schubert has certainly brought even closer to the core of this music. In the slow movement, Lewis delicately voiced the chordal passages, with a nuanced shading given to each gesture. A rollicking triple meter marked the finale, one of the composer’s most thrilling creations.

Spacious, majestic beginnings were had in the A major sonata, answered by rippling triplets, and Lewis played with a distinct gracefulness, a particular joy to watch during the passages for crossed hands. In the tragic slow movement, the brightness of A major faded to a bleak F-sharp minor, and the primal agony of the central section was of startling ferocity. And then – a theme familiar from the G-flat impromptu surfaced, like sunlight shining through dark clouds for a wondrous calming effect. The sprightly scherzo was no trifle, packing in ample drama. The rondo finale was lyrical at heart, interspersed with themes that contrasted, and the closing figure was strikingly in mirror of the sonata’s opening where the long journey had begun.

The incomparable final sonata rightfully occupied the entire second half. The valedictory work opened in contemplative stillness, punctuated by silence (a theme that connected to Mark Nepo’s moving talk at the Kalamazoo Public Library earlier in the day, a further event hosted by the Gilmore). Rumbles in the bass undulated as tolling bells, and the development built to coruscating tension. A dotted rhythm underpinned the Andante sostenuto, giving way to an urgent lyricism that was simply heavenly. The scherzo marked a sudden shift to the jovial, given with carefree abandon, an ethos that continued into the good-natured finale that amounted to a satisfying, all-encompassing close. Still, Lewis found great variety, employing something of a chiaroscuro effect as shadows emerged in sharp relief, in due course bringing the sonata – and Lewis’ cycle as a whole – to a bold close.

Notice the tablet displaying the Andantino from D959!

Columbus Symphony offers invigorating survey of 20th- and 21st-century works with Natasha Paremski

Columbus Symphony Orchestra
Rossen Milanov, conductor 
Natasha Paremski, piano
Ohio Theatre
Columbus, OH
May 3, 2024

Lutosławski: Symphony No. 1
Rachmaninoff: Rhapsody on a Theme of Paganini, Op. 43
Clyne: This Moment
Strauss: Suite from Der Rosenkavalier, Op. 59

Last weekend’s Columbus Symphony program was of particularly inspired and enterprising programming, traversing three works from various points of the 20th-century, and a fourth work composed just last year. Witold Lutosławski was at the vanguard of midcentury modernism, and like Shostakovich and Prokofiev, saw his works heavily repressed by the communist authorities. Such was certainly the case for his First Symphony, composed 1941-47 – composed during and in the immediate aftermath of WWII – which was suppressed for a decade after its first performance.

Natasha Paremski, Rossen Milanov, and the Columbus Symphony

It’s a landmark work, to be sure, brimming with the composer’s individual voice but readily accessible, and kudos to Milanov for giving the first Columbus hearing. In his spoken introduction, the conductor reminisced about meeting Lutosławski while a student in Pittsburgh. Cataclysmic beginnings were to be had in the work, uncompromisingly expressing the bleak spirit of the times – much to the chagrin of the Soviet apparatchiks. The brass provided a certain sheen of brightness, and piano and harp further added to the colorful scoring.

An extended slow movement saw low strings underpinning a horn solo, giving some semblance of peace after the cacophony of the preceding, but not without a certain unease with its pained lyricism. A flowing solo passage from concertmaster Joanna Frankel ranged from the subdued to the impassioned. The Allegretto misterioso was eerie and mysterious, and its fleeting quality reminded me of the Schattenhaft from Mahler’s Seventh. A shimmering interlude near the movement’s close was quite striking before the finale returned to the vigor of the opening. Hats off to the CSO for a blistering performance of a complex score.

Rachmaninoff’s Rhapsody on a Theme of Paganini was certainly more familiar territory, and brought forth Natasha Paremski as soloist. Paremski was further on hand for a preconcert interview with Milanov (as a sidebar: could Milanov please let his guests speak uninterrupted?). Matters began with a thundering articulation of the skeleton of the ubiquitous theme, and Paremski took things at a rapid, unsentimental tempo, supported by her impressive fingerwork. Variation 7 introduced the Dies irae theme in a meditative manner before building to crashing double octaves. Variation 18 was suitably sumptuous while skirting the saccharine, and Paremski had no shortage of pianistic fireworks in the final variations before the flippant closing gesture.

Anna Clyne’s This Moment came about on commission from the League of American Orchestras, as part of an initiative to proliferate music by women composers. The title alludes to a quote from Buddhist monk Thich Nhat Hanh: “this moment is full of wonders.” The work further invokes quotes from the Kyrie and Lacrimosa of Mozart’s Requiem, which Milanov helpfully had orchestra members demonstrate (and in the present context, perhaps also offered a thematic connection to the Dies irae from the Rachmaninoff). Meditative stillness seemingly stretched the moment, building to more strident material. It’s an appealing piece, but ultimately its six-minute duration didn’t make the strongest impression as a standalone work.

A suite from Strauss’ opera Der Rosenkavalier closed the evening. From bar one, the Ohio Theatre was enveloped in its lush, honeyed, excess. I was struck by the richness of the strings, as well as fine playing from the winds with a standout oboe solo. The Ochs-Waltzes were elegant, stylish, and echt-Viennese, and the suite crested to searing passion.

Preconcert interview with Paremski and Milanov

A devilish afternoon at the Pittsburgh Symphony

Pittsburgh Symphony Orchestra
Manfred Honeck, conductor
Leif Ove Andsnes, piano

Women of the Mendelssohn Choir of Pittsburgh
Daniel Singer, director

Heinz Hall
Pittsburgh, PA
April 21, 2024

Rachmaninoff: Piano Concerto No. 3 in D minor, Op. 30
 Encore:
 Chopin: Mazurka in D major, Op. 33 No. 2
Liszt: Dante Symphony, S109

Sunday afternoon’s Pittsburgh Symphony performance began on a somber note, with a moment of silence in memoriam of Sir Andrew Davis, who served as the PSO’s artistic advisor from 2005-07. Music director Manfred Honeck offered a few words and dedicated the performance to Davis’ memory. On a personal note, I have fond memories of seeing Davis often during his two decade stint at Lyric Opera of Chicago, and caught him in robust form as recently as last June with the Minnesota Orchestra.

Leif Ove Andsnes with Manfred Honeck and the Pittsburgh Symphony, photos credit George Lange

The first half of the program was devoted to Rachmaninoff’s fiendishly difficult Third Piano Concerto, calling upon Leif Ove Andsnes as soloist. A barren, monastic melody opened, direct and undiluted in its expression before complexities multiplied. Andsnes drew a bold and robust tone, amply projecting through the hall and over the large orchestra. The PSO was a fine partner to the pianist, with some particularly sturdy playing from the brass. Andsnes opted for the larger of the two cadenzas the composer supplied, cresting to a thunderous climax.

The opening of the central intermezzo offered a rare respite for the piano, a strained paragraph for strings and winds to introduce a ravishing melody in the piano, increasingly impassioned. The finale proceeded as an electric march, with a grand, sweeping melody at the heart. One was kept at the edge of their seat through the sparkling coda in this bombshell of a performance. Andsnes returned for an encore in Chopin’s D major mazurka (op. 33 no. 2), bringing out the dance’s stylish rhythms and ineffable charm.

Matters went from warhorse to rarity with the latter half seeing a rare outing of Liszt’s Dante Symphony, an extensive work the composer wrote moved by his reading of the Divine Comedy (and a companion of sorts to the better-known Dante Sonata). This weekend marked the belated Pittsburgh premiere of the work, though I’ve had the unexpected fortune of seeing it elsewhere over the last few years – Chicago (2017) and Columbus (2022). Two large movements represent the Inferno and Purgatorio respectively; not feeling music could adequately represent Paradisio, Liszt instead opted to close with a brief Magnificat that employs a female choir.

Low brass opened in an uncompromising descent to hell, with thundering timpani further conjuring the inferno in no uncertain terms. A bit overblown, perhaps, but Honeck and the PSO were strong advocates of the work and offered a compelling interpretation. A lyrical contrast was provided in material that represented Francesca da Rimini, conveyed by the bass clarinet and harp. With a certain inevitability, the movement was brought to a bleak, crashing close – with all hope duly abandoned.

Purgatorio was far more at peace in music that appropriately suggested a sense of stasis. A fine passage for oboe was a highlight, as well as a moving chorale for low brass – here, no longer a menacing force. The closing Magnificat offered a spiritual glimpse of the divine, with the angelic voices of the women of the Mendelssohn Choir coming from backstage. High strings and harp further conveyed the celestial in this closing hymn, a touchingly beautiful statement that Wagner no doubt looked towards when writing the final moments of Parsifal.

Daniel Singer leads the Women of the Mendelssohn Choir from backstage

Goerne and Kissin join forces for an afternoon of song

Matthias Goerne, baritone
Evgeny Kissin, piano
Mandel Concert Hall
Severance Music Center
Cleveland, OH
April 14, 2024

Schumann: Dichterliebe, Op. 48
Brahms: Four Ballades, Op. 10
Brahms: Sommerabend, Op. 85 No. 1 
Brahms: Mondenschein, Op. 85 No. 2 
Brahms: Der Tod, das ist die kühle Nacht, Op. 96 No. 1 
Brahms: Meerfahrt, Op. 96 No. 4
Brahms: Lieder und Gesänge, Op. 32

Encore:
Schumann: Mein Wagen rollet langsam, Op. 142 No. 4

In the this season’s final installment of Severance Music Center’s admirable recital series, two artists who exemplify their instruments came together for an intimate lieder recital: baritone Matthias Goerne and pianist Evgeny Kissin. On a side note, it’s lovely to see Kissin become a more regular presence in Cleveland following his return after a long absence – and he is on tap for next season’s recital series as well.

Evgeny Kissin and Matthias Goerne at Severance Music Center

The first half was devoted to Schumann’s epochal song cycle Dichterliebe. Sixteen songs go by in a flash as quicksilver vignettes, each occupying a rarefied state that we only get to visit for a fleeting moment. Goerne’s vocal command showed this to be a work firmly in his repertoire, and Kissin responded in kind with probing accompaniment. Though a month premature, the opening Im wunderschönen Monat Mai began matters gentle and longing, only to be upended by the subsequent Aus meinen Tränen sprießen which contrasted in its melancholy. The thunderous Im Rhein, im heiligen Strome was a standout, answered by the familiar Ich grolle nicht, given an exultant and impassioned reading, anchored by the pianist’s bass octaves. As the most extended song of the set, the closing Die alten, bösen Lieder was powerful and bracing, only to close with pensive postlude for piano alone.

The latter half gave Kissin a moment in the spotlight, opening with Brahms’ four Ballades for solo piano – and for this listener, the highlight of the afternoon. The first, nicknamed Edward after the eponymous Scottish poem, was a stately, almost royal, processional, building to a powerful climax – especially so for such a brief work. In the chordal passages, Kissin’s nuanced voicing yielded a wondrous effect. The second followed a similar trajectory, with gentle beginnings giving way an animated, march-like central section. The following ballade was rather more animated, inflected by Hungarian rhythms (a Brahms favorite), while the final piece was Schumannesque in its poetry, languorous and lyrical, rapturously beautiful under Kissin’s hands.

Lieder by Brahms filled out the balance of the program, a composer whose path used Schumann’s influence as a signpost to discover his own individual voice. Four settings of Heinrich Heine (the poet of Dichterliebe) were culled from opp. 85 and 96. The pair captured the sultry atmosphere of Sommerabend; the closing line “Schimmern in dem Mondenscheine” made for a seamless segue to Mondenschein wherein the luminous moonlight dispelled the darkness. Meerfahrt, by comparison, was a stormier affair.

The nine Lieder und Gesänge of opus 32 were given a deeply expressive reading, evident from the opening Wie rafft’ ich mich auf in der Nacht, further conveyed by the substantial piano accompaniment. Two distinct poets were traversed across the set (August von Platen and Georg Friedrich Daumer), making it not quite as cyclical and coherent as Dichterliebe, but arguably a work which probed greater range and variety. Wehe, so willst du mich wieder made for an emphatic midpoint ahead of the sorrowful Du sprichst, daß ich mich täuschte. Peace was found, however, in the closing Wie bist du, meine Königin, arriving at a blissful state not unlike where the recital began with Im wunderschönen Monat Mai.

The duo returned full circle to Schumann for the lone encore of the late song Mein Wagen rollet langsam, wherein gently flowing textures were countered by more urgent martial material.

Sara Davis Buechner joins Columbus Symphony in Viennese program

Columbus Symphony Orchestra
Rossen Milanov, conductor 
Sara Davis Buechner, piano
Ohio Theatre
Columbus, OH
April 5, 2024

Haydn: Symphony No. 82 in C major, Hob. I:82, The Bear
Mozart: Symphony No. 31 in D major, K297, Paris
Beethoven: Piano Concerto No. 1 in C major, Op. 15

Encore:
Gershwin: The Man I Love

This weekend’s Columbus Symphony program traversed Haydn, Mozart, and Beethoven, all of whom spent most of their professional life in Vienna, and crystallized and embodied what we now know as the Classical style. Though a Viennese evening, the first two selections were associated with Paris, beginning with Haydn’s Symphony No. 82. The first of the six so-called Paris symphonies, it and its successors were written on commission for performances in the French capital throughout 1786.

Sara Davis Buechner, Rossen Milanov, and the Columbus Symphony

Despite its numerical order, No. 82 was the last of the Paris symphonies to be composed. The rather heavy-handed opening lumbered forward, soon to be countered by a gentler theme in a back and forth with the more martial material. The development introduced some piquant dissonances that to my ears seemed to anticipate those in Beethoven’s Eroica. Haydn showed himself master of the double variation in the Allegretto. The finale was marked by a sustained drone, giving rise to the work’s ursine nickname, imitating the music used to accompany the barbaric practice of dancing bears, in any case, themes of folk inflection gave the symphony a spirited close.

Though the program was presented chronologically by composer, Mozart’s Paris symphony (no. 31) predates Haydn’s by almost a decade. A bold opening – and perhaps a bit overbearingly so Friday night – showcased the expanded orchestra (inclusive of clarinets, the first Mozart symphony to employ them), a quantity that must have dazzled Parisian audiences at the time. Delicately drawn-out melody made the central slow movement especially lyrical, and the finale was a pristine balance of both abandon and sophistication.

The first of Beethoven’s five genre-defining piano concertos brought forth Sara Davis Buechner as soloist. A gentle theme brimming with playful potential was heard from the orchestra, though the time-honored tradition of an orchestral introduction is a device the composer would jettison in his later works in the medium. Buechner’s entry was an elegant affair, deftly ornamented and replete with smooth runs across the keyboard, engaging in an energetic conversation with the orchestra. Though the work still very much bears the influence of Mozart, a lyrical flourish several minutes in unmistakably showed Beethoven’s individual stamp. Buechner’s snappy rhythmic punctuations and dynamic contrasts imbued the performance with excitement, and especially so in the wide-ranging cadenza of her own device (though perhaps not as wide-ranging as the one Alkan supplied for the Third Concerto!).

The Largo was gorgeous and serene, a mood sustained by the delicate cantilena in the piano. Quite a contrast to the Allegro scherzando finale which rivaled the mischievousness of his teacher Haydn – and moreover, in this case a nod to one Andreas Hofer – and Buechner offered a reading with flexibility and freedom. An enthusiastic reception brought her back for an encore which she introduced as “an unnecessary delay before my first martini” – a delay we’re grateful for, as it proved to be a lovely and sultry account of Gershwin’s The Man I Love.

Buechner and Milanov during the preconcert conversation

Rare Rachmaninoff anchors Columbus Symphony’s decidedly D minor program

Columbus Symphony Orchestra
Rossen Milanov, conductor
Elina Vähälä, violin
Ohio Theatre
Columbus, OH
March 22, 2024

Mozart: Overture to Don Giovanni, K527
Sibelius: Violin Concerto in D minor, Op. 47
Rachmaninoff: Symphony No. 1 in D minor, Op. 13

All three works on last night’s Columbus Symphony program were cast in the stormy key of D minor, a programming choice that seemingly mirrored the gloomy, rainy conditions outside the Ohio Theatre (Beethoven also chose that key for his Tempest sonata). The overture to Mozart’s great opera Don Giovanni is always an effective and attention-grabbing curtain-raiser. Beginning unequivocally bold and tragic, contrasting material was given briskly and with crisp articulation.

Preconcert conversation with Elina Vähälä and Rossen Milanov

Jean Sibelius’s Violin Concerto brought forth soloist Elina Vähälä who shares the composer’s Finnish heritage (though she spent the first part of her childhood in Iowa). Hesitant tremolos in the orchestra opened, with Vähälä’s lyrical, dark-hued solo line taking shape. She delivered with a passion that was fiery yet never showy, not the least in the extended cadenza. A slow movement followed in songful fashion, growing in intensity with a series of searing, rising trills. The foot-tapping rhythmic vitality of the finale left one in good spirits after the Nordic chill of the preceding.

The premiere of Rachmaninoff’s First Symphony is one of music history’s greatest disasters. The most ambitious work to date from the composer then in his early twenties, the first performance of the complex score suffered from inadequate rehearsal time and a purportedly inebriated Alexander Glazunov at the podium. The symphony – despite showing enormous promise – was all but forgotten until after the composer’s death, and Rachmaninoff fell into a deep depression that impeded his ability to write for the next few years. Friday night marked its very belated Columbus premiere, and credit to Milanov and the CSO for shedding light on an unjustly neglected work.

A triplet motif opens all four movements; in the first, it signaled a plunge into darkness. Despite being a youthful work, so many of the hallmarks one associates with Rachmaninoff are already very much apparent: sweeping melodies, colorful orchestrations, folk-inflected themes, and use of the plainchant Dies irae. This is in fact the composer’s first appropriation of Dies irae, a theme that would virtually become his calling card, wandering through so much of his output – and here it was given a particularly scintillating treatment about halfway through the opening movement.

The lilting Allegro animato was a bit gentler, though not immune from the somber Dies irae which acted as a binding agent throughout the work. A Larghetto was a calming interlude, if not quite reaching the heartwrenching heights of the slow movements the composer would become famous for, though an extended clarinet solo seemed to predict that of the Second Symphony. Delicate dialogue between concertmaster Joanna Frankel and principal cello Luis Biava was a further highpoint. A swashbuckling march theme opened the finale, swelling to searing melody in true Rachmaninoff-ian fashion. In the closing moments, the tempo slowed considerably for a coda with gravitas – and at long last, a brief glimpse of D major.

Rosamunde Quartet anchors Linton Chamber Music program with sublime Beethoven

Rosamunde String Quartet
First Unitarian Church of Cincinnati
Cincinnati, OH
March 3, 2024

Haydn: String Quartet in C major, Op. 20 No. 2, Hob. III:32
Puts: Credo
Beethoven: String Quartet No. 15 in A minor, Op. 132

Something of a supergroup amongst string quartets, the Rosamunde is comprised of current or former members of the Berlin, New York, and Los Angeles philharmonics, affording these players an opportunity to supplement their orchestral responsibilities by indulging in their love of chamber music. Their Sunday afternoon program at Cincinnati’s Linton Chamber Music offered two major classical period quartets sandwiching a more recent expression in the medium.

Rosamunde String Quartet at Linton Chamber Music. L-R Nathan Vickery, Shanshan Yao, Teng Li, Noah Bendix-Balgley

Dubbed the “father of the sting quartet,” Haydn virtually invented the form – and it was the set of six that comprise the watershed opus 20 in particular that earned him the title. Collectively known as the Sun Quartets owing to an early edition’s cover illustration, the Rosamunde selected the second quartet, in the sunny key of C major. A rather mellow beginning was had with the first violin absent from the opening few bars, and there was a particularly robust part for cello – Haydn was at his most lyrical here. A slow movement was stern and solemn, perhaps a look back towards the Baroque stylistically, but the latter section was truly radiant – and fittingly timed with the late afternoon sunlight streaming through the church’s stained glass windows.

A minuet followed without pause, much more restrained than typical for the composer, and a trio contrasted in the minor. Though less of a hallmark of Haydn’s later quartets, half of opus 20 concludes with a fugue. The four-voice fugue that closed the present example evidenced the Rosamunde’s incisive clarity and taut communication.

A 2007 work by Kevin Puts took the string quartet to the present day. On commission from the Miró Quartet, Puts was tasked with writing a work to capture the “lighter side of America,” a requirement he found quite a challenge given the backdrop of wars in the Middle East and mass shootings back home. The resulting Credo painted short vignettes which inspired feelings of hope in some fashion.

The Violin Guru of Kantonah brought to life an instrument maker in the titular New York town. Improvisatory in character, it seemed to gingerly experiment with the different possibilities of the instruments, and a cross-section of excerpts from the violin repertoire surfaced in the first violin. Infrastructure was inspired by the bridges and highways the composer passed taking the path along the Monongahela River in Pittsburgh. Guttural and motoric, it depicted the marvels of industry with vigor.

Intermezzo: Learning to Dance recollected when Puts observed a mother teaching her daughter how to dance, its nostalgic lyricism capturing a sweet moment. The Pittsburgh tableau was reprised with the vigor turned up one more notch before the closing Credo, the heart of the piece. Puts purveyed a resonant lyricism, grappling and questioning for answers, ultimately finding a peaceful if inconclusive resolution.

Beethoven’s monumental opus 132 completed the program. Somewhat in the manner of where the Puts left off, Beethoven’s penultimate quartet began searching and musing, with the opening movement finding its footing in material that the Rosamunde gave with a rich sonority, a wide-ranging essay that culminated in a blistering coda. The crux of the work came in the central Heiliger Dankgesang, unfolding as a deeply-felt hymn. In his spoken remarks, violinist Noah Bendix-Balgley suggested a connective thread between the Puts and Beethoven in that both find hope in difficult times (in Beethoven’s case, in the wake of recovering from serious illness). At times the mood was simply ecstatic, an expression of joy all too uncommon for the tragic composer. The brief march that followed was rather quotidian by comparison, bringing matters back down to the earthly, and providing a moment of levity before the pathos-laden finale.

Vadim Gluzman returns to ProMusica to lead neighborhood series

ProMusica Chamber Orchestra
Vadim Gluzman, violin & leader
Donna Conaty, oboe
Nadine Hur, flute
Aya Hamada, harpsichord

St Mary Catholic Church
Columbus, OH
February 25, 2024

Bach: Concerto for Oboe and Violin in C minor, BWV 1060
Silvestrov: Excerpts from Silent Music
Bach: Brandenburg Concerto No. 5 in D major, BWV 1050
Mendelssohn: String Symphony No. 10 in B minor

In his first appearance of the current concert season, ProMusica’s creative partner Vadim Gluzman led the ensemble in the Neighborhood Series, an event that sees the group perform outside the confines of their usual home in the Southern Theatre. Sunday’s afternoon performance in German Village drew a capacity crowd for a program that featured ProMusica players as soloists in Bach concertos, interspersed with works scored for string orchestra.

ProMusica at St Mary, photos credit ProMusica

Bach’s Double Concerto for Oboe and Violin brought forth Gluzman along with oboist Donna Conaty. Gluzman served dual role as a dynamic leader and charismatic soloist, sparking a fine chemistry with Conaty. The pair gave the piece an energetic workout, though perhaps most touching was the slow movement’s singing line in the oboe deftly answered by the violin.

This weekend marked the two year anniversary of the Russian invasion of Ukraine, and meaningfully, a work from Gluzman’s Ukrainian compatriot Valentin Silvestrov followed, as the conductor-violinist put it, “in hope of a better tomorrow.” The deeply reflective Silent Music dates from 2002, and is cast in three movements – though ProMusica opted to play only the first two. Solemn strings opened the Waltz of the Moment, and a wistful waltz gesture eloquently took shape. Evening Serenade occupied a similar space, marked by a melody gently cascading.

Bach’s Brandenburg Concerto No. 5 was quite a contrast, being in the highest of spirits. It boasted substantial solo parts for flute (Nadine Hur) and harpsichord (Aya Hamada). The flute offered a lyrical presence throughout, and the sparkling, bright effect of the harpsichord captured one’s attention, above all, in the cadenza. One of the single most impressive moments in all of Bach’s keyboard writing (which is saying a lot!), Hamada purveyed a self-assured virtuosity.

Between the ages of twelve and fourteen, the astonishingly precocious Mendelssohn wrote a set of twelve string symphonies. No. 10 closed the afternoon’s program, a single movement conception that opened in the lushness of the strings. More animated material took flight, providing glimmers of the gossamer textures that would come to define the very word Mendelssohnian.

Nadine Hur, Aya Hamada, and Vadim Gluzman perform Bach