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

Isidore String Quartet makes Chamber Music Columbus debut in wide-ranging program

Isidore String Quartet
Southern Theatre
Columbus, OH
February 24, 2024

Dinuk Wijeratne: The Disappearance of Lisa Gherardini
Aida Shirazi: umbra
Bach: Contrapunctus I-IV from The Art of Fugue, BWV 1080
Britten: String Quartet No. 2 in C Major, Op. 36

Chamber Music Columbus’ February program introduced the youthful Isidore String Quartet. All recent Juilliard grads, the quartet has already been acknowledged with an Avery Fisher Career Grant and first prize at the Banff International String Quartet Competition. Their Saturday night program at the Southern Theatre was refreshingly diverse and enterprising.

Isidore Quartet at the Southern Theatre, photo credit Chamber Music Columbus

A 2022 work from Sri Lankan composer Dinuk Wijeratne opened, a quantity this ensemble first encountered at the Banff Competition. The Disappearance of Lisa Gherardini recounts in musical – and quite theatrical – terms the 1911 heist of the Mona Lisa from Louvre. A cello melody opened, suggesting the genesis of the painting, with the others dispersed around the stage, playing gestures that in the composer’s own words “evoke gentle brushstrokes.” A central section suggested the heist, scheming and unsettling, while the cello resounded again in the concluding material, signifying the painting at last returned to its rightful place.

Iranian composer Aida Shirazi was represented with the 2011 work umbra, a title meant to evoke “a process in which the musical events unfold glacially.” Extensive use was made of extended techniques – harmonics and quarter-tones which painted an otherworldly soundscape, all but dissipating into the ether upon its conclusion.

Though generally performed on the keyboard, Bach’s crowning Art of Fugue has a long tradition of being appropriated for other instruments. The first four Contrapunctus were given in exacting transcription for string quartet. The second violin introduced the stately theme, with the transcriptions arranged in such a way that each instrument rotated giving the first presentation of the subject. The quartet boasted a sharp contrapuntal clarity, particularly evident in the fearsome complexities of the final selection. The string quartet is a medium that came after the composer’s time, but Isidore certainly made a compelling case for listening to Bach through this lens.

The program closed with Britten’s String Quartet No. 2, dating from 1945 – a watershed year in British history as well as the 250th anniversary of Henry Purcell’s death, both of which are central to the quartet. Wide-spaced texturing characterized the opening movement, a plaintive atmosphere in due course interrupted by more energetic material. The scherzo movement was in turn a ferocious if brief affair, putting Isidore’s virtuosity on full display.

The closing Chacony (as chaconne would have been spelled in Purcell’s time and place) is the most overt nod to the elder composer, and the heart of the work, clocking in at more than the first two movements combined. Its theme was derived from Purcell’s Chacony in G minor, Z730, and three groups of six variations respectively explored the source material’s harmony, rhythm, and counterpoint. Solo cadenzas punctuated each grouping, and a final set of three variations offered a lush chordal finale.

Pianist Claire Huangci returns to Columbus Symphony with Tchaikovsky

Columbus Symphony Orchestra
Carl St. Clair, conductor
Claire Huangci, piano
Ohio Theatre
Columbus, OH
February 23, 2024

Wineglass: Alone Together
Tchaikovsky: Piano Concerto No. 1 in B-flat minor, Op. 23
 Encore:
 Gershwin/Wild: Embraceable You
Brahms: Symphony No. 4 in E minor, Op. 98

Last weekend’s Columbus Symphony concerts brought forth guest conductor Carl St. Clair, currently – and remarkably – in his 34th season as music director of the Irvine, California-based Pacific Symphony. Headlining the performance was pianist Claire Huangci, returning to the Ohio Theatre following a memorable debut two seasons ago. Prefacing the pianistic centerpiece was a local premiere by John Wineglass, perhaps best known for his work in television scoring – most notably for All My Children, garnering him six Emmy nominations.

Carl St. Clair, photo credit pacificsymphony.com

Alone Together dates from 2021, in the throes of the pandemic, and was premiered virtually by St. Clair and his California ensemble on the first anniversary of the murder of George Floyd. Scored for strings, harp, and percussion, it documents a challenging time in recent history (a recording may be heard here). The opening “Strange Pandemic Times” was marked by unsettling harmonics, though generally lushly tonal and reflective. A pulsating drum ominously sounded, taking a darker turn before the closing “A Ray of Hope.” The harp had a calming effect and introduced an appealing melody, but ultimately felt to this listener more akin to “feel-good” music than a work that fully captured the depth of the subject matter.

Tchaikovsky’s evergreen First Piano Concerto was a fitting platform for Huangci’s virtuosity. A bold, brassy opening pointed to the thunderous chords in the piano, but I found the pianist’s approach perplexing at best. She was wont to rapidly release her hands from the keyboard, almost as if the keys were hot to the touch. Not only did this make for an odd visual, but the tone yielded was rarely more than surface-level, inadequate to project over the large orchestra and throughout the cavernous theater – especially apparent in the rapid double octaves which came off rather feeble. Still, I found her technique impressive and effective in the elegant cadenza.

The Andantino semplice opened with pizzicato strings and a lovely flute solo. The pianist seemed at her finest in these more lyrical and restrained moments, including a touching bit of dialogue with cellist Luis Biava. The fiery finale was at heart a lively folk dance, likely of Ukrainian origin. As an encore, Huangci offered the great Earl Wild’s transcription of Gershwin’s Embraceable You – impressive fingerwork colored by sweet, jazz-inflected harmonies.

Brahms’ Fourth Symphony concluded the program. The work’s long journey embarked with a gentle dip in the strings. St. Clair had a keen sense of structure and pacing, though there was something to be desired with regard to balance, given that the brass were often too much in the foreground. The slow movement boasted some lovely string playing, contrasting the stentorian brass, while the scherzo saw jubilation amidst the work’s severity. Eight powerful chords made the spine of the closing passacaglia, its variations unfolding with dignified purpose.

Stewart Goodyear joins forces with the Daedalus Quartet at Philadelphia Chamber Music Society

Daedalus Quartet
Stewart Goodyear, piano
Perelman Theater
Kimmel Center for the Performing Arts
Philadelphia, PA
February 11, 2024

Haydn: String Quartet in D Major, Op. 1 No. 3, Hob. III:3
Goodyear: Piano Quintet, Hommage a Beethoven
Brahms: Piano Quintet in F Minor, Op. 34

Sunday afternoon at the Perelman Theater saw the Philadelphia Chamber Music Society present the Daedalus Quartet. Their program began with an early entry of Haydn’s vast series of sixty-eight string quartets. Cast in five movements, the D major quartet from opus 1 is in some ways more akin structurally to the Baroque suite with its alternating tempos than the form the composer would later crystallize. The opening Adagio was given with transparency and balance. A stylish triple meter marked the pair of minuets. The central and final movements bore a Presto tempo indication; rapid, buoyant energy made them spirited if brief affairs.

Stewart Goodyear and Daedalus Quartet at the Perelman Theater

String quartet subsequently blossomed to piano quintet with the addition of Stewart Goodyear, donning the dual mantle of pianist-composer. In its Philadelphia premiere, Goodyear’s own Piano Quintet filled the balance of the first half. Subtitled Hommage a Beethoven, the work is filled with a panoply of allusions to the earlier composer. The opening Passacaglia was built around a theme from the Ninth Symphony. Tremolos punctuated the bass line on which the variations were built, and matters were skillfully textured such that the bold piano didn’t outsize the string players.

Mercurial fragments coalesced in the Scherzo, alluding to the Bagatelle, Op. 126 No. 4. A central Air was cast for strings alone – something of a lamentation, it was rather un-Beethovenian in its long-bowed melody, but looked back to the composer’s Baroque inspirations. This was followed by a Minuet, coloristic and chromatic, an almost impressionistic deconstruction of the venerable dance form. A wide-ranging and kinetic Toccata closed the work. Eclectic in inspiration, I caught nods to the Moonlight and Appassionata sonatas among others, varied by some unusual timbres inclusive of tapping the cello body, col legno strings, and plucking the piano.

One of the exemplary works in the form closed the recital, namely Brahms’ Piano Quintet in F minor, Op. 34. A broad theme grew in impassioned urgency, with the ensemble yielding a quasi-orchestral sonority. Almost Schubertian in its spaciousness, the movement pointed towards a forceful coda. All was suddenly at peace in the slow movement, with the richly lyrical piano decorated by the strings.

The Scherzo saw hypnotically repeated figures building to searing intensity, contrasted by its songful trio. Brahms extensively makes use of syncopation here, and my thoughts turned to the recently-departed Peter Schickele: in a memorable episode of his inimitable radio program Schickele Mix, he colorfully illustrated how this movement can be seen as a precursor to American ragtime. Soul-searching introductory material opened the finale. Its primary theme first surfaced sumptuously in the cello, proceeding sprightly but lyrical at heart, and the bold, uncompromising close evidenced Goodyear and the Daedalus as polished collaborators.

Unfamiliar Dawson symphony highlights Columbus Symphony’s eclectic program

Columbus Symphony Orchestra
Rossen Milanov, conductor
Steven Banks, alto saxophone
Ohio Theatre
Columbus, OH
February 4, 2024

Stravinsky: Suite from The Firebird (1919)
Tomasi: Concerto for Alto Saxophone
Dawson: Negro Folk Symphony

Last weekend saw the Columbus Symphony opening their program with an orchestral favorite before courageously veering firmly into unfamiliar territory. Stravinsky’s Firebird, presented in its most commonly heard 1919 suite, made for a glittering opening. Ominous rumbling in the low strings set the mood and built tension. A warm and gracious theme of folk origin marked the “Dance of the Princesses”, most prominently heard in the oboe. The vigor was substantially ramped up in the “Infernal Dance”, with thunderous punctuations from the bass drum, ultimately pointing to the resplendent finale. In his preconcert talk, Christopher Purdy noted that Stravinsky himself conducted the CSO on one occasion in 1968.

Steven Banks, photo credit steven-banks.com

Henri Tomasi’s 1949 Concerto for Alto Saxophone brought forth an excellent soloist in Steven Banks. Its misty opening in the orchestra gave way to the lyrical tone of the sax, making the case that this is an instrument that has a place in the concert hall as well as the jazz club. Banks impressed in his rapid fingerwork during the extended cadenza, and the timbre of his instrument offered striking contrast to the rest of the orchestra in this colorful midcentury score. The closing “Giration” again showcased the soloist’s limber flexibility, broadening to a clangorous coda. As an encore, Banks performed “The Lord’s Prayer”, a plaintive spiritual that further showcased the saxophone’s range and variety.

The major discovery of the program came in William Dawson’s Negro Folk Symphony. A substantial work, it puts Dawson in same pantheon as fellow Black composers Florence Price, William Grant Still, or Julia Perry – and served as a meaningful acknowledgment of Black History Month. Written in 1934, it was premiered to acclaim by Leopold Stokowski and the Philadelphia Orchestra, only to soon recede into obscurity. Dawson would revise the work decades later, further fleshing out the percussion section after being inspired by a trip to the African continent. In very recent years, orchestras have begun to rediscover the score – and Philadelphia returned to it once again, producing a Grammy-nominated recording.

The three movements each take their titles from spirituals, and the work is an amalgamation of themes based on spirituals and those of Dawson’s own device. In this regard, he very much took cue from Dvořák who found great inspiration in the spiritual and encouraged American composers to embrace its authenticity. The Bond of Africa opened with a horn call, leading to a paragraph spacious and earthy, and in no hurry to arrive at the percussive coda. The work bore Dawson’s individual stamp and I was struck by the composer’s skillful orchestration and control of form – a shame he didn’t write more.

The crepuscular Hope in the Night was more introspective, and with a prominent passage for English horn (also a favorite instrument of Dvořák). It swelled to climaxes strained and pained – with a striking orchestration for bells. Glimmers of hope shone through in more playful material, but the bells resurfaced in a particularly gripping passage, underpinned by eerily pulsating percussion. I found the closing O, Le’ Me Shine, Shine Like a Morning Star! to be the least convincing, but a warm brass chorale helped bring the work to a radiant close.