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Film and the Arts

Tchaikovsky & Prokofiev With The Israel Philharmonic

Israel Philharmonic performs. Photo by Chris Lee

At Carnegie Hall, on the evening of Monday, November 14th, I had the pleasure of attending an excellent concert featuring the Israel Philharmonic under the admirable direction of Lahav Shani.

The ensemble opened the event by playing “The Star Spangled Banner” and “Hatikvah.” The program proper began wonderfully with the marvelous Violin Concerto—a paragon of High Romanticism inspired by Edouard Lalo’s Symphonie espagnole—of Peter Ilyich Tchaikovsky, which received an accomplished performance by the celebrated soloist, Gil Shaham. The memorable, initial Allegro moderato was enchanting, dramatic and suspenseful, with passages of intense lyricism, and the extraordinary Canzonetta movement that followed was even more sustainedly beautiful, while theFinalewas dazzling in its display of virtuosity. Enthusiastic applause elicited a superb encore from Shaham: the Gavotte en rondeau from the Partita No. 3, BWV 1006, one of the greatest works ever written for solo violin.

The second half of the evening was even more impressive with an effective account of Sergei Prokofiev’s magnificent Symphony No. 5. The opening Andante is frequently majestic despite a brooding quality for much of its length. The ensuing Allegro marcato, the ethos of which evokes the composer’s glorious ballet scores such as Romeo and Juliet and Cinderella, is a charming, ingenious Scherzo with an inventive trio section, and the Adagio that succeeds it is solemn by contrast, even portentous. In the finale, after a hushed introduction, the music is satirical—again reminiscent of the ballets—and builds to a powerfully affirmative conclusion. The appreciation of the audience was rewarded with another terrific encore: the exalting Fanfare to Israel by Paul Ben-Haim.

Off-Broadway Play Review—Bruce Norris’ “Downstate”

Downstate
Written by Bruce Norris
Directed by Pam MacKinnon
Through December 22, 2022
Playwrights Horizons
416 West 42nd Street, New York, NY
Playwrightshorizons.org
 
The cast of Downstate (photo: Joan Marcus)


Although Bruce Norris won the Pulitzer Prize and the Tony Award for his 2010 play Clybourne Park, I found it heavyhanded, obvious and even self-congratulatory. But his latest, Downstate, is as challenging and thought-provoking as the earlier play never was.
 
Downstate—which refers to southern Illinois, downstate from Chicago, and not the tri-state area here—is set in a halfway house for convicted sex offenders who have completed their prison terms. The men—Fred, Dee, Gio and Felix—have many restrictions on their lives and their movements, which are carefully monitored by their probation officer, Ivy, who is tough but not entirely unsympathetic to their plight: that basically, no one in the community wants them around, as witness the broken window near the front door or the latest admonishment, which Ivy explains to them, of them not being able to go to the closest grocery store but must get to another one, on the other side of the interstate. 
 
The play begins with Fred, elderly and in a wheelchair, listening intently to a visiting couple—Andy and his wife Em—trying to put into words what Andy wants from him: for starters, an apology for the abuse he suffered while Fred was his piano teacher while he was a kid. There’s an immediate sense of unease that remains just under the surface throughout, and Norris adroitly adds other scenes that, while repetitive, always slightly refocus how we see these men. 
 
Even Fred’s small electric piano, sitting in the middle of the room, is a constant reminder of what he’s done to young boys. Later, Andy returns alone to retrieve the phone he apparently forgot after his initial visit, again confronting Fred, who sits in front of that piano as Andy angrily blusters; as Dee tries, in his own way, to help Fred deal with this latest affront, Norris sympathetically balances Andy’s real hurt with Fred’s already having paid for his crime. 
 
Downstate is an intelligent and provocative play about a problematic subject, but like Clybourne Park (if less so), it doesn’t always escape contrivance. For example, Gio conveniently brings his young Staples coworker Effie back to the house after Andy has returned and, when he finishes his showdown with Fred and Dee and tries to leave, her car is blocking Andy’s car in the yard. 
 
Then, when she goes outside to move it, she can’t start it, returning to the house to ask if anybody has jumper cables. This leads to the play’s final desperate moments when Andy ends up wielding a baseball bat and everybody discovers what happened to Felix—who went missing after Ivy tells him she knows he broke his parole to go to the library and access the internet to contact his teenage daughter, whom he abused when she was younger.
 
Despite a few missteps, Norris credibly allows each of the men in the house—whose own wrongdoings have landed them there, shunned by most of society, with few if any family or friends to confide in—their humanity, having paid for what they have done but now feeling that they themselves are being wronged in some way. 
 
The mostly exemplary acting is a great asset. Although Gabi Samels can’t do much with the underwritten role of Effie, Susanna Guzman is bluntly forceful as Ivy, Tim Hopper is a compellingly damaged Andy, and Sally Murphy makes the most of her brief stage time as Em. The four ex-cons are persuasively embodied by Eddie Torres (Felix), Glenn Davis (Gio) and—in the pivotal parts—K. Todd Freeman (Dee) and Francis Guinan (Fred). Guinan makes Fred’s ability to cozy up to his victims even decades later creepily real, while Freeman trenchantly enacts Dee’s preening as a justified defense mechanism.
 
Pam MacKinnon pointedly directs on Todd Rosenthal’s ultra-realistic unit set, with assists from Adam Silverman’s resourceful lighting and Carolyn Downing’s spot-on sound design. While not flawless, the unapologetically adult Downstate is worth a visit.

Sondra Radvanovsky Dazzles at Carnegie Hall

Sondra Radvanovsky (R) with pianist Anthony Manoli. Photo © 2022 Steve J. Sherman.

At Carnegie Hall on the evening of Wednesday, November 16th, I had the pleasure of attending a marvelous recital—entitled “From Loss to Love”—by the superb, Canadian, operatic soprano, Sondra Radvanovsky, excellently accompanied by pianist Anthony Manoli.

The singer, whose voice was in powerful form, appeared in a fabulous black gown, opening the event with one of the greatest works in the program: Henry Purcell’s "When I am laid" from Dido and Aeneas. She followed this with Georg Friedrich Händel’s “E pur così in un giorno … Piangerò la sorte Mia" from Giulio Cesare in Egitto, which program annotator Janet E. Bedell describes as the composer’s “most popular opera.” Henri Duparc was represented by three songs, the first two set to texts by the Symbolist poet Jean Lahor: "Chanson triste" and “Extase.” The third, “Au pays où se fait la guerre,” originally titled “Absence,” from a poem by the eminent Théophile Gautier, was written for an unfinished opera. Three songs by Sergei Rachmaninoff—which Radvanovsky dedicated to the late, impossibly dashing baritone, Dmitri Hvorostovsky—were also featured. The first, “Sing not to me, beautiful maiden,” from a text by Alexander Pushkin, is from his Opus 4 of 1893, his first set of songs to be published. This was followed by “How fair this spot” from 1902 and “I wait for you” from 1894, written when the composer was twenty-one. The first half of the event concluded with Franz Liszt’s Three Petrarch Sonnets—written for tenor voice—which demonstrated the singer’s special affinity for the Italianate repertory of the Romantic movement. She sang the earliest version of this work, “first sketched in 1838 or 1839,” according to Bedell.

The second half of the program—for which the soprano wore a stunning, deep blue gown—was truly remarkable, however, beginning with four songs by Richard Strauss. Her performance of the first, “Allerseelen”—which closes his first set of published songs, his Opus 10 of 1885, when the composer was twenty-one—was one of the supreme moments of the evening and the song was one of its very finest. After “Befreit” from 1898—set to a text by the eminent German poet, Richard Dehmel—Radvanovsky reached the other peak in the recital, with the astonishing “Morgen!” from 1894. After “Heimliche Aufforderung,” the singer came into her own too with most of the Italian repertory that dominated the remainder of the evening, starting with Giuseppe Verdi’s “In solitaria stanza” from his Sei romanze of 1838, which was another highlight along with Stefano Donaudy’s “O del mio amato ben” from 1918 that immediately followed. After Verdi’s “Stornello”of 1869, the soprano concluded the program with two of her best renditions: the world premiere of contemporary American composer Jake Heggie’s “If I Had Known” to a text by Radvanovsky herself and Umberto Giordano’s aria “La mamma morta” from his celebrated opera, André Chenier. She equalled these with two encores: Francesco Cilea’s "Ecco: respiro appena... Io son l’umile ancella" from his opera Adriana Lecouvreur and what she said was her favorite aria, Giacomo Puccini’s "Vissi d'arte" from Tosca. She ended the evening with Harold Arlen’s immortal, glorious “Over the Rainbow,” set to lyrics by Yip Harburg.

Off-Broadway Play Review—Bess Wohl’s “Camp Siegfried”

Camp Siegfried
Written by Bess Wohl
Directed by David Cromer
Through December 4, 2022
Second Stage Theater/Tony Kiser Theater
305 West 43rd Street, New York, NY
2st.com
 
Johnny Berchtold and Lily McInenery in Bess Wohl's Camp Siegfried 
(photo: Emilio Madrid)
 
In plays like Make Believe and Grand Horizons, Bess Wohl has shown a talent for witty observational humor and an ability to dissect intriguingly off-kilter relationships, both of which are on display in her latest play, Camp Siegfried—but there’s more at stake as well, which Wohl doesn’t make entirely convincing.
 
Set in 1938 on Long Island, Camp Siegfried introduces two characters at its eponymous locale, as German Americans indoctrinate their children into the ethos of fascism. (The camp was real, welcoming its guests from 1936 to 1941, when the America finally entered World War II against the Axis powers.) “He” is 17, all blustery confidence, while “She” is 16, seemingly naïve and initially bemused about why she is there. 
 
For 85 minutes, Wohl follows the pair through their days and nights at the camp, as they meet cute, become friends then lovers, and engage in menial but intensely physical work (the two performers actually build a podium from wood onstage) to meet the qualifications for being part of the Aryan master race.
 
Wohl’s dialogue is at its best when He and She talk about what others are telling them: what their parents and other adults, like the married teacher She had an affair with, almost offhandedly say, loaded with meaning. She recounts that a local doctor she visits said to her, “Anyone can be seduced,” which could serve as the play’s subtitle. But Wohl takes the easy way out by not dramatizing effectively enough how the drift toward fascist, racist ideology can be done so casually, offhandedly. 
 
This is underscored by the heavily pregnant final lines of dialogue, which bluntly state what the play has been understated about all along. As in Make Believe, the relatively short running time is both a plus and a minus: although it gets Wohl’s points across economically, there’s also a sense of something missing, that the play’s 11 scenes are mere sketches for a more penetrating and resonant psychological study yet to be written.
 
David Cromer directs economically on Brett J. Banakis’ beautifully appointed outdoor set, complete with a hillside, gravel path and even trees, cannily lit by Tyler Micoleau. Both actors, making their New York debuts, are commanding in their teenage awkwardness: Johnny Berchtold adroitly catches He’s balancing act of a kid trying to become a man in difficult circumstances.
 
Even better is Lily McInerny, who gives a tremendous performance as She, an initially shy wallflower who becomes a snarling, screaming defender of “America/Germany First” lunacy at the play’s climax. Her transformation from teenager to woman in front of our and (He’s) eyes is a scarily perfect portrayal of how ideology can lead to violence that’s the most unforgettable piece of acting on a New York stage right now.

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