This afternoon’s first go at our cherished chamber series’ third program sported the usual assortment of musical “cherries” – and the usual happy crowd of chamber music nuts was there to pick them. All administrative details have –hallelujah – been attended to: the program board was where everybody could see it, and Dr. Wadsworth was appropriately miked – so we could finally stop straining to hear all of his jokes and irreverent commentary on the music (and players).
The ever-versatile St. Lawrence String Quartet started things off with one of Josef Haydn’s nearly 80 string quartets – a genre that he invented. And there’s hardly a bad apple in that basket, either: as head honcho violinist (and new Associate Series Director) Geoff Nuttall told us, Papa Haydn is something of a god to string quartet players. And their reverence showed – in a perky, yet profound go at the second of the Op. 54 quartets, in C major. It was quite the revolutionary work in its day, repeatedly violating his own classic quartet blueprint.
After the delightfully witty first movement, Nuttall cut loose in the second with a wild, gypsy-flavored obbligato of sorts, hurtling headlong over his colleagues’ more subdued sonorities. After the third movement’s obligatory minuet-and-trio, the finale began with a (gasp!) slow and mournful passage – hardly the usual brisk rondo that Haydn used to blow off steam at the end. Sure, there was a fast and frantic middle section – but then back came the slow part to end the work with a sad little whimper. Everybody loved it.
Next came one of the many choice rarities that this series never fails to bring us: three of the eight Pieces for Clarinet, Viola and Piano, by German composer Max Bruch. Music for this combination of instruments is rare, indeed. Clarinetist Todd Palmer, violist Hsin-yun Huang and pianist Stephen Prustsman gave it their all. The lovely, songlike first number kept the clarinet and viola in earnest conversation, before things got all passionate and agitated in the following fast item. The last piece took us out on an energetic and festive note. It’s a shame this terrific music is so sadly neglected.
I’ve blogged below about profundities from the great J.S. Bach – and this program gave me my second one of those in just two days: the brilliant and gut-wrenching ‘Chaconne,’ from his Partita in D Minor for solo violin. Written not long after his beloved first wife died, some musicologists believe this searing piece expresses the depths of his grief. Here’s what Johannes Brahms (no slouch, himself) had to say about it:
“The Chaconne is, for me, one of the most wonderful,
unfathomable pieces of music. On one stave, for a single
small instrument, the man writes a whole world of the deepest
thoughts and most powerful feelings. I imagine that if I could
have created – even conceived – such a piece, I am convinced
that the excess of excitement and earth-shattering experience
would have driven me out of my mind.”
Wadsworth entrusted this shattering monument to his old friend and colleague Daniel Phillips – whose wonderful violin (and viola) playing has graced this series off and on since the festival began over 30 years ago. He gave it a brisk, straightforward rendition: none of those “soulful” pauses or languorous phrasing that some violinists inflict on the music. He let the composer lead the way and speak for himself – yet none who were there would argue with the gripping emotional intensity of his interpretation. Mr. Phillips, you had quite a few of us in tears. Add to that his glittering technique – and a tonal palette that made his itty-bitty violin sound like an orchestra unto itself. They could’ve ended the concert right there.
But I’m glad they didn’t, for we had yet to hear again from tenor Paul Groves – who has done his utterly engaging thing for three straight concerts now. With sensitive support from Prutsman’s Steinway, he warbled his way into our hearts with Adelaide, Ludwig van Beethoven’s most famous art-song. – Sigh – why hasn’t anybody ever written a love-song like that for ME? (– don’t answer that!)
An even sweeter treat came with the concert’s final number: Franz Schubert’s sweet and supremely lyrical Auf dem Strom (On the Stream) – a sadder song of parting from one’s beloved. Joining Groves and Prutsman was super-hornist Eric Ruske, and the three of them made sentimental musical magic for us. Very few composers – if any – can tap into Schubertian depths of pain and shattering emotion.
Chalk up another victory for Wadsworth and company. You guys rock.
A Fresh Dose of Chamber Charm
This afternoon’s first go at our cherished chamber series’ third program sported the usual assortment of musical “cherries” – and the usual happy crowd of chamber music nuts was there to pick them. All administrative details have –hallelujah – been attended to: the program board was where everybody could see it, and Dr. Wadsworth was appropriately miked – so we could finally stop straining to hear all of his jokes and irreverent commentary on the music (and players).
The ever-versatile St. Lawrence String Quartet started things off with one of Josef Haydn’s nearly 80 string quartets – a genre that he invented. And there’s hardly a bad apple in that basket, either: as head honcho violinist (and new Associate Series Director) Geoff Nuttall told us, Papa Haydn is something of a god to string quartet players. And their reverence showed – in a perky, yet profound go at the second of the Op. 54 quartets, in C major. It was quite the revolutionary work in its day, repeatedly violating his own classic quartet blueprint.
After the delightfully witty first movement, Nuttall cut loose in the second with a wild, gypsy-flavored obbligato of sorts, hurtling headlong over his colleagues’ more subdued sonorities. After the third movement’s obligatory minuet-and-trio, the finale began with a (gasp!) slow and mournful passage – hardly the usual brisk rondo that Haydn used to blow off steam at the end. Sure, there was a fast and frantic middle section – but then back came the slow part to end the work with a sad little whimper. Everybody loved it.
Next came one of the many choice rarities that this series never fails to bring us: three of the eight Pieces for Clarinet, Viola and Piano, by German composer Max Bruch. Music for this combination of instruments is rare, indeed. Clarinetist Todd Palmer, violist Hsin-yun Huang and pianist Stephen Prustsman gave it their all. The lovely, songlike first number kept the clarinet and viola in earnest conversation, before things got all passionate and agitated in the following fast item. The last piece took us out on an energetic and festive note. It’s a shame this terrific music is so sadly neglected.
I’ve blogged below about profundities from the great J.S. Bach – and this program gave me my second one of those in just two days: the brilliant and gut-wrenching ‘Chaconne,’ from his Partita in D Minor for solo violin. Written not long after his beloved first wife died, some musicologists believe this searing piece expresses the depths of his grief. Here’s what Johannes Brahms (no slouch, himself) had to say about it:
“The Chaconne is, for me, one of the most wonderful,
unfathomable pieces of music. On one stave, for a single
small instrument, the man writes a whole world of the deepest
thoughts and most powerful feelings. I imagine that if I could
have created – even conceived – such a piece, I am convinced
that the excess of excitement and earth-shattering experience
would have driven me out of my mind.”
Wadsworth entrusted this shattering monument to his old friend and colleague Daniel Phillips – whose wonderful violin (and viola) playing has graced this series off and on since the festival began over 30 years ago. He gave it a brisk, straightforward rendition: none of those “soulful” pauses or languorous phrasing that some violinists inflict on the music. He let the composer lead the way and speak for himself – yet none who were there would argue with the gripping emotional intensity of his interpretation. Mr. Phillips, you had quite a few of us in tears. Add to that his glittering technique – and a tonal palette that made his itty-bitty violin sound like an orchestra unto itself. They could’ve ended the concert right there.
But I’m glad they didn’t, for we had yet to hear again from tenor Paul Groves – who has done his utterly engaging thing for three straight concerts now. With sensitive support from Prutsman’s Steinway, he warbled his way into our hearts with Adelaide, Ludwig van Beethoven’s most famous art-song. – Sigh – why hasn’t anybody ever written a love-song like that for ME? (– don’t answer that!)
An even sweeter treat came with the concert’s final number: Franz Schubert’s sweet and supremely lyrical Auf dem Strom (On the Stream) – a sadder song of parting from one’s beloved. Joining Groves and Prutsman was super-hornist Eric Ruske, and the three of them made sentimental musical magic for us. Very few composers – if any – can tap into Schubertian depths of pain and shattering emotion.
Chalk up another victory for Wadsworth and company. You guys rock.