the traveler's resource guide to festivals & films
a FestivalTravelNetwork.com site
part of Insider Media llc.
![]() |
The cast of Sanaz Toossi's English (photo: Joan Marcus) |
Photo by Chris Lee
At the outstanding Stern Auditorium—on the night of Thursday, January 30th—I had the exceptional privilege to attend a magnificent concert—presented by Carnegie Hall and continuing a memorable season—of music by Johannes Brahms performed by the extraordinary MET Orchestra under the superb direction of Myung-Whun Chung.
The event opened brilliantly with a marvelous realization of the masterly Violin Concerto in D Major, Op. 77, from 1878, featuring the celebrated virtuoso Maxim Vengerov—for whom, according to the program, “This season marks the start of his three-year tenure as a Carnegie Hall Perspectives artist, which sees him headline more than a dozen concerts, beginning with all of Mozart’s violin concertos in the fall of 2024 and culminating with all of Beethoven’s violin sonatas in 2027.” After the stately introduction to the complex and ambitious, Allegro non troppo initial movement, with the entry of the soloist the music turns emotional but with song-like passages of extraordinary beauty—the movement concludes forcefully and here drew applause. (Vengerov played his own cadenza.) The ensuing, melodious Adagiobegins with an exquisite theme played by the oboe, then recapitulated by the violin, and ends softly. The finale—marked Allegro giocoso, ma non troppo vivace—is ebullient, dynamic and virtuosic and closes triumphantly. An enthusiastic audience response elicited a wonderful encore from Vengerov: Johann Sebastian Bach’s Sarabande from his Partita No. 2 for solo violin.
The second half of the evening was maybe even stronger: a terrific account of the glorious Symphony No. 4 in E Minor, Op. 98. Much of the graceful and Romantic, Allegro non troppo first movement has a pastoral quality but it does not lack for intensity; it finishes powerfully and again here the musicians were rewarded by applause. The tuneful Andante moderato that follows is enchanting but not without dramatic interludes, and ends celestially. The succeeding, exuberant and cheerful Allegro giocoso has some subdued moments but builds to a jubilant close and the Allegro energico e passionato finale, is a chaconne dazzling in its range and intricacy—it concludes affirmatively.
The artists deservedly received a standing ovation.
At Lincoln Center’s wonderful Alice Tully Hall, on the night of Saturday, December 14th, I had the considerable pleasure to attend a superb concert presented by the extraordinary musicians of the Juilliard Orchestra under the exceptional direction of the fabulous Gemma New.
The event started auspiciously with a marvelous rendition of Salina Fisher’s compelling, beautifully orchestrated Kintsugi. In useful notes for the program, Georgeanne Banker—who holds a Master of Music degree in Historical Performance from Juilliard—provides some background on the work:
In mid 16th-century Japan, Zen Buddhist monk Sen-no-Rikyū cultivated a tea room that was “the quintessence of a space of peaceful meditation against the turbulence of the age,” ceramicist and scholar Kumiko Jacolin writes. The tenor of Rikyū's tea ceremony took cues from Zen philosophies including wabi-sabi—seeing beauty in the imperfect and incomplete—and assumed the spirit of ichigo-ichie, or treasuring each encounter, says Jacolin, a tenet that for the tea master was “symbolized by the time shared between the host and guests of the tea room.” Over time, the hand-built tea bowls would naturally chip or crack, yet in Rikyū's room, broken items were treasured rather than discarded: The wear was simply a part of a story, intrinsic to each vessel's essence. Repairs were carefully realized according to a 15th-century technique and “mended by lacquer with gold decoration as ‘kintsugi' (金継ぎ),” Jacolin writes. Literally meaning “gold joining,” kintsugi emerged as a contemplative art and process that not only embodied the beauty of imperfection but made the shattered whole: transfigured, radiant, and resilient.
“Kintsugi is such a striking visual representation of a metaphor that we can all relate to in our own way—the idea of celebrating ‘cracks' or flaws as beautiful parts of ourselves, and finding ways to heal,” composer Salina Fisher said in a recent interview with Pacific Northwest Ballet. “This concept felt particularly relevant in 2020 when I wrote my piano trio Kintsugi.” Commissioned by New Zealand's NZTrio, the work was expanded by the composer for Auckland's Manukau Symphony Orchestra, in 2022. While composing this piece, Fisher met Jacolin to learn more about this beautiful ceramic process: “Rather than hiding the damage, kintsugi celebrates all the cracks or ‘scars' for the unique history that they represent. The object is more beautiful for having been broken,” Fisher notes. “I am personally drawn to kintsugi as a metaphor for embracing ‘brokenness' and imperfection as a source of strength. This piece is my expression and exploration of kintsugi, and involves musical fragmentation, fragility, mending, and finding beauty in the ‘cracks'.”
The annotator adds the following about the composer:
The youngest composer to win New Zealand's SOUNZ Contemporary Award, Fisher studied both composition and violin at the New Zealand School of Music—Te Kōkī before receiving a Fulbright scholar-ship to study at the Manhattan School of Music. Her powerful creative work includes koto improvisations and collaborations with players of taonga pūoro, or traditional Māori instruments, and ranges to prismatic, full-scale compositions for symphony orchestra.
The composer ascended to the stage to receive the audience’s acclaim.
A remarkable soloist, Hankyoung Linda Chang, then joined the artists for an amazing account of William Walton’s underrated Violin Concerto from 1939. The initial, Andante tranquillo movement opens soulfully and then increases in intensity, becoming almost frenetic in tempo, then reverts to a passionate Romanticism, closing very quietly. The virtuosic second movement, marked Presto capriccioso alla napolitana, begins propulsively and agitatedly, preceding an enchanting tarantella—the movement alternates between these modes, ending abruptly. The Vivace finale is ebullient, at times insistent and forceful, but with lyrical moments, concluding triumphantly.
The second half of the evening was even stronger, consisting of a magnificent realization of Gustav Holst’s brilliant, enormously popular The Planets from 1916. The first movement, Mars, the Bringer of War, is menacing, enthralling and rhythmic, while the second, Venus, the Bringer of Peace, is lovely and affirmative, at times Impressionistic and almost pastoral in quality. Mercury, the Winged Messenger, is eccentric and jocular but with expansive passages and Jupiter, the Bringer of Jollity, is stirring and ultimately exultant. Saturn, the Bringer of Old Age, is portentous but also exalting, finishing gently. Uranus, the Magician, is playful and comic but becomes more serious, closing unexpectedly. Lastly, Neptune, the Mystic—which features the splendid Musica Sacra chorus led by the eminent Kent Tritle—is uncanny and numinous, ending ethereally.
The musicians were—deservedly—enthusiastically applauded.