CMNW's July 15 matinee was a peripatetic delight

Benjamin Lulich

The program presented on Sunday July 15 at the Lincoln Performance Hall as part of the Chamber Music Northwest summer festival was a rich repast featuring works from the most spare, stripped-down solo work to sumptuous sound walls from an eclectic barrage of instruments.

Clarinettist Benjamin Lulich played Stravinsky's Three Pieces for Solo Clarinet to open the program. The rich, woody timbre he employed in the opening, and the weight of importance placed on each individual note lent the air of a self-conscious, mildly sad threnody with a long, slow, riveting decrescendo al niente at the end. The finale felt like a slightly wonky klezmer tune, marvelously short, sweet and delicious, like a musical petit fours. Flutist Ransom Wilson followed this with Debussy's iconic Syrinx for solo flute, playing with a sinuous, serpentine clarity of line and skillful manipulation, varying timbre even across individual notes.

Jean Cartan's (1906-1932)  Sonatine for Flute and Clarinet was next, as Wilson and Lulich joined forces for a Pastorale that opened as curious ricercar followed by a murmuring accompagnato for flute, and there were fascinating times when the duo managed to sound like two flutes, or even two clarinets. The Berceuse was characterized by a warm, buttery 4-note ostinato from the clarinet, and they reveled in the dissonant cadences of the Rondeau.

Jacques Ibert's Suite from Le jardiniere de Samos saw the woodwind players joined by Mikio Sasaki on trumpet, Jennifer Frautschi on violin, Mihai Marica on cello, and percussionist Ian David Rosenbaum.Highlights from the Ibert included Frautschi's dancing, 2-note saltando chords in the Air de danse, the 3-voiced fugue with delightfully bouncy entrances, and the incredible efficacy of the ensemble playing in bringing out the highlights from amongst a welter of interweaving lines.

Stravinsky's Suite from L'histoire du soldat comprised the second half of the afternoon, and for it the Ibert ensemble (minus cello and flute) were joined by Charles Reneau on trombone, Peter Lloyd on bass, and  bassoonist Julie Feves, who also provided a delightful narrative of the tale before the music started.

Jennifer Frautschi

In the opening movement Lloyd's staccato was so biting that at times it sounded like a pizzicato. Frautschi's double-stopped air in the second movement was truly engaging, and the lines were tossed so seamlessly between bassoon and trombone it was sometimes difficult to tell where one instrument ended and the other began. The Pastorale was played as a sad and evocative duet between bassoon and clarinet. The wild and wonderful staccato trumpet theme from the Royal March was another highlight, and during the Three Dances Frautschi played a languorous tango, redolent with mystery, and a slow and staggering ragtime. The Grand Choral was appropriately reverent, and the group rendered it like the odd modern cousin of a chorale at the outset of a Bach cantata.

Such incredible variety over a short concert (perhaps an hour's worth of music) is one reason why CMNW is such an important part of the region's cultural landscape, and further is an example of the ingenuity of the programming.

Fantastic images, personal interpretations mark Oregon Symphony's 'Rite of Spring'

Elina Vähälä

The Oregon Symphony set out to give the audience what it wanted (quite literally) on its Rite of Spring weekend, and appeared to succeed admirably. After engaging with the OSO listening public and various community partners, the result was the 'Sounds of Home' series, that "pairs exhiliarating repertoire with stunning visual displays to explore timely issues in the Portland community and beyond," according to OSO.  The series opening on January 13 was bold and challenging, both in terms of repertoire and visual elements.

One of the hallmarks of the evening seemed to be personal interpretations; Maestro Kalmar, whose natural charisma and vast knowledge alway make for engaging and edifying remarks, seemed even more intimate in his speaking and conducting.  The incredible personal touches from violinist Elina Vähälä and the visuals by multimedia experience designer Matthew Haber added to this in that all the images he used were from Oregon, and so personal to our state.  In keeping with that spirit I shall be incorporating a few personal touches in the form of memories and observations to this review.

The opening piece was Haydn's Symphony No. 70 in D Major, one reason for its choosing being that it is not one of the better-known chestnuts from this voluminous oeuvre.  Its opening was spritely and almost terpsichorean; clean, bright and balanced. A surprisingly bold attack on the menuet in the third movement was refreshing, and the Allegro con brio finale contained a crisply executed contrapuntal section. This fugue served as a reminder of the incredible transitional period that was the span of Haydn's life (1732-1809)--as a young man, his early compositions were written when old Master Bach and other great maestros of the high baroque were still composing, and he lived through the gallant and Viennese classical on through to the first whisperings of the Romantic, some of which can be heard in his last works.

The second work of the first half was a titanic violin concerto, Bartók's Violin Concerto No. 2. Vähälä opened with a full frontal assault--almost transgressive in her chordal attack. Kalmar expertly brought the orchestal dynamic down when they began to overshadow Vähälä's pianissimo trills. There followed a loud, almost vulgar tremolo from winds and strings and a saucy glissando from the soloist. Vähälä leaned heavily on a melodic minor motif which produced an incredible effect of maximum dissonance.  The soloist opened the theme and variations of the second movement began with a very sere exposition, a sort of poco mezzo saltando that was affecting and delicious. The strings had some great slapping, snapping pizzicato fun, and Vähälä delivered a haunting siren song seemingly out of nowhere with sorcerous ability, and closed the work with bacchanalian fervor.

The usual backdrop behind the stage at the Schnitz  was a stylized, mountainous series of screens covering the dingy old choir loft, the self-same loft where I have spent many an hour over the years as a bass waiting for the fourth movement of the Beethoven 9 to begin. 'The long sit,' I've always called it. Leading to the bad old joke about how the choir occupies its time while waiting--'it's the bottom of the 9th and the basses are loaded.'  But tonight the space was being used for something much different. 

As Stravinsky's seminal Rite of Spring began, scenes of flowers budding and seedlings sprouting accompanied the delightful woodwind cacophony.  Haber's images were kaleidoscopic--distracting from the music at first it seemed but maybe only to a reviewer trying to take notes? At any rate it soon seemed to mesh more smoothly. The images changed to cityscapes as the music grew bolder.  Ephemeral wisps of smoke devolved into human, plant and animal shapes before quickly dissolving.  The OSO played this difficult piece high and tight as one would expect from this group, displaying incredible subtlety and cocksure boldness in equal measures. Infectious, beautiful and arrestingly violent, the music then began accompanying disturbing images of fungal spores waving and bobbing like heads in a crowd. With weeping slime molds and spores blossoming in an uncomfortable reminiscence of mushroom clouds, the work finished showing the magic of decay.

Oregon Symphony and Portland Symphonic Choir deliver a fine Mozart Requiem

Stephen Zopfi

Monday night, April 10, saw the final OSO performance of the Mozart Requiem by a Stephen Zopfi-trained Portland Symphonic Choir, as he has announced his retirement from the PSC as of the end of this season. Guest conductor Jean-Marie Zeitouni also led the group in An arrangement of Purcell's Chacony in G-minor, and Stravinsky's Symphony in Three Movements.

The Chacony, arranged by Joby Talbott, was a fascinating beginning. It was lovely and haunting, presaging the Mozart in its ominous glory. The copious use of bells, including bowed crotales, lent a  slightly cacophonous atmosphere to the piece, as dissonances held and then suddenly dissipated.

The first movement of the Stravinsky featured excellent, often subtle but important work for for the piano, following a sort of monstrous plodding opening. The OSO rendered this work as peripatetic and delightfully strange. Stravinsky must have loved the bassoon considering all the tasty arts he wrote for it over the years, and the OSO bassoonists did not disappoint.  Zeitouni guided the orchestra through difficult shoals in this piece, showing himself to be a capable leader.

As is Zopfi's wont, the PSC sang Mozart's iconic Requiem in D Minor using Germanicized Latin, different in many respects from the usual Church Latin, but the correct choice for this performance. There were balance problems with the choir and orchestra initially, with the sopranos and altos sublimated to the orchestra, but these issues were shortly remedied. Soprano soloist Katie Van Kooten set the standard early, scything through the thick orchestral texture without over-delivery.

By the Kyrie, the balance problems with choir and orchestra were largely resolved, and it was full and forceful.  The Dies Irae featured marvelous diction from the chorus (as did the whole work by and large).  Mezzo-soprano Sasha Cooke wowed during the Tuba Mirum, and the Rex Tremendae featured a delicious, knock-you-out of your seat 'Rex!' one of many features showing just how well the PSC knows this work.

The soloists, all fine singers individually, left something to be desired by way of ensemble performance. Van Kooten sometimes overpowered the other voices, but really left me wishing that the others could have stepped up to her level of sound production, as she was wonderful to hear. Nevertheless, balance and blend was sometimes lost.

The Confutatis and the Lacrimosa must surely be among the most satisfying choral movements ever, both in terms of performing them and listening to them, and the PSC thrived in this moment. The sopranos and altos execution of sighing, weeping motives, the bass and tenors thundering out the fearful dream of hellfire--the most anticipated moments of the evening lived up to their centuries-old hype and were everything a listener could wish for.

The Requiem shone as a collection of discrete movements, and because of the quality of the movements (obviously mostly because of Mozart but Levin's gold-standard completion should not be forgotten) this was not a bad thing to hear; quite the opposite.  Somehow, emotionally it didn't pull fully together as a cohesive whole; given the quality of sound from both choir and orchestra it felt as though Zeitouni did not quite get it done as he did the first half of the evening, and ensemble problems from the soloists did not help.

As a final note, Stephen Zopfi's contribution to Portland's choral community, and arts community as a whole, cannot be underestimated. The PSC has more performances of their own this season, but too often the work of a choral conductor is overlooked when the baton is handed to an orchestral conductor who will be leading the group in concert. Having sung under Stephen for a number of years in the PSC, I can say unreservedly that Portland audiences will miss the work of this brilliant, hard-working and extremely knowledgeable musician in the years to come. Adieu, maestro.

Finnish invasion at the Oregon Symphony propels music by Sibelius, Stravinsky, and Tchaikovsky

Two young Finnish musicians, conductor Pietari Inkinen and violinist Pekka Kuusisto, highlighted last weekend’s Oregon Symphony concert with spirited performances of works by Jean Sibelius, Igor Stravinsky, and Piotr Ilyich Tchaikovsky. I attended the concert on Sunday, and the Arlene Schnitzer Concert Hall was fairly full, a pleasant surprise for two guest artists who are not well-known in the United States. Inkinen is the newly appointed music director of the New Zealand Symphony and Kuusisto won the Sibelius Violin Competition in 1995 at the age of 19.

The concert began with the Sibelius tone poem “En Saga,” which was last performed by the orchestra in 1933. This piece offers a striking variety of moods and shifting sonic scenery. Inkinen and the orchestra brought out every last drop of music. One of the earlier passages evoke the sound of wings and even looked that way as the violin and viola sections bowed in opposite directions. That was cool.

I also enjoyed the organic groundswell of sound that erupted at one point before dwindling down to a small sound from just a few players in the bass and second violins. Principal John Cox played a memorable solo horn passage that was muffled and sorrowful at the same time. Arresting pairings between the oboes and violins, a plaintive solo by principal clarinetist Yoshinori Nakao, and stirring strumming by the cellos were just some of the most intriguing and expressive parts of this performance.

Guest artist Kuusisto played Stravinsky’s Violin Concerto with verve. The first movement has a light, circus-like sound. The second took a serious turn with sudden shifts that suggested turmoil. A declamatory statement at the beginning of the third movement was followed by a slight, lyrical theme. At one point, two flutes, the double bass section, and the soloist shared a sonic fling that was oddly satisfying. The final movement featured nimble articulation by the Kuusisto and a quick duet for him and principal bassoonist Evan Kuhlmann.

It seemed the orchestra was too loud in the first movement, but overall, the Stravinsky piece seemed to be very transitory. The music never soared in any particular direction. But perhaps it wasn’t meant to do so. In any case, the audience gave Kuusisto and the orchestra a long round of warm applause. Kuusisto responded with an encore, a virtuosic piece by a Lithuanian composer whose name I didn’t catch. It was a very tricky, almost surreal number that caused him to shed a lot of horsehair on his bow. I would’ve liked to have heard it a second time.

After intermission, the orchestra played Tchaikovsky’s Symphony No. 4, a very popular work that worked like comfort food for the ears after hearing the Stravinsky piece even though the music is weighted with a "fate" theme. Inkinen led the orchestra in a full-blooded interpretation that had some interesting nuances. The first movement showed some very slow pacing that contrasted well with the faster tempi at the end. The woodwinds in the second movement traded around the ascending and descending passages adroitly. However, earlier in that same movement, I had expected the orchestra to make a diminuendo that is always exciting to hear, but Inkinen didn’t ask for it. The pizzicato strings in the third movement were terrific. The fourth movement ended in a blaze that kicked off enthusiastic applause from the audience.

Still, I was more impressed with the orchestra's rendition of the Sibelius piece. Hopefully, it won't have to wait another 75 years to be played by this orchestra.