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Schubert & Bruckner With The Vienna Philharmonic

Details: Parent Category: Film and the Arts; Category: Reviews; Published on Tuesday, 04 March 2025 17:08; Written by Jack Angstreich

Photo by Chris Lee

At the extraordinary Stern Auditorium, on the night of Friday, February 28th, I had the pleasure to attend a superb concert presented by Carnegie Hall, the first of three on consecutive days featuring the stellar Vienna Philharmonic under the incomparable direction of Riccardo Muti, one of the greatest living conductors.

The event started auspiciously with an admirable account of Franz Schubert’s excellent Symphony No. 4 in C Minor, D. 417, the “Tragic,” from 1816. In interesting notes on the program by Jack Sullivan, he records some useful background:

One of the earliest defenders of the symphony in America was H. L. Mencken, whose eloquent 1928 article in The American Mercury perceived—at least in the slow movement—the work’s “tragic” qualities: “Of Schubert’s symphonies, the orchestras play the ‘Unfinished’ incessantly—but never too often!—and the huge C Major now and then, but the ‘Tragic’ only once in a blue moon. Yet the ‘Tragic’ remains one of Schubert’s masterworks, and in its slow movement, at least, it rides to the full height of the ‘Unfinished.’ There are not six such slow movements in the whole range of music. It has an eloquence that has never been surpassed, not even by Beethoven, but there is no rhetoric in it, no heroics, no exhibitionism. It begins quietly and simply, and it passes out in a whisper, but its beauty remains overwhelming.”

The initial movement’s Adagio molto introduction is solemn and strongly recalls the music of the composer’s great and inescapable precursor, Ludwig van Beethoven, while its Allegro vivace main body is graceful and much more energetic, although its ethos is on balance more serious than ebullient. The ensuing Andante is somewhat gentler and more Mozartean in spirit—it acquires a quiet urgency at times and is not without dramatic moments. The Menuetto that follows, marked Allegro vivace, has the vigor of a scherzo but it also contains a more subdued Trio section. The propulsive, Allegro finale has a suspenseful quality although it is also surprisingly playful, building to an affirmative conclusion.

The second half of the evening was even more remarkable: a fully assured realization of Anton Bruckner’s magnificent Symphony No. 7 in E Major, completed in 1883. The Allegro moderato first movement opens softly but majestically; bucolic passages lead to bolder orchestral statements—much of it is very Wagnerian—and it finishes celestially. The succeeding Adagio, which is possibly the most beautiful movement that Bruckner ever composed, is elegiac but transcendent; it too reaches an unearthly close. The Scherzo, which is not without its eccentricities, is forceful with dance-like interludes and considerable forward momentum and ends abruptly; the movement’s Trio is altogether more itenic in character. The Finale is somewhat hushed at its outset but the music rapidly intensifies, although more serene episodes alternate with more passionate ones; it attains a glorious climax.

The artists, deservedly, were enthusiastically applauded.

Shostakovich & More with The New York Philharmonic

Details: Parent Category: Film and the Arts; Category: Reviews; Published on Monday, 03 March 2025 15:48; Written by Jack Angstreich

Photo by Brandon Patoc

At Lincoln Center’s marvelous David Geffen Hall, on the night of Saturday, February 22nd, I had the great pleasure to attend a superb New York Philharmonic concert—continuing an excellent season—brilliantly led by the extraordinary Finnish conductor Santtu-Matias Rouvali.

The event started fabulously with a dazzling account of three delightful selections from the orchestral Suite drawn from Dmitri Shostakovich’s Moscow, Cheryomushki, describedin the fine notes for the program by Christopher H. Gibbs—who is “James H. Ottaway Jr. Professor of Music at Bard College and the co-author, with Richard Taruskin, of The Oxford History of Western Music, College Edition—as “an operetta about perennial hous-ing shortages in the Soviet capital.” He adds:

It takes place in the so-called Bird Cherry Tree district, southwest of Moscow, where the government's response to the crisis was to construct high-rise apartment complexes. The satirical operetta tells the story of a group of prospective young tenants seeking places in the newly subsidized housing and of their skirmishes with corrupt bureaucrats.

Shostakovich composed the three-act work in 1957–58 to a libretto by the popular humorists Vladimir Mass and Mikhaíl Chervinsky, and it was premiered in January 1959 at the Moscow Operetta Theatre.

He says further that, “In 1997 Andrew Cornall, a producer and record executive then at Decca, crafted a four-movement suite, of which we hear the first three tonight.” In an article for Soviet Music, Shostakovich wrote:

The composition of an operetta is something new for me. Moscow, Cheryomushki is my first and, I hope, not my last experience in this appealing genre. I worked on it with great enthusiasm and lively interest. I think that what should result from our collaborative efforts. ... should be a cheery, upbeat show. ... There is lyricism in it, and “gags,” assorted interludes, dances, and even an entire ballet scene. Parodistic elements are suggested at times in the musical design, the quotation of popular motives from the not-too-distant past, and even from several songs by Soviet authors.

The initial selection, A Spin through Moscow, is effervescent even in its quieter moments, while the second, the exquisite Waltz, is exceedingly charming, with a more romantic character. Finally, Dances, which begins with a polka, is humorous, irrepressible and buoyant.

An outstanding soloist, Seong-Jin Cho, then entered the stage for an amazing performance of Sergei Prokofiev’s terrific Piano Concerto No. 2 in G minor, Op. 16. In his Soviet Diary of 1927, the composer recorded that, “The charges of surface brilliance and certain ‘soccer-player' tendencies in the First Concerto induced me to strive for greater depth in the Second.” The Andantino introduction to the first movement is moody, slightly eccentric and somewhat mysterious; the music becomes more agitated in the highly virtuosic Allegretto section—it features an astonishing cadenza and ends softly. The very brief Scherzo that follows, marked Vivace, is breathless, propulsive and playful in spirit. The ensuing, forceful Intermezzo—its tempo is Allegro moderato—has an almost sinister quality for much of its length, with some reflective passages, but is nonetheless seductive in its rhythms and closes gently, if abruptly. The Finale, marked Allegro tempestoso, is turbulent but dazzling, although again with subdued, meditative interludes; it builds in intensity to a stunning, sudden conclusion. Enthusiastic applause elicited an enchanting encore from Cho: the wonderful second—Menuet—movement of Maurice Ravel’s Sonatine.

The second half of the evening was also memorable: an awesome realization of Shostakovich’s seldom played, powerful, and allusive Symphony No. 15 in A major, Op. 141, from 1971, his last. The opening Allegretto—which jokingly quotes from the famous overture from the opera, William Tell—is quirky, ludic, bustling and energetic; it finishes unexpectedly. Gibbs says about the composer: “He stated that the first movement ‘describes childhood — just a toyshop, with a cloudless sky above,’ and recalled that Rossini's overture was one of his earliest musical memories.” The succeeding, unusual , lugubrious Adagio begins with a brass chorale and continues, according to Gibbs, “with a series of 12-note melodies for solo cello”; it acquires increasing urgency but with subdued episodes and ends in a hushed manner. Next, the short, Allegretto scherzo is burlesque in sensibility—it too closes surprisingly. Gibbs reports that:

The finale opens with the “Fate” brass quotation from Wagner's Ring alternating with a solo timpani pattern from Siegfried's Funeral March in Götterdämmerung.

This segues into a three-note string pizzicato associated with the “in memorial” section of Shostakovich's own Symphony No. 11, and then to the violins playing the first three notes of Wagner's Tristan und Isolde [ . . . . ]

A very beautiful waltz references Mikhail Glinka’s song, “Do not tempt me needlessly.” Much of the movement is quite solemn and it grows more imposing as it progresses but ends almost ethereally, recalling according to Gibbs, “the conclusion of his suppressed Fourth Symphony.”

The artists deservedly received a standing ovation.

February '25 Digital Week III

Details: Parent Category: Film and the Arts; Category: Reviews; Published on Wednesday, 26 February 2025 19:44; Written by Kevin Filipski

In-Theater Release of the Week

Parthenope

(A24)

Italian director Paolo Sorrentino returns with an exploration of youthful beauty in the form of a beautiful young woman named after a Greek siren, who turns heads—among other things—in her hometown of Naples (aka Parthenope). Celeste Dalla Porta is exquisitely gorgeous; whether she can act is immaterial, since Parthenope is a symbol for whatever the men who ogle her—even her beloved brother and an old, obese priest—want her to be. If the shots of males leering were cut, the movie would probably be an hour shorter. Visually, Sorrentino and cinematographer Daria D’Antonio overload on sumptuousness, but dramatically and thematically it’s trifling.

Sorrentino even brings in Gary Oldman to ham it up mercilessly as drunk novelist John Cheever, whose writings Parthenope happens to adore. Meshing religion and sex is Sorrentino’s prime subject, but even Dalla Porta’s great beauty palls after awhile, and the final shots of just-retired anthropology professor Parthenope (Stefania Sandrelli) watching a celebratory float go by make as little sense as the rest of this long perfume ad—even a 30-second commercial would have more depth.

Streaming Release of the Week

Nosferatu

(Focus Features)

Writer-director Robert Eggers’ latest genre exercise is in many ways his most enervating yet—his unnecessary remake of the old and moldy Dracula/Nosferatu films is overloaded with hysterically overwrought performances; moody but hammy camerawork; more metaphorical packs of rats and shadows than one would expect even from a nervous student film; and a self-indulgent, slow pace that drags this flimsy tale to a torturous running time of 135 minutes.

Even Willem Dafoe, often an amusing overacter, seems flustered by his ridiculous character and dialogue; poor Lily-Rose Depp looks elegant but remains relentlessly dour, while Nicholas Hoult is unable to fashion a real character out of disparate fragments. As for the vampire himself, Bill Skarsgård gives a performance that grows more risible as the film continues.

Blu-ray Releases of the Week

Last Summer

(Janus Contemporaries)

French provocateur Catherine Breillat hadn’t made a film in about a decade following her stroke, but her long-awaited return doesn’t disappoint, as she adapts the Dutch film Queen of Hearts to dissect the relationship—initially antagonistic, then sexual, and finally emotional—of a 40ish wife and mother, Anna, and her teenage stepson, Théo.

The always rigorous Breillat explores the psychological state of Anna—who is also, ironically, a respected lawyer—and, despite a few narrative misplays (a couple important sequences are elided), allows her to tell her truth, even when it’s based on a torrent of lies. As Théo, Samuel Kircher is simultaneously (and plausibly) a child and a young man, while Léa Drucker gives a towering performance of feminine sexual confidence as Anna, a woman who makes wrong decisions and doubles down on them. The film looks fine on Blu; lone extra is a Breillat interview.

Respighi—Maria Egiziaca

(Dynamic)

Italian composer Ottorino Respighi’s 1931 theatrical triptych follows the prostitute Maria of Alexandria, whose sacrifice later earned her Catholic sainthood, in a dramatically tense account accompanied by some of Respighi’s loveliest music.

Pier Luigi Pizzi’s 2024 Venice production centers on the fiery aliveness of soprano Francesca Dotto’s portrayal of Maria, who could have been merely symbolic but instead is a flawed, fully achieved protagonist. Respighi’s score sounds luminous performed by the Venice State Opera orchestra and chorus under the baton of Manlio Benzi. Hi-def video and audio are first-rate.

Strauss—Arabella

(Naxos)

German master Richard Strauss’ 1933 operatic romance—his final work with longtime librettist Hugo von Hofmannsthal—follows the title heroine, a noblewoman with no shortage of suitors, and her younger sister Zdenka (brought up as a boy to save the family money); the combination of Hofmannsthal’s wit and Strauss’ melodies makes this one of the great autumnal operas. Tobias Krazer’s 2023 Berlin State Opera staging mixes a lush Viennese setting with postmodern touches like film clips and casual contemporary wear for the leads.

If the production is less than visually sparkling, musically it’s aces—as Arabella, Sara Jakubiak adds to her glowing portraits of complex heroines, while Elena Tsallagova (as Zdenka) provides superb support. Donald Runnicles conducts an effective reading of Strauss’ sumptuous score. The hi-def video and audio are topnotch.

4K/UHD Release of the Week

Constantine

(Warner Bros)

In Francis Lawrence’s 2005 supernatural mess, Keanu Reeves sleepwalks through the title role, an exorcist of sorts who visits heaven and hell and who tries to save L.A. detective Angela, whose twin sister Isabel killed herself under suspicious circumstances. Lawrence conjures the look of dankness and gray foreboding that David Fincher did in 1995’s Seven, which was more plausibly and terrifying.

Opposite the somnolent Reeves is Rachel Weisz, desperate to make Amanda more than a caricature but defeated by the material and Lawrence’s approach. The UHD images are flawless; extras include new interviews with Lawrence and Reeves as well as archival featurettes and commentaries.

CD Release of the Week

Supertramp—Live in Paris ’79

(Mercury/Universal)

On the heels of its biggest-selling album, Breakfast in America, prog-rock group Supertramp released a two-LP live set, Paris, documenting the extensive world tour. That 1980 album has just been reissued on two CDs that include the entire two-hour set with the band firing on all cylinders, from prog epics like “Crime of the Century,” “From Now On” and “Fool’s Overture” to classic cuts like “School,” “Ain’t Nobody But Me” and “Even in the Quietest Moments” and a wide selection of tracks from the then-current smash album: “The Logical Song,” “Goodbye Stranger,” “Take the Long Way Home” and even “Child of Vision.”

What’s heard in this impeccably remixed concert is how tight the quintet was, from drummer Bob Siebenberg and bassist Dougie Thomson’s rhythm section to John Helliwell’s saxophone and the coleaders, keyboardist/singer Roger Davies and keyboardist/guitarist/singer Roger Hodgson.

Off-Broadway Play Review—Shakespeare’s “Henry IV” in Brooklyn

Details: Parent Category: Film and the Arts; Category: Reviews; Published on Monday, 24 February 2025 03:16; Written by Kevin Filipski

Henry IV

Written by William Shakespeare; adapted by Dakin Matthews

Directed by Eric Tucker

Performances through March 2, 2025

Theatre for a New Audience, 262 Ashland Avenue, Brooklyn, NY

tfana.org

James Udom, Cara Ricketts, Jay O. Sanders, Slate Holmgren and Elan Zafir in Henry IV (photo: Gerry Goodstein)

When I saw Dakin Matthews’ canny distillation of the two parts of Henry IV at Lincoln Center Theater in 2003, I found it the best Shakespeare I’ve ever seen in New York (and still do)—Jack O’Brien adroitly directed a star-studded cast headed by Kevin Kline as Falstaff, and Matthews’ adaptation subtly distilled the essence of both works into one absorbing four-hour play.

Matthews’ Henry IV returns in a far different staging at the Polonsky Shakespeare Center in Brooklyn. Unlike O’Brien’s lush, almost cinematic production, Eric Tucker directs a smaller-scaled version in the round. There are drawbacks to this approach, since the action takes place among dozens of characters in several far-flung locales, including the king’s court, London taverns and a battlefield. The cramped stage area is acknowledged by actors sitting in seats among the audience when not performing, which fosters more intimacy among spectators and performers. And performing in the round by definition has actors facing away from a part of the audience at all times, which has a tendency to swallow important dialogue.

Nicole E. Lang’s lighting illuminates the proceedings on Jimmy Stubbs’ minimalist set both dramatically and psychologically, while Catherine Zuber and AC Gottlieb’s costumes pleasingly mix period and modern. Tucker nicely paces the drama among the king’s council discussions, the rebels’ machinations and the lively tavern interludes among London’s lowlifes. He has also double-cast several roles, so some performers change costumes and become other characters right onstage. It’s a diverting effect, but it also points up the difficulty of doing the Bard on a budget, since such busyness at times detracts from the play itself.

Of those taking on multiple roles, best are the charismatic Jordan Bellow, who adroitly shuttles between Prince Hal’s brother John and Hal’s partner in frivolity Ned Poins; and the winning Cara Ricketts, who makes both a touching Lady Percy and a rollicking Doll Tearsheet. Matthews himself—who played a supporting role in the 2003 Lincoln Center production—gives the title monarch a sturdy royal presence.

Shakespeare is most interested in the relationship between Hal and his friend, the braggart, womanizer, and self-styled wit named Sir John Falstaff. When Hal prods Falstaff to even greater heights of self-delusion, it makes Falstaff simultaneously funnier and more sorrowful. Elijah Jones finds a nice balance between Hal’s foolishness and budding maturity, and Jay O. Sanders follows in Kevin Kline’s large footsteps to create a Falstaff who is both outsized and normal, buffoonish yet always sympathetic.

Near the end, Hal—now Henry V after his father’s death—coldly banishes his erstwhile friend and sparring partner from the kingdom; Sanders plays this moment with shock and resignation but also a sliver of pride that the young man Falstaff believes he himself has led to this moment has, indeed, met the moment. This is not an essential Shakespeare staging but it is entertaining, which nowadays is nothing to sneeze at.

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