Forgive me if I don’t include as many of my usual artist links for awhile. I’m in the throes of a temporary crisis: my laptop was stolen Thursday, and my only backup for now is an old dinosaur of a PC at home that runs with all the speed of an arthritic turtle – and only a dial-up web connection. And in the middle of Spoleto? Grrrr. Still, I’m anxious to tell you what I can about the two choice events I got to today.
Chamber Program V kicked off at 1:00 p.m. today with another delightful confection from Francis Poulenc (we got his wonderful Flute Sonata in program I): his cheeky little Duo for Clarinet and Bassoon. Joining series stalwart Todd Palmer was bassoon wonder Peter Kolkay, in his first series appearance. And I look forward to his future appearances, too – this guy can really play! Short though it was (three fleeting movements), we still heard many of Poulenc’s hallmarks: humor, whimsy, and sweet wistfulness. His saucy final cakewalk enchanted. Palmer and Kolkay looked like they were really enjoying themselves.
Enter the super-versatile piano wizard Stephen Prutsman – who also happens to be a composer, arranger and conductor. He treated us to a sampling of works from his recently released CD of J. S. Bach’s Well-Tempered Clavier, Book II – considered by many (along with Book I) to be THE pinnacle of contrapuntal keyboard music. BTW, this is the third time this festival I’ve gotten to blog about the exalted wonders of Bach, before whom every other composer must bend the knee.
He gave us three of Book II’s 24 Prelude-and-Fugue sets, dazzling with his dexterity and drive (Bach fugues are NOT easy to play – I’ve messed up a few of them myself). To boot, he seduced us with his searching interpretation and emotional intensity. Prutsman definitely subscribes to the romantic school of Bach playing … but so what? You can subject Bach’s work to just about any style or approach you can name, and his musical truth will still shine through.
Next we heard Prutsman the composer. Fellow pianist Pedja Muzijevic joined him onstage for one of his latest pieces, in its world premiere performance: (get this)Sarah’s Band and her Pet Chatterbox, for piano four hands. (I won’t even begin to tell you how he came up with it – come see me at Millennium Music if you’re curious). Anyway, it was quite a piece: solemn and reflective at first – then turning busy and kinetic, with a little violence thrown in. The style was distinctly minimalist, with some catchy rhythmic shifts and syncopations to hold our interest.
Oh – and not far into the piece (and of course at its quietest possible moment), some dolt in the audience got not one, but TWO freaking cellphone calls in a row – destroying the music’s gentle spell. Let’s lobby to make it a capital offense!
Another pertinent side observation is that the Memminger’s acoustics seem rather unkind to solo piano music, especially during loud or busy passages. Even though Prutsman used his pedal sparingly, the auditorium’s sharp sound tended to degrade his usual clarity of sound in quite a few passages.
The final number was one of the BIG, rare chamber works that Wadsworth promised us this time ‘round (I’ve already mentioned it): Ludwig van Beethoven’s perky and high-spirited Septet in E-flat, Op. 20 – for violin (Daniel Philips), viola (Lesley Robertson), cello (Edward Arron), Eric Ruske (horn), plus the aforementioned Peter Kolkay and Todd Palmer. Oh – and there was Tony Manzo (I hope I spelled it right) on double bass: a hitherto unheralded series newcomer who flew in just yesterday.
As the fairly early opus number would suggest, this is Beethoven still somewhat under the thrall of his predecessors Mozart and Haydn (his teacher). But Beethoven, the rebellious imp, was also there in full force. I won’t take you through all five movements – but we heard many qualities here that poor Ludwig doesn’t always get credit for: boundless wit and humor, buoyant charm, and gracious lyricism. I especially enjoyed the fourth movement’s cunning theme-and-variations. Our players were dead-on, and everybody got their chance to shine. You can catch it twice more on Friday.
A final note – and your next Eargasm alert: the following program (No. VI), kicking off Saturday at 11:00 a.m., will feature the series’ biggest single work: Franz Schubert’s delicious Octet in F major, D. 803, one of his most revered chamber works. You almost never get to hear it, ‘cause it’s damned hard to assemble all the quality musicians you need at one place and time.
Tune in to Eargasms tomorrow if you’d like to hear about how the imani Winds sounded (in Music in Time’s third program), without a big orchestra backing them up.
Chamber Champs Do it Again
Forgive me if I don’t include as many of my usual artist links for awhile. I’m in the throes of a temporary crisis: my laptop was stolen Thursday, and my only backup for now is an old dinosaur of a PC at home that runs with all the speed of an arthritic turtle – and only a dial-up web connection. And in the middle of Spoleto? Grrrr. Still, I’m anxious to tell you what I can about the two choice events I got to today.
Chamber Program V kicked off at 1:00 p.m. today with another delightful confection from Francis Poulenc (we got his wonderful Flute Sonata in program I): his cheeky little Duo for Clarinet and Bassoon. Joining series stalwart Todd Palmer was bassoon wonder Peter Kolkay, in his first series appearance. And I look forward to his future appearances, too – this guy can really play! Short though it was (three fleeting movements), we still heard many of Poulenc’s hallmarks: humor, whimsy, and sweet wistfulness. His saucy final cakewalk enchanted. Palmer and Kolkay looked like they were really enjoying themselves.
Enter the super-versatile piano wizard Stephen Prutsman – who also happens to be a composer, arranger and conductor. He treated us to a sampling of works from his recently released CD of J. S. Bach’s Well-Tempered Clavier, Book II – considered by many (along with Book I) to be THE pinnacle of contrapuntal keyboard music. BTW, this is the third time this festival I’ve gotten to blog about the exalted wonders of Bach, before whom every other composer must bend the knee.
He gave us three of Book II’s 24 Prelude-and-Fugue sets, dazzling with his dexterity and drive (Bach fugues are NOT easy to play – I’ve messed up a few of them myself). To boot, he seduced us with his searching interpretation and emotional intensity. Prutsman definitely subscribes to the romantic school of Bach playing … but so what? You can subject Bach’s work to just about any style or approach you can name, and his musical truth will still shine through.
Next we heard Prutsman the composer. Fellow pianist Pedja Muzijevic joined him onstage for one of his latest pieces, in its world premiere performance: (get this)Sarah’s Band and her Pet Chatterbox, for piano four hands. (I won’t even begin to tell you how he came up with it – come see me at Millennium Music if you’re curious). Anyway, it was quite a piece: solemn and reflective at first – then turning busy and kinetic, with a little violence thrown in. The style was distinctly minimalist, with some catchy rhythmic shifts and syncopations to hold our interest.
Oh – and not far into the piece (and of course at its quietest possible moment), some dolt in the audience got not one, but TWO freaking cellphone calls in a row – destroying the music’s gentle spell. Let’s lobby to make it a capital offense!
Another pertinent side observation is that the Memminger’s acoustics seem rather unkind to solo piano music, especially during loud or busy passages. Even though Prutsman used his pedal sparingly, the auditorium’s sharp sound tended to degrade his usual clarity of sound in quite a few passages.
The final number was one of the BIG, rare chamber works that Wadsworth promised us this time ‘round (I’ve already mentioned it): Ludwig van Beethoven’s perky and high-spirited Septet in E-flat, Op. 20 – for violin (Daniel Philips), viola (Lesley Robertson), cello (Edward Arron), Eric Ruske (horn), plus the aforementioned Peter Kolkay and Todd Palmer. Oh – and there was Tony Manzo (I hope I spelled it right) on double bass: a hitherto unheralded series newcomer who flew in just yesterday.
As the fairly early opus number would suggest, this is Beethoven still somewhat under the thrall of his predecessors Mozart and Haydn (his teacher). But Beethoven, the rebellious imp, was also there in full force. I won’t take you through all five movements – but we heard many qualities here that poor Ludwig doesn’t always get credit for: boundless wit and humor, buoyant charm, and gracious lyricism. I especially enjoyed the fourth movement’s cunning theme-and-variations. Our players were dead-on, and everybody got their chance to shine. You can catch it twice more on Friday.
A final note – and your next Eargasm alert: the following program (No. VI), kicking off Saturday at 11:00 a.m., will feature the series’ biggest single work: Franz Schubert’s delicious Octet in F major, D. 803, one of his most revered chamber works. You almost never get to hear it, ‘cause it’s damned hard to assemble all the quality musicians you need at one place and time.
Tune in to Eargasms tomorrow if you’d like to hear about how the imani Winds sounded (in Music in Time’s third program), without a big orchestra backing them up.