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Film and the Arts
A Sentimental Evening With Audra McDonald
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- Parent Category: Film and the Arts
- Category: Reviews
- Published on Wednesday, 07 December 2022 15:00
- Written by Jack Angstreich
Audra McDonald on stage, photo by Chris Lee
At Carnegie Hall, on the evening of Saturday, December 3rd, I had the enormous privilege to attend a terrific concert—entitled “Feeling Sentimental”—featuring the fabulous Broadway musical star, Audra McDonald—who first performed at this venue in 1998—looking glamorous in a stunning red gown. She was accompanied by a full orchestra under the admirable direction of Andy Einhorn—in his conducting debut at this hall—along with pianist Jeremy Jordan, drummer Gene Lewin, and Mark Vanderpoel on bass.
McDonald opened the program with Jerry Herman’s "I Am What I Am" from his 1983 show La Cage aux Folles, in honor of the victims of the recent mass shooting in Colorado. She followed this with another lovely song, “Pure Imagination,” by Leslie Bricusse and Anthony Newley, from the 1971 film, Willy Wonka & the Chocolate Factory, where it was unforgettably delivered by Gene Wilder. Her next song was one of the highlights of the evening, the glorious "(When I Marry) Mister Snow" from Carousel, the classic musical from 1945 by Richard Rodgers and Oscar Hammerstein II—she appeared as Carrie Pipperidge to great acclaim in Nicholas Hytner’s highly regarded Lincoln Center production of 1994. She then performed “Cornet Man,” a lesser-known song by Jules Styne—with lyrics by Bob Merrill—from 1964’s Funny Girl. As a tribute to the wonderful Diahann Carroll, she sang “A Sleepin' Bee” by Harold Arlen with lyrics by Truman Capote, from their 1954 show, House of Flowers. Her next item, “Moonshine Lullaby” from Irving Berlin’s Annie Get Your Gun of 1964, is also less commonly heard. Another summit in the proceedings was attained with the next two songs: first, as a tribute to the incomparable Barbara Cook, the magnificent “Will He Like Me?" by Jerry Bock and Sheldon Harnick from their extraordinary 1963 musical She Loves Me and, second, “Summertime” from George Gershwin’s 1935 opera, Porgy and Bess, with lyrics by DuBose Heyward. She closed the first half of the event with the famous “Rose’s Turn” from Styne’s Gypsy of 1959, with lyrics by Stephen Sondheim.
After intermission, McDonald returned to the stage to perform “Gorgeous’’ from Bock and Harnick’s 1966 The Apple Tree. Her rendition of Duke Ellington’s “(In My) Solitude” from 1934 ensued, followed by a tribute to Leslie Uggams: “Being Good Isn't Good Enough” from Styne’s 1967 musical, Hallelujah, Baby!, with lyrics by Betty Comden and Adolph Green and a book by Arthur Laurents. She then sang “Bein' Green”—from 1970—by Joe Raposo, which was memorably recorded by Frank Sinatra. After this she did a mashup of “You've Got to Be Carefully Taught” from Rodgers and Hammerstein’s 1949 South Pacific and “Children Will Listen” from Sondheim’s 1987 Into the Woods. This was succeeded by “Can’t stop talkin’” by Frank Loesser from the 1950 film, Let’s Dance. Herman’s exquisite "Before the Parade Passes By" from his 1964 Hello, Dolly! followed, and she then excellently performed another fine song, Sondheim’s “With So Little to Be Sure Of “ from his 1964 musical, Anyone Can Whistle, also with a book by Laurents. She ended her set with another classic—“Cabaret” from the 1966 show of the same name by John Kander and Fred Ebb—which she originally sung for a benefit at the behest of Vogue editor, Anna Wintour. As a response to the ardent applause, she delighted her audience with two encores. She first performed “Home” from the 1972 musical, The Wiz, after which Einhorn joined her to reproduce the marvelous duet between Barbra Streisand and Judy Garland from the 1960s on the latter’s weekly television show on which they sang “Happy Days Are Here Again” and the Arlen “Get Happy,” introduced by Ruth Etting in 1930.
"Midsummer" in Winter with the Orchestra of St. Luke’s
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- Parent Category: Film and the Arts
- Category: Reviews
- Published on Monday, 05 December 2022 20:37
- Written by Jack Angstreich
David Hyde-Pierce with the Orchestra of St. Luke’s, photo by Chris Lee
At Carnegie Hall, on the evening of Thursday, November 17th, I had the great fortune to attend a terrific concert featuring the superb Orchestra of St. Luke’s under the estimable direction of Harry Bicket.
The event opened exhilaratingly with a dazzling performance of Felix Mendelssohn’s pleasurable Piano Concerto No. 1, with the extraordinary soloist, Benjamin Grosvenor. The first movement opens in bravura fashion, and after the introduction of the exquisite, song-like second theme, it becomes the model of the virtuoso Romantic concerto. The delicate Andante that follows is the most beautiful of the three movements while the propulsive, playful finale is astonishing too in its way. Grosvenor stunned with an amazing encore: "Gnomenreigen" from Two Concert Etudes by Franz Liszt.
But it was the balance of the program that was especially memorable: a magnificent account of Felix Mendelssohn’s marvelous Overture and Incidental Music to A Midsummer Night’s Dream, featuring David Hyde-Pierce as narrator. The celebrated Overture is of course enchanting and was followed by the sprightly, charming Scherzo. The song “Young spotted snakes”—an instance of heavenly vocal writing—was gloriously sung by the lovely soprano Elena Villalón, mezzo-soprano Cecelia Hall, and the wonderful Choir of Trinity Wall Street. The effectively suspenseful Intermezzo was succeeded by the majestic Notturno, while the inordinately familiar Wedding March was nonetheless stirring and exultant, preceding the delightful song, “Through the house give glimmering light,” which proved to be a gorgeous conclusion.
This outstanding ensemble returns to this venue on February 9th, 2023 with Franz Schubert’s unforgettable Ninth Symphony and on April 13th, 2023 with a program devoted to Georg Friedrich Händel, including the fabulous Royal Fireworks Music.
November '22 Digital Week III
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- Parent Category: Film and the Arts
- Category: Reviews
- Published on Thursday, 01 December 2022 03:02
- Written by Kevin Filipski
New York Philharmonic Brings Stravinsky To Life
- Details
- Parent Category: Film and the Arts
- Category: Reviews
- Published on Wednesday, 30 November 2022 15:02
- Written by Jack Angstreich
Hannu Lintu conducts the New York Philharmonic. Photo by Chris Lee
At David Geffen Hall at Lincoln Center, on the evening of Saturday, November 19th, I had the great pleasure to attend an outstanding concert presented by the New York Philharmonic—who performed at their rare best—under the extraordinary direction of Finnish guest-conductor, Hannu Lintu, in his debut with this ensemble.
The event opened with a superb account of Igor Stravinsky’s challenging, even puzzling Symphonies for Wind Instruments, which I’ve never heard more effectively played. James M. Keller, in his unusually informative program notes, provides some useful background to the work:
[ … ] as the decade of the 1910s progressed, [Stravinsky] seems to have grown increasingly suspicious of the tendency of string instruments to be “expressive,” a characteristic that did not jibe well with the way his particular form of sonic modernism was playing out. When he did use strings, he increasingly did so in a non-traditional way, as in the entirely “objectified,” partly percussive approach to string playing required in his Three Pieces for String Quartet of 1914. Symphonies of Wind Instruments is an orchestral work that disposes of the string component entirely. Stravinsky found the wind instruments well suited to the kind of uninflected sound he was after. In a commentary he prepared to accompany early performances of this work, he described Symphonies of Wind Instruments as “tonal masses ... sculptured in marble ... to be regarded objectively by the ear.”
Stravinsky dedicated the work to his fellow composer, Claude Debussy. They had met in 1910, when Debussy congratulated him enthusiastically following the premiere of The Firebird, and they remained friends from then on. In 1913 Stravinsky dedicated his cantata Zvezdoliki (Le Roi des étoiles) to Debussy; in 1915 Debussy dedicated the third movement of his two-piano suite En blanc et noir to Stravinsky. The latter felt the loss keenly when his older colleague died, in March 1918. Not long after that, Stravinsky inscribed in a sketchbook the sonority that became known as the “bell motif” that would later appear inSymphonies of Wind Instruments— very possibly, some scholars believe, inspired by thoughts of Debussy.
In 1920 the Revue musicale, a distinguished Parisian publication, began planning an issue in tribute to Debussy, and the editor approached various composers about contributing memorial pieces that might be included in a musical supplement titled Le Tombeau de Debussy. Stravinsky had recently sketched a solemn chorale, tentatively for the harmonium, and decided to submit that as his piano piece. In orchestrated form (beginning with brass choir) it would serve as the conclusion of Symphonies of Wind Instruments, and Stravinsky expanded it with preceding sections as he built up his single-movement piece.
Also excellent was a brilliant realization of Béla Bartók’s powerful—if not often performed—Concerto for Two Pianos, which is also not one of his more accessible works; it featured two outstanding soloists—Sergei Babayan, in his Philharmonic debut, and his former pupil, Daniil Trifonov—along with percussionists Christopher S. Lamb, Daniel Druckman and Markus Rhoten. Keller is again helpful in laying out some context:
Béla Bartók’s Concerto for Two Pianos, Percussion, and Orchestra was originally crafted as a piece of chamber music. “What kind of chamber music should it be?” asked Bartók when, in the spring of 1937, the billionaire Swiss philanthropist Paul Sacher approached him about writing a chamber work to celebrate the tenth anniversary of the Swiss Section of the ISCM (International Society of Contemporary Music). “Could it be, for example, a quartet for two pianos and two groups of percussion?” Sacher signaled that such an unorthodox combination would be acceptable, and Bartók moved ahead quickly, completing it by the end of the year. The composer, his pianist-wife Ditta Pásztory-Bartók, and two Swiss percussionists played the premiere at that anniversary concert, and the work scored so great a success that subsequent performances were quickly arranged for London, Brussels, Luxembourg, and Budapest.
In 1940 Bartók’s publisher convinced him to recast the piece as a Concerto for Two Pianos, Percussion, and Orchestra. This was not intended to supersede Bartok’s original conception, but rather to broaden the work’s possibilities for performance, particularly in the American market, where the publisher doubted that the chamber version would be programmed often.
He adds:
About the transformation of the sonata into a concerto, Bartók wrote:
It seemed advisable, for certain technical reasons, to add orchestral accompaniment to the work, though, as a matter of fact, it gives only color to certain portions of the work. The two-piano and percussion parts remain practically unchanged, except for some of the climactic parts which are now taken over from the two pianos as tuttis by the orchestra.
Even in this orchestrated version, the piece retains much of the spare quality that was inherent at its conception.
In 1938, to coincide with the premiere of the original sonata, Bartók penned an analytical introduction to the work, in German, which was published in theBasel National Zeitung.His observations remain relevant to the concerto version.
He explained that he had initially planned to use a single piano but decided to use two, the better to balance the frequently very sharp tones of the percussion instruments. ... The role of the percussion sounds varies: sometimes they reinforce the more important accents; in places they carry motifs serving as a counterpoint to the piano parts; and the timpani and the xylophone frequently play themes that act as principal subjects.
The first movement begins ominously and becomes spirited and dramatic at times. The ensuingLentois more sinister in character with some mysterious accents, while thefinaleis ebullient and propulsive. Babayan and Trifonov returned to the stage for a marvelous encore: the wonderful third movement of Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart’s Sonata for Two Pianos in D Major, K. 448.
The second half of the evening was even stronger, opening with a confident version of contemporary Finnish composer Kaija Saariaho’s beguiling, evocative and enigmatic Ciel d’hiver from 2013, a re-arrangement of the second movement of herOrionfrom 2002,which program annotator Nicky Swett describes as “massive” and as the author’s “second large-scale orchestral piece.” She adds: “‘I am interested in choosing stories with a timeless quality,’ [Saariaho] explained in a 2018 interview, when asked about the mythological tales she approaches in many of her pieces and operas.”
The concert concluded magnificently with what was the highlight of the entire evening, a mesmerizing performance of Jean Sibelius’s glorious Seventh Symphony. Keller again offers valuable commentary:
He worked on his final three symphonies concurrently for several years beginning in 1918. The Fifth had been premiered in 1916, but was undergoing a severe rewrite that would last through 1921; the Sixth reached its end in February 1923, and the Seventh occupied him for yet another 13 months beyond that.
In its early stages Sibelius sensed that this final symphony would unroll through three separate movements. In the end, he brought everything together into a single movement lasting some 21 minutes. The form is certainly not one traditionally associated with a symphony; in fact, Sibelius intended to title the piece Fantasia sinfonica. That name was used when he conducted the premiere, and the manuscript score shows traces of the inscriptionFantasia sinfonicaNo. 1, an interesting wording that suggests that Sibelius was holding open the possibility of writing additional pieces in the same vein. In any case, he changed his mind about the title shortly before the work’s publication, thereby admitting it to the roster of his full-scale, “proper” symphonies.
