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Jennifer Koh played elegantly at Carnegie.
Celebrations Players Collaborate at the Century’s Close On New York’s concert stages, the 20th century eased into the 21st with warm familial feelings rather than fireworks, as well as a sense of reverence, since the year 2000 marks the 250th anniversary of Johann Sebastian Bach’s death and the 100th of Aaron Copland’s birth. Both composers are being remembered with programs of their works throughout the season. The Bach celebration, which will last well into the spring, got off to a rousing start with a performance of four Cantatas from the Christmas Oratorio by the Amsterdam Baroque Orchestra and Choir under Ton Koopman, founder and director. Though dwarfed by Avery Fisher Hall, the playing and singing were extremely good, except for the thin flute sound and problematic wind intonation; concertmistress Margaret Faultless and continuo cellist Jonathan Manson both contributed excellent solos. Standing out among the vocal soloists was the renowned countertenor Andreas Scholl, who cast a special glow over this fine performance of a glorious piece, with its exultant choruses and intimate, devout arias. (My favorite is an echo-song between two sopranos and two oboes that is pure magic.) The New York Philharmonic then presented a three-week Completely Copland Festival, displaying his works in many genres and idioms, and for many vocal and instrumental combinations. I heard the first program, which offered a cross section of his orchestral music. The Symphonic Ode, commissioned by the Boston Symphony for its 50th anniversary in 1932 and revised 25 years later, is appropriately grand and festive. It opens with a proclamatory brass fanfare and is full of Copland’s characteristic dissonances and tempo and meter changes. The young Peruvian conductor Miguel Harth-Bedoya led an excellent performance; Kurt Masur took over for the rest of the program. Stanley Drucker, the Philharmonic’s principal clarinetist, played the mildly jazzy Clarinet Concerto, written for Benny Goodman in 1950. Drucker, who celebrated his 50th anniversary with the orchestra two years ago, having joined it when he was 19, has long been associated with the piece. He brought out all the different moods and colors but made the transitions between the sections smooth and natural. Inscape, Copland’s last orchestral work, was written in 1967 for the New York Philharmonic’s 125th anniversary. In explanation of the title, Copland called it "music that seems to move inward upon itself." The piece alternates harsh, explosive passages with gentle, peaceful ones; it hints at its indebtedness, though not its adherence, to 12-tone technique by beginning with a crashing 11-note chord that Copland is said to have loved and that he brings back several times, letting it fade away at the end. Four Dance Episodes from the ballet Rodeo were grand fun; it was delightful to watch those staid violinists grin as they scraped away like country fiddlers, and to see the players smile at the wind soloists’ jazz riffs. Perhaps to ring in the new millennium and bid farewell to the old, 20th-century music has been particularly prominent on concert programs. The Chamber Music Society of Lincoln Center is presenting several thematic programs of works by European and American composers under the heading "Musical Evolutions II." The series opened with a recital by violinist Joshua Bell and pianist Frederic Chiu that paid homage to Copland with his Sonata and included Prokofiev’s Sonata No. 1, Bartók’s First Rhapsody, and the Ravel Sonata (which had been substituted for Heifetz’ transcription of the three Gershwin Preludes). However, Bell announced that since Ravel and Gershwin admired and influenced each other, both belonged on the program, so he would play the Preludes and the Sonata—and the sellout audience certainly did not object to this bonus. The playing throughout was superb. In this international program, the performers brought out each work’s native idiom wonderfully: the "Blues" movement in the Ravel has never sounded so natural and simply right. Bell’s tone was expressive and beautiful, soaring radiantly in the slow movement of the Prokofiev and glowing warmly on the low strings. His virtuosity and involvement were thrilling, as always. Violinist Mark Steinberg and pianist Thomas Sauer gave two concerts of 20th-century music at Mannes College, offering a fascinating perspective on the changing styles of the last 100 years. The first program, featuring music written between 1910 and 1989, proved that earlier works can sound far more "modern" than later ones. Debussy’s Sonata (1917) and Szymanowski’s Narcissus (1915) both revel in impressionist colors and sonorities, though the former laces its languor with witty grotesquerie, while the latter is all sensuousness and romantic effusion. Bartók’s less-familiar Second Sonata (1922) could have been written decades later; dense, complex, and dissonant, it combines elements of folk music with high sophistication. Lutoslawski’s Partita (1984), in five contrasting movements, is an arresting but accessible piece, with two half-improvised sections and a beautiful, singing slow movement featuring a soaring violin line. The program’s most "modern" works were the latest and the earliest. Sebastian Currier’s Clockwork (1989) begins and ends with sections where the two instruments produce drip-like sounds alternately and together, framing one running and one singing movement. Webern’s tiny, pointillistic Four Pieces, Op. 7 (1910), are widely admired but remain a mystery to me. The performances were terrific, the Lutoslawski perhaps most impressive; the Debussy was a bit excessive. Sauer is a superb pianist and Steinberg has a splendid technique and a beautiful, expressive tone. His visual mannerisms are distracting, but his concentration, intensity, and strong response to the music are riveting. Bernard Zinck, a young French violinist now in residence at the University of New Mexico, also included the Debussy Sonata on his all-French program at St. Peter’s Church, which I heard at a dress rehearsal. He is a fine player with a solid technique, a lovely tone, and a genuine feeling for the music, although, surprisingly, his playing projected none of the idiomatic flavor generally associated with the French style. His approach was basically lyrical, his tempos leisurely and deliberate; a bit more contrast of color, mood, and character would have been welcome. The program included Milhaud’s unfamiliar Sonata No. 2, a substantial, effective, four-movement work, and the Franck and Ravel Sonatas. May Phang was the supportive pianist. Violinist Kurt Nikkanen played a program of Spanish and Latin-American dances at the Walter Reade Theater that, on paper, looked like a collection of empty bravura pieces, but in fact was a total delight. It included original compositions by Sarasate, Surinach, and Villa-Lobos, as well as transcriptions of pieces by, among others, de Falla, Ravel, and Milhaud, and the Tango from Kurt Weill’s Threepenny Opera. The program was cannily chosen for contrast and variety, the arrangements were never cheap or corny, and the playing was absolutely superb. Nikkanen has a wonderfully natural, unostentatious virtuosity, a lovely, adaptable tone, and great charm; he took the music completely seriously but captured its essentially light, ingratiating character perfectly. Where this American violinist with the Finnish name got his affinity for the idiomatic rhythms of this style is a mystery. Robert Koenig, a wonderful pianist, provided leadership and rock-steady but supple rhythmic support. Two violinists hosted concerts proving that families who play together stay together. Arnold Steinhardt of the Guarneri Quartet presented "A Family Affair" at the Kosciusko Foundation with his daughter Natasha, a very talented soprano, and his brother Victor, a distinguished pianist and composer. The generous, primarily lightweight program featured songs in several languages, some with violin obbligato, including a Mozart aria, two Rachmaninov songs, Strauss’ "Morgen," a fun song called "Touch of the Master’s Hand" by Sammy Fain, and Massenet’s Elégie for an encore. Arnold Steinhardt played the tuneful, partly jazzy Three American Pieces by a very young Lukas Foss, three pieces by Amy Beach that would not be out of place in a cocktail bar, and three Spanish dances written for Steinhardt: a Rumba by Lincoln Mayorga, a Tango by Dave Grusin that he described as a cross between Piazzola and James Bond, and an affecting, profoundly sad Tango by his brother, the evening’s splendid, hardworking pianist. Steinhardt displayed his usual beautiful tone and noble expressiveness, but also unusual abandon and a great sense of fun. He beamed with pride while listening to his daughter but accompanied her almost too discreetly; his rapport with his brother showed that they had begun to play together as children. Yoko Takebe, a violinist in the New York Philharmonic, presented a mostly family concert called "Yoko and Friends" at Weill Recital Hall. Her partners were her husband, Michael Gilbert, also a Philharmonic violinist, on viola; her daughter, violinist Jennifer Gilbert; her son, violist and conductor Alan Gilbert; cellists Alan Stepansky and Gerald Appleman, former Philharmonic colleagues; and violinists David Kim and Scott Yoo. The program was beautiful and quite ambitious: Wolf’s Italian Serenade, Brahms’ Sextet, Op. 36, and Mendelssohn’s Octet, Op. 20, a sort of "Farewell" Symphony in reverse. With Takebe leading the first two works, the terribly difficult, transparent Serenade seemed least comfortable and needed more sparkle and ironic humor. The Brahms, with its more massive texture, sounded rich and full and had lots of romantic sweep and ardor; in the Mendelssohn, the combined sonority sometimes had an almost orchestral glow. Jennifer Gilbert, on first violin, played brilliantly, and the performance had all the youthful exuberance and abandon the 16-year-old composer could have wished for. Throughout, Stepansky on first cello was a pillar of strength; the warm atmosphere and sense of rapport and mutual appreciation made up for what the playing inevitably lacked in ultimate ensemble finesse. The Festival Chamber Music Society continued its successful series at Merkin Hall before a packed house with one of its best concerts. The program featured clarinetist Charles Neidich, a "returning guest," who joined cellist/director Ruth Sommers, pianist David Oei, violist Toby Hoffman, and violinists Calvin Wiersma and Eriko Sato in three staples of the clarinet literature. Neidich is a fabulous virtuoso with a wonderfully expressive, varied tone, but what makes his playing extraordinary are his daring and imagination, combined with meticulous attention to the score. Prokofiev’s "Overture on Hebrew Themes" was an idiomatically inflected, swaying, rocking Jewish dance; Schumann’s Fairy Tales, Op. 132, were poetic tone paintings, and Weber’s Quintet was a whirlwind of virtuosity, operatic in its rhythmic freedom, color, and abandon. His partners supported him all the way, smiling with enjoyment and admiration. The program closed with a fine performance of the Brahms Piano Quintet. The chamber-music season included an unusual number of piano trios. The Amelia Trio, a very good, extremely serious young group formed in 1998, appeared at Weill Hall on the Alexander Schneider Young Artist Series. The players’ technique, intonation, ensemble, and balance are excellent, although as usual the piano was often too loud. They are very active physically; their playing is efficient but somewhat driven and unyielding, and it has an unremitting, high-voltage intensity that generates heat but no warmth. This was most detrimental to a great late Haydn Trio, which lacked inward expressiveness and was accented, aggressive, and angular. However, in Brahms’ Trio, Op. 101, the players’ austere, intense approach worked well; they brought out the dramatic tension, though the spooky Scherzo could have been more shadowy and secretive. Ellen Taaffe Zwilich’s Trio, alternately energetic and lyrical, was played with authority and conviction. The group is remarkable in that its violinist, Anthea Kreston, is also the violist of the Avalon String Quartet. The Kim-Jacobson-Arron Trio is also very good, but its style is very different: warm, inward, expansive, and very expressive. It was formed in 1990, when the members were in their early teens but had already been playing together for several years. No wonder they operate on the same wavelength, trading phrases with fraternal rapport and building them into a seamless whole, knowing exactly when to lead and when to support. In a long, demanding program at the Metropolitan Museum, pianist Albert Kim played brilliantly but never dominated the ensemble; only a few big chords were too loud. Violinist Colin Jacobson and cellist Edward Arron both sounded warm and beautiful, but the latter occasionally got overpowered because he does not always sustain his tone. Beethoven’s "Kakadu" Variations, Op. 121A, were dramatic, expressive, and humorous; Kirchner’s Trio No. 1 had the musicians playing at, more than with, one another. The program began and ended with Schubert: the charming "Sonatensatz," D. 28, and the great E-Flat Trio, D. 929. In a moving and impressive performance, the players brought out its contrasting moods, resigned inwardness, and tragic depth; the slow movement was a somber funeral march, the Scherzo wistful and gracious. The two long corner movements held together admirably. In the Finale, the players surprised the audience by restoring Schubert’s cuts, and Kim seemed to surprise even his partners by taking the repeat. More young players were featured in a new Young Concert Artists series at Weill Hall called "YCA Encores," in which recent winners of YCA’s International Auditions are presented in chamber-music programs to showcase another side of their talent. At the inaugural concert, Finnish cellist Jan-Erik Gustasfson, Russian violinist Anton Barachovsky, and American pianist Wendy Chen displayed total mastery of their instruments and a fine ensemble spirit; the string players’ tone was beautiful and adaptable, and the pianist controlled her sound admirably despite the wide-open piano. In the Handel-Halvorsen Passacaglia for violin and cello, the playing was brilliant but emphasized the interplay between the instruments rather than the competition between the performers. Rachmaninov’s Cello Sonata was terrific—expressive and involved but never sentimental. The cello tone was warm and powerful; the pianist saved her virtuosity and abandon for the solo passages. In Mendelssohn’s Trio No. 2, Barachovsky, clearly the least-experienced chamber musician of the three, lacked the confidence of a true leader; like many soloists afraid of sounding too assertive, he often underplayed his supporting passages. However, when he played out, his tone soared, especially in the triumphant ending. The first and last movements came off best—the Scherzo whizzed by at top speed and the slow movement seemed a bit unsettled, but Barachovsky and Gustafsson built up their answering phrases with wonderfully organic continuity. At the second, similarly designed "Encore," Japanese violinist Yayoi Toda and Polish cellist Rafal Kwiatkowski were joined by guest-artist pianist Christopher O’Riley, winner of the 1981 auditions. Kodály’s Duo for Violin and Cello, Op. 7, a somewhat discursive piece full of Hungarian and Gypsy folk elements, gave the players ample chance to display their instruments’ timbres and their own technical and tonal resources. It was performed with brilliance and idiomatic feeling. Toda, a somewhat aggressive player, has a powerful tone that, because of a constantly fast, intense vibrato, lacks variety and nuance, while Kwiatkowski’s tone was warm and austere, his style predominantly lyrical. In Shostakovich’s Trio, Op. 67, the three players brought out the swift, often violent mood swings very well; not surprisingly, Kwiatkowski seemed to have the strongest affinity for the style. He negotiated the opening’s treacherous harmonics admirably, but their glassy, unearthly sound was undercut by Toda’s fully vibrated entrance. The performance was excellent; the unrestrained technical and emotional abandon necessary to fully project its heartbreaking melancholy and diabolical grotesquerie requires long collaboration and repeated performances. In between, Toda played Bach’s Chaconne from the D-Minor Partita, a stylistic incongruity and, indeed, a miscalculation. Her tone remained intense, her style extroverted and instrument-oriented; she seemed unaware of the work’s monumental formal and harmonic structure and of the four-part voice leading on which it is built. The Chamber Music Society of Lincoln Center invited the Golub-Kaplan-Carr Trio and soprano Ying Huang, who joined the trio in some Haydn folk-song arrangements. The program featured Brahms’ Trio, Op. 101, and a trio by the English composer Nicholas Maw, who now lives near New York and was present. Cast along almost Classical lines in two pairs of connected movements, his Trio is dissonant but tonal, quite melodious, and very effective for all instruments. The piano begins with a long flowing melody in widely spaced octaves, which is later developed in various rhythmic and instrumental combinations. This leads into a spooky, running Scherzo. The long Grave is inspired by the slow movement of Brahms’ Trio, Op. 8, in form and texture, but the harmonies are transformed so as to induce a sensation akin to seeing a familiar face in a distorting mirror. The work ends with a triumphant, soaring melody in D major. The performance was splendid, authoritative, and expressive. In the Brahms, the players underlined the dramatic austerity with some very fast tempos but undercut it with a lot of slides. In the slow movement, they paused between the meter changes, creating a feeling of question-and-answer, but also breaking up the music. Interestingly enough, Brahms’ massive piano writing posed the same balance problems for these seasoned players as for the young Amelia Trio a week earlier. The wel-known Kalichstein-Laredo-Robinson Trio, resident at the 92nd Street Y, invited Pinchas Zukerman to play viola in Mozart’s First and Dvorák’s Second Piano Quartets, flanking the Ravel Trio. Here, too, the piano was often too loud, though Joseph Kalichstein can also produce wonderfully delicate, feathery textures. The players are all very good and know exactly what they want, but they are so concerned with projecting it that their expressiveness never seems spontaneous or inwardly felt, and they often overdo and exaggerate phrasing, dynamics, and rubatos that should merely be suggested. Their invariably rich, intense tone and vibrato are best suited to lush, romantic music, so the Dvorák was most convincing. Zukerman added a lot of fire and excitement and sounded terrific. The Orion String Quartet continued its concert series at the Mannes School with Beethoven’s Quartet, Op. 18, No. 6; Kirchner’s Quartet No. 2, an ingratiating piece in three contrasting movements performed without a break; and Mozart’s "Dissonant" Quartet, K. 465. As always, the playing was beautiful, warm, impeccably phrased and balanced, and very expressive. Most performers play Mozart at the beginning of a program, before they are warmed up and comfortable, so reversing the order was an inspired idea and produced a superb performance: brilliant, controlled but not cautious, with perfectly poised, organic liberties and a natural, easy flow. In the slow movement’s second theme, they played the supposedly inauthentic, usually omitted upper voice very softly at first, like a shadow, then let it blossom into the suspension. In the most recent program of its Metropolitan Museum series, the Guarneri Quartet paired two unfamiliar quartets: Schumann’s No. 2, played with great romantic warmth and admirable control of the tricky, syncopated rhythms, and the Quartet, Op. 44, No. 3, by Mendelssohn, the group’s featured composer this season. It is a dark, dramatic piece with a fleet, unearthly Scherzo, a lovely slow movement, and a brilliant Finale that keeps the first violin running a marathon while the others sing. However, all four parts demand both soloistic assertiveness and ensemble sensitivity; rising to every challenge, the Guarneri gave a thrilling performance. The concert opened with Haydn’s famous Op. 77, No. 1, led by John Dalley with great spirit and expressiveness. The New York String Orchestra, founded in 1969 by Alexander Schneider and now conducted by Jaime Laredo, is a group of conservatory, college, and high-school students who spend their Christmas vacation in New York, studying string quartets and preparing two Carnegie Hall concerts. This season, the second one featured two strikingly talented young soloists: violinist Jennifer Koh and pianist Jonathan Biss. Koh played Mozart’s Concerto No. 5 with technical ease, a lovely, smooth tone, and great elegance, but the sunny, naturally flowing phrases often sounded like emphatic statements. In Mendelssohn’s Concerto No. 1, 19-year-old Biss displayed enormous speed and brilliance and projected just the right impetuosity but also a lot of nervous tension; however, the lyrical parts were beautiful and expressive. The young orchestra players did very well; the concert was in tribute to the late violinist Felix Galimir and his longtime support of the group. Perhaps also in honor of the holiday season, the Philharmonic programmed the second act of that perennial Christmas favorite, Tchaikovsky’s Nutcracker, oddly enough coinciding with the New York City Ballet’s annual presentation of it across the Plaza. It was great to hear this magical score performed by a first-rate orchestra, with its wonderful wind soloists, glowing cellos, and scintillating harp cascades, and to see those enthusiastic percussionists in action. André Previn conducted with a minimum of fuss, letting the soloists have lots of freedom, giving the dances lilt and character, and making a persuasive case for Tchaikovsky as the second Waltz King. The program began with a lovely performance of Mozart’s Piano Concerto K. 467 by Alicia De Larrocha. The season’s most generous program was presented by the Met Orchestra at Carnegie Hall under James Levine. It went on for almost three hours, though the orchestra had played two operas the day before and was scheduled to play Wagner’s Tristan und Isolde, which lasts more than five hours, the day after. Nevertheless, in a colorful Impressionist program that displayed every section’s virtuosity and a huge range of orchestral effects, the musicians played wonderfully, with commitment and heartfelt enthusiasm. Schoenberg’s Verklärte Nacht sounded gorgeous but transparent, though the orchestral version lacks the balance of the sextet; Deborah Hoffman, principal harpist, was the fine soloist in Debussy’s Danse sacrée et profane. Messiaen’s music is an acquired taste; his Et exspecto resurrectionem mortuorum was very long, static, devout, and full of sustained chords, silences, and startling percussion effects. The program also featured the Met’s golden-voiced Russian mezzo-soprano, Olga Borodina, who made Ravel’s Shéhérazade sensuous and oriental, and Berlioz’ tragic La Mort de Cléopâtre deeply moving. It was one of 1999’s most memorable concerts. —Edith Eisler
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