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New York Philharmonic Perform Frolyak & More

Dalia Stasevska conducts Joshua Bell. Photo by Chris Lee

At Lincoln Center’s excellent David Geffen Hall, on the morning of Friday, November 7th, I had the privilege to attend a fine concert presented by the New York Philharmonic, under the distinguished direction of Dalia Stasevska

The event started brilliantly with Aaron Copland’s extraordinary, stirring Fanfare for the Common Man. The celebrated Joshua Bell then entered the stage for an impressive performance as soloist of Thomas de Hartmann’s unsung Concerto for Violin and Orchestra, Op. 66, from 1943. The Largo introduction to the initial movement is lyrical and seemingly wistful; it transitions to a much livelier, playful section of the Allegro main body, but the more elegiac music returns, followed by an extended, more forceful—even martial—episode that, after a solemn cadenza, concludes with a sad dénouement. The slower, ensuing Andante religioso is at times anguished but ultimately affirmative, closing gently, while the more folkish Menuet fantasque that follows contains a lilting, dance-like Trio. The energetic Finale, marked Vivace, builds to a dazzling climax. Enthusiastic applause elicited a delightful encore from the violinist and the ensemble: Frédéric Chopin’s Nocturne, Op. 9, No. 2, arranged by Bell and B. Wallace.

The second half of the concert was even stronger beginning with the admirably realized US premiere of Bohdana Frolyak’s striking Let There Be Light, from 2023. The composer contributed this note on the piece for its premiere:

All the music I write these days is about Ukraine: about its beauty, its uniqueness — and about light, which has to defeat darkness. 

This single-movement work for symphony orchestra is quite a dynamic composition, symbolizing light that takes a path through darkness and back to light. This path is reflected in the musical language of the work. A calm beginning, with lyrical cello and violin solos over a background of coloristic harmonies in strings, and with these solos imitated in woodwinds, leads to a disturbing central section and then a dramatic culmination, at the peak of which we hear a melody in violins and full orchestra with expressive solos for strings. 

Before the end of the work, where peace and an atmosphere of light take the lead, the music immerses itself in dissonant intervals and chords, as if to remind us of the darkness that rules the world. 

The piece closes with a calm, enlightened coda, built on the basis of a clear C major, supplemented with layers of additional intervals and chords which, however, don't interfere with the “sound” of light and quietness.

Probably, the highlight of the program, however, was its beautifully enacted final selection: Benjamin Britten’s remarkable Sinfonia da Requiem, Op. 20, from 1940. About it, in an interview from that year, he explained: 

I'm making it just as anti-war as possible. I don't believe you can express social or political or economic theories in music, but by coupling new music with well known musical phrases, I think it's possible to get over certain ideas. ... 

One's apt to get muddled discussing such things — all I'm sure of is my own anti-war conviction as I write it.

He also contributed the following commentary on the piece for its premiere:

I. Lacrymosa. A slow marching lament in a persistent 6/8 rhythm with a strong tonal center on D. There are three main motives: (1) a syncopated, sequential theme announced by the 'cellos and answered by a solo bassoon; (2) a broad theme, based on the interval of a major seventh; (3) alternating chords on flute and trombones, outlined by the piano and harps. The first section of the movement is quietly pulsating; the second a long crescendo leading to a climax based on the first 'cello theme. There is no pause before —

II. Dies irae. A form of Dance of Death, with occa-sional moments of quiet marching rhythm. The dominating motif of this movement is announced at the start by the flutes and includes an important tremolando figure. Other motives are a triplet repeated-note figure in the trumpets, a slow, smooth tune on the saxophone, and a livelier syncopated one in the brass. The scheme of the movement is a series of climaxes of which the last is the most powerful, causing the music to disintegrate and to lead directly to —

III. Requiem aeternam. Very quietly, over a background of solo strings and harps, the flutes announce the quiet D major tune, which is the principal motif of the movement. 

There is a middle section in which the strings play a flowing melody. This grows to a short climax, but the opening tune is soon resumed and the work ends quietly in a long, sustained clarinet tone.

The first movement, marked Andante ben misurato, begins dramatically and portentously—a certain lugubriousness is sustained throughout and it closes quietly. The Allegro con fuoco, second movement is more impassioned and turbulent, while the finale, with a tempo of Andante molto tranquil, is more subdued—the music intensifies but ends very softly.

The artists deservedly received a standing ovation.

Broadway Play Review—Bess Wohl’s “Liberation”

Liberation
Written by Bess Wohl
Directed by Whitney White
Performances through February 1, 2026
James Earl Jones Theatre, 138 West 48th Street, New York, NY
liberationbway.com
 
The cast of Liberation (photo: Little Fang)
 
Playwright Bess Wohl has a happy talent for astutely observing families and individuals that are either broken or whole; from Make Believe to Grand Horizons, Wohl’s plays understand the constantly shifting push and pull animating such relationships. Her latest, Liberation, continues that steak—to an extent. Based on her mother’s story and cheekily subtitled A Memory Play About Things I Don’t Remember, Liberation is a way for Wohl to work out what her mother and other women of that generation did on behalf of women’s equality a half-century ago and whether it was all for naught.
 
The women of Liberation are from a small town in Ohio and meet in a school gym once a week in the slowly changing 1970s. The lead character is Lizzie, Wohl’s mother’s—and Wohl’s—stand-in, who toggles between both women while breaking the fourth wall to address the audience; she starts a discussion group of local women, not knowing who might show up. But several respond to her flyer, across a convenient spectrum—several white women (one a foreigner) and two Black women—and the play follows their ill-fitting first steps while they slowly gain confidence to have their voices heard in a protest about equal pay for equal work.
 
Alongside the 30ish Lizzie, there’s Margie, in her 50s; Susan, in her early 20s; Celeste, a Black woman in her late 30s; Isidora, an Italian woman around 40; Dora, also in her 20s; and Joanne, a Black woman in her early 30’s. After an initial thawing-out period, they start trusting one another by nudging others to take control of their own situations, whether it’s Margie belatedly realizing her lengthy marriage to a typical caveman of the time has been a sham or Dora leaving her secretarial job after her sexist boss bypasses her for a promotion in order to elevate another “neanderthal,” in Dora’s words. 
 
Although the situations occasionally turn sitcomish or saccharine, Wohl’s truthful dialogue allows her women to speak frankly and with an incisive bite, including hilarious interactions like Margie bringing her husband’s beer to share with the others (”he’s not going to miss it,” she says) or Isidora’s frequent foul-mouthed outbursts. Only Lizzie seems more a symbol than an individual, and Wohl’s decision to include Bill (Lizzie’s future husband and the narrator’s future father) as the play’s lone male is ill-advised not only because the feminine/feminist dynamic is unbalanced whenever he appears but also because such a dramatic crutch is a contrived way to get Wohl’s parents onstage together.
 
There are other missteps, like Joanne standing in for Lizzie in scenes that explore more intimate moments in Wohl’s mother’s and father’s relationship but simultaneously keep them at a safe distance. And the humor can also get arch, as in the opening scene when the women wander into the gym and there’s an argument about whether the “B” that Lizzie wrote on the flyer to denote “basement” looks more like an “8,” causing Isidora to walk all the way upstairs looking for a non-existent high floor.
 
But the uniformly excellent performances of the entire cast—led by Susannah Flood as Lizzie, another in this terrifically personable actress’ series of thoughtful portrayals (including another in Make Believe)—coupled with Whitney White’s empathetic direction on David Zinn’s pinpoint unit set let Liberation be pretty satisfying as a personal and political memory play.

Orchestra of St. Luke’s Performs Beethoven at Carnegie Hall

Photo by Fadi Kheir

At the splendid Stern Auditorium, on the night of Thursday, November 6th, I had the privilege to attend a wonderful concert—presented by Carnegie Hall—of masterworks by Ludwig van Beethoven, including several rarely heard in live performance, featuring the excellent Orchestra of St. Luke’s—admirably conducted by Raphaël Pichon—along with several impressive singers and the outstanding Clarion Choir led by its Director, Steven Fox

The event started promisingly with the seldom rendered Geistlicher Marsch from the lesser-known incidental music for Friedrich Schiller’s play König Stephan, Op. 117, from 1811. This was followed by selections from the poetry of Walt Whitman, recited by Alex Rosen. Another pleasurable surprise was Friedrich Silcher’s Persicher Nachtgesang from 1846—here arranged by Robert Percival—after the magnificent Allegretto from Beethoven’s extraordinary Symphony No. 7 in A Major, Op. 92; Rosen sung the basso part along with mezzo-soprano Beth Taylor, tenor Laurence Kilsby and The Clarion Choir. 

Two beautiful movements ensued from the equally undervalued incidental music from 1815 for the play, Lenore Prohaska, by Johann Friedrich Duncker: first the Romance sung by soprano Liv Redpath, and then the Melodrama. Taylor then recited an excerpt from “Caged Bird” by Maya Angelou, whose autobiography was praised by literary critic Harold Bloom.

The highlight of the evening, inevitably, was its final work, a sterling account of Beethoven’s incredible Symphony No. 9 in D Minor, Op. 125, completed in 1824, which employed all the soloists as well as the chorus. Most of the marvelous initial movement—marked Allegro ma non troppo, un poco maestoso—which opens mysteriously, and seemingly inchoately, interrupted by forceful statements of the primary theme, is alternately lilting and propulsive; it finishes somewhat suddenly and emphatically. The succeeding, often exhilarating and sometimes playful Scherzo—its tempo is Molto vivace—is the most transumptively Mendelssohnian of the movements and it too has a driving rhythm and ends abruptly; the contrasting Trio section has an almost pastoral quality. Like many of the composer’s lyrical slow movements, the one in this piece, an Adagio molto e cantabile, contains some of its most heavenly music and concludes relatively quietly. In the glorious Finale, after what Richard Wagner described as a “fanfare of terror,” the score has a tentative quality until the stirring statement of the famous theme setting Friedrich Schiller’s 1785 poem, the “Ode to Joy,” whereupon the basso enters; it closes triumphantly.

The artists deservedly received a standing ovation.

December '25 Digital Week III

In-Theaters/Streaming Releases of the Week 
Blue Moon 
(Sony Classics)
Ethan Hawke throws himself into playing Broadway lyricist Lorenz Hart—one-half of the immortal team of Rodgers and Hart, creators of such indelible musicals as Babes in Arms and Pal Joey—in Richard Linklater’s mostly inert biopic that concentrates on one day in Hart’s life, the opening night of Oklahoma, the first collaboration of Hart’s former partner Richard Rodgers with Oscar Hammerstein II.
 
 
Set at the venerable theater restaurant Sardi’s, the film has a certain interest for musical theater fans (especially when a young Stephen Sondheim, a protégé of Hammerstein, appears), but Robert Kaplow’s script tries to cram too much into its single setting, taking away from its focus on Hart, who would be dead a few months after this night. Hawke does immerse himself poignantly in the songwriter’s messy personal life, and he’s the main reason to watch until the predictably tragic end.
 
 
 
Sentimental Value 
(Neon)
Danish-Norwegian director Joachim Trier’s latest melodrama explores a fractured family, as film director Gustav returns home after his ex-wife Sissel’s death to tell his two adult daughters—Agnes, a wife, mother and historian; and Nora, a temperamental stage actress having an affair with a married colleague—with the news that he’s making a film (with famous American actress Rachel Kemp) about his mother’s torture as a Nazi resistance fighter leading to her suicide when Gustav was young.
 
 
The complications of family history rear their heads throughout, but Trier concentrates on too many loose ends, like standard-issue stage or on-set sequences that do little to illuminate matters. Stellan Skarsgård is perfectly cast as the boorish but boyish Gustav, Elle Fanning is an excellent Rachel and Renate Reinsve a fine Nora, but Inga Ibsdotter Lilleaas steals each of her scenes as Agnes. Trier should have focused on her instead.
 
 
 
4K/UHD Releases of the Week 
David Byrne’s American Utopia 
(Criterion)
Director Spike Lee and cinematographer Ellen Kuras capture David Byrne’s groundbreaking 2019 Broadway show combining music and movement in exhilarating fashion, centered on Byrne’s unique stage presence, a savant leading his congregation in the holy gospel of song, with Annie-B Parson’s expressive choreography and Bob Sinclair’s inventive lighting visually complementing Byrne’s songs—from early Talking Heads to his recent solo material—accompanied by a dozen musicians, singers and dancers.
 
 
Criterion’s new release comprises a 4K disc of the film, which looks and sounds immaculate; and two Blu-ray discs of the film and two extras: a 55-minute documentary about the show featuring Byrne, Kuras, Parson, and Sinclair, and a short Byrne and Lee conversation, socially distanced, from 2020.
 
 
 
Boogie Nights 
(Warner Bros)
Paul Thomas Anderson’s second feature, made in 1997, is now considered a classic—unaccountably, in my view; this shrill, cartoonish, shallow look at the L.A. porn scene of the late ‘70s and early ‘80s fails as both a satire of and affectionate tribute to its dim denizens.
 
 
In a cast of banal caricatures, Mark Wahlberg and Burt Reynolds come off best; following his auspicious debut Hard Eight, this overstuffed would-be epic is the first of similar films that have dotted Anderson’s career—Magnolia, The Master, Licorice Pizza, One Battle After Another—but I realize I’m in the minority. It all looks great in 4K; extras include commentaries by Anderson and by the cast, American Cinematheque Q&A and deleted scenes.
 
 
 
Blu-ray Release of the Week 
Maria Roumagnac 
(Icarus Films)
Two legends of the silver screen—Marlene Dietrich and Jean Gabin—appeared for the only time together in French director Georges Lacombe’s doomed soap-operaish romance between a shop owner very popular with men and a working-class building contractor, whose jealousy over her sexually adventurous past (and present) pushes him over the edge tragically.
 
 
Despite the stiffness of the characterizations and the dialogue—especially in the climactic court sequence—the onscreen chemistry between Dietrich and Gabin more than compensates. The restored 1946 B&W film looks ravishing on Blu. 
 
 
 
DVD/CD Release of the Week
Nicola Porpora—Polifemo 
(Chateau de Versailles)
Italian composer Nicola Porpora (1686-1768) wanted to challenge reigning opera genius George Frideric Handel at his own game in London, and the result was this 1735 Baroque epic romance populated by the goddess Galatea, the Cyclops, and ordinary men including Ulysses, whose appearance presages a conflict between the gods and the mortals.
 
 
This live performance from Versailles in 2024 is colorfully over-the-top both vocally and visually; it’s too bad that it’s only a DVD instead of superior sharpness of a Blu-ray. Still, it’s nice to have a visual record of this performance, along with three CDs housing the audio recording.

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