Reviews of 2009 Music Events in Seattle
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DECEMBER 17, 2009: The Seattle Symphony presents Handel’s “Messiah,” with Gary Thor Wedow conducting; Benaroya Hall, through Dec. 20; 0-3, 206-215-4747 or www.seattlesymphony.org.
By Melinda Bargreen
There are as many ways to do Handel’s “Messiah” as there are conductors. And the Seattle Symphony’s guest maestro for the current “Messiah” production, Gary Thor Wedow, has chosen a highly distinctive route through the score – one that works a remarkable percentage of the time.
First, he made some substantial whacks in Parts II and III of the “Messiah,” which is usually performed in its entirety. Before purists start shaking their heads, let’s acknowledge that Wedow’s practice is actually not so foreign to Handel’s own modus operandi. A noted pragmatist, he frequently added and subtracted to the score depending on the available forces, giving (for example) certain arias to stronger singers and trimming others altogether. I wasn’t entirely sorry to miss, for example, the soprano aria “If God Be For Us,” a lengthy but uninspired number that often leaves audience members peering at their wristwatches.
Second, Wedow invited the renowned lutenist Stephen Stubbs to play in the orchestra’s continuo section, from which the beautiful timbres of his alternating instruments rose in a remarkable enhancement of the production. With Wedow conducting from the harpsichord and the four vocal soloists aligned with a semicircle of Symphony players, there was a strong feeling of immediacy and togetherness.
Not everything worked well. Wedow’s tendency to attack a piece immediately after end of its predecessor sometimes gave the performance a harried, rushed character. There wasn’t even a second between “Behold, a virgin shall conceive” and “O thou that tellest good tidings”: no time to shift the mood from reflective to joyous. And Wedow’s decision to curtail the string players’ vibrato (not always obeyed) meant that the sections’ blend sometimes suffered.
The Seattle Symphony Chorale (Joseph Crnko, director) turned in a stellar performance, with considerable strength in the tenors. Soprano Lisa Saffer was a standout among the soloists; mezzo-soprano Sasha Cooke was lovely but hard to hear, and tenor John McVeigh sang with a smooth lyricism. Charles Robert Stephens, a late substitute as the baritone soloist, was admirable, as was the (slightly sharp) trumpet solo of David Gordon. Joseph Adam’s performance at the organ was nicely judged.
In short: a “Messiah” well worthy of a “Hallelujah.”
[Melinda Bargreen also reviews concerts for 98.1 Classical KING FM.]
DECEMBER 4, 2009: R.I.P., Mary Curtis-Verna
By Melinda Bargreen
The age-old adage of the performance world is “The show must go on,” and for more than a decade at the Metropolitan Opera, it was soprano Mary Curtis-Verna who stepped in to ensure that it did. Mrs. Curtis-Verna, who also sang leading opera roles at Milan’s La Scala and the houses of Vienna and Munich, died Dec. 4 at 88 in her Seattle home, of an illness resulting from a fall this past August at home. She was 88.
After her retirement from the opera stage in 1969, Mrs. Curtis-Verna moved to Seattle and headed the voice department in the University of Washington School of Music for two decades. Unfailingly gracious, still lovely even as an octogenarian, Mrs. Curtis-Verna instilled in generations of voice students her own profound love of music and respect for vocal excellence.
As the Met’s “house soprano” for more than a decade during the 1950s and 1960s, Mrs. Curtis-Verna probably would have been a major star in any other era except for the “golden age” of singers like Leontyne Price, Renata Tebaldi and Zinka Milanov, more famous sopranos who all sang “her” roles. Despite such formidable competition, however, Mrs. Curtis-Verna sang in a remarkable number of productions at the Met, including starring roles in “Tosca,” “Don Carlo,” “Aida,” “La Boheme,” “Un Ballo in Maschera,” “Simon Boccanegra,” “Don Giovanni,” “La Forza del Destino,” “Turandot,” “Adriana Lecouvreur,” “Falstaff,” and even “Götterdämmerung” (in which she sang Gutrune). Among her stage partners were such legends as Richard Tucker, Leonard Warren, Jussi Bjoerling, Franco Corelli, Robert Merrill, Carlo Bergonzi, George London, Birgit Nilsson, Nicolai Gedda, Licia Albanese and Roberta Peters, to name just a few.
Reviewers praised her for her musicality, the size and timbre of her soprano, her acting skills and her considerable beauty. Colleagues respected her infallible reliability, her generous nature, and the joy she took in singing even when she was called upon for a last-minute substitution. She was a consummate professional and a real artist.
She was born in Salem, Massachusetts on May 9, 1921. After graduation from Hollis College (Virginia) and studies at the Juilliard School (New York), she went on to Italy to study with Ettore Verna, who became her husband. Mrs. Curtis-Verna’s stage debut came in 1949, when she debuted as Desdemona in Milan’s Teatro Lirico stage debut in Milan. Her European career included important roles (the Marschallin, Senta, Norma, Eva, Elsa) in major houses from Vienna to Munich and throughout Italy.
Returning to her home country, Mrs. Curtis-Verna made her American debut as Aida in Philadelphia (1952), followed by performances at the San Francisco Opera (1952), the New York City Opera (1954), and the Met (where her 1957 debut as Leonora in “Il Trovatore” launched her career in that house).
The Pulitzer Prize-winning writer Manuela Hoelterhoff (in her 1998 book “Cinderella & Company”) quoted famous impresario Herbert Breslin’s observation that “Today Mary Curtis-Verna would be worshipped as a goddess” [if her vocal heyday were in the present, rather than in the more starry age of a half-century ago].
In 2005, Mrs. Curtis-Verna told Opera News: “I tell my students how hard it is to have a career. Your voice is in your body, and it is affected by your health and by your emotions, but the public must never know that. You need to learn how to have strong shoulders. You cannot take anything personally. You need to have a flame in you that nothing can extinguish.”
Mrs. Curtis-Verna ignited that flame in many aspiring singers before her death Dec. 4, 2009. She died peacefully in her Seattle home where she had entertained so many singers of the past and present. She leaves behind her husband of more than 40 years, Dr. Giuseppe Basile; loving family members including Pat Curtis of Danvers, Mass., and numerous nieces and nephews. She also will be long remembered by her especially devoted friends Dwyla Donohue and Glenda Williams, as well as hundreds of grateful students, colleagues and friends, who will gather at her memorial Jan. 2, 2010, at 2 p.m. in Plymouth Congregational Church of Seattle.
Donations in Mrs. Curtis-Verna’s memory may be made to Friends of Opera at UW School of Music, an organization she founded in support of the University of Washington Opera; and also to the Metropolitan Opera National Council Northwest, c/o Conni Clarke (25812 76th SW, Vashon, WA 98070).
DECEMBER 4, 2009:
Renée Fleming, soprano, in recital with pianist Gerald Martin Moore; Benaroya Hall, Dec. 4.
By Melinda Bargreen
Renée Fleming took her near-capacity Benaroya Hall audience to Siberia.
To Umberto Giordano’s “Siberia,” that is – an obscure opera penned more than a century ago, and blessed with a lovely showpiece of an aria for soprano (“Nel suo amore rianimata”).
If you’re not familiar with this particular Siberia, you had a lot of company in Benaroya Hall. The vast majority of Fleming’s program, which began with a Messiaen set and concluded with some Riccardo Zandonai, consisted of music that was (in most cases) well worth hearing, but not the kind of fare most of Fleming’s fans were likely to recognize.
It’s clear that she understood this, too, because when America’s currently reigning diva launched into an encore – the highly popular “O mio babbino caro” -- after about two hours of less-heard works by the likes of Leoncavallo and Dutilleux, Fleming joked, “I could have skipped the whole program and just sung this.” Well, most Fleming fans probably wouldn’t have gone that far … but most of them probably would have liked a few more selections that showed what she can do with slightly more standard repertoire.
During the all-French first half of the program, Fleming’s voice insinuated its sinuous way around phrase after languid phrase, spinning out the musical line as if she were pulling taffy. Sensuous and pliant, her readings of Messiaen’s “Poèmes pour Mi” made shimmering work of music that makes considerable demands on the singer. Fleming was supported impeccably by pianist Gerald Martin Moore, who seemed to be everywhere at exactly the right time and at exactly the right pace. A Massenet set and a commissioned work by Henri Dutilleux (“Les temps l’horloge”) continued the French theme.
A set by Richard Strauss, whom Fleming called “my desert island composer” in her remarks from the stage, illustrated her formidable vocal control and her ability to color the phrases (especially in the erotic “Verführung”). Here again, Moore was an exceptional partner, particularly in the “Ständchen,” in which he somehow managed to make the florid accompaniment not only glittering but also soft-focus. It was a remarkable effect.
No review of Fleming would be complete without a description of this lovely singer and her gowns. She turned 50 last February, but you’d never guess this as Fleming swept onto the stage in a vivid green gown with a bustle effect and a train – and then, after intermission, in a white strapless sheath with black graphic patterns and a gauzy charcoal shawl. In an ironic nod to the attention she gets with her attire, Fleming told the audience, “I always worry about the day when I’ll get more applause for the dress.” Judging from the vocal rewards in her Seattle performance, this won’t happen anytime soon.
NOVEMBER 28, 2009: The Seattle Men’s Chorus Christmas show, “Santa Baby”; Benaroya Hall, Nov. 28.
By Melinda Bargreen
Can it really be 30 years? Yes, the Seattle Men’s Chorus is celebrating its 30th anniversary this season with a 30th Christmas show that hits all the bases from the sublime to the ridiculous – and back again. Artistic director Dennis Coleman gave the downbeat to an opening program Nov. 28 that showed the very considerable strength of this vast corps of singers. Two Latin works by Maurice Duruflé (“Gloria” from the “Messa Cum Jubilo” and “Sanctus” from the Requiem), among the most serious (and lovely) pieces of the evening, displayed the clarity and focus of the SMC’s well-supported sound. And in the Stroope “Lux Aeterna,” the lengthy extended phrases never sagged or went slack, but continued the tone’s energy throughout every musical line. That Coleman achieves these results with a giant-sized group of mostly amateurs is a testament to his imagination and skill as a conductor.
Behind the scenes, arranger David Maddux must have been working like the Energizer bunny, because the majority of the concert’s selections were his arrangements – from the opening “classical Christmas” suite to the final carols. Inventive and often funny, Maddux’s Christmas adaptations of everything from Strauss’ “Also Sprach Zarathustra” and Verdi’s “Anvil Chorus” to “The Ride of the Valkyries” and the “1812” Overture were extremely entertaining. So was another innovation, the hiring of “beat boxer” Colin Pulkrabek, a UW student who achieves an amazing array of rhythmically percussion and sound effects with nothing more than his voice and a microphone.
Equally as busy as Maddux was Eric Allen Barnes, the group’s assistant artistic director who created some of the most ambitious portions of the program – including the Bollywood-inspired “Bolly Jolly Holiday” that’s a nonstop swirl of colorful energy.
The Watjen Concert Organ at Benaroya got a more substantial workout than usual, with David Lines at the console in a rousing Bach Toccata in D Minor (as well as a lot of lighter pieces). What a thrill to hear the Benaroya acoustics resound with all those singers – and all those organ stops.
Not everything worked perfectly; the chorus still needed a little time to jell in a Patrick Rose arrangement of “Drummer Boy,” and one of the humorous skits (a lengthy Barnes/Maddux “Very Special Christmas Special” that brought in singers portraying the Partridge Family, the Muppets, and most of the “Star Wars” characters, among others) was only intermittently successful.
A big plus this year was the quality of the group’s soloists, including a trio that sounded mighty fine in Rose’s arrangement of “This Year”: Manny Golez, Jim Kendall and Ritchie Wooley.
And, of course, for the first two performances of this year’s holiday show, a bona fide star was on hand for some solos: Betty Buckley, a star of stage and screen who won a Tony Award for her portrayal of Grizabella in “Cats.” The big question of the evening – would she sing her signature piece from that musical, “Memory”? – was finally answered in her encore, following Christmas selections that ranged from “Away in a Manger” to “O Holy Night.” Buckley’s distinctive voice isn’t always easily produced, but few singers can distill the drama of every line the way she does. When she sings of regret, as in Joni Mitchell’s “River” and Lloyd Webber’s “Cats,” the authenticity is unmistakable.
And we finally got the song of this concert’s title – “Santa Baby” – in another remarkable encore, in which a troupe of extremely buff and half-naked men were the backup singers for the drag chanteuse now known as “Arnaldo!” (with his own exclamation point). Let’s just say it was all highly entertaining.
Two standard features of past concerts were happily repeated: the audience sing-along, in which Coleman somehow makes 3,000 people into a solid chorus, and the SMC’s signature Christmas piece, its “Silent Night” with sign-language choreography and a slightly new spin each time. For all the show’s energy, each year this piece provides a little oasis in which the hall seems to shrink and the singers suddenly feel much closer to hand, and if you listen and watch, you can reconnect with the real meaning of Christmas. (Hint: it does not involve shopping. Unless, perhaps, for concert tickets.)
NOVEMBER 19, 2009: The Seattle Symphony Orchestra, with guest conductor Arild Remmereit, and piano soloist Gabriela Montero. Benaroya Hall, Nov. 19 (repeated Nov. 20-22).
By Melinda Bargreen
The hunt is on the way for Gerard Schwarz’s successor as Seattle Symphony music director, and every guest maestro is getting a special scrutiny from orchestra fans and patrons: Will this be “the one”? Does this conductor have what it takes to inspire the orchestra and the audience, as well as the ability to master the long and daunting list of administrative and executive functions that go with the job?
No one who was in attendance at the Nov. 19 performance led by Norwegian guest conductor Arild Remmereit could have been in any doubt about his ability to inspire. The program, which included the probable American premiere of Ludvig Irgens-Jensen’s Partita Sinfonica (“The Drover”) and went on to a Mozart piano concerto and Tchaikovsky’s “Pathétique” Symphony, found the orchestra on its best behavior, and the audience on the edge of their seats.
The opening Irgens-Jensen work is an attractive four-part suite based on a score the composer wrote in the late 1930s to accompany a play. Tuneful and energetic, sharing some of the musical language of Holst, this is a work of considerable picturesque charm, and it was clear that Remmereit is its champion. (He addressed some introductory remarks on its behalf to the audience, noting that no record could be found of any previous American performance of the Partita Sinfonica.)
Pianist Gabriela Montero, who earlier won fans here when she played a recital on the President’s Piano Series, was the soloist in the Mozart Piano Concerto No. 21 in C Major (K.467) – yes, that concerto whose middle movement was popularized by the now mostly-forgotten 1967 Swedish film “Elvira Madigan.” Montero, a well-schooled and very able pianist, is best known for her improvisations, and as the concerto went forward it became evident that we were hearing a sort of “Mozartero” performance with some substantial interpolations by the soloist. The cadenza, in particular, took off from the 18th century into a number of 19th-, 20th- and even 21st-century detours that would not have been much to the taste of most Mozart lovers in the house. Everyone else, however, gave Montero a rapturous ovation that was rewarded by a solo encore: one of Montero’s signature improvisations on a theme presented by an audience member (unfortunately, the theme provided was “On Top of Old Smokey”).
The artistic heart of the evening was the Tchaikovsky, which was given a terrifically vital, committed reading by Remmereit and the Seattle players. The young Norwegian-born conductor, who now lives in Vienna, has been called “the hottest conductor you’ve never heard of” in The New York Times, and in the Tchaikovsky it was eminently clear how hot this cool Nordic maestro could be. Galvanized into action in the explosive Allegro non troppo of the first movement, Remmereit interpreted the music with furious energy in every fiber of his body – even his hyperactive mop of blond hair. He was riveting to watch, and he supercharged the orchestra.
Remmereit didn’t hesitate to push the score to extremes: an opening Adagio so slow that the music almost didn’t hold together, and a third movement that accelerated so spectacularly that the audience gave up the struggle not to applaud between symphonic movements.
Not everything worked well. With a few exceptions (including a lovely trombones/tuba choir near the end of the Tchaikovsky), even the best wind solos and choirs had persistent intonation problems; there were some ensemble problems, too. But on the whole, Remmereit is certainly one of the most impressive of the potential music-director candidates to emerge thus far.
And is he officially a candidate? The Symphony press release is coy, saying that “Arild Remmereit’s appearance places a spotlight on Seattle Symphony’s search for a new Music Director. The international search is ongoing, and guest conductors both this season and next are under consideration. While the candidates for the position will remain confidential, the caliber and quality of guest conductors is sure to draw considerable attention to Seattle Symphony and its upcoming programs.”
Confidential or not, this candidate is certainly going to be a tough act to follow.
NOVEMBER 12, 2009: The Seattle Symphony Orchestra presents Carl Orff’s “Carmina Burana” and other works, with Gerard Schwarz conducting; Benaroya Hall.
By Melinda Bargreen
Even in these tough economic times, tickets fly right out of the box office when “Carmina Burana” is on the agenda.
The perennially popular blockbuster, requiring huge choral and orchestral forces, never fails to make an impact. The opening lines, a blast of brass and percussion and voices singing “O Fortuna,” are among the most instantly recognizable motifs of the 20th century (“Carmina Burana” was premiered in 1937).
A nearly sold-out crowd assembled in Benaroya Hall Thursday evening to hear the first of the three current Seattle Symphony performances, with music director Gerard Schwarz on the podium and no fewer than three choruses providing the vocal-power. It was an exciting, visceral performance whose movements led into each other almost without pause, and Schwarz never let the momentum falter. Raucous, elemental, and at times humorous, “Carmina” charged forward at a pace that sometimes left the various forces gasping to keep up with Schwarz’s baton.
From the singers’ diction and musicianship, it was clear that the three choruses – the Seattle Symphony Chorale, Northwest Boychoir and Vocalpoint! Seattle -- had been ably prepared by their director, Joseph Crnko. They sang with the all-out zest that this score requires, with its libretto drawn from medieval texts praising wine, song and romance.
“Carmina Burana” places some substantial challenges before its three soloists (a soprano, a tenor and a baritone), including difficult and extremely high writing for each singer. In this production, Paul Karaitis, a familiar figure here from many Seattle performances, sang both the tenor and baritone solos. Better known as a tenor than as a baritone, Karaitis may be able to reach the latter’s notes, but one missed the baritonal vocal quality and projection associated with that deeper voice category. His humorous tenor solo, in which a roasted swan laments his demise, was most effective. Soprano Terri Richter combined vocal warmth with a lovely ethereal quality in her solos.
The preceding works – “Carmina” is the last half of the program – met with mixed success. The opener, Mendelssohn’s seldom-heard Overture to “Die Heimkehr aus der Fremde,” is a charming trifle that tapped into Mendelssohn’s apparently inexhaustible fund of melodies. A little more problematic was the Louis Spohr Violin Concerto No. 8, chosen by concertmaster Maria Larionoff, who would have appeared to better advantage in a concerto of more solid musical merits. Her moderate-sized, beautifully shaped tone was an asset, but the work’s endless mini-cadenzas and recitatives (punctuated by chords from the orchestra) were short on artistic rewards.
NOVEMBER 5, 2009:The Seattle Symphony Orchestra, with Gerard Schwarz conducting, and Leonidas Kavakos, violin soloist; Benaroya Hall (repeated Nov. 7-8).
By Melinda Bargreen
As the Tchaikovsky Violin Concerto sped onward, Seattle Symphony audiences had plenty of time to consider the vexing question of why Leonidas Kavakos isn’t a household name around here. The Athens-born violinist, who just turned 42, has appeared in Seattle before, and he has a mighty reputation in Europe – where he won two major competitions (the Sibelius and the Paganini) in the mid-1980s and went on to assemble the usual star’s resume of gigs with all the major orchestras and big festivals. Kavakos’ recordings, too, have won enthusiastic reviews and awards.
It’s hard for a violin soloist to make a distinctive mark on the Tchaikovsky Concerto, a warhorse that has been galloped in nearly every possible direction over the past century by generations of virtuosi. Kavakos, gripping his fiddle and occasionally bouncing upward off the stage, gave the concerto a unique and thought-provoking spin that clearly excited a rapt audience. The soloist was not exactly dressed for the occasion, wearing a casual black shirt and slacks, but frankly, I don’t care if he wears a tutu as long as he plays such memorable Tchaikovsky.
With a competition winner’s dexterity and a thinker’s interpretive finesse, Kavakos took a deeply personal approach to the concerto, with an almost questioning, tentative approach to the opening statement. The finale took off like the proverbial bat, with conductor Gerard Schwarz and the orchestra hard pressed to keep up with the fleet-fingered soloist.
Not everything worked; Kavakos’ stage demeanor is strange, and he spun out some pianissimo lines to the point where the bow stuttered and the sound failed to materialize. On the other end of the spectrum, a few loud passages were forced and raw, driven sharp by the excessive bow pressure. But these are minor cavils in a performance that brought so much pleasure and was so strongly individualistic.
The rest of the all-Russian program also brought its rewards, from the slight but heady charms of Borodin’s Symphony No. 3 (an uneven work, left unfinished at Borodin’s death and completed by his colleague Glazunov) to the symphonic swan song of Shostakovich (his Symphony No. 15). The Borodin was remarkable chiefly for the beauty of Ben Hausmann’s gorgeous oboe solos. What an asset to the orchestra he is.
The Shostakovich has many admirers, but to me it’s always felt gimmicky: to the composer’s usual bag of tricks (e.g. the ironic, sarcastic military themes) is added persistent, famous quotations (the trumpet call from the finale of the “William Tell” Overture, and a major “fate” leitmotiv from Wagner’s “Ring”). Why Shostakovich wanted to frame elements of his symphony around a melodic line that introduced Wagner’s central “Todesverkundigung” Scene (in “Die Walküre”) has never been entirely clear.
In any case, Schwarz and the players gave the Shostakovich a remarkably good performance, with strong (and mostly in-tune) brass, excellent string solos (by Maria Larionoff and Eric Gaenslen), and playing that captured the mercurial nature of the work in all its whimsical, tragic complexity. That’s an achievement.
NOVEMBER 1, 2009: Lang Lang with the Seattle Symphony, Gerard Schwarz, conductor. Benaroya Hall, Nov. 1, 2009.
By Melinda Bargreen
The biggest star in the classical music firmament these days is – of course -- the 27-year-old Chinese-born pianist Lang Lang, whose high-level appearances have sent him jetting musically around the world. He’s in demand everywhere: The Beijing Olympics Opening Ceremonies! The Grammy Awards, the Nobel Prize concert in Stockholm, the Concert for Europe in Vienna, the UNICEF Goodwill Ambassadorship!
It’s no surprise that a Lang Lang appearance at the Seattle Symphony invariably leads to a sellout, and that’s exactly what happened in an all-Beethoven concert featuring the pianist in the Concerto No. 2. It is one of the least-performed of the five Beethoven piano concertos, and it is not exactly famous as a star vehicle (being short on romantic-era fireworks). But in this performance, that concerto positively levitated off the piano and into the delighted ears of Lang Lang’s fans.
The pianist once dubbed “Bang Bang” by a few music-business detractors has more recently demonstrated a considerably wider expressive range than the fortissimo he favored earlier in his career. And while his Beethoven performance here was not short on drama and firepower, it also represented the pianist at his most dulcet. Particularly in the second (Adagio) movement, the melodic line was spun so finely that it sounded like a mere breath of music in some passages. The contrast with the more rambunctious finale was dramatic indeed.
So mighty is this pianist’s technique that even the thorniest passages are tossed off with an ease that suggests they barely got Lang Lang’s full attention. This ease, and the structure of the Concerto No. 2, gave the pianist a bit too much time when his left hand had little to do besides give airy conducting gestures – a mannerism that is getting perhaps a little too mannered.
Every attenuated line of the concerto was accompanied with considerable alacrity by Schwarz and the orchestra, never overpowering the pianist even in the most fade-away passages, and lending the finale a convincing jollity.
With his hair looking a bit less alarmed than in his last appearance here, Lang Lang acknowledged the exuberant standing ovation in his own distinctive style. Not since the glory days of diva Leontyne Price has a performer raised the acceptance of applause to quite such an art form – recognizing, for example, every section of the house with special gestures. Finally, conductor Gerard Schwarz urged Lang Lang back to the piano, where he gave his ecstatic fans an encore: a silky, stylish solo performance of Chopin’s familiar Etude in A-Flat Major (Op. 25, No. 1).
The opener, Beethoven’s “Coriolan” Overture, got a competent but unexciting performance. The final work, Beethoven’s “Pastoral” Symphony (No. 6), seemed the perfect piece to accompany the beautiful autumn day outside, though the performance was not evenly inspired. There were effective wind solos and out-of-tune brass ones; lots of theater in the depiction of a storm and its aftermath, and a lovely ease in the songlike last movement, so evocative of the sense that “All’s right with the world.”
OCTOBER 17-18, 2009: Seattle Opera’s “La Traviata” (through Oct. 31)
By Melinda Bargreen
There are as many ways to interpret the title role in Verdi’s “La Traviata” as there are divas to sing it. It’s possible to imagine a soprano who revels more thoroughly in the high notes (some of them optional) and the coloratura fireworks on Act I than does Seattle Opera’s current opening-cast star in the role, Nuccia Focile. But it’s really difficult to imagine anyone seizing the drama and piercing the very heart of the opera’s emotional core the way Focile does, in her tour-de-force portrayal of Violetta, Verdi’s courtesan with the heart of gold.
Focile inhabits this role with an intensity that is almost exhausting to watch. The fragility of her character (who, we understand from the outset, is fatally ill), the strength of her love for Alfredo, the agony of renunciation and the despair of her impending death are all made painfully real. Focile is a real master of nuance – and it certainly doesn’t hurt that the role is in her native tongue. Every syllable packs an emotional wallop, even the repeated lines where even the most dedicated operagoer’s attention might flag.
Always a compelling and expressive actress, Focile uses her luminous eyes and her pliant body to great advantage in creating the vulnerable Violetta. She also adapts her voice to the differing requirements of the opera’s three acts, from the lighter coloratura lines of the first to the weightier passages of the subsequent two. And nobody can float a pianissimo line more convincingly; you’re on the edge of the seat while the notes fade into little more than a breath.
The down side? If you’re looking for spectacular high notes, this is not the portrayal for you. Focile doesn’t sing the high E-Flat in the “Sempre libera” aria, a note Verdi didn’t write, but nonetheless one that most Violettas who have that note in their arsenal are often eager to sing. Some prominent sopranos of our own time (including Renée Fleming) don’t sing it either. But on this show’s opening night, it wasn’t just the E-flat issue; Focile wasn’t comfortable with many of the score’s high-flying passages, getting right off her high Cs unusually quickly and generally sounding less than easy with anything higher than an A. This role is so famously about high notes that it’s more noticeable here than elsewhere when a soprano has trouble above the staff.
The production’s conductor, Brian Garman (in his Seattle Opera mainstage debut), fielded a succession of wrong notes from the orchestra early in Act I, but everything sounded considerably better as the show went on. Garman is a flexible, pliant conductor who coordinated the big party scenes successfully, but he seemed to be pushing the singers forward a little too hard (especially on Sunday), cutting off some of their more leisurely passages with ill-timed orchestral entrances. The staging, by Mark Streshinsky (also in his Seattle Opera debut), emphasized the characters’ strong reactions to each other, underscoring the emotional content of the work. He also, however, made a few questionable decisions – staging the overture with Violetta in a collapse that presages the death scene, and bringing her future lover Alfredo onto the stage (we’re only supposed to hear his offstage voice) to intrude on the conclusion of her important first-act “Sempre libera” aria.
Visually speaking, it’s a deeply traditional production, with opulent sets borrowed from San Francisco Opera (John Conklin, designer), complete with a dazzling chandelier. The ladies of the chorus have all clearly been shopping at Courtesans R Us for their tiered, flounced party dresses (David Walker, designer). Under Streshinsky’s direction, the chorus roistered away most convincingly. The great Seattle-based dancer/choreographer Sara de Luis was in rare form in a brief but spectacular dance interlude with partner Antonio Granjero.
As Violetta’s lover, Alfredo, Dimitri Pittas gave a remarkably fine performance; his lyrical voice is beautiful but also has some heft where it’s needed, and he is an empathetic, persuasive actor. Charles Taylor was a powerful Germont whose imposing physical presence underscored his vocal strength. Sarah Heltzel was a remarkably good Flora; Emily Clubb made the most of the role of the servant Annina, and several supporting singers made strong impressions (including Leodigario del Rosario, Jonathan Silvia, Barry Johnson and Byron Ellis, among others). Connie Yun’s lighting was particularly effective.
On Sunday the 18th, the alternate cast took over. Opera fans know by now that the second cast does not necessarily take second place, and that was clear from the stellar performance of the three replacement singers: Eglise Gutiérrez as Violetta, Francesco Demuro as Alfredo, and Weston Hurt as Germont. Gutiérrez turned in a beautifully nuanced Violetta with considerable ease and freedom at the top of her register (and, yes, a very good interpolated E-flat); her support and breath control are exemplary, and she’s also an affecting actress. Top marks also for Demuro, who made his US debut in these performances; he is the real deal with his bright, easily produced Italianate tenor, and he cuts a suitably romantic figure on the stage. It was a pleasure to hear Hurt’s very accomplished Germont.
The show continues through Halloween, and with both casts offering considerable strength, you should be in for a good performance no matter which performance you pick. Just allow plenty of time for parking beforehand: several of the previously available lots around McCaw Hall have all but disappeared, and the garage across Mercer Street was so overwhelmed on Saturday night that long lines of cars attempting to enter held up traffic in every direction. Smart operagoers arrive early, dine, hit the gift shop (love those winged helmets), and drift to their seats at leisure
SEPTEMBER 24, 2009: Seattle Symphony Subscription Series opener, with Gerard Schwarz conducting; Jon Kimura Parker and Orli Shaham, pianists.
The Seattle Symphony’s Opening Masterworks concert; Benaroya Hall, Sept. 24, 2009.
By Melinda Bargreen
Gerard Schwarz was the man of the hour in more than one respect on Sept. 24, when he led the Seattle Symphony Orchestra through a remarkable Mozart/Brahms program that marked the opening of the orchestra’s main subscription series. Earlier, mayor Greg Nickels had declared Sept. 24 “Gerard Schwarz Day” in Seattle, in honor of Schwarz’s 25th anniversary season as music director of the Seattle Symphony. And that evening, inside the concert hall, Schwarz presided over a series-opener that represented one of the best starts to the Symphony subscription season in recent memory.
Of course, it doesn’t hurt to stack the deck with three certifiably great works: Mozart’s Concerto for Two Pianos in E-Flat Major, Brahms’ “Variations on a Theme of Haydn,” and Brahms’ mighty Symphony No. 1. It also helps to sign two first-rate soloists for the Mozart: pianists Jon Kimura Parker and Orli Shaham.
The opening “Haydn Variations” began with a few ensemble issues – grand chords that resolved at slightly different points from voice to voice inside the orchestra. Matters improved quickly, however, with more unified attack and more precision; the separate variations were neatly characterized.
The orchestra sounds in great shape, an impression that was more strongly reinforced in the evening’s finale, the Brahms Symphony No. 1. The Symphony and Schwarz have played this masterpiece together many times, but this time the performance was more fluid, with phrases transitioning seamlessly, each line giving way to the next melody with more finish and polish than I remember hearing before. (If memory serves, it’s also a speedier Brahms than in the past.) It sounds as if the players are listening harder to each other, and also more attentive to their conductor; the accelerating pizzicato sections in the opening of the fourth movement, for example, were gratifyingly accurate. Solo work ranged from the fine to the truly distinguished, with Ben Hausmann’s oboe, John Cerminaro’s horn, Christopher Sereque’s clarinet and Maria Larionoff’s violin solos chief among those in the latter category. Mike Gamburg’s contrabassoon underscored many passages with deeply satisfying results.
The evening’s bonbon was the concerto, featuring Parker and Shaham in solo passages with plenty of sparkle. It was interesting to hear how different these two excellent players are – even their pianos sounded different – but also how they were able to craft a performance that really was an ensemble effort, regardless of their individual styles. Of the two pianists, Parker is the more refined, with a greater variety of tone and touch and a way of finishing off a phrase as if it had been gift-wrapped and neatly tied with a bow. Parker and Shaham tossed the melodies back and forth in collegial fashion, with an implicit “over to you” flourish as each took a turn in the musical dialogue.
A warm audience response netted a fun encore, an over-the-top performance of Brahms’ familiar Hungarian Dance No. 5 in F-Sharp Minor (in the one-piano, four-hands version). Maestro Schwarz was tapped as the page turner, much to the entertainment of the audience.
SEPTEMBER 12, 2009: Seattle Symphony Opening Night Gala with Gerard Schwarz, conductor, and John Lill, piano soloist.
By Melinda Bargreen
The Seattle Symphony has started off the 2009-10 season in surprisingly good shape – both fiscal and artistic – despite the tough economy. The week preceding the orchestra’s Sept. 12 Opening Night Gala saw enthusiastic audiences for a creative new series of short Beethoven concerts preceded by wine tasting, with a reported 50 percent of those ticket buyers venturing into a Seattle Symphony concert for the first time. A big fundraising effort this summer netted the orchestra .7 million, aided by a boost from the Charles Simonyi Fund for Arts and Sciences. While labor negotiations between the musicians and the management continue, the musicians have made the very magnanimous gesture of donating their services for the Opening Night Gala in honor of music director Gerard Schwarz’s 25th anniversary with the orchestra.
It was a convivial crowd in the mood for a celebration that gathered in Seattle’s Benaroya Hall for the gala, which opened – in the best gala tradition – with speeches (by board chairman Leslie Chihuly and Schwarz), and went on to a musical fanfare. Resident composer Samuel Jones’ 1980 “Fanfare and Celebration” hit all the right bases for a curtain-raiser: lots of sparkle, with glittering swoops up and down and plenty of pulse-pounding brass.
Pulses stayed high for the rest of the program, too, in which the esteemed British pianist John Lill was the soloist for two of the biggest, splashiest piano concerti in the repertoire: the famous Tchaikovsky No. 1 (Van Cliburn’s signature piece, and that of many other artists, too), and the Rachmaninoff Third (sometimes colloquially known as “Rocky III”).
Lill, now 65, is a superb pianist who isn’t a household name in this country, but is far more interesting than many who are. You won’t see Lill flailing histrionically about at the keyboard, gazing skyward to commune with the spirit of Tchaikovsky, or distorting the music in a performance that’s more about the player than about the score. Instead, Seattle audiences got a blessedly unfussy pair of performances from a player with a technique as huge as anyone playing today, an utter security about everything he does musically, and a breadth of interpretation that includes plenty of poetry along with the fireworks.
The Tchaikovsky was fast and sleek, with accurate large-scale octave passages and the kind of thunder-power it takes to bring off this classic concerto. Lighter passages in the lyrical second movement were played with an uncanny evenness unmarred by the gluey sustaining pedal that covers a multitude of other pianists’ sins. The big arch-romantic scale and scope of the famous score came through in a performance that drew ringing applause.
After intermission, Lill returned as soloist in one of the Rachmaninoff, renowned as a particular challenge (this lengthy and demanding concerto supposedly caused a breakdown in the mentally fragile pianist David Helfgott, as portrayed in the award-winning 1996 movie “Shine”). Lill has been playing the Rachmaninoff since he was 18, in a legendary concert with the late Sir Adrian Boult conducting, and his mastery of this score was evident in every line of the performance. Schwarz and the orchestra gave Lill supportive partnership, managing to keep up with most of the bursts of acceleration, and balances with the soloist were excellent – though Lill’s sonority is so huge that he was easily heard even in fortissimo passages.
The second movement was particularly brilliant, with Lill presenting the huge changes in character of the music as big romantic themes surged forth and receded.
The keyboard theme will continue in the first set of Seattle Symphony “Masterworks” (main subscription series) programming, when pianists Jon Kimura Parker and Orli Shaham joins Schwarz in Mozart’s Double Piano Concerto in E-Flat Major. They’ll be featured in three concerts Sept. 24-27: heads up for ivory fans.
SEPTEMBER, 2009: FALL SEASON PREVIEW FOR SEATTLE CLASSICAL MUSIC
By Melinda Bargreen
How do you know when it’s officially autumn?
Music lovers will tell you it’s when the Seattle Symphony launches its season with the traditional opening-night gala – this year, on Sept. 12, with a celebration of music director Gerard Schwarz’s silver anniversary in that post. The noted English pianist John Lill will be on hand for two of the greatest of the Romantic-era piano concerti: the Tchaikovsky No. 1, and the huge Rachmaninoff No. 3.
But this year, the Symphony is jumping the gun a little with three pre-gala concerts in a new “Beethoven & Wine Festival” (Sept. 9, 10 and 11), also at Benaroya Hall. It’s an intriguing and brand-new format, in which a short intermission-less concert offering a different, popular Beethoven symphony each night is preceded by a wine tasting ( for four pours). Will Beethoven’s Fifth sound even better with a side of vino? Here’s betting plenty of concertgoers will want to find out.
The Seattle Symphony may be the first major classical organization out of the gate this year, but there’s much more to the fall season than orchestral music. Opera fans, by now recovered from Seattle Opera’s three cycles of Wagner’s “Ring” in August, will gather in October for one of the great classics of the Italian repertoire: Verdi’s “La Traviata,” with the lovely Nuccia Focile as the courtesan with the heart of gold, and newcomer Dimitri Pittas as her impetuous lover Alfredo. I can’t remember a season quite like this one for the company, which give us three Verdi operas in a row (“Traviata,” which opens Oct. 17, is followed by “Il Trovatore” and “Falstaff”), and then concludes with a world premiere – Daron Aric Hagen’s flight-themed “Amelia.” Fasten your seatbelts.
Piano fans always look to the President’s Piano Series at Meany for classy recitals, and this year the series gets a Spanish-accented start with Sylvia Toran’s colorful program of works by French composers and those of her native Spain (Oct. 13). French charmer Lise de la Salle returns on Nov. 24, but the heavy-hitter of this series is going to be an unprecedented pair of recitals by the peerless Garrick Ohlsson in January and February. Both programs by this famous Chopin International Piano Competition winner are all-Chopin. Yum.
Ever wonder what’s the difference between a vielle and a viol? On the early-music scene, the great Margriet Tindemans – one of the world’s top authorities on early bowed instruments – presents an overview in performance and explanation of 600 years of the development of bowed strings. The Nov. 15 “Early Music Discovery” program lets you explore instruments and repertoire from the Middle Ages through the Baroque, all in Town Hall’s downstairs space. Early music fans also will want to catch Stephen Stubbs’ Seattle Academy of Opera’s 17th-century program in St. James Cathedral’s chapel on Oct. 11, where they’ll perform works of Monteverdi and two of his contemporaries. And then, there’s the return of baroque violinist Ingrid Matthews, and harpsichordist Byron Schenkman (back from a highly successful sojourn on the modern piano), both of them enlivening the Seattle Baroque Orchestra lineup this season. The first concert is Oct. 24th at Town Hall, where they’ll probe the influences of Corelli.
Always a season highlight, Benaroya Hall’s Visiting Orchestras Series gets underway Oct. 5 with a concert featuring one of the hottest young international violinists, Janine Jansen – who is soloist/leader with the Orpheus Chamber Orchestra in the Beethoven Concerto, and also leads several other works from Bach to Aaron Kay Kernis. Or how about the next of the Visiting Orchestras, the Mozarteum Orchestra of Salzburg (Oct. 27), with cello soloist Johannes Moser in the Haydn C Major?
Tickets will disappear fastest, however, for two fall-season programs presented by the Seattle Symphony. First is the Nov. 1 return of the inimitable Chinese-born sensation Lang Lang, who leads off the “Symphony Specials” as soloist in the seldom-heard Beethoven Piano Concerto No. 2 with Gerard Schwarz and the orchestra (it’s an all-Beethoven concert). And then there’s the Dec. 4 arrival of today’s über-diva, Renée Fleming, in a solo recital (details to be announced).
As always, stay tuned to Classic KING (at 98.1 FM and www.king.org) for features, interviews, updates and everything you need to know about planning your classical calendar. It’s a great time to be a music lover in Seattle.
AUGUST 9-14, 2009: The Seattle Opera “DER RING DES NIBELUNGEN,” with Robert Spano conducting and staging by Stephen Wadsworth.
“DAS RHEINGOLD”
By Melinda Bargreen
You could call it a pilgrimage.
The Wagnerian faithful have arrived in Seattle, from 49 states and 23 countries, to commune with one of the greatest and grandest works of Western culture: Richard Wagner’s four-opera mega-epic, the “Ring.” Like the Olympics, the “Ring” emerges every four years at Seattle Opera, and it’s an event with a capital E in the opera world.
On Sunday night, audiences returned once again to the depths of the Rhine River, where the deep and magical opening E-flat in the orchestra gradually grew and swell into the rippling music that launched the whole saga once again. An hour before curtain time, the lobbies, gift shop, food services, and the outdoor plaza were already crowded with festive opera buffs who also were girding themselves with a little sustenance (“Das Rheingold,” the shortest of the four operas, lasts for more than two and a half hours with no intermission).
It was a mostly-golden “Rheingold.” The production, created in 2001, is getting its third go-round this year, and Thomas Lynch’s rocky, forested sets have lost none of their beauty. Stephen Wadsworth’s stage direction is richer than ever, underscoring the human drama of the plot with believable, imaginative action. The responsive cast reacts visibly to important announcements and developments, drawing in closer to hear what is disclosed.
While the whole “Ring” has about 63 percent new cast members, the “Rheingold” cast still has many of its principals from last time: Greer Grimsley as Wotan, Stephanie Blythe as Fricka and Richard Paul Fink as Alberich. Each continues to add refinements to roles they have already made their own in previous performances. Grimsley is stronger and more nuanced than ever as Wotan, continuing to expand his range as an actor. Blythe practically blew the company off the stage with the power and radiance of her voice; she’s also a very empathetic actress. And Fink as Alberich, the great villain of the “Ring,” threw himself into a very physical role with remarkable zest, snarling and snapping and . . . well, if he had a mustache, he would have been twirling it. Fink’s riveting performance was well matched by the all-out Mime of Dennis Petersen, who turned groveling into an art form.
The great opening scene, when the three Rhinemaidens are revealed in their spinning splendor 20 feet above the stage (they twirl and cavort in specially designed harnesses), drew gasps and applause from the audience. Fortunately the applause for the set, as well as the arrival of singers Julianne Gearhart, Michele Losier and Jennifer Hines, was promptly shushed, because it covered that glorious Wagnerian music. The sold-out house was appropriately silent most of the rest of the time.
Under the direction of conductor Robert Spano (who also led the 2005 “Ring”), the orchestra turned in a heroic performance that also had its off moments (notably among the French horns, which produced enough clams to rival Ivar’s). It also was a rough night for Hines, who was not in best voice, and for Andrea Silvestrelli (as Fasolt), who sounded hoarse and strained. Kobie van Rensburg made a wily Loge, but was vocally underpowered. Marie Streijffert was Erda, and Daniel Sumegi debuted as Fafner. Jason Collins, Gordon Hawkins and Marie Plette shone as the supporting gods.
Next up: “Die Walküre, ” when Valkyries ride again -- always a high point in any “Ring.” Stay tuned.
“DIE WALKÜRE”
By Melinda Bargreen
Nothing gets the pulses pounding for “Ring” fans like the opening of “Die Walküre,” a viscerally exciting musical depiction of a warrior on the run: pounding footsteps, thunder and lightning. We all know the warrior, Siegmund, is about to run into more excitement than he bargained for at the hut of the nasty Hunding.
And Seattle Opera audiences were in for plenty of excitement, too, in a “Die Walküre” that bristled with theatrical urgency and musical energy. Robert Spano’s orchestra was in considerably better form than in the opening “Das Rheingold” on Sunday, with beautiful winds, noble horns and some very fine string playing.
Greer Grimsley went from strength to strength as a noble, fallible Wotan who made every word and gesture count. His performance was full of rich details; an extra-long pause in the repeated phrase, “Das Ende,” had the audience holding its breath too. At the opera’s end, when Wotan has renounced his beloved daughter, Grimsley makes clear his total devastation.
Seldom does the role of Fricka dominate a “Walküre” so compellingly as when Stephanie Blythe is singing. Her voice just gets more amazing with each performance: huge, sumptuous, beautifully crafted waves of mezzo-soprano brilliance. Each note was a thrill. Never has one wished more fervently that Fricka had been given more to sing.
The ill-fated lovers, Siegmund (Stuart Skelton) and Sieglinde (Margaret Jane Wray), were a perfectly matched pair in every respect. Vocally resplendent and exciting to hear, the duo even looked alike, and their acting produced as incandescent an Act I as Seattle Opera has ever presented. The drama was enhanced by the genuinely scary, commandingly dark-voiced Hunding of Andrea Silvestrelli.
It is the role of Brünnhilde that gives this opera its title (“The Valkyrie”), and Janice Baird – a seasoned Wagnerian – is new to this year’s cast. Her Seattle debut last season in “Elektra” already made it clear that she is a compelling actress and a solid dramatic soprano; on Monday night, her “Walküre” performance was a little more variable. At her best, she is a remarkable Brünnhilde who got steadily better as the performance went on; she has looks, acting ability, and impressive high notes. Less effective were the register shifts that pushed hard on the lower tones, and a few pitch issues. Her farewell scene with Wotan was remarkably moving.
The Valkyries were in terrific form. A tip of the winged helmet to Valkyries Miriam Murphy, Sally Wolf, Luretta Bybee, Jennifer Hines, Marie Plette, Sarah Heltzel, Michele Losier and Maria Streijffert.
“Siegfried,” third of four operas in Wagner’s “Der Ring des Nibelungen,” Cycle 1 (the four operas will be repeated twice more in successive weeks, through Aug. 30); Marion Oliver McCaw Hall, Wednesday night (www.seattleopera.org).
“SIEGFRIED”
By Melinda Bargreen
When an opera company’s general director comes to the stage for a pre-performance announcement, it’s almost never good news.
Speight Jenkins’ news was mixed on Wednesday night: the title-role singer in “Siegfried,” Stig Andersen, would go on as scheduled, but was recovering from a viral infection and a fever. Since this role is one of the toughest and most demanding ones in the heldentenor repertoire, it was clear that Andersen might have a rough night ahead.
And so it proved. But even when not at his best, Andersen clearly is a terrific Siegfried, singing the role lyrically and with considerable finesse. The first-act Forging Scene proved a struggle, and there were moments later on when the voice was frayed and fatigued – but there also was much to make the audience glad this fine singing actor had stayed the course. His years of experience in this role have contributed to a high level of interpretive detail. Here’s hoping that Andersen is in great health for Friday’s “Götterdämmerung.”
Both Andersen and his character’s principal antagonist, Dennis Petersen as the nasty dwarf Mime, are new to the “Ring” cast this year. Petersen also made a great impression, using his powerful tenor and his tonal variety to excellent advantage in creating a character unpleasant enough that we forgive Siegfried for dispatching him.
As Mime’s even nastier brother Alberich, Richard Paul Fink made the most of a short scene that includes some desperately needed comic relief: a shouting match between the two brothers that has both of them gibbering with rage, jumping up and down, and throwing things. Here, as elsewhere in the production, Stephen Wadsworth’s expert staging has interaction and engagement always at its core.
Greer Grimsley continues to impress with his Wotan (called the Wanderer in this opera), adding to his rich characterization the pathos of Wotan’s loss of power.
The third major newcomer to the cast, besides Andersen and Petersen, is Janice Baird as Brünnhilde – who doesn’t appear until the third act, but then gets some of the most glorious music in the “Ring” to sing. Her voice was a little more under control than in Monday’s “Die Walküre,” and Baird’s gleaming high Cs were freely produced.
Julianne Gearhart was a beautiful Forest Bird; Maria Streijffert an underpowered Erda, and Daniel Sumegi a resonant Fafner. Robert Spano’s orchestra had a few erratic moments, but some fine individual playing, and the beautiful sweep of this mighty score was all there.
“GÖTTERDÄMMERUNG”
By Melinda Bargreen
The world ended late Friday evening in McCaw Hall, but not without a few unscheduled delays. Between acts in Seattle Opera’s “Götterdämmerung,” company general director Speight Jenkins took the stage to apologize for “gremlins in the house” – computer problems that held up the scene-shifting so long that conductor Robert Spano had to stop the orchestra twice. It’s the first time in 27 “Rings” that I’ve seen this happen, and while it certainly didn’t ruin this mammoth show depicting the destruction and redemption of a corrupt world, it was nonetheless disconcerting.
It was a highly variable “Götterdämmerung,” one with many felicities of staging and singing, but also lots of problems. It’s not a good sign when the most exciting voice on the stage is singing the smaller dual roles of Second Norn and Waltraute. Stephanie Blythe just blew everybody else right off the stage, not just with her voice’s tremendous amplitude, but also with the genuinely artful shaping of every line she sang.
As Siegfried, tenor Stig Andersen reportedly has still not recovered completely from the viral infection that plagued him on Wednesday, though he sounded stronger and more secure. On Friday, he dodged a lot of the high notes (including both Cs) and sang the others with obvious effort. Surprisingly, some of his most beautiful singing came after many hours of performance, in Siegfried’s death scene, which Andersen made genuinely moving.
In the two previous operas, soprano Janice Baird had created a mixed impression as Brünnhilde: a spectacular top register, some unevenness and control issues in the middle, and a wide vibrato throughout. Her “Götterdämmerung” performance was not her best, particularly in the all-important Immolation Scene (where weak, off-pitch singing in the middle register wasn’t fully redeemed by a stronger, high-lying finale). Conductor Spano didn’t help matters by keeping the generally excellent orchestra at roughly the same volume level throughout much of the opera, regardless of the size and onstage placement of the voices.
Daniel Sumegi was a commendable, active Hagen; Gordon Hawkins was a complex, tormented Gunther, and Marie Plette made a lovely, empathetic Gutrune. Richard Paul Fink’s reliably excellent Alberich and the other two Norns (Luretta Bybee and Margaret Jane Wray) also were standouts, as were the three Rhinemaidens (Julianne Gearhart, Michele Losier and Jennifer Hines), in one of the most charmingly staged scenes in the show.
The chorus looked and sounded both well schooled and energetic. Thomas Lynch’s sets and Stephen Wadsworth’s direction ensured there was something lovely to look at every minute, along with some of the most beautiful music ever written. And let’s hope the stage gremlins have left the building, in time for the two remaining “Rings.”
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JULY 27, 2009: The Seattle Chamber Music Society’s Summer Festival at Lakeside School, July 27, 2009.
By Melinda Bargreen
Record-breaking temperatures have accompanied the Seattle Chamber Music Society into its final week at the Lakeside School, where changes in the school’s calendar mean that the festival must find a new home for 2010 and beyond. Exactly how this highly atmospheric and pastoral festival will fare downtown at Benaroya Hall’s Nordstrom Recital Hall remains to be seen; fans have been muttering anxiously about their waning opportunities this summer to picnic on the spacious Lakeside lawns before concerts and stroll the grounds at intermission.
But the festival is more than its venue, however charming that venue may have been. The July 27th program made it clear that the white-hot musical values are really what bring sold-out crowds to Lakeside – and, one hopes, will bring them downtown in the years to come.
The exquisite performance of violinist Stefan Jackiw in the Brahms A Major Violin Sonata (Op. 100) was the jaw-dropper of the evening, as the audience listened raptly to one gorgeous phrase after another. Soaring, passionate, deeply personal and flat-out beautiful, Jackiw’s performance made it more clear than ever before that he’s probably the finest violinist of his generation. Born in 1985, he is already a sure-fingered master of his instrument, but Jackiw has much more than mere technical prowess. His every phrase is shaped with a remarkable intensity; he’s incapable of playing a humdrum line. No matter how many times he appears here in Seattle, it’s always a shock – a wonderful shock – to realize just how great Jackiw is, and how much he continues to grow as an artist.
Jackiw’s pianist partner, Jeremy Denk, joined him in making the most of the surging romanticism of the Brahms, lingering over the phrases and matching Jackiw line for line.
The evening’s opener, the Haydn Piano Trio in E-Flat Major, was an illustration of how a pianist’s talent can animate a trio’s performance. In this case, it was Adam Neiman who was the key player in a spirited reading of the trio, investing every line with beautiful and thoughtful phrasing, and leading in and out of every phrase with a whole arsenal of subtle nuances. Neiman’s playing set off the two strings (violinist Stephen Rose and cellist Toby Saks) in a reading that was very far from “business as usual.”
The evening’s wild card was Bartok’s early (1904, when he was 23) Piano Quintet. It’s an odd stew with all kinds of ingredients: folk themes, romantic melodies, bombastic scales and flourishes, strange stops and starts. It doesn’t sound much like the Bartok most music lovers know, but like a young man being pulled this way and that by many musical impulses. Bartok’s later genius at scoring and instrumental balances is not much in evidence here. Instead, in the performance in question, there were lots of muddy unisons (a particularly bad one at the opening of the Adagio) and lots of grandiose effects in which the various instruments drowned out each other.
The pianist (Neiman again) was the main agent of those effects, and Neiman did a terrific job with the huge-scaled piano part. Striving along with him for the latest big moment were Soovin Kim and Erin Keefe, violins; Richard O’Neill, viola; and Ronald Thomas, cello. It must have taken a tremendous effort to master and rehearse this piece; the audience loved it, but for this listener, at least, that effort would have been better spent on different repertoire.
JULY 8, 2009: The Seattle Chamber Music Society’s Summer Festival at Lakeside School, July 8, 2009.
By Melinda Bargreen
A summer music festival is like a kaleidoscope: a twist of the dial as the musicians reconfigure in each concert, and brilliant new colors emerge. Festival fans are always hoping that each new configuration of violinists, pianists, cellists, violists and auxiliary instruments will be more memorable than the last – a wish that came true July 8th at the Lakeside School.
The last of the three works on the program, Dvorak’s tuneful “Dumky” Trio, emerged in such a camera-ready, recording-studio-perfect form that it was clear artistic director Toby Saks had put the right musicians and the right music together. Violinist James Ehnes (also the festival’s associate artistic director) and cellist Bion Tsang played with a sameness of purpose and a command of nuance that resulted in nearly flawless ensemble and intonation. The strings, beautifully matched, dovetailed neatly as they passed melodies back and forth in a performance that was both soulful and effervescent – and wonderfully unhurried. No one was afraid to top phrases with a bit of schmaltz, especially when Ehnes poured heart and soul into a particularly tasty line in the final movement.
At the piano, Andrew Armstrong provided flowing, limpid keyboard lines that partnered the strings without overwhelming them. Some of Armstrong’s passages were almost miraculously soft, as Ehnes and Tsang drew out pianissimo playing in some of Dvorak’s more tender melodies. No wonder the packed house rang loud and long with applause when the last chord died away.
Not that the first half of the concert didn’t bring rewards of its own: the Mendelssohn Piano Trio in C Minor (Op. 66) and Darius Milhaud’s suite “La creation du monde” each had a share of fine moments. The Mendelssohn brought together violinist Scott St. John, cellist Toby Saks and pianist Jeremy Denk, an ensemble that was not always in good balance. Denk’s playing was uncharacteristically a bit careless in the opening movement, though his second-movement introduction was wonderfully soft-focus and velvety.
In the jazzy Milhaud, pianist Adam Neiman was the stylish, snappy engine that moved the ensemble forward, and violist Richard O’Neill had some exceptionally fine solo passages. The first violinist was Augustin Hadelich, who had earlier played the evening’s pre-concert recital, presenting an unaccompanied program that established his impeccable credentials. The recital, which opened with several high-spirited and seldom-played Telemann pieces (which he is recording for Naxos), made it clear why Hadelich has won an Avery Fisher Career Grant and was the gold medalist at the International Violin Competition of Indianapolis. The incredible precision of his bow arm, and the thoughtful musicianship across a broad spectrum of styles (from Telemann to Paganini), make Hadelich a violinist you want to hear again and again.
This will be the last summer for the festival in its current location; the Lakeside School will be unavailable in the future because of its own expanded summer programs. The Seattle Chamber Music Society is moving the festival to the Nordstrom Recital Hall at Benaroya Hall for 2010 and beyond. For a festival whose ambience has been such a major factor, a shift downtown will offer challenges – but also rewards, in terms of a slightly larger and more acoustically generous performance space. Festival organizers are determined to replicate at Benaroya the pre-concert dinners and the air of friendly intimacy; here’s betting the festival will go forward stronger than ever next season.
JUNE 25, 2009: Seattle Symphony with conductor Gerard Schwarz, world premiere of Kernis’ Symphony No. 3
The Seattle Symphony Orchestra and Chorale, with Gerard Schwarz, conductor, performing world premiere of Aaron Jay Kernis’ Symphony No. 3, and Holst’s “The Planets.” Benaroya Hall, Thursday night, repeated June 26 and June 27 (the latter with Beethoven’s Symphony No. 1 replacing the Kernis work).
By Melinda Bargreen
Talk about your marathon concert!
Seattle Symphony fans knew they were in for a huge-scale evening with Gustav Holst’s lavishly scored “The Planets” on the program. But several days ago, the buzz from rehearsals was all about the mammoth size of the “shorter” work preceding the Holst: the brand-new Symphony No. 3 of American composer Aaron Jay Kernis. Well known to Seattle audiences from his previous premieres here, Kernis surprised his fans with the scale of his new work, which clocked in at just under 75 minutes and deployed full orchestra and chorus (with three soloists).
So what did it sound like? Predominantly tonal, often gorgeously scored with creative sonorities and effective setting of the very substantial texts (poetry by Solomon Ibn Gabirol, translated by Peter Cole). Symphony-goers may well detect elements of Bernstein, Stravinsky, and even (and I don’t mean this pejoratively) John Williams’ more evocative film scores. Complex tone clusters and shimmering harmonies enrich the composer’s musical palette. The performance, led by music director Gerard Schwarz, was given a heroic effort by the players and the Seattle Symphony Chorale – it’s definitely what you’d call a “huge sing” – and by the soloists, particularly baritone Robert Gardner, who had the lion’s share of the solo responsibilities. Gardner’s noble tone and his commitment to the music greatly enhanced the performance.
And the down side? The length, and the volume, of the Symphony No. 3 work against its success. Kernis’s work rises quickly to fortissimo levels and mostly stays there, with all the singers and players chugging away until the listener feels positively beaten into submission. The text, originally written in Hebrew by the 13th-century poet Gabirol, follows a well-trodden path (The Lord is great; I have sinned and repented; grant me redemption). There is a lot of text, too, much of it ardently sung by Gardner, but the size and scale of the accompanying forces mean that it’s often hard to hear the words. This was particularly the case with the soprano soloist, Hyunah Yu, whose delicate, lovely voice was often overwhelmed by the chorus and orchestra. This is one piece where you need not just soloists but helden-soloists. And why have a tenor soloist (Paul Karaitis) if he’s only going to appear an hour into the piece, singing for a few short moments as a voice seconding the baritone?
Schwarz led the performance with passionate conviction. When a large musical work gets ever higher, ever louder, quite early in the course of the piece, however, there’s literally nowhere for the composer to go. For all of Kernis’ gifts, and they are remarkable, this would have been an occasion to take a leaf from the book of Mies van der Rohe: Less, at least a little less, sometimes really is more.
Holst’s “The Planets,” the work of a master colorist, was the evening’s second half, opening with an extremely brisk “Mars” (perhaps a shade too brisk to elucidate those rhythmic figures, but exciting all the same). Despite a few erratic notes from the brass section and some persisting intonation problems in the woodwind choirs, the performance had a great deal of dramatic impact. Several of the solo players acquitted themselves remarkably well, particularly John Cerminaro – whose horn solos in the “Venus” movement were nothing less than exquisite. The women of the Seattle Symphony Chorale, positioned at the upper back of the house for those final wordless lines concluding “Neptune,” gave a mighty effort. It’s a thankless job: you wait for the very end of a lengthy work, then are required to fade to near-silence on high notes above the staff (for the sopranos, at least). Their reward, and that of the orchestra and conductor, was an enthusiastic ovation from the audience.
MAY 28, 2009: Seattle Symphony with cellist Joshua Roman, guest conductor James DePreist.
By Melinda Bargreen
Joshua Roman is the rock star of the Seattle classical music scene – gifted, young, charismatic and fun to watch. Even though Roman has moved on since leaving the principal cello chair at the Seattle Symphony last year, and is starting to make the solo career that most fans predicted he would have, he’s such a beloved figure here that a good-sized contingent of fans followed him back to Benaroya Hall for this week’s subscription concerts with Roman’s former orchestra.
The program, with guest conductor James DePreist on the podium, offered a curtain-raiser (Smetana’s tuneful “Bartered Bride” Overture) and a big main course (Rachmaninoff’s “Symphonic Dances”) in addition to Roman’s vehicle, the world premiere of the David Stock Cello Concerto. It would be nice to say the premiere was an unalloyed triumph, but that wouldn’t be true. While the cello part ranges from the challenging to the appallingly difficult, the work’s technical challenges are not matched by its musical rewards.
Performed in three movements without a pause, the concerto opens with a long, ominous orchestral introduction that includes ear-splitting trumpet fanfares; the early portions of the work offer an unremitting gloom unleavened by the kind of lyrical writing for the solo cellist that would have given the piece more expressive depth. Roman, who gave a heroic performance, was sent scampering all over the fingerboard, with huge interval leaps and landings that were precarious but mostly quite accurate. Repetitious figures in the solo cello were often doubled in (and covered by) the orchestra. Roman’s beautiful sound, one of his chief assets as a performer, wasn’t utilized in the kind of passages that let the soloist sing out.
At its best, the new concerto has a solid rhythmic center in its repeated triplet figures and a good understanding of what is just barely possible to achieve on the cello. At its worst, the piece feels like pastiche, with elements of Saint-Saëns, Bloch, Strauss (one portion sounds like the ending of “Salome”), and “Fiddler on the Roof” (much of the third movement sounds unrelated to the previous musical structure).
The work was originally composed in 2001 and scheduled for its premiere at the Pittsburgh Symphony in 2004, but the soloist (Truls Mørk) fell ill. It does not appear that either the original soloist or orchestra has been particularly eager to reschedule, given the five-year gap since the cancelled premiere.
Roman, DePreist and the orchestra were accorded a standing ovation, which brought Roman back for an all-too-brief encore: the Sarabande from Bach’s G Major Solo Cello Suite. The clean, lovely lines of this piece, in all its exquisite and deceptive simplicity, were like a healing balm to the ear, and a reminder that while music has changed a lot since the 18th century, it hasn’t necessarily gotten better.
DePreist, stricken by polio back in the 1960s, formerly got around with crutches, but now conducts from a motorized wheelchair that zips smartly up a short ramp to the podium. He then extends the chair upward, so the orchestra can see him better. It’s a no-fuss, no-big-deal arrival that symbolizes DePreist’s matter-of-fact attitude toward his own disability: deal with it, move on, and concentrate on the music.
The evening’s major piece, the Rachmaninoff “Symphonic Dances,” found DePreist in particularly good form, drawing a richly romantic performance of these three pieces from the orchestra. This is one work that has always seemed to beg for a bit of creative editing; some of the thematic material is, for this listener, decidedly overworked and over-repeated. But when it’s good, it’s very, very good – especially when the solo portions are played as well as they were in this performance. Elisa Barston, the program’s concertmaster (and regular principal second violinist), played a beautiful solo, with a rich sound and stylistic panache. In a constellation of nice wind solos, the celestial sax lines of Michael Brockman stand out: so smoothly gorgeous that you wanted them never to end.
MAY/JUNE, 2009: Two travel/arts stories in the Norwegian American Weekly
By Melinda Bargreen
By Melinda Bargreen
Norway in late June: could there ever be a better travel destination?
That’s what we were thinking when my best friend since high school and I booked a trip to the homeland of my ancestors, in honor of our 60th birthdays. We had long promised each other a “girlfriends trip” when we reached that scary milestone that meant cheaper tickets at the movies, more expensive medical checkups, and – coming right up – the designation of “senior citizen.”
I was expecting fabulous Norwegian scenery, some midnight sun, and a chance to meet a lot of second cousins for the first time. What I didn’t expect, as a writer and composer, was that Norway also would mean a wonderful new development in my musical career: the discovery of beautiful Norwegian folksongs that led to the composition of an extensive new work for singers and instruments. The premiere was April 25, 2009, at Gordon College in Massachusetts (more about that later on!).
We couldn’t have anticipated, when we began planning our Norway trip, that both my friend Dr. Candace Young and I would also have arrived at career turning points. Just a month before our departure, my 31-year job as music critic for The Seattle Times ended in the wake of downsizing, an all-too-common fact of life for newspapers today. And Candace, who had recently became a psychoanalyst as well as a psychologist, was ready to ponder a new career move that would give her a more international impact. We spent many hours on our journey discussing new directions.
Planning the trip was almost as fun as traveling. Candace began researching hotels, and I started scouting out my family tree, which included many branches full of Norwegian relatives I’d never met. Armed with a little book about Moxness family history that listed many descendants (“Litt om fanejunker Arnoldus Andreassen Moxness og hans etterslekt,” by Johann Weisæth), I went on-line and in a matter of seconds, unearthed contact information that never would have been available in the pre-Internet era. An Internet phone directory (www.nettkatalogen.no) even made a search of married female relatives possible, because it included their maiden names in the search field. I wrote to several second cousins – our grandparents were siblings – and sent off the letters in a state of considerable excitement.
Our travel itinerary gradually evolved: 10 days (not nearly enough!) in Norway, starting with the flight to Oslo and then heading west toward the predictable high points: the train to Myrdal, the precipitous Flåm Railway, the express boat to Balestrand, and an day’s excursion to Fjærland with its fascinating Glacier Museum. From there we went on to Bergen (where we rented a “green” car, a Prius); up the West Coast to Ålesund, then off to Trondheim – home of my ancestors in the Moxness family tree -- by way of the scenic Atlanterhavsveien (Atlantic Way).
The high points were too numerous to record, from Oslo’s famous museums and a first-rate concert by the brothers Håvard and Øyvind Gimse at Grieg’s house in Troldhaugen, to a Midsummer night bonfire in Balestrand, beautiful hikes, and a bike ride around a fjord. There were culinary adventures as well: the famous apple cake at Frognerseteren outside Oslo, the superb fish at Sjøbua Restaurant in Ålesund, and the beautiful smorgasbord prepared by my Trondheim second cousins, the Sjoner family.
Even more thrilling were the meetings with those long-lost relatives: second cousins Tor Hartvig Solheim and his wife Bernadette, and Tor’s cousin Charlotte Menne Bartnes, in Oslo; and another group of second cousins in Trondheim: Cecilie Menne Sjoner, her husband Harald, and their three beautiful daughters Mari, Astri and Ingri; Cecilie’s sister Kine; their mother, Anne-Mari Menne; and their cousins, siblings Knut Menne and Kirsten Menne Stav. The warmth of their kindness and hospitality – sightseeing drives, walks, dinners, and wonderful conversation – is impossible adequately to describe.
Another high point: In the tiny fjord town of Mundal, famous for its bookstores, I found a completely unexpected bonanza -- a wonderful trove of Norwegian folk music that led to a new career direction. Stay tuned for the details in next week’s issue!
PART TWO:
By Melinda Bargreen
Glaciers, glaciers everywhere.
My high-school best friend and I were halfway through a trip to Norway, celebrating our joint birthdays, when we found ourselves in Fjærland – the heart of fjord country, and home to the justly celebrated Norwegian Glacier Museum. Somewhat chilly but in high spirits, we made our way back down to the tiny town of Mundal to await the boat to taking us back down the Sognefjord to Balestrand. The main attraction in little Mundal – besides a tasty lunch at the historic Hotel Mundal – was the picturesque array of bookshops boasting more than 250,000 titles in all sorts of languages. My friend, Dr. Candace Young, and I are inveterate readers and have seldom met a bookstore we didn’t like.
In the back of my mind was an idea proposed by my sister-in-law, the Massachusetts choral conductor and professor Faith M. Lueth, who suggested I look for some Norwegian folksongs to use in my new compositions for chorus and instruments. Ethnomusicology is a big part of music instruction, and Norway has a rich folksong heritage. I went happily from bookshop to bookshop, picking up small volumes of Norwegian song – some of the books nearly a century old.
Back at Kvikne’s Hotel in Balestrand, I looked out over the deep, silent Sognefjord, at the utter peace of the water and the towering glaciers in the near distance. I thought about the powerful feelings expressed in the music: love, mourning, joy, and above all, the tremendous connection to and pride in the Norwegian homeland. These were songs that deserved to be sung and heard around the world.
Back at home, the folksongs seemed the perfect subject for a choral/instrumental work for Gordon College, Mass., where talks regarding my week as artist in residence in April of 2009 were already underway. I began setting seven of the songs for mixed chorus, women’s chorus, piano and oboe in December of 2008, finishing about two months later.
The selection process was very difficult: how to choose among so many melodies? The rich trove of folksongs had already inspired many composers, notably Edvard Grieg. I directed a couple of musical nods toward Grieg in these settings, notably in the open-fifth piano accompaniment to “Vi vil oss et land,” which recalls the opening figures of Grieg’s “Wedding Day at Troldhaugen.” (Strictly speaking, “Vi vil oss” isn’t a folksong so much as a patriotic song, composed in 1895 by Christian Sinding.)
Things really got interesting, however, when I started comparing various versions of the folksongs – which exist, like folksongs everywhere, in several different forms. The musical differences, however, were nothing compared with the linguistic ones. The Norwegian language, I discovered from my translator Kristina Strombo, is a fascinating compendium of regional dialects and historical variations, complicated by Norway’s political history under Danish rule and a union with Sweden. Translating the folksong texts was no easy task. A few of the lines remained impenetrable even to well-educated native speakers.
Thanks to my Norwegian second cousin Tor Hartvig Solheim, however, expert aid was enlisted first from the Hardanger and Voss Museum, leading to contact with Ingrid Gjertsen of the Arne Bjørndals Samling, Grieg Academy (University of Bergen). It was Ms. Gjertsen who finally solved the riddle of certain obscure lines in the songs “Inga Litimor” and “Eg veit ei liti gjente.” Prof. Velle Espeland of the Norsk Visearkiv (Norwegian Folk- and Popular Song Archives) provided much valuable information about sources and meaning of these folksongs.
It is my hope that these arrangements will bring forward the seven folksongs (two of them are combined in a single movement) into the 21st century, to be heard again in a new, contemporary format that still retains the original character of these works. There is a stirring patriotic song; a deeply sorrowful song of love and death; and two buoyant melodies celebrating the beauty of the countryside and the enticements of a beguiling red-cheeked girl who lives in the north woods. There’s a playful ditty, a celebration of the comforts of home, and a ballad about a mysterious singing woman whose poetic forebears can be traced back to the Middle Ages. The Norwegian Folksong Suite was heard for the first time on April 25, 2009, at Gordon College, with Faith Lueth conducting the College Choir and Women’s Choir. Eventually you can hear a recording of the whole suite on my website (www.melindabargreen.com), but for now, a test version of the first movement (“Vi vil oss et land”) is already posted on the site, and the sheet music is available to choruses everywhere. Enjoy – and tusen takk!
MAY 14, 2009: R.I.P. Julian Patrick, a great singer and teacher
By Melinda Bargreen
Julian Patrick, the Seattle-based baritone whose credits extended from Broadway theater to Wagner’s “Ring,” died May 8 while on vacation in Santa Fe, New Mexico.
A much-revered teacher (he was a University of Washington emeritus professor) as well as a singer of tremendous versatility, Mr. Patrick created the role of George in Carlisle Floyd’s opera “Of Mice and Men,” and was in the original casts of the Broadway shows “Once Upon A Mattress,” “Bells Are Ringing,” and “Fiorello.” Mr. Patrick also performed more than 100 major roles worldwide with major European and U.S. opera companies; in Seattle, he drew international raves for his Alberich, the central villain of Wagner’s “Ring.” He performed with Seattle’s 5th Avenue Theatre as Benjamin Franklin in “1776,” Tony in “The Most Happy Fella,” and Judge Turpin in “Sweeney Todd.”
A true man of the stage, Mr. Patrick created many remarkable performances here in Seattle, as well as at the Metropolitan Opera, Theâtre de Genève, Vienna Volksoper, L’Opéra du Rhin, Marseille Opera, Netherlands Opera, Welsh National Opera, New York City Opera, San Francisco Opera, Chicago Lyric Opera, Houston Grand Opera and Dallas Opera. Even into his 80s, this born performer loved the stage: he created the acting role of the tormented Gad Beck in the premiere of “For a Look or a Touch” with Seattle’s Music of Remembrance, and later recorded it on the Naxos label.
Born in Mississippi in 1927, Mr. Patrick grew up in a music-loving family and joined the Apollo Boys Choir of Birmingham, beginning a singing career that continued through high school and in his stint in the Navy. He went on to the (then) Cincinnati Conservatory to study music. Early performances with the impresario Boris Goldovsky led to some operatic appearances, but the young singer’s work on a master’s degree was interrupted when he was drafted back into military service in 1951, during the Korean War. Based in New York as the singer with the First Army Band, Mr. Patrick found that his uniform got him into Metropolitan Opera standing-room for free.
Mr. Patrick later began auditioning for Broadway shows, finding his first success in 1954 with “The Golden Apple” – leading to other opportunities, including operatic ones, touring the country with the Metropolitan Opera National Company for two years. In addition to familiar operatic roles in “La Boheme,” “Madame Butterfly” and “The Marriage of Figaro,” Mr. Patrick undertook roles in such new works as Douglas Moore’s “Carrie Nation” and Leonard Bernstein’s “Trouble in Tahiti.”
A creator of roles in many opera and Broadway premieres, Mr. Patrick had strong views on what made new music successful.
“If a composer writes something that is melodically and harmonically accessible and is dramatically compelling it's very likely the critics won't like it,” Mr. Patrick told one interviewer.
“They are somehow wedded to pieces that are outrageously difficult to play and listen to because they think it is the 'future' of music. I think that the return to melody, however derivative it seems, is most welcome. You may say, ‘Oh, it sounds like Puccini.’ Well, thank God. That's wonderful. . . I think that returning to singable lines and to pieces that are dramatically convincing is the right step. There are so many wonderful new pieces now. The greatest of them take compelling stories and set them to music that enhances them and connects to the audience.”
Mr. Patrick is survived by his life partner for 56 years, Donn Talenti, and also by the Talenti-May family and two cousins, Dr. Bernard Patrick and Ann Nelson Lambright. A memorial event will be scheduled for late June.
MAY 7, 2009: “Bach to Byte,” Seattle Conference on Music and Technology
By Melinda Bargreen
“Only connect.”
E.M. Forster’s famous dictum, from his novel “Howard’s End,” emerged as the mantra for Seattle’s “Bach to Byte” conference on the future of classical music and technology. The second in a series of Classical Summits created by Seattle arts administrator Jennifer McCausland, this one brought together in Benaroya Hall’s Founders Room a stellar cast of panelists and presenters, including some of the world’s top producers and directors in classical music, dance and opera: Pamela Rosenberg, Intendant (general director) of the Berlin Philharmonic Orchestra; Speight Jenkins, general director of Seattle Opera; D. David Brown, executive director of Pacific Northwest Ballet; and Gerard Schwarz, Seattle Symphony music director.
On the technology side: Christina Calio (director of music and entertainment marketing for Microsoft’s music brand Zune), Matthew Bruno (director of business development, Microsoft), Elizabeth Coppinger (vice president of video services, RealNetworks); Margo Drakos (CEO of InstantEncore.com, a music and networking site); Forrest Gibson (IT director of Experience Music Project, Seattle); Marty Ronish (executive producer of multi-media company Sweet Bird Classics); and Ben London (executive director of the Recording Academy, Pacific Northwest Chapter). They joined radio experts Dean Sven Carlson (producer of the international radio show Fusion) and Bryan Lowe (program director of KING-FM, who led KING to become one of the first stations in the world to stream music online).
The conference came at a time of considerable upheaval. The recording industry is, to put it mildly, struggling, with many experts declaring that the CD is already obsolete; the ground is shifting beneath the feet of musicians and technologists with respect to the dissemination of music online and the requirements of copyright law. Several countries are changing their anti-piracy laws at a time when many free-internet proponents are declaring that the development of a “celestial jukebox” (free Internet streaming of all music, all the time) is inevitable.
So is technology the friend, or the foe, of classical music? Will it halt the slide toward marginalization that great music has taken in past 15 or 20 years, in the wake of the pop-music and celebrity juggernaut? Will it enable classical music to reach millions of new listeners – or will it do so by ripping off the people who compose, perform and produce music, by disseminating it for free?
The Bach to Byte conference didn’t answer all those questions; no conference could. But over and over again, the technology experts had the same advice to the arts groups: Use the Internet, and its many varied features, to connect not only with your potential audiences, but to link those potential listeners together in a community.
Everyone seems hungry for community these days, from the Second Life virtual-reality participants to Facebook and MySpace members, Twitter followers, and YouTube aficionados. People want a connection with the classics that extends beyond going to the performances into being part of an online community, according to Microsoft’s Matthew Bruno: “They want a connection that lasts.” How to make that connection was the subject of most of the rest of the conference.
Keynote speaker Pamela Rosenberg, representing what has been called the greatest orchestra on the planet, talked about her concern that their art form has been so marginalized that it is “irrelevant for 98% of society. But it is important for the civic and mental health of society, and we need to create a future for it.” That future, for an orchestra that already sells out 96% of all its concerts in Berlin, is a massive outreach into the online world with the Digital Concert Hall – an innovation that allows paying listeners to stream live performances into their home computers (and television screens). Subscribers also have access to archived concerts, so they can hear a whole season’s worth of repertoire.
The Digital Concert Hall, Rosenberg explained, originated before her tenure – in 2005, when a sold-out Taipei concert by the Berlin Philharmonic was simulcast onto a screen outside, and 40,000 people were watching, “screaming like teeny-boppers,” as Rosenberg put it. How to bring more Berlin concerts to Asia and other regions where the company only infrequently tours? Live streaming was the answer.
With a grant from Deutsche Bank in 2007, the Berliners had the money to buy equipment – including five cameras so discreet that most audience members have no idea they’re there -- and put the legal structures in place. The orchestra plays 90-95 concerts a year in Berlin, and another 40 on the road. In Berlin, each program is repeated three times; the third one streams, and the others are filmed to cover any technical problems. The grant also allowed for behind-the-scenes filmed features, an educational program with “a huge amount of interactive programming for kids,” and all the program books for the orchestra’s 127-year history to be put online.
It’s expensive. The Berlin Phil needs at least 7,000 takers to break even, which is why streaming a single concert will cost you €10, or €149 for a full season. (That’s about 3.60 for a concert, 02.72 for a season.) The orchestra has worked out a payment agreement that Rosenberg calls “very reasonable,” and guest conductors and soloists get 20 cents a hit (25 cents a hit when listener levels hit 5,000). So far, they have 4,000-5,000 single ticket buyers, which Rosenberg feels is “very disappointing. We thought the world would be waiting for us, and the world doesn’t know we’re here.” It’s going to take three years, she believes, to build a worldwide community.
Because a worldwide advertising campaign would be too expensive, the Berliners are looking for like-minded partners – like “Die Zeit,” a serious weekly newspaper, and the Friends of the Salzburg Easter Festival (which the Berlin Phil plays annually). The orchestra has already established its own YouTube channel and a Facebook page. Thus far, “China has ignored us completely,” Rosenberg reports – but perhaps the orchestra’s projected visit there next year will stir up interest in the Digital Concert Hall.
How to build community, not only for the Berlin Philharmonic’s simulcasts but also for the classical groups in general, was the subject of all that followed Rosenberg’s keynote speech. Here are a few of the major points made by panelists:
-- Start a dialogue with listeners and fans whenever possible. Take a leaf out of the book of rock bands, whose members blog on tour, and users are back every day to read the latest posts. Let audience members write reviews on the Opera or Ballet or Symphony websites; welcome the audience members as peers instead of talking at them.
-- Focus on “three screens in the cloud” – TV, phone and PC all available to you in the sky so you don’t have to carry them. Example: Netflix is in your PC, your TV/VCR, on the phone you’re watching on the bus, in your Xbox at home, and the movie you’re watching on one device picks up where you stopped when you activate another device. People want your content wherever they are, so examine ways to provide that content and connect with them.
-- People have “pretty much abandoned the idea they will make money off the CD.” Listeners want to stream audio, and the younger ones, in particular, don’t want to pay for it.
-- But nonetheless, in 2007 12% of the music sold on iTunes was classical, while only 3% of CDs were. There is a willingness to pay among classical fans; in the teen market, that willingness is very low.
-- It might be possible to hook fans by offering a free day of content. It takes time on the Internet to build community (as the Berlin Philharmonic is discovering). You have to try everything to see what works: YouTube, Facebook, MySpace, and put content out there. Find online communities that reach the people you want to reach, like parenting sites, for instance. People need to see your offer over and over.
-- People find music in two ways: radio, and their friends. They’re more willing to trust friends than professionals or experts.
-- Radio provides opportunities for classical groups, like KING-FM’s Opera Channel and Symphonic Favorites, to record features and interviews and other content that add value to the concert experience. It’s also possible to produce short (one-minute) audio features that arts organizations can send to their friends – and ask them to pass on to their own email lists to “do the marketing for you.”
-- Give your audience the tools to promote you and harness technology to build a fan base. Give audience members an inexpensive card to download the concert when they get home; they become your on-line fan, and alerts go out to everyone who is a fan of, say, Stravinsky, or your guest soloist, or the arts organization itself.
-- Re-engineer your website so people can buy and print their own tickets at home, making it easier for them to attend. Use the website as a way to deepen the experience for your audience; put up user-generated content as well as featured and interviews from the artists and the company.
-- If you have a record label, ask them to set up a subsidiary site for you that you will maintain. Seattle Symphony’s executive director Tom Philion observed that orchestras can reach the vast world of gamers by performing music from games; the word about the upcoming concert quickly spreads through the world of gaming sites.
-- Seattle Opera’s administrative director Kelly Tweeddale noted that an ongoing site called ProjectAudience.org is just getting started: a collaborative, community-level audience development project for the cultural sector, jointly led by Seattle’s ArtsFund and the Phoenix Alliance for Audience. You can participate, or monitor its progress.
-- A small dance company filmed its dress rehearsal and put it on MySpace, and its audience for the performance trebled. Use the web for this kind of advance promotion.
-- The Metropolitan Opera’s live streaming into movie theaters has reached new audiences, with 920,000 attending last season – more than attended the actual performances at the Met. Of course, not every company can afford to do live streaming into movie theaters (some sources say the Met can’t, either).
-- The YouTube Symphony, which got 15 million hits in the past month, was designed not by a symphony or other arts organization but by a young project manager at Google getting his MBA. His experience of the world is different. Stars like Lang Lang are using Twitter and virtual-reality site Second Life to reach fans who wouldn’t respond to standard classical sites. People want to participate; they want to be together online without being in the same room. “One of these days you’ll get there,” said media lawyer Kelly Jo MacArthur of Second Life, adding that she hoped her audience would not feel “threatened by any of these Internet developments.”
The conference’s final panel brought together Rosenberg, Schwarz and Jenkins for a discussion on how they use technology and where they might go from here. Jenkins explained that Seattle Opera has streamed worldwide via KING-FM since 1998, and has heard from listeners as far away as Cairo. A three-minute informative clip on the company’s website was used by the national service organization OperaAmerica. Thus far, Jenkins has filmed KING-FM Opera Channel features on a total of 16 different operas, also streamed worldwide.
Do phenomena like Lang Lang and the YouTube Symphony really create more audiences for classical music generally, or (as in the case of the Three Tenors) just a greater appetite for the specific performer? All the panelists thought the latter.
Regarding the issue of free streaming of musical content, all were equally firm. As Jenkins put it, “Our passion is music, but it’s also our livelihood. We spend our lives creating intellectual property, and it can’t all be for free. Whenever Seattle Opera material has been used [without authorization] on the Internet, we’ve stopped it every time. The Metropolitan Opera moves instantly and with great power to stop the same thing.”
Gerard Schwarz agreed, but noted the immense power of annual TV broadcasts of the Mostly Mozart Festival (which he ran for 20 years) to sell tickets – even to the show that people got to see free on their own television sets. One year when the TV broadcast ran at the end of the season, no tickets were sold. “I would have given that away,” says Schwarz of the broadcast, “because ticket sales are where we make our living.” Public TV broadcasts of Seattle Symphony concerts have sold “tons of tickets,” Schwarz reports.
Do the Met simulcasts in movie theaters really increase opera audiences? Jenkins says that in every American survey of this phenomenon, the same results are found: people who attend are either opera people/subscribers, or people who can’t afford opera tickets. Thus the net effect is not greater ticket sales at the Met.
Everyone agreed that opportunities to reach the young must be found. For example: in Berlin, where most of the concerts sell out, Rosenberg has initiated a policy of withholding 50 tickets for every concert specifically for people 28 and younger; those tickets sell for €15.
Was there a disconnect between the technologists and the classicists? Maybe. There was certainly a fair amount of “talking down” going on, especially when one presenter told the audience they probably weren’t even using computers 10 years ago. Jaws dropped all over the room, not only by this writer (who had written literally thousands of reviews and columns on computers before 1999) but by such figures as Seattle Opera’s Jenkins, who in 1998 had already written an extremely sophisticated on-line guide to connecting one’s PC in the technical nightmares of European hotel Internet systems.
The “only connect” mantra was getting a real workout in Benaroya Hall’s Founders Room. Some of the connections seemed to be working; time will tell whether the often-repeated connection advice (Facebook, YouTube, Twitter, user-generated content, etc.) is really going to work. For one thing, recent statistics suggest that 60% of Twitter users drop out after a month because it’s pretty boring to read someone texting “This is what I’m doing and it’s really cool!” over and over. And according to analysts at Credit Suisse, YouTube is going to lose 70 million this year. Judging from the number of concert invitations this writer is seeing on Facebook, their ability to influence the greater community might be fairly minor. Further, there is something dispiriting in being told that potential audiences really are more interested in the faux-communities connecting with each other online than in the experience of live, real community of the kind that performing artists spend their lives reaching from the stage. That’s enough to put a little byte in your Bach.
MAY 2 and 3, 2009
“The Marriage of Figaro,” Mozart opera in Seattle Opera production; May 2-16, 2009
By Melinda Bargreen
Mozart’s “The Marriage of Figaro” can survive almost any staging, given its perfect balance of characters and its nonstop supply of great tunes. But it takes an excellent cast, a lyrical conductor and a keen-eyed stage director to make this classic take off like a jet and soar for three and a half hours. Fortunately, Seattle Opera has put together just such a production in its current “Marriage of Figaro,” with its sparkling cast and a pace that never falters.
The show’s two catalysts are Christine Brandes, as the clever Susanna, and Mariusz Kwiecien, as the sometimes-clueless Count. Both are first-rate singing actors at the height of their powers; Brandes, heard here earlier as Cleopatra in “Julius Caesar,” has a lovely sound and an unerring stage sense that always seems to move the action forward in intriguing new ways. Her “Deh vieni non tardar” was exquisitely subtle.
Kwiecien, one of today’s great baritones and one who is in demand around the world, makes an extraordinary Count: smoothly seductive, pathologically jealous, manipulative and manipulated. Playing the Count as a blustering dummy, as many singers do, just won’t work; Kwiecien gives him an almost dangerous edge on occasion, reminding us of the real power of the 18th-century aristocrat.
Propelling these two leads, and the rest of the cast, through a seamless sequence of fast-moving scenes is the contribution of stage director Peter Kazaras, who rouses the whole cast to cannily inspired, motivated action. Pacing is everything in this sparkling comedy; here there are no longueurs where the drama draws to a screeching halt as an aria or an ensemble begins. It’s a very physical comedy: characters lurch and sprawl and fall flat; they slap each other with a resounding smack; they dash and dart into rooms and out of windows.
Dean Williamson, an opera conductor with long ties to Seattle Opera, kept the music flowing evenly forward, thanks in large part to his adroit harpsichord recitative partnership of the singers (as Williamson alternated between conducting and playing throughout the evening). After a rather rocky start with some timing problems, Williamson and the cast found their pace, and never looked back. The orchestra provided a crisp, incisive performance that featured particularly nimble playing from the French horns.
Oren Gradus proved a winning Figaro, with a warm baritone and a great comic sense. He’s an appealing actor, and his scenes with Brandes’ Susanna had a lot of wit and sparkle.
These days it’s always a struggle to convince audiences that the woman singer in the “pants role” is supposed to be male, but Daniela Sindram jumped that hurdle neatly with a performance as Cherubino that was both vocally and theatrically convincing.
As the Countess, Twyla Robinson was a bit uneven: a good singing actor with an attractive tone quality, but a troublesome edge above the staff that made the high notes less pleasant to hear. Her “Dove sono,” always a challenge because of its extended legato phrases, was smooth and nicely supported.
Considerable care was given to casting all the supporting roles. Arthur Woodley was excellent as the blustering, vengeful Dr. Bartolo. Ted Schmitz was terrific as the wryly foppish Don Basilio and the epically stuttering Don Curzio. Leena Chopra was an appealing Barbarina; Barry Johnson, Jennifer Bromagen and Yeon Soo Lee shone in smaller roles.
And Joyce Castle was an absolute star in the choice little role of Marcellina, which often is a throwaway – but not this time. Every detail of her comic role has been perfectly thought out, and Castle’s resonant voice can still shiver your timbers.
The action played out on a serviceable but basic period set, designed by Susan Benson for the Banff Centre. Jonathan Dean’s cheeky, contemporary titles included such gems as “She’s his mother? I guess the wedding is off.”
On Sunday, an alternate cast took over the leading roles, and as always, these changes make for a strikingly different show. (A second run-through often shows improvements in the flow of the production; the opening-night ensemble problems in the first act had vanished only a few hours later in the Sunday performance.) The alternate cast, which also is heard on May 8, 10 and 15, featured a Figaro of unusual strength and merit in Nicolas Cavallier, who made his U.S. debut in this performance. Perfectly at home in this role, Cavallier demonstrated considerable vocal range and theatrical panache, making any opera lover eager to see what else he can do.
Opposite Cavallier, the suave and low-key Count of Johannes Mannov made for a completely different balance between these two leading men. Elizabeth Caballero, the new Susanna, proved a take-charge actress, as well as a singer with a big sound and a fast vibrato. Sarah Castle was a winning Cherubino with an appealing voice and a sure sense of comedy. As the Countess, Jessica Jones had an affecting dignity, and the role was a good fit for her vocal resources.
Beth Kirchhoff’s chorus was deployed briefly, but effectively. Ted Schmitz and Leena Chopra, by the way, are former Seattle Opera Young Artists, and their stage-worthiness was a strong endorsement of the success of that program.
APRIL 5, 2009
By Melinda Bargreen
Special to The Seattle Times
"Almost Home: Stories of Hope and the Human Spirit in the Neonatal ICU"
by Christine Gleason, M.D.
Kaplan, 224 pp., 6.95
The babies that arrive in the intensive-care unit are often so tiny that they fit into the palm of a hand — and they're often desperately ill. You might think the survival struggles of these challenged newborns would make depressing reading, yet Dr. Christine Gleason's new memoir, "Almost Home," is anything but a downer. Instead, it's a testament to the strength of the human spirit, and the indefatigable commitment of the women and men who try to save the tiny preemies against all odds.
Dr. Gleason, who has served as chief of neonatology and professor of pediatrics at the University of Washington and Seattle Children's Hospital since 1997, is a terrific storyteller: frank about her successes and her shortcomings, and deeply involved with her subject.
We see her in tears as an intern, ready to quit medicine when she thought she had been responsible for the death of one baby. (As it turned out, Gleason had done nothing wrong, and the baby died of a congenital heart defect.)
We watch her triumphs with a correct and obscure diagnosis and a last-ditch effort that suddenly saves a life. Throughout every chapter shines her strong and personal empathy with the tiny patients and the terrified parents. Gleason shows us the babies who prevailed over the odds with surprising toughness, and the ones who broke everybody's hearts when the struggle was too great.
Each chapter centers on a particularly memorable episode with a unique challenge posed by a baby in trouble. There's Jazmine, a sweet toddler who had been the first newborn Gleason continued to treat as a pediatrician; could Gleason have foreseen her eventual health crisis when Jazmine was an infant? And Emily, born with a rare syndrome into a family with already-high stress levels (her father began his medical residency on the day she was born); how would her parents cope?
Throughout the book, the reader is sharply aware of the terrible burden of responsibility that rests on the neonatologist's shoulders, often when there are only seconds to take the right action or the wrong one. The responsibility rests especially heavy on those who care deeply about their patients, as Gleason obviously does. And then there are the ethical issues: how hard should the doctors work to save a baby who is so severely compromised that its inevitably short life will be full of painful surgeries that can only be a temporary fix?
Along the way, Gleason discusses her personal life upon occasion, and it's a bit jarring to segue from preemie disasters and triumphs to an adult saga of early marriage, incompatibility, infidelity (his, not hers) divorce and remarriage. Some of the language usage, such as the word "angst" used as a verb ("Later, I was to angst over and over again about that little decision"), sounds questionable. Some chapters look as if they'd been moved around late in the book's development, with (for example) an explanation of the word "pneumothorax" given as if for the first time in the last chapter, when preceding chapters already explained it.
But these are small matters in a book that so consistently engages both the brain and the heart. Gleason brings us into the newborn intensive-care unit, trying an experimental therapy on a dying newborn, and she writes: "A shiver ran through me and the hair on my arms stood on end. This was one of those moments in my career that I will never forget. A baby brought back from the brink of death, if only for an instant." And the reader shivers, too, sharing the wonder, terror and hope this author so memorably expresses.
APRIL 2, 2009
Seattle Symphony presents the world premiere of Samuel Jones’ Trombone Concerto, with Gerard Schwarz conducting and Ko-ichiro Yamamoto, trombone soloist; program includes Vadim Repin in the Brahms Violin Concerto, and the “Rounds” of David Diamond. Benaroya Hall, April 2, 2009.
By Melinda Bargreen
It’s good to be the commissioner of a new concerto, especially if you’re working with composer Samuel Jones. Seattle arts patrons Charles and Benita Staadecker wanted to celebrate their 25th wedding anniversary by funding a brand-new trombone concerto; Jones, the Seattle Symphony’s resident composer, already had produced two successful concerti for brass instruments. His Tuba Concerto, composed for Seattle a few years back in honor of a Boeing aeronautical engineer (it’s complete with some orchestral sounds simulating a wind tunnel), was such a crowd pleaser at its debut that conductor Gerard Schwarz and tubist Christopher Olka reprised it another orchestral program a few months later; the same performers have since recorded it on a new Naxos CD in the ”American Classics” series.
When the Staadeckers got together with Jones to plan the new Trombone Concerto, Charles had a few extra-musical ideas in mind. Could the new work contain references to his happy formative years at Cornell University?
Indeed it could. The resulting concerto, subtitled “Vita Accademica” and premiered to an all-out, tumultuous ovation, is a programmatic piece that includes musical equivalents of a campus carillon, a hymnlike alma mater (though Jones resisted the temptation to quote explicitly the Cornell anthem, “Far Above Cayuga’s Waters”), a rousing football game, and a brief drunken episode (complete with tipsy swoops of the trombone). The concerto, with its firm tonal center and richly scored themes – the second movement is particularly beautiful – would be enjoyable without any knowledge of its underlying program, though its virtuoso requirements are so challenging that not many trombonists may be up to them. The soloist, the orchestra’s principal trombone Ko-ichiro Yamamoto, certainly was, though he confessed afterward that the scoring was “so high and so hard, I almost blacked out.”
Gerard Schwarz, who celebrates his 25th season as Seattle Symphony music director next season, called the concerto premiere “the most joyous of the more than 150 premieres I’ve conducted.” The audience was in apparent agreement. But that wasn’t all: after intermission came the rare treat of hearing a great violinist at the absolute top of his game, in a concerto he was born to play. It was Vadim Repin with the Brahms Violin Concerto, which he recently recorded for Deutsche Grammophon with the Gewandhausorchester (Riccardo Chailly conducting). Apart from some tiny flaws (a pair of errant first-movement double-stops), Repin’s live performance surpassed his recording in terms of sheer brio and freedom of interpretation, with elastic tempi and stunning bow-arm control. Schwarz stayed with him, giving the soloist plenty of room to make the phrases breathe.
Repin’s stage manner is not always the most ingratiating, but when a lengthy ovation brought him back for an encore, he wooed the audience with a spectacular performance of Paganini’s “Carnival of Venice” Variations that made the near-impossible sound easy.
MARCH 26, 2009
The Seattle Symphony Orchestra, with Gerard Schwarz conducting and Andre Watts, piano soloist; Benaroya Hall, March 26.
By Melinda Bargreen
“Oh, the Grieg Piano Concerto,” sighed an acquaintance.
“They’re doing that again? Do we really need to hear another performance? Shouldn’t the Symphony retire it?”
The answer to this one is easy: No, they shouldn’t retire it. For all of us who have heard the Grieg Concerto many times, there will be young people and newcomers in the audience who’ve never heard this supremely tuneful, arch-romantic piece before. There also will be many people who want to hear it again, judging from the audience response to the recent Seattle Symphony subscription program with Gerard Schwarz conducting and Andre Watts as soloist. Retiring the Grieg from the repertoire would be like rolling the Venus de Milo into a closet, and telling Louvre visitors, “Everybody’s seen this old statue, and photos of it, so many times. We’re replacing it with a nice ground-breaking modern statue made out of egg crates and coconuts.”
Not that a symphony orchestra is a museum – but orchestras do have a certain curatorial responsibility to great works of the past, as well as to commissioning new works of our own time. (For one of the latter, stay tuned next week when the Seattle Symphony unveils a new trombone concerto by resident composer Samuel Jones, beginning April 2.)
Having said all this, and despite a roaring audience ovation that began before the first movement had quite ended, this performance of the Grieg Concerto did not find soloist Andre Watts at his best. Famous for a brilliant, explosive technique that makes light of any challenge, Watts delivered some imposing firepower in the octave passages that roll up and down the keyboard, but he tripped up in relatively easy passages and suffered a few minor slips in concentration. Conductor Gerard Schwarz gave him responsive, supportive help from the podium, though he was hard pressed to keep up with Watts’ bursts of acceleration. The audience, evidently reveling in the piece and its virtuoso treatment, brought back Watts and Schwarz to the stage several times with resounding applause.
The Bruckner Symphony No. 3 made up the second, longer half of the program. It’s a lengthy, expansive, richly orchestrated work that brings out varying responses in listeners. I’m usually torn between considering it a genuine masterpiece and wondering whether the composer had an attention-deficit disorder, given the number of detours and sudden turns in this expansive work.
Schwarz gave the Bruckner an expansive, unfussy treatment that made clear his genuine affection for this big score. The performance had moments of stunning impact and virtuoso playing. It also made listeners aware of the work that is still to be done with the orchestra. Several of the sections in the brass, woodwinds and strings are playing the same (or almost the same) notes at the same time, but they don’t always play as a cohesive, well-blended section. The Bruckner cries out for “choirs” of instruments that really are one voice, shaping the sound in the same way and moving as a single entity. It would be interesting to see if this program, which is repeated three more time (through March 29), develops that kind of coherence in the Bruckner Third.
MARCH 19, 2009
Review: The Seattle Symphony with Leonard Slatkin, guest conductor, and violin soloist Julian Rachlin. Benaroya Hall, March 19.
By Melinda Bargreen
Conductor Leonard Slatkin is famous as an orchestra builder, with long and successful tenures at both the St. Louis Symphony and Washington D.C.’s National Symphony (among many other posts). On Thursday night at the Seattle Symphony, Slatkin showed just why he has brought so many orchestras to a higher pitch of excellence. His concert was remarkable, eliciting some of the finest playing I’ve ever heard from the Seattle Symphony.
The program’s opener, Britten’s “Four Sea Interludes” from the opera “Peter Grimes,” captured the many moods and colors of these picturesque pieces. But the best was yet to come in the evening’s centerpiece, Berlioz’s arch-romantic “Symphonie fantastique.” Under the benevolent gaze of Slatkin (who didn’t use a score), the orchestra blossomed, following him in a performance of huge contrasts -- with sudden explosions of sound and crisply enunciated phrases.
The fast movements had a sense of inexorable forward propulsion, realizing the surging romanticism of the score. The waltz movement was elegantly phrased by the violins; the woodwind ensembles were considerably more precise than usual. Slatkin made the hall’s acoustics work for him in the placement of offstage players (oboe and timpani). He also pushed the orchestra’s dynamic range hard, in both directions: passages that barely whispered, and earsplitting blasts of brass (notably in the March to the Scaffold). The finale was positively electric.
No wonder the audience gave Slatkin and the players a resounding ovation.
It didn’t hurt that the evening’s soloist was the brilliant violinist Julian Rachlin, a Lithuanian-born artist in his mid-30s whose technique and commitment to the Stravinsky Violin Concerto riveted the Benaroya Hall audience. This concerto isn’t always a crowd-pleaser, but in these hands it was. Rachlin’s technical mastery and his command of extraordinary tonal variety did this quirky, often whimsical work full justice. He shaped the musical lines with both incisive energy and great refinement, with an infinitely subtle bow arm that never seemed to miscalculate its effects.
This is a program to catch if you can. Slatkin’s in town through March 22, and there’s likely to be a lot of competition for tickets: several people in the opening-night audience were already talking about coming back for another performance.
FEBRUARY 11, 2009
Review: Hilary Hahn, violinist, in recital with pianist Valentina Lisitsa. Benaroya Hall, Feb. 11.
By Melinda Bargreen
Fresh from her recent Grammy win, Hilary Hahn returned to Benaroya Hall Feb. 11 for a recital that also marked the exact 19th anniversary of her first violin recital – as she told a packed audience from the stage. Hahn was nine when she made that debut; she has spent the intervening years between then and now blazing an orbit through the concert world as one of the most remarkable young violinists of our time.
Hahn’s is a unique talent. If musicians can be said to lean toward either the Apollonian or the Dionysian (the poetic or the primal), Hahn is decidedly an Apollonian. She does not try to seduce her listeners with bravura gestures or dramatic choreography. Instead, she makes them come to her. Calm, self-possessed, beautiful, Hahn creates a sonic universe into which she inexorably draws the listener. On the most immediate level, you’re drawn by her fabulous technique – the impossibly brilliant and accurate fingerwork, and the bow arm that can refine sound the way pure gold can be drawn into the thinnest possible wire.
But there is more than just technique and control. At her best, Hahn offers deeply thoughtful interpretations of a wide range of repertoire, from Bach to Schoenberg and beyond. Even as a teenager, she could make you rethink your old assumptions about Bach. Now, Hahn is ranging far and wide through musical works of several eras, particularly 20th-century works that have not gotten their full due.
Programming is a very individual choice, and I would rather have heard Hahn in a slightly different program than the one she chose for the Seattle performance: three Charles Ives sonatas, three Eugene Ysaÿe pieces, seven Brahms Hungarian Dances, and Bartok’s Romanian Folk Dances (in the Szekely arrangement). It was a bit like a meal of hors d’oeuvres without a main course. For this listener, three Ives sonatas was about two Ives sonatas too many. These pieces have a certain charm, with their serene lines and sudden explosions of keyboard, but with the intermittent quotations of hymns and folktunes, they take on a pastiche-like quality. You can only have so many snippets of “Shall We Gather at the River” or “Jesus Loves Me” in a score before lapsing into a certain cynicism about Ives’ compositional techniques. Hahn and her pianist, Valentina Lisitsa, played the sonatas superbly (Hahn didn’t use scores, a feat of memory in these meandering and quirky works).
Each half of the program began with an unaccompanied Ysaÿe sonata, and that violin master set formidable tasks for his successors on the concert stage. The Sonata No. 6 in E Major poses particularly fierce challenges, all met by Hahn with the kind of ease that suggests a walk in the park. This was ear-boggling playing.
Lisitsa’s keyboard skills were particularly impressive in one of the least difficult of the scores, Ysaÿe’s tender little “Rêve d’enfant” (“Dream of the Child”), in which the piano sounded as soft as a dream.
The Bartok Romanian Dances brought down the house with Hahn’s fierce energy and almost uncannily accurate technique. It was playing to induce despair in rival violinists, and joy in audiences.
FEBRUARY 5, 2009
Review: The Seattle Symphony, with Gerard Schwarz and pianist Barry Douglas; Benaroya Hall, Feb. 5.
By Melinda Bargreen
Music lovers have long considered Seattle a town of keyboard fans, and the current Seattle Symphony program with Irish-born Barry Douglas is one to gladden the heart of the piano aficionado. Douglas, well known for his command of big virtuoso showpieces, is featured in the mighty Liszt Piano Concerto No. 1. And Douglas also offers an hors d’oeuvre of sorts, preceding the Liszt with Richard Strauss’ often-overlooked “Burleske”—an early work for piano and orchestra that has seldom sounded so substantial as it did in Thursday evening’s opening performance.
Douglas, whose 1986 Gold Medal at the Tchaikovsky International Piano Competition in Moscow launched his career into Sputnik-like orbit, is always an interesting pianist to hear. Yes, he has that fabulous technique that makes even a concerto like the Liszt sound easy, but Douglas is considerably more than a steel-fingered virtuoso who reminds you why the piano is classed as a percussion instrument. As he cavorts up and down the keyboard with blistering octaves and lightning-fast interval leaps, he also shapes a performance of considerable artistry and frequent surprises.
The flourishes in the “Burleske” were rendered with tremendous clarity, and the Liszt was never muddied or forced by too much volume. Usually “faster and louder” seems to be the mantra for pianists undertaking this repertoire; Douglas was more likely to vary his touch remarkably, sneaking in a surprisingly soft passage right where the listener is expecting a “ka-BOOM.”
Music director Gerard Schwarz was on the podium for this program, providing plenty of support for Douglas and spurring the orchestra on whenever he hit the accelerator. Schwarz surrounded the two piano-solo works with a mostly successful account of the lively, tricky Berlioz opener (“Béatrice et Bénédict” Overture), and the evening’s finale – Howard Hanson’s “Nordic” Symphony (No. 1).
Schwarz has become a major advocate of the works of Hanson over the past decades, both in the concert hall and the recording studio. The “Nordic” Symphony performance reflected a passionate commitment to this score, which (to these ears, at least) doesn’t really sound all that Nordic; it sounds cinematic, like the score of a hell-raising epic film about roistering Vikings. Possibly this is because Hanson’s colorful and tonal harmonic language, as emulated by his successors, survives today in its most widespread form as movie music. Hanson’s skill in orchestration pushes the instruments to the extremes of their compass; he may not be a master of understatement, but he knows how to use those instrumental colors.
It was a good night for many players, particularly the orchestra’s indefatigable and very subtle timpanist, Michael Crusoe. The program continues through Feb. 8 – a good bet for piano fans.
JANUARY 21, 2009
Review: San Francisco Symphony Orchestra, with Michael Tilson Thomas, conductor, and Garrick Ohlsson, piano soloist; Benaroya Hall, Jan. 21.
By Melinda Bargreen
Orchestra fans like to talk about the “Big Five” symphonies (Chicago, Cleveland, New York, Boston and Philadelphia), occasionally expanding that designation to the “Big Six” (with Los Angeles). But these days, maybe we need a “Big Seven” designation that would include the San Francisco Symphony, which knocked the audience’s socks off in a pair of concerts marking that orchestra’s first visit to Benaroya Hall.
Under the baton of music director Michael Tilson Thomas, the orchestra shone in a lineup of orchestral classics and a few new works. It’s clearly a band bursting with talent (including a transplanted Seattleite, the assistant principal cellist, Amos Yang). The string sound is big and vital; the winds are a collection of virtuosi, all of whom apparently are encouraged to play with their own highly distinctive character and timbre – broadening the spectrum of the orchestral palette.
The second program on Jan. 21 started out with Tilson Thomas’ own “Street Song for Symphonic Brass,” a reworking of an earlier piece for brass quintet. This expanded version for 13 players has a more orchestral feel, though it’s laid-back and not as assertive (or as exciting) as you might expect of an all-brass work.
The rest of the program was far from laid-back. First, there was a red-hot performance of the seldom-heard Prokofiev Piano Concerto No. 5, with soloist Garrick Ohlsson – one of those rare pianists who not only stays at the top of his game, but always has something fresh and new to show audiences. Prokofiev is usually represented on concerto outings by his Piano Concerto No. 3, and the Fifth shares a lot of its musical vocabulary, as well as posing tremendous technical challenges. Ohlsson somehow makes everything seem easy. I can’t think of another pianist who so completely owns the whole keyboard, able to tuck into that huge glossy Bösendorfer with Ohlsson’s brand of total mastery.
The well-worn Tchaikovsky Fifth Symphony was the program’s orchestral showpiece, and it was a good yardstick by which to gauge what Tilson Thomas can do with his orchestra. He’s an interesting figure on the podium: at times ungainly and marionette-like, at other times graceful and commanding. Conducting without a score, Tilson Thomas urged his players on to remarkable heights of both virtuosity and volume. He keeps the orchestra close; the musicians are gathered much nearer to the podium than usual, and they are clearly responsive to their maestro. Missteps were remarkably few; solo work was lovely, with a clarinet softer than cashmere, and a solo bassoon full of expressive personality. To call the audience ecstatic would be a substantial understatement.
JANUARY 10, 2009
Review: Seattle Opera’s “The Pearl Fishers,” Jan. 10 (through Jan. 24).
By Melinda Bargreen
When a composer has produced a work as popular, and as nearly perfect, as “Carmen,” it’s perhaps inevitable that the rest of his output may suffer by comparison. Bizet’s earlier opera, “The Pearl Fishers” – composed when he was only 24 – does indeed lack a lot of what makes “Carmen” click. But in an imaginative and thoughtful production, “The Pearl Fishers” can demonstrate some pearls of operatic beauty, as it does in Seattle Opera’s current production.
It helps to have a young, good-looking, vocally adept cast in the three principal roles. Like so many operas, this one is a classic love triangle, in which buddies Zurga and Nadir have fallen out (then reconciled, then fallen out again) over the beautiful priestess Leila. The opening night cast for Seattle Opera’s production featured tenor William Burden, who always makes a brilliant impression here, as Nadir; Christopher Feigum, a strong baritone and fine actor, as Zurga; and the soaring soprano Mary Dunleavy, making her Seattle Opera debut in the role of Leila. Patrick Carfizzi also was effective in the supporting role of Nourabad, the high priest.
This production, conducted by Gerard Schwarz and directed by Kay Walker Castaldo, may well take the award for the least-clothed cast in company history. Costume designer Richard St. Clair left nearly all the men shirtless, while Dunleavy was given a low-cut, strapless prom gown that often seemed in imminent danger of descending. Opera glasses were in more frequent use than usual.
It’s fair to call “The Pearl Fishers” a problematic opera. A lot of the music is pleasant, but not exactly gripping, and it’s no accident that you rarely hear arias from this work used as audition pieces. Instead, it’s a tenor-baritone duet that’s the big deal in this score: “Au fond du temple saint,” a duet so good that it gets reprised in the final scene (and is performed regularly on its own, on the concert stage). The lack of “big moment” pieces in the score can result in a rather languid atmosphere, punctuated by storms and crises but not by Bizet’s usual rich supply of great tunes.
Castaldo anticipated this difficulty by keeping everyone extremely busy. So many villagers, pearl fishers, dancers and choristers were clustered on that beach in Act I that not even Cozumel at the height of “Spring Break” could compete for sheer frenzied action. (There’s lots of very acrobatic, athletic dance in this show, choreographed by Peggy Hickey.) The principal singers get into the action, too, with a remarkable fight scene between Zurga and Nadir.
The production also makes effective use of scrims and drapes, cannily lit by Neil Peter Jampolis to give some spectacular underwater and storm effects in Boyd Ostroff’s sets (originally designed for the Philadelphia Opera).
The principal singers were well matched, each taking essentially a lyrical approach to the score – an approach seconded and supported by Schwarz and the orchestra. On opening night, the three principals got steadily stronger as the show went forward; Dunleavy had some tentative moments early on, but the voice was more stable and more musically interesting in the later acts. Impassioned acting, including an incendiary love scene, added substantially to the production’s impact.
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