Heights Arts Close Encounters: Salute to the Cleveland Quartet

Bartok: Selections from 44 Duos for Two Violins, Sz. 98, BB 104¹²
Dvorak: Piano Quartet in E-flat Major, Op. 87³ª°^
Brahms: Sextet for 2 Violins, 2 Violas, and 2 Cellos in G-Major, Op. 87¹*ª°`
¹-Donald Weilerstein, violin; ²-Peter Salaff, violin; ³-Mari Sato, violin; ª-Kirsten Docter, viola; °-Merry Peckham, cello; ^-Vivian Weilerstein, Piano; *- Isabel Trautwein, violin; `- Tanya Ell, cello.
At the Dunham Tavern Museum Barn, Cleveland.

This afternoon's concert was special -- bringing back together the Peter Salaff and Donald Weilerstein, the original violinists of the renown Cleveland Quartet, along with members of protégé the Cavani Quartet and other students. Even I, generally blissfully unaware of "names", was aware of the duo's significance.

The concert opened with Messers Weilierstein and Salaff providing an appetizer plate of fourteen of Bartok's 44 Duos for Two Violins, each bite-size and relatively fast, and each one had a very different feeling. While the two musicians have been separated for many years, they played as if they have never parted ways. The only downside to having so many short pieces was that you couldn't really fully immerse yourself in a piece before it was over and on to the next piece.

Dvorak's Piano Quartet was next on the program, and the body heat from a sold-out barn combined with the relaxing and faultless music made closing ones eyes to just enjoy the sounds a potentially dangerous endeavor. I'm generally a fan of Dvorak, and though this piece didn't, to me, have the texture to the extremes as say his From the New World, it was still very enjoyable, with Rachel noting that the second movement gave her goosebumps, and generally both of us very much appreciating Ms. Weilerstein's work at the piano.

The third, final, an most substantial piece on the program was Brahms's Sextet, once again impeccably executed. Rachel and I both noted the "front and center" nature of the cellos which, while anchoring the piece and giving it a full body, and not merely lurking as the foundation for the other instruments. Throughout the piece the musicians were clearly enjoying their playing, and I think the relaxed-but-precise feeling, the opposite of the tense/restrained feeling I got from last night's Orchestra concert, though the fourth movement was my favorite by a narrow margin.

As we were walking out Rachel mentioned "I think this was the best one yet" -- and as a matter of fact, I think she may be right.

The next an last concert in this season, Schubertiade with the Omni Quartet is on Saturday, May 11th at 8pm -- for tickets call 216.371.3457 or visit http://www.heightsarts.org/music.php.

Lincoln
(Disclosure: I serve on the board of Heights Arts)

Cleveland Orchestra: Alan Gilbert conducts Mahler's Seventh

Ravel: Mother Goose [Ma Mere l'Oye] (complete ballet music)
Mahler: Symphony No. 7
Alan Gilbert, Conductor (replacing the previously announced Pierre Boulez).

I'm rather tense this week -- I have confirmed week-long trips to Phoenix and Northern California in the next six or so weeks and an almost certain trip to Vancouver (the one in Canada) somewhere between those two, with its own set of questions [I've not yet utilized the passport collecting dust on my desk for the past 4 years]. Thus, while I was intrigued by this week's concert I was never really able to relax enough to really get into the music.

Alan Gilbert, music director of the New York Philharmonic and former Cleveland Orchestra assistant conductor substituted for the originally programmed Pierre Boulez. For the second year in a row, Mr. Boulez withdrew from the program on medical advice -- and despite several months notice in this case, I still walked into a patron berating a hapless usher about the substitution during intermission who was doing her best to diplomatically disengage.

One of the reasons I was intrigued by the concert is a recurring rumor in a few of the circles I keep my ear to is that Mr. Gilbert may be on the short list considered upon the expiration Franz Welser-Most's contract after the 2017-18 season.

Anyway, back to the music: I generally like music from ballets due to the inherent motion of dance -- after all, some of my favorite pieces that I've yet to hear the Cleveland Orchestra play (e.g. Appalachian Spring, Billy the Kid) came from ballets. Tonight's performance of the complete ballet music to Ravel's Mother Goose, though, seemed nearly as tense as I was for the first five movements. Things opened up for the sixth movement (Laideronette, Empress of the Pagodas) which had a delightful and impossible to miss Asian flair, and the final movement (The Enchanted Garden) with beautiful solo violin work and a climatic ending.

I had hoped that the more relaxed air would carry forward to the Mahler, however that did not seem to be the case. The first movement was seemingly eternal, lonely, dark and depressing. The second movement lightened the mood a bit with a fluttering sense and uncharacteristic clanking metal, as if a hubcap falling off a well-worn car, it did not evoke a feeling of "Night Music".

The death grip of tension loosened a bit in the third movement which played out exactly as per the tempo notation found in the program -- "Shadowy, Vaguely, Flowing buy not fast". Likewise, the fourth movement had an enchanting air and, as Night Music II, had more of a sense of being night music than it's predecessor. Contributing to the enchanting air -- and a sound I couldn't pinpoint at first -- were a guitar and ukulele hidden amongst the violins.

Lincoln

Column and Stripe/NYC - The Armory Show [Cleveland Museum of Art]

As many regular readers (or those who pay attention to the "Disclosures" bar off to the right [your other right]) know, I'm involved in Column and Stripe: The New Friends of the Cleveland Museum of Art. Unfortunately travel demands of my real job haven't been conducive to attending all of the great events that our Programming Committee organizes.

Exterior of Pier 92 from Across 12 Ave.

Thanks to a last minute change in schedules for one of my big projects, and a United Fare Sale that made Cleveland to New York a $161 round drip flight (and cashing in some of my Hilton HHonors points for a few nights in one of my favorite hotels -- the Hilton Times Square) I was able to join a group of Column and Stripers 400 miles from home at New York City's Armory Show.

C&S Attendees; Mark Cole center background.

Mark Cole, Cleveland Museum of Art's Associate Curator of American Painting and Sculpture (until 1960) was in New York as well and graciously guided us through Pier 92's Modern Art.

Mr. Cole not only introduced us to some of the dealers who he knows, but also pointed out artists with Cleveland connections and artists who he thinks are significant and would like to see added to the museum's collection to complete the story (he remained mum as to specific works).

After our overview fly-by the group splintered and attacked the show in greater detail. The show which brings together leading art dealers from around the globe and concentrates them on two of the piers of Manhattan's West Side is a little overwhelming. ("Modern" is on pier 92, "Contemporary" is on pier 94)

One aisle of dealers at Pier 94

Although the show is made up of dealers (after all, unlike a museum, the goal here is to sell art), it is curated -- the dealers have to present a proposal months in advance, and from what I understand the cost of exhibiting can push into the high five-figures, so the quality of art is very high across the board. So are the prices -- many, though not all, of the exhibitors have prices listed on the label accompanying each piece, with prices I noticed ranging from about $2,500 to upwards of $370,000 and spanning from the technically simple to the obscenely complex.

It was a wonderful opportunity to enjoy art outside of Cleveland with similarly interested young Clevelanders, and hopefully this will be the first of many trips -- and that Rachel's work schedule will allow her to join in the next trip.

[By the way, any of the pictures should be clickable for a larger version if you so desire]

Lincoln

Cleveland Orchestra: Dohnanyi Conducts Mahler:s First

Henze: Adagio, Fugue, and Dance of the Maenads from the opera The Bassarids
Mahler: Symphony No. 1 ("Titan")
Christoph von Dohnanyi, conductor

There are some conductors that you can tell an orchestra distrusts and only puts on the mildist pretense of following, there are other conductors that the orchestra follows -- if sometimes only grudgingly. The last group of Conductors are those who seem to be one with the orchestra with whom they are working. Mr. von Dohnanyi is clearly in the later category.

Just as clearly The Cleveland Orchestra and von Dohnanyi have a special relationship.

Although the suite from the opera The Bassarids was interesting in parts, it didn't really hold my attention or captivate strong imagery. The staging for both pieces on tonight's program was rather unusual --1st and 2nd violins flanking the conductor, cellos and violas in the outfield, basses house left, harps and keys house  right -- and the difference in the layering of the sounds was interesting (and I will say I could get used to it).

The main course on tonight's program was Mahler's Symphony No. 1, and each of the four movements had a distinct personality -- and Mr. von Dohnanyi provided that personality entirely from memory. The first movement began softly and with bugle calls in the far distance -- my sense was as if approaching a distant gathering and as the movement progressed the listener comes close to the gathering.

In the second movement, we hear two dances, the somewhat fast and loose -- adolescent, if you will -- waltz with hints of the first movement sounds, which gives way to the more dignified and loving slower second dance. The third movement continues the serious tone with a beautifully vivid dirgeish-solo bass over slight tympani. The finale begins with a cymbal crash and after crossing stormy water, triumpahnt horns return order the piece.

Lincoln

Magical Cleveland Orchestra: Dvorak's New World Symphony

Mozart: Symphony No. 40 in G minor, K.550
Dvorak: Symphony No. 9 ("From the New World") in E minor, op. 95
Encore: Dvorak Slavonic Dances
Herbert Blomstedt, conductor.



From my seat: Following the encore.

A few months ago, I took part in an interview session sponsored by Cleveland Foundation. One of the questions was "What makes the perfect concert?" It's a feeling -- an ever-so-rare feeling -- not unlike love: Your pulse quickens, time seems to stand still, and the not only does the world outside the hall cease to matter, it effectively ceases to exist. For me, it's about one concert a season. In a great season. With one of the world's best Orchestras. But it is also the concert that makes those that fall at the other end of the spectrum so worthwhile.

Tonight was that perfect concert.

As I sat overlooking the house from my perch in box 3, I couldn't help but to note the unusually lively atmosphere in a sold-out Severance hall. For a few moments one may have had the impression they had walked into an opulent sporting arena. For as boisterous as the house was before the music started, it was dead silent while the orchestra was in action.

Far from the manic convulsions associated with the conducting trade, Mr. Blomstedt is generally subtle; for the most part, if he were conducting w

Mr. Blomstedt is a generally subtle conductor. Far from the manic convulsions typically associated with the trade, if you removed the orchestra from his audience passersby may think it just a slight tick. The effect is that when expansive language draws out that much energy from the orchestra.

The Mozart was simply a piece of abstract beauty -- from the famous opening of the first movement to the more settled second and the precise surges of energy at the transition from the third to fourth movements.

For the abstraction in the Mozart, the imagery of Dvorak's Symphony No. 9, From the New World is crystal clear. That piece is my favorite from the pre-1900 repertoire, and perhaps one I've heard most often. Tonight's rendition, however exposed subtleties in the piece I can't recall having heard in any of the live -- or recorded -- performances I've heard to date. Hearing the piece and the pulse that weaves its way through I imagine the American frontiers of the late 1800s and those of the populations who's native sounds are captured in the piece.

While listening to From the New World -- one of my favorite orchestral pieces -- I can't help but to imagine the setting of Frederic Edwin Church's Twilight in the Wilderness, painted only a few decades before Dvorak composed his musical postcard and one of my favorite pieces in the Cleveland Museum of Art's Collection  -- both invoke very similar feelings.

But if you weren't at this weekend's concerts (plus a matinee tomorrow) you missed a magical concert with a fantastic ensemble.

Lincoln

Cleveland Orchestra: Herbert Blomstedt Conducts Beethoven's Seventh

Nielsen: Symphony No. 3 ("Sinfonia expansiva") (Ellie Dehn, soprano; Michael Kelly, baritone)
Beethoven: Symphony No. 7 in A major l, Op. 92
Herbert Blomstedt, conductor

[I have to note that next Weekend, the Cleveland Orchestra is performing Dvorak's From the New World -- one of my favorite pieces in the orchestral repertoire]

Even before Cellist Tanya Ell presented Mr. Blomstedt with a bouquet during the ending ovations, it was clear that this Orchestra and Mr. Blomstedt share a special bond.

While Beethoven's seventh symphony was faultless and delightful to listen to, I didn't feel as effortlessly drawn to it as Carl Nielsen's Symphony No. 3 which opened the program.

That piece, last played by the Orchestra two months before I was born in 1984 (29 years ago if you don't want to do the math), is the kind that makes you wonder why it isn't played more often. This was also one of the rare pieces where the Orchestra's musicians traditionally stoic expressions gave way to a palpable sense of enjoyment while playing the Sinfonia Espansiva.

The Sinfonia was an ever-changing array of emotions and ear-catching sounds: The first movement packs a conclusion that literally hit me in the chest. The second packed off-stage vocals, sounding far off and almost ephemeral in a chant without words pared with pastoral strings and what could be called "happy chirps" from the back of the orchestra (this was my favorite movement from the evening because of how ethereal the sum of the parts became). The third movement is a bit on the depressing side, being more solemn and almost bitten out, but that despair gives way. The fourth movement has the sound of an anthem with some nationalistic undertones.

Hopefully, it won't be another 30 years before the Cleveland Orchestra performs this piece a fourth time. (And while I'm putting in requests-- Copland's Appalachian Spring, please?)

Lincoln

Cleveland Orchestra: Prokofiev's Sixth Symphony

Rachmaninoff: The Isle of the Dead, Op. 29
Rota: Trombone Concerto (Massimo La Rosa, trombone)
Prokofiev: Symphony No. 6 in E-flat minor, Op. 111
Gianandrea Noseda, Conductor

After a run of full houses, it was a little surprising how noticeably sparse attendance at this, the first concert back from the Florida residency, was despite an admirable job of dressing the house*. I was also surprised at the rather lukewarm reception the program received; while it won't go down in the annals with particular note, there was nothing not to like.

Rachmaninoff's The Isle of  the Dead was a haunting march toward a darkness with a texture that captivated me while simultaneously dreading and wondering what that march would arrive at. About half way through the piece there was a strange harmonic that sounded like someone was engaged in a heated -- if muffled -- monologue outside the hall; the darkness parts briefly with hints of a blue sky.

The composer of the second piece on the program, Nino Rota, doesn't have the name recognition as some of his work -- the score for The Godfather II and the 1968 Romeo and Juliet love theme, and the trombone isn't the most popular concerto choice. Seeing thos piece on the program, and tending to think of the trombone as a rather harsh and blaring instrument (think the "adult" voices in Charlie Brown Christmas), I was a bit apprehensive. Putting that apprehension to rest, Massimo La Rosa's deft navigation of the piece finely illustrated how versatile the trombone can be. The second movement struck me as a tender waltz with the trombone a lover nuzzled in their partner's neck while taking the lead. For a total contrast the third movement, was light and airy, bouncy and toe tapping, like the freedom of a spring weekend day.

Closing out the program, Prokofiev's Symphony No. 6 didn't evoke particularly vivid imagery but was still delightful to listen to and didn't feel nearly as long as the 45-minute run time listed in the program. The first movement seemed a subdued, almost barren, mood with the hints of a march.

While the first movement sounded a bit like a march, the second movement struck as if a highly nationalistic tune was buried under a dirge, leading to crying passion, and undoubtedly my favorite passages from the piece wherein a delicate music box lullaby emerges from the celesta and wafts over the orchestra.

The third movement would be an apt soundtrack for a wagon charging down a dusty country road, energetic and enthusiastic -- Richard Rodda's program notes use the word "bumptious" to refer to it, and that word is as apt as it is unique, before turning more "austere" and somber.

Lincoln
* (In the outside New York box office definition)