I also heard three string quartet performances in a short period of time. The first, by the Ariel Quartet, took place at the Italian Academy at Columbia, a beautiful old Stanford White building. The quartet was sponsored by an organization called Aspect, which means to present concerts with informative talks. The repertoire was two Beethoven quartets, Op. 18, No 1 (one of his first), and Op. 131 (one of his last), so I could hardly resist. The performances were good, and I came away with a renewed sense of how special Beethoven's quartets are. I would happily go to a Beethoven quartet concert once a month for the rest of my life. It was the musicians themselves who were scheduled to give the talks, so I had hoped for a bit of talking about the quartets with some performed examples. Instead, though, they presented a basic biography of Beethoven, filled with familiar facts an only a slight step above Wikipedia. Too bad.
The second quartet was the Jack Quartet, who played in a smaller room at the 92nd Street Y. They are known as one of the best new music string quartets, and after hearing them I agree. Their virtuosity is extraordinary; they can make the unplayable seem easy. The program was well chosen; three new works by contemporary composers (all women!) and the final work was Ligeti's second quartet, dating from the late 60's. Of the three new works, the quartet by Zosha di Castri was my favorite. She did some very interesting things, that sounded fresh and new. Writing for quartets is not easy. I realized that for me, the legacy of Bartok hovers over most 20th century quartet writing. He was the one who really invented the notion of a quartet as an evocative soundscape, and not just a medium for thematic invention. Hearing Ligeti's quartet at the end of the concert solidified this idea in my mind. The Ligeti both acknowledges Bartok, as well as taking his ideas a step further.
The 92nd Street Y was pitching this concert as a more "hip" event than their regular chamber music series, with the late start time of 9 PM. They also served free wine, which was made even better by the fact that they provided cups with lids (like those you get to go in coffee joints), so that you could safely bring your wine into the concert space. First time I have ever had a glass of wine with a lid on it! (Not good for the wine, but good for the concert.)
Later, I heard the Danish String Quartet, also at the Y. They played Beethoven's Op. 59, No 1, one of my favorites. (Although every time I hear a Beethoven quartet performed well, it becomes one of my favorites.) They played in a high-energy, expressive style, which was very effective at times. But the first movement of the Beethoven was taken in a tempo that was much to fast for my taste. But still, what amazing music! A surprise for me was Hadyn's early quartet, Op 20, No. 2. This was filled with inventive ideas and unusual groupings of instruments; it dates from the period when Haydn was first developing the genre of String quartet. There was also an early piece by Hans Abrahamsen, whose music I normally like, but this one was all over the map, stylistically.
Vera was eager to see the Metropolitan Operas production of Boito's "Mefistofele", an opera based on Goethe's "Faust". Boito is best known as a librettist, but he was actually a conservatory trained composer as well. His primary interests were literary, though, but he was actively involved in proposing notions for the reform of 19th century Italian opera.
Hearing the opera was fascinating; my expectations were consistently being undermined. Many parts of the opera are totally unconventional, as if the whole 19th century Italian opera tradition has never existed. And other parts fall very much within the conventions. It's not a masterpiece, but the opera was consistently interesting and sometimes astonishing. There is a witche's sabbath chorus which is totally out of this world. The opera had a first class production, directed by Robert Carsen. The stage was filled with all kinds of wonderful things going on, and all of it was to point of what was going on.
We saw the latest William Kentridge event at the Park Avenue Armory. It's called "The Head and the Load", and is about the horrors that were inflicted on the black population in Africa by the European powers during World War I. It was an evening length event, conceived of by Kentridge with the collaboration of many black African performers and two composers, Thuthuka Sibisi and Phillip Miller. It's hard to actually say what it is; some people called it an installation. Vera called it a kaleidoscopic requiem, and the New York Times reviewer (an art critic) called it a pageant. It's a collage of music, speeches, texts, sounds, dances, visual projections, shadow plays, and anything else you might think of. It's maximal. Texts included Tristan Tzara translated into isiZulu, Fritz Fanon into siSwati, along with French, German, English, and bits of Kurt Schwitters' "Ursonate", etc., etc. Music ranged from songs by Schoenberg and Satie to African music of all kinds.
It was presented on the widest stage you can imagine, filling most of the 300 foot length of the main hall.
Here are some pictures of the production:
The very wide stage:
Kentridge is all about bombarding you with a maximal amount of information; in the case of his production of the opera "Lulu", I thought his direction was overkill, but in the case,
I thought it worked for the most part. The whole thing doesn't really cohere as a drama or music drama, but it's not meant to.
We heard Kaija Saariaho's latest opera, "Only the Sound Remains". The libretto is from two Noh plays, as translated by Ezra Pound. It's a chamber opera (or two operas really, one based on each play), with only two vocal soloists and a dancer on stage; with four singers and a small ensemble in the pit. It was directed by the amazing Peter Sellars. The sets were by Julie Mehretu, an artist I like very much.
I didn't like the music of the opera very much. Saaraiho's music is sensuous and evocative, but she is not really interested in contrast or change. I am usually drawn into the music, but after a while I want something to be different, especially in a piece that is about an hour long. It's all beautiful, but the beauty begins to wear on me after a while. And, like other recent pieces of hers I have heard, all the musicians and vocal soloists are equipped with microphones, and the sound is processed and then manipulated by the sound designer. I get tired of things endlessly reverberating and echoing around the hall. It's like a spice which, sparingly used, can be effective, but in massive quantities becomes overbearing. I found myself thinking of our recent experience of Les Huguenots by Meyerbeer, who knew a thing or two about dramatic contrast and pacing. Vera liked it, however, as did the critics and others. I am most likely guilty of wanting it to be something that it isn't meant to be.
Among the co-commisoners of the opera was the Canadian Opera Company. It was premiered in 2015 in Europe, and this performance in New York as part of the White Light Festival was its North American premiere. Will the Canadian Opera Company ever perform their own commission?
Our penultimate concert of the fall was a performance of by the Juilliard Orchestra, conducted by John Adams. The concert began with a thankfully sound-designer free work by Kaija Saariaho entitled "Ciel d'hiver". It consisted mostly of a simple melody repeated in differing orchestrations, accompanied by what electronic musician types refer to as a "pad", a continuous sonority. It was a very subtly changing pad, and I liked it. Vera didn't. Then Adams conducted his own "Atomic Symphony", based on musical material from his eponymous opera. It was visceral and exciting, filled with Adams' trademark rhythmic layers and building up to some ferocious climaxes. It was especially exciting in relative small space of Alice Tully Hall. The last piece on the program was Brahms's 4th Symphony. Normally, I would not think of a composer like John Adams as someone I would project as an ideal Brahms conductor. But it was in fact a terrific performance, with Adams and the orchestra playing with tremendous spirit and intensity. Adams conducted the score from memory, and he was clearly enjoying every minute. He brought out all the contrasts vividly. I have heard Brahms played with more finesse and exactitude before, but never with such enthusiasm and energy.
My last concert was yet another string quartet concert, this by the Rolston Quartet, featuring Beethoven's Op. 130. The performances were excellent! The concert was in Weill Recital Hall, which to my ears is just about the perfect place to hear chamber music. They began with Mozart's K464 quartet, in which Mozart seemingly worked overtime to create a very complex and intricate composition. The second piece was Ligeti's first quartet. It is definitely the work of a young composer; filled with brilliant and arresting ideas, one after another. The Rolston Quartet played with ferocious intensity when required; they were totally committed to the piece. The Beethoven was equally excellent; such extraordinary musicianship with such extraordinary music. It was musical paradise for me. (Though I couldn't sleep at night with all that music running through my head!)
