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Photo by Jennifer Taylor
At the wonderful Stern Auditorium, on the night of Thursday, April 30th, I had the privilege to attend a splendid concert—presented by Carnegie Hall—featuring the fine musicians of the Orchestra of St. Luke’s, under the distinguished direction of Masaaki Suzuki.
The event started auspiciously with an admirable rendition of Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart’s popular Overture to his magnificent opera, Don Giovanni, from 1787. The renowned virtuoso, Midori, then entered the stage for a memorable performance of Ludwig van Beethoven’s magisterial Violin Concerto in D Major, Op. 61, from 1806. The long, complex, initial, Allegro ma non troppo movement begins somewhat solemnly with an extended introduction that soon becomes more intense before the orchestra states the beautiful, chorale-like, primary theme—with the entry of the soloist, a greater sense of lyricism is afforded. Despite the gravity of much of the movement, the music here ultimately is broadly affirmative in character; after a challenging, suspenseful cadenza, it ends triumphantly.
The ensuing Larghetto has a somewhat stately quality but is song-like too, if much more reflective and inward on the whole, before a dramatic transition to the ebullient—indeed, celebratory—dance-like, Rondo finale. In the latter movement there are, too, more serious, contrasting passages as well as pastoral moments—after a dazzling cadenza, it concludes jubilantly. Enthusiastic applause elicited a welcome encore from Midori: Johann Sebastian Bach’s Largo from his Solo Violin Sonata No. 3 in C Major, BWV 1005.
The highlight of the evening, however, was the last work on the program: a superb account of Felix Mendelssohn’s extraordinary Symphony No. 4 in A Major, Op. 90, the “Italian,” which was originally completed in 1833, but then was revised in 1834. Its fabulous, Allegro vivace, first movement is joyous and quintessentially Mendelssohnian, although more subdued interludes express deeper sentiments; a glorious fugal section is simply astonishing in effect—after a marvelous climax, it closes exultantly. The Andantecon moto that follows is march-like and noble in spirit, if relatively restrained—it finishes softly. The succeeding Con moto moderato projects a certain serenity, despite elements of tension, and ends gently. The Saltarello finale, marked Presto, is propulsive and dynamic, with quieter episodes, but becomes more passionate and concludes forcefully.
The artists deservedly received a standing ovation.
Photo by Brandon Patoc
At Lincoln Center’s wonderful David Geffen Hall, on the night of Saturday, May 2nd, I had the privilege to attend a superb concert presented by the New York Philharmonic, under the brilliant direction of Gustavo Dudamel.
The event started memorably with an exciting New York premiere performance of Ellen Reid’s remarkable Earth Between Oceans from 2025, which was co-commissioned by this ensemble along with the Los Angeles Philharmonic, and featured the marvelous New York Philharmonic Chorus led by Malcolm J. Merriweather. (She has composed another excellent work, Body Cosmic, which was recently played at Carnegie Hall by the Royal Concertgebouw Orchestra.) About the composition, she told the San Francisco Classical Voice:
I wanted a sense of otherworldliness, adding vocals with no text, just oohs and aahs and muttering. The voices blended with the strings and woodwinds that created a haze around the piece that only the human voice can do. We're trained as listeners to hear the voice in ways like no other.
In her program note for the piece, she wrote:
In this work, I took joy in exploring rhythm as a primary compositional element. In Earth, the meter accelerates through the movement, erupting in a guttural peak when the voices from the choir unite for the first time. In Air, a lack of consistent pulse creates a sense of endless space. In Fire, polyrhythms morph, cycle, and grow, and in Water, the rhythm ebbs and flows like the currents of the ocean. Another seismic component to this piece is the large, wordless choir, conceived instrumentally and adding a dynamic timbre to the ensemble.
Earth Between Oceans celebrates the power of nature in conversation with the threats our environment faces. As a metaphor for the concurrent crises affecting our Earth, I captured field recordings while collecting plastic trash at beaches in Los Angeles (Venice, Santa Monica) and New York City (Rockaway Beach, Coney Island). These field recordings are woven throughout the work as connective tissue, a reminder that we live on a planet whose equilibrium is being challenged.
Finally, Earth Between Oceans is dedicated to Gustavo Dudamel, a bridge builder who forges meaningful connections across communities of people from different backgrounds, cultures, ages, classes, and abilities. His fierce positivity and tremendous talents inspire us to think bigger and do better. Therefore, despite the growing political, environmental, and social challenges we face, I felt deeply committed to ending the work with a sense of optimism — even if it feels out of reach.
Reid was present to receive the audience‘s acclaim.
Even more impressive was the second half of the evening, beginning with a sterling realization of Franz Schubert’s seldom heard, extraordinary Song of the Spirits over the Waters, D. 714, from 1821—this also included the Philharmonic Chorus—which is set to a text by Johann Wolfgang von Goethe. This was followed by an exquisite account of Richard Wagner’s glorious Forest Murmurs—from his magnificent 1857 opera, Siegfried—arranged by Hermann Zumpe.
The concert concluded awesomely with a ravishing version of Igor Stravinsky’s stupendous, 1919 Suite from his score for his great ballet, The Firebird. The initial movement—The Firebird and Its Dance and Variation of the Firebird—opens ominously with music that recalls that of Béla Bartók and that turns uncanny and then skittish. The ensuing movement, The Princesses’ Round Dance, is bewitching and emotionally expressive in a way that betrays the composer’s much vaunted formalism, while the next, Infernal Dance of King Kashchei, is portentous, suspenseful, propulsive and turbulent. The succeeding, haunting Lullaby is uncommonly beautiful, and the unforgettable Finale slowly builds in intensity until it attains a stunning apotheosis.
The artists were deservedly, enthusiastically applauded.




