Leos Janácek: Pohádka
– A Tale (1910)
György Kurtág: Four
Short Pieces for Cello Alone from
Signs, Games and Messages
Robert Schumann: Mondnacht
from Liederkreis,
Op. 39; Five Pieces
in Folk Style, Op. 102
Nora Kroll-Rosenbaum: Vis-à-vis
(Homage to Schumann) (2004, world
premiere)
Martin Bresnick: Ballade
(2004, world premiere)
Johannes Brahms: Sonata
in F Major, Op. 99
In a
keenly imagined recital, André Emelianoff,
one of the city’s most popular cellists, departed
from his usual role as a founding member of
the Da Capo Chamber Players. Here he demonstrated
his skill in concocting an evening with works
not only enjoyable in their own right, but
works that comment upon each other.
The
Janácek is a gorgeous, folk-influenced
piece opening with pizzicati that Emelianoff
launched into with a gutsy brio – a quality
that never left him the entire evening. The
work is equally demanding for the pianist,
in this case the outstanding Thomas Hoppe.
The mysterious Kurtág fragments that
followed are part of a longer work in progress
called Signs, Games and Messages (the
complete recording is available on ECM). These
two were well positioned with a transcription
of Schumann’s song Mondnacht, followed
by Five Pieces in Folk Style, gentle
gems that seemed to ignite Emelianoff and
his strongly attentive accompanist. It must
be said at this point, however, that despite
the musical intelligence on display, this
fine cellist seemed to be having a bit of
a rough night, with intonation problems rearing
up, and hesitant attacks lending an inadvertently
tentative quality to the performances.
Just
before the interval, Nora Kroll-Rosenbaum
introduced her new piece with a brief apology
for some technical difficulties with the video
element (designed by artist Chase Palmer),
but after watching the result, I’m not sure
what the composer (and the artist) intended,
and how the result differed from what was
originally planned. Before Mr. Emelianoff
appeared, the room darkened and on the left
wall, three larger-than-life images of him
appeared, side-by-side, in red, yellow and
blue – each of which then slowly cycled through
other similar images of the cellist playing,
changing hues in the process. Although the
initial impact of this display was arresting,
after a few minutes the images seemed to repeat
themselves, and ultimately did not add much
to the proceedings. When Mr. Emelianoff strode
to center stage, I lost interest in the graphics
altogether and focused solely on his playing.
As an
aside, a number of concerts this season have
incorporated visual elements, and in general,
I am optimistic about this development, that
eventually it will pay off in luring audiences
into the concert hall who take visual stimuli
more for granted. (I’m not suggesting this
is an ideal situation, but reflecting the
reality.) I say "eventually" because
at the moment, it feels as if some musicians
are not quite sure what they want out of the
visual, and conversely, some visual artists
may not get many clues from their aural counterparts.
Tonight’s graphics veered perilously toward
being "background" for the music.
In any case, Mr. Emelianoff should be congratulated
for plunging into a nebulous area that will
eventually pay off when each art form comments
on the other more directly, creating a result
– a whole – that is greater than either component
experienced separately.
Noted
composer Martin Bresnick brought forth an
engaging new piece using (to these ears) Brahmsian
chords, moods and structures. Ballade is
brief, maybe ten minutes, but covers a great
deal of territory, its moods ranging from
capriciousness to melancholy, before finally
settling on a gorgeous chord of repose. Bresnick
is perhaps under-appreciated, since the path
he follows has little to do with severe modernist
leanings. Frankly, I like his romantic streak,
and his pursuit of sounds that seem familiar,
yet somehow are not. It made a fine companion
to the (actual) Brahms that followed.
Bruce
Hodges