Author Archives: Leslie

Extraordinary Music Led by Extraordinary Alexi Kenney

November 21, 2015 – Davies Symphony Hall, San Francisco – San Francisco Symphony members performed beautifully in an extraordinary, musical adventure. Alexi Kenney played violin and served as leader for the group. This was a Baroque presentation: all the musicians stood while playing; that is all except the harpsichordist. The music was equally very old, ca. 1664 and early 18th century; and very new. The Baroque sound is different than Classical and Romantic. We have lost touch from the 18thc. Early 18thc. humans walking around with music in their heads had delightful music to hear. Mr. Kenney played brilliantly. His great energy and devotion to the music spread to the other musicians as well as the audience.

Olli Mustonen, composer ( born 1967)

The opening piece was the only one composed in 2000. Nonetto II for Strings, by Finnish composer Olli Mustonen, has traces of Baroque music while it is still modern. It is a wonderful, appealing piece which can draw the listener’s warm attention. It was fifteen minutes long, and I would have happily let it go on. I referred to the program to be sure it has no Baroque ancestry. It is all modern with the Baroque musicians sending an occasional telegram for their part in Mustonen’s innovations.

Barbara Strozzi, composer, singer (1619 – 1677)

A very brief piece, “Che si puo fare,” Opus 8, no. 6., by Barbara Strozzi, about 5 minutes, was arranged by Alexi Kenney. Barbara Strozzi was a popular composer and singer. Anything about her that is known for sure is unusual in mid-17thc. An Italian woman in Venice, publishing her own compositions, and published eight volumes of vocal music. These songs were secular, not for the church. According to the program note, “she may have been the most published composer within her genre in Venice.” She died young, 58; it took 300 years before she was rediscovered. Its brevity made it difficult to get into it, but it has the same Baroque, tangy sound that seems so new to jaded twenty-first century listeners. A paraphrase of Ms Strozzi song:

“What can I do? The stars have no pity. If the gods won’t grant me peace, what can I do?/ What can I say? The heavens keep sending me disaster…What can I say?” If Ms Strozzi had read Sappho, they could sing a duet.

Johann Sebastian Bach, composer (1685 -1750)

Bach wanted to move in order to get a better job. He wrote the Brandenburg concertos to tempt Margrave Christian Ludwig of Brandenburg-Schwedt to bring Bach to his employment. It did not work. Instead, Bach moved to Leipzig in 1723. Bach’s concertos disappeared until 1849. The Brandenburg Concerto No. 5 in D major, BWV 1050 was a new kind of concerto. This one has violin, flute, and harpsichord soloists. It was a careful mix of the old style of concerto grosso and the new concerto with more solos. This was a great, tuneful, rhythmic Bach. The musicians were all excellent. I wished the harpsichord could be heard better while playing with the strings. Not the harpsichordist fault; when he played solo one could hear very well. Possibly, the instrument would be better heard in a smaller venue. When I was a kid, friends wanted to play pop music in their piano classes, I wanted more Bach. Still do.

Antonio Vivaldi, composer, violinist (1678 – 1741)

The Four Seasons, Opus 8, nos. 1-4, by Antonio Vivaldi, has become favorite “classical” music. Vivaldi worked at the Ospedale della Pieta in addition to being the “master of music in Italy.” The Ospedale della Pieta was a home and music school for female orphans and illegitimate daughters of wealthy nobles. It interests me that some of the music was written by Vivaldi years before he wrote The Four Seasons. Then, he composed new additions some of which were more complex. One of his major, new approaches was to write poetry and music all together in pictures of the seasons. Spring paints a picture of buds opening, singing birds returning, sudden storms come and then bring quiet. In the middle of the 20thc., The Four Seasons began to be popular again. Perhaps now, its loveliness can come back in our not so lovely era.

Beethoven Program: Barantschik, Wyrick, Nel

November 16 – Gunn Theater, Palace of the Legion of Honor

The trio of Brarantschik, violin; Wyrick, cello; Nel, piano presented a breathtaking concert of Beethoven trios. The musicians selected three magnificent trios. These artists master the intertwining collaborations of each instrument. It leaves the audience to wonder how they do it and how lucky they, the audience, are to be there.

Alexander Barantschik, violin, San Francisco Symphony’s Concertmaster. Previously he was concertmaster of the Bamberg Symphony Orchestra, London Symphony Orchestra, and Netherlands Radio Philharmonic. He performs as soloist and chamber musician. As concertmaster of the London Symphony, he toured Europe, Japan, and the US.

The program began with Beethoven’s Piano Trio in E-flat major, Opus 1, no.1,1795. The title including “Opus 1, no.1” shows that he felt he was at the true beginning of his career. He had created other compositions and presented them in private performances, but this Trio was to be published and performed with different expectations. It is a mature piece. He plays with his ideas and technical construction of the interaction of the the three instruments. The Allegro sounded light and active as he allows dashing music while he adds brief ornaments. In the Adagio, we hear singing in the piano’s solo. Violin and cello carefully join in a quieter, even solemn mood, but that does not last. The Scherzo: Allegro assai has suggestions. The music plays hide and seek as it changes, stops, returns. The Finale: Presto lets us hear the intensity of Beethoven’s desires as the piano has a quizzical position that receives the answers from violin and cello. He takes note of the first movement, and all three combine in a Beethoven upright and quick end.

Anton Nel, piano, is a recitalist, concerto soloist, chamber musician, and teacher. He has appeared internationally at Wigmore Hall, the Concertgebouw, Suntory Hall, and major venues in China, Korea, and South Africa. He has the Lozano Long Endowed Chair at the University of Texas, Austin, and teaches at the Aspen and Ravinia Festivals.

Variations in G major on “Ich bin der Schneider Kakadu,” Opus 121a, 1794-1804=3? (rev. 1816). This piece has many variations, moods, and possibly a humorous point of view under the serious technique. The inspiration came to Beethoven through the song “Ich bin der Schneider Kakadu.” That means “I am the Tailor Kakadu.” The composer was Wenzil Muller, a composer of light songs for his singspiel. It could be an ancestor of musical comedy. The dates above show that there are many questions about when Beethoven wrote this work of ten variations. It could have popped into his mind very soon after he first heard it or maybe he remembered it years later, but it is the variations that make this piece. With thanks to James M. Keller, program annotator, “contrapuntal possibilities (as in the canons of Variations V and VII) deconstructing the theme (Variation VI), subjecting it to syncopation(Variation X).” There are more. Beethoven came upon more ideas which were put in the Allegretto coda as he tried to sell it in 1816.

Peter Wyrick, cello, was a member of the San Francisco Symphony 1986-’89. He returned to SFS as Associate Principal Cello, 1999-2013, retiring in 2024. Previously, he was Principal cello of the Mostly Mozart Orchestra and associate Principal cello of the New York City Opera. He been soloist with SFS in C.P.E. Bach’s Cello Concerto in A, Bernstein’s Meditation No.1 from Mass, music of Tan Dun’s Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon.

Piano Trio in B-flat major, Opus 97, Archduke marks a painful change in Beethoven’s work. This piece, composed in 1811, was the last time he would perform. His hearing had gone too far. The piece was not performed until 1814. It was too late. The Archduke in the title was Archduke Rudolf who was younger brother of Emperor Francis I. Beethoven taught piano to the Archduke; they were as close as they could be, given Beethoven’s non-royal background. This Piano Trio has presence just as a royal Trio should be. The cello leads the melodic first movement, Allegro moderato. The strings have a wonderful, pizzicato Scherzo time, delightful, almost strange, but completely together. The Andante cantabile, slow and touching, adds four variations. This movement has warmth that reaches out to keep the spirit around us. The music takes us back to Allegro moderato, though it calls all to a sharp, fast, rondo finale.

Benjamin Pesetsky quoted Louis Spohr, violinist and composer, who remembered how Beethoven “pounded on the keys until the strings jangled, and in piano he played so softly that whole groups of tones were omitted…I felt moved with the deepest sorrow at so hard a fate.”

3 Composers PLUS Great Conductor & Pianist

San Francisco’s Davies Symphony Hall welcomed stellar artists and amazing music, 11/6 -11/8. The SF Symphony made a performance to remember with the outstanding pianist, Alexandre Kantorow, and the conductor, Karina Canellakis. Both truly blew us away. In the last season, her audience was thrilled by the unity and inspiration that she and the SF Symphony experienced together. Kantorow has presented world wide audiences astounding performances. He is the first French pianist to win the gold medal at the International Tchaikovsky Competition along with the Grand Prix.

Conductor Karina Canellakis with SF Symphony

Antonin Dvorak, composer (1841 – 1904)

Scherzo capriccioso, Opus 66 has the name of a light-hearted, even playful music, but this is not. Written in 1883, Dvorak’s mother had died recently and three of his children had passed away during earlier years. There is a darkness behind the sunny music. This piece was written before his time in America, 1892 – 1895. He was devoted to Bohemia’s music and wanted to let his home be heard by Czech and German audiences. He asked his publisher to put the title page in both languages. Dvorak told him, “I just wanted to tell you that an artist too has a fatherland in which he must also have a firm faith and which he must love.” The composer wisely allowed both audiences to feel the music was their own. The piece is only 12 minutes long, but Dvorak knew what he wanted to keep. The opening has a mood that could be anxious; it has starts and stops. The music is always fascinating: which way will it go? There is a waltz that may be sweet but ironic. The slow middle plays seriously before the English horn and clarinet perform a beautiful passage. The two instruments alternate playing the lovely melody. The final part of the brings in special parts for horns and the harp. The entire orchestra, called by a solo horn, perform what might be a happy, all notes running as though at a picnic. However, the on and off rhythms and repetitions still let us guess what is in Dvorak’s heart. It is a marvelous piece played with knowing understanding.

Sergei Prokofiev, composer (1891 – 1953)

Prokofiev’s Piano Concerto No. 3 in C major, Opus 26, helped launch Prokofiev’s works in America. The composer did not fall in love with the USA. His first visit was in 1918. The Spanish ‘flu was killing many. He had come for a 4 month tour but stayed for nearly 2 years. 1918: the Russian Revolution, World War I, and the ‘flu. A dangerous time. Prokofiev’s work seemed too edgy to the Americans. The modernist music put off potential audiences. Serge Koussevitzky, a Russian conductor, became the conductor of the Boston Symphony, starting in 1924. He was a supporter for Prokofiev’s work. In 1918, Frederick Stock, conductor of the Chicago Symphony, heard Prokofiev’s music and liked it so much that Chicago hosted Prokofiev 5 times beginning in 1921 with the premiere of the Piano Concerto No. 3. The music of this Concerto is an exciting roller coaster. The energy comes from a mix of neoclassical, modernist, and traditional styles. There are often so many things happening that there is no point in keeping one’s ears in enjoying the castanets or the piano flying through unusual syncopation variations. The music seems to take on sounds that are played simultaneously but from different directions. The orchestra and piano challenge the differences and hear all of them as one majestic piece. It is the bassoons that bring on the piano and create a back and forth race to the end. It would need hearing again in order to analyze the music: What is doing what to which phrase or instrument? Yet the music is so exciting it is more than worth hearing it again. Prokofiev was the foremost pianist in the St. Petersburg Conservatory. It is appropriate to have Alexandre Kantorow step into Prokofiev’s pianist life. Kantorow played Liszt’s transcription of Wagner’s Liebestod from Tristan und Isolde as his encore.

Pianist Alexandre Kantorow and Conductor Karina Canellakis with the SF Symphony

Jean Sibelius wrote the Four Legends from the Kalevala, Opus 22 (1896) when he was becoming interested in the Finnish epic, the Kalevala. In his childhood, he spoke Swedish. Finland was controlled by Sweden and then became a grand duchy ruled by Russia. He did not learn Finnish language until his mother put him in a Finnish speaking school. He was around 11 years old. He began to adopt Finnish music, folktales, and Finnish culture when he moved to Vienna. His friend and future wife, Aino Jarnefelt, wrote to him in Finnish; he would respond in Swedish. In a letter he stated that he would reply in Swedish “so that it does not take five minutes to write out each word.” This was the era in which authors, composers, scientists, historians were seeking their communities’ identities through folk tales and music. The hero of these tales is Lemminkainen. The 4 legends are: Leminkainen and the Maidens of the Island, the hero lands on an island with many young women all of whom he seduces. Then the island’s men return and the hero must leave; The Swan of Tuonela, the Swan swims in the waters of Tuonela, the place of the dead; Lemminkainen in Tuonela, the hero is taken into the water and killed. His mother comes to Tuonela to bring him home and give him life; Lemminkainen’s Return, the hero’s mother brings him home, puts the pieces together with special honey, and he is whole. He goes to Pohjola for revenge, but the mistress of Pohjola puts frost over the water, his boat, and all his crew. The hero keeps the Frost away, though he and his companion have to go home by walking on the ice. Some of the instants remind one of Ulysses’ adventures and other creatures which might do him in. The music is beautiful. Sibelius began the parts of the Legends in 1893, but started over. He made a new work of the Swan of Tuonela. He revised it in 1939; the 4 pieces were published in 1954. Each legend has its own environment in sound. The Swan of Tuonela has a sad English horn over the strings. There are 17 parts. The third and fourth ending display the battles, struggles, and homeward travel. Without the story, it is still deeply moving and beautiful. Sibelius reaches into the rhythms of the epic poetry and the sounds of language turned into gorgeous music.

Please note: Photos are by Brittany Hosea-Small by courtesy of SF Symphony. Quotation from Sibelius is taken from the SF Symphony program notes found by Alicia Mastromonaco.

Photos by Brittany Hosea-Small, by courtesy of SF Symphony

ITZHAK PERLMAN: SUBLIME & MORE THAN PERFECT

Itzhak Perlman is “the reigning virtuoso of the violin.” His playing is perfect, and his joy of life is playful, too. He comes to Davies Symphony Hall, San Francisco, usually once a season; but his appearance is not always a recital. On November 4, 2025, it was just him, the violin, his pianist, Rohan de Silva, and the piano. It was a performance in which every note was the best of every note. His playing reminds his audience to treasure each moment.

Itzhak Perlman

He offered three pieces: Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart’s Violin Sonata in G major, K.301 (1778), Cesar Franck’s Violin Sonata in A major (1886), and Antonin Dvorak’s Violin Sonatina in G major, Opus 100 (1893). Mozart’s Violin Sonata was a delight. The music has a special place in history. In the past, the violin did not have as much music to play or presence as the piano. Mozart changed this. When he was 22 years old, he wrote five violin sonatas in Mannheim, published them in Paris, and found success. In the first movement, Allegro con spirito, each of the instruments play together, collaborate, or even pluck notes from the other instrument’s harmony. They fit together.The second movement, Allegro, is a Rondo with a rondo’s repetitions. The music is delicious; we are happy to have Mozart come close to repeat while making key changes and gracious decor.

It seems that Cesar Franck’s family, especially his father, held him back from his ability in music. He was allowed to study at the Paris Conservatory. He was good in piano and composition, but not considered brilliant. He returned to his home in Belgium and became an organist and teacher. He married against his father’s permission. That brought him out of his shell, but his bride was as controlling as his father. In 1872, he was promoted to the professorship of the organ at the Paris Conservatory. He felt the new status, and it gave him a chance to take hold of his own music. His students included successful composers such as d’Indy and Chausson. Franck reached into new directions in his compositions; his students may have picked up his discoveries. Conservatory colleagues were taken aback by the freedom Franck developed and what might be an assault on tradition. The works he wrote in the last decade of his life are full of imagination and sensuality. In the Violin Sonata in A major, he explored new techniques and musical romanticism. There is a cyclical theme that winds through all four movements. Virtuosic music, deeply Romantic, lyrical; its sounds are original. The Recitativo-fantasia, the third movement, makes order of a different order. Then, in the fourth movement, Allegretto poco mosso, the listener hears and feels oneself flinging self and emotion into the wild.

Antonin Dvorak, composer, (1841 – 1893)

The story of Dvorak spending time in America is probably well known. Jeannette Meyers Thurber wanted to start a conservatory. She wanted to include women, disabled, and minority students. The National Conservatory of Music of America began in 1885. Ms Meyers Thurber wanted to receive national funding. It did not come through. She wisely sought an internationally known musician; Dvorak became the director in 1892 and left in 1895. Dvorak told his publisher that the Sonatina in G major, Opus 100 was written in part so that young people “(dedicated to my two children)” and “adults, should be able to converse with it.” As Scott Foglesong wrote, it “was stripped of Wagnerian complexities,” though it kept Classical traditions of sonatas and rondo. He included in this Sonatina, and other compositions, America’s native music including African American and Native American. The Sonatina includes folk themes and rhythms. Itzhak Perlman’s incredibly fast playing stood out and became faster and faster, but without losing the model of folk dancing. It would have to be light footed folk doing the jumps and turns. Fast jumps and turns. Perlman, the master of Franck’s attraction by lyrical music reaching out for a slow embrace, Itzhak Perlman is also the virtuoso of Dvorak’s intercultural American music.

The performers presented the wonderful ritual of Perlman & De Silva encores. After many bows, the three persons required for the encores return. The violinist, the pianist, and the page turning woman who returned to the stage carrying a stack of music books. The straight forward fiddling around deciding which piece Itzhak Perlman would play is hysterical. They think maybe this one but no, they might do this other one. Here is the list of encores on Nov. 4, 2025.

Fritz Kreisler – Liebesfreud
Christoph Gluck – “Melodie” from “Orfeo ed Euridice”
Fritz Kreisler – Tambourin Chinois
Piotr Ilyich Tchaikovsky – Chant sans paroles
Piotr Ilyich Tchaikovsky – Humoresque
John Williams – Theme from Schindler’s List

Each one was superb music. We do not get to hear enough of Kreisler. The encores and Perlman humor are unique. And then, he played Schindler’s List to remind us that music and life are real.

If you have the opportunity, like maybe Itzhak Perlman is performing less than 500 miles away, get the ticket. Rohan De Silva, pianist, is the tops. Together, they are perfect partners.

and, CELEBRATE ITZHAK PERLMAN’S 80TH BIRTHDAY!!!

Higgins, Grieg, Tchaikovsky: Never Old

The San Francisco Symphony presented an extraordinary concert at Davies Symphony Hall, October 3-5. Is it possible that music lovers love to critique the music that we love? Maybe it is just Opera fans who talk about old war horses. The program sizzled opening with a new piece by Timothy Higgins, Principal Trombone in the SFS since 2008. He has left the SFS to become the Principal Trombone in the Chicago Symphony.

Market Street, 1920s, had its world premiere this weekend. It has two elements for the music. Higgins described the tone of the music fitting the black and white pictures of SF streets with cars traveling around Market Street. There is also an argument. Two individuals take up opposite sides in SF’s issues, especially about alcohol. SF police, it is said, were told to look away from speakeasies and bootleggers. San Francisco’s history includes resistance to the federal government’s decisions. The music also represents “academic” leaning music and the more popular. There are jazz passages that give the music a rhythmic kick. There is no solution to these arguments. Sometime arguing is an athletic sport. This eight minute piece was a happy introduction to the evening. Well done, Tim Higgins. Photo: Tim Higgins talks about his premiere work.

The San Francisco Symphony with Gustavo Gimeno, conductor, and Javier Perianes, piano, perform Timothy Higgins’ “Market Street, 1920s” a SF Symphony Commission and World Premiere, Edvard Grieg’s “Piano Concerto,” and Piotr Ilyich Tchaikovsky’s “Symphony No.5.” At Davies Symphony Hall on Friday night, October 3, 2025.Photo by Stefan Cohen

Edvard Grieg (1843 – 1907) He composed his magnificent Piano Concerto in A minor, Opus 16, in 1868. The first time I heard it, I was surprised that it was Grieg’s work. I had heard his music that was influenced by Norwegian folk music. This is something completely different. It is a wonderful Concerto. The opening of the music, Allegro molto moderato, seems so natural that every note is where it has to be. It shows its lyrical side as well as the strength of the music in its cadenza. The second movement, Adagio, has amazing delicacy. The notes have no weight. I hear them as though it is gentle snow falling. No clumps, no ice, just the lovely snow flakes. I know they are each made of unique designs even though I cannot see their always different presence. The final movement, Allegro moderato molto e marcato, is also something unusual but perfectly the right music. Grieg’s interest in Norwegian folk music shows its character. The movement has the music equivalent of a play within a play. The movement creates another concerto within this movement. Grieg plays on with another cadenza and a false exit. Very new and something to surprise one’s ears. The rest of this mini-me concerto begins slowly, but Grieg has other directions to fulfill this brilliant concert: lots of violins and trumpets. The musical marriage made with two so unlike instruments lifts the concerto and thrills the audience. The soloist was Javier Perianes. He has performed in most venues you can think of around the world. He records for Harmonia Mundi. His performance was exactly right just as every note was the right note. Perianes treated Grieg right just as he deserved. Pianist Javier Perianes photo below. Photo by Stefan Cohen

Piotr Ilyich Tchaikovsky (1840 – 1893) The Symphony No. 5 in E minor, Opus 64, was created in 1888. This has been a beloved, moving symphony since it premiered. In the 1890s, it was attacked for being “ultra-modern” and even for Tchaikovsky’s ancestry. “while in the last movement, the composer’s Calmuck blood got the better of him, and slaughter, dire and bloody swept across the storm-driven score.” Tchaikovsky was not related to this ethnic group in Russia which was actually Buddhist. Fortunately, the composer overcame a depressive attitude toward the 5th Symphony which he had loved as much as its audiences loved it. There are several themes that appear more than once throughout the symphony. It begins with Andante-allegro con anima. It seems to be dark with its clarinets, but Tchaikovsky lets a lovely waltz interrupt the unhappy theme. The end of the first movement has a rough feeling. Andante cantabile, con alcuna licenza, the second movement, truly moves onward with a charming attitude, but the theme in the first movement invades the second movement. The third movement, Valse: Allegro moderato, dances its way to sunshine and no dark clouds. The signal for the end is the theme from the first movement moving into the springy waltz. The closing movement seems to know how to tame the first movement’s theme. It takes away its threatening just when the finale begins a march rhythm that sets the music into a serious drama. The ending is triumphant. It is a sunny day. Photo below Conductor Gustavo Gimeno, photo by Stefan Cohen

Conductor Gustavo Gimeno led the orchestra to a great performance. He has a graceful way of conducting and is totally in the music. His presence in the music also helped produce excellent performances by all the musicians with solos or featuring of their sections. It was a magnificent evening.

HOFESH SHECHTER on the RED CARPET

There was great excitement for the Red Carpet, the new dance from choreographer Hofesh Shechter. “For me, a red carpet first evokes thoughts of glamour.” However, the movements and appearances of the dancers are not glamorous. The choreographer also describes it as “grotesque.” Both are fitting. The major patron of the Paris Opera is Chanel. The costume designs come from CHANEL, and the dancers are from the Paris Opera Ballet. Shechter juxtaposes glam and art; which does the audience want most? Is the glam a sham? The dancers roll their bodies, step over each other, drag themselves or others. They form a circle around the stage with arms stretched high or arms bent in running position. This is more like a mosh pit; dancers are on top of each other or using their arms to create a form. The music came from live musicians who were on the stage but not continually seen.

I wonder whether Shechter is ironic as he speaks about glam vs. art. Can they be the same? Is he noticing what it takes to achieve glam or art? One can certainly do what is claimed to be glam art. Shechter says, “In contemporary dance, the stage is filled with references and expectations…I don’t believe the role of dance is to provide solutions. A ballet must remain open, unresolved; that’s its beauty.”

Paris Opera Ballet’s North American Premiere of Red Carpet by Hofesh Shechter at Cal Performance Zellerbach Hall, photo credit: Chris Hardy

Shechter may have noticed the use of the arms in Alvin Ailey’s Company. In Revelations, the dancers are in a sunburst shape with different sets of arms opening with start-stop rhythm. Probably the first dancer/choreographer to gather dancers in that shape and set their arms opening was Anna Sokolow. “Her choreography of intertwining groups with reaching arms influenced Alvin Ailey (who danced in her Poem) and Jerome Robbins.” Poem was Sokolow’s taboo challenging dance in which dancers touched each other: “her dancers actually touched, sometimes in what could be homosexual embraces.”* I am not suggesting his movements were taken from other choreographers, but visual material lives on. In Red Carpet, the movements seem to be decadent folk dance or natural movements which are alien to technique, ballet or contemporary technique, yet it takes some training to let go. Crawl. Bend over with your back parallel to the floor. Curiously, there were no leaps. Occasionally sort of a hop on one foot with the other leg bent at the knee. There was also a certain version of belly dancing.

Paris Opera Ballet’s North American Premiere of Red Carpet by Hofesh Shechter at Cal Performance Zellerbach Hall, photo credit: Chris Hardy

Contemporary dance traditionally undid traditions, but there is danger in not doing, let’s say Cunningham work, when it reigned and earned grants for the followers. Shechter’s Red Carpet may introduce new ways to produce dance. The first part of Red Carpet showed the dancers in Chanel costumes; someone seated near me commented that they looked like outfits in a resale shop. Being supported by Chanel gives the event glam, but is that superficial pretending? I think that Shechter knew what he is doing. The dancers perform in groups; often it is all thirteen dancers or a group of four or five. I cannot remember more than one or two times when a dancer stood apart from the group, but he will soon be absorbed by the rest. There is also pas de deux dancing, but it happens within the entire group. The costumes make different presences in which the audience can see them, but they are still in the group. Sometimes they are doing the same movements as others or expose their different movements within the group. One costume was a lacy gown with one part of the skirt hanging like a short column half in front of the legs and the other half missing. There was a black dress which looks sequined from a distance. It also had missing spaces of dress.

Paris Opera Ballet’s North American Premiere of Red Carpet by Hofesh Shechter at Cal Performance Zellerbach Hall, photo credit: Chris Hardy

The second half of Red Carpet alters the vision. The dancers are in colored white-flesh tights and body covers more or less. Some have Bermuda shorts length; others more. In this part of the dance, a group of 5 work on the floor rolling and reaching. There seems to be communication through the bodies though they are not always connected to others. There were a few times when it seemed to me they looked like Grecian figures on their vases. Were these dancers armed or simply digging into life? As Shechter said, solutions are not to be found

Paris Opera Ballet’s North American Premiere of Red Carpet by Hofesh Shechter at Cal Performance Zellerbach Hall

One special performer was the giant chandelier. It went up very high and also lowered to just above the stage floor. It did not crash like its cousin the chandelier in The Phantom of the Opera, but it had character. The Phantom’s chandelier was a replica of the chandelier of the Paris Opera House. It would not dare to crash upon the thirteen dancers from the Paris Opera Ballet.

The excitement continued throughout the performance. Red Carpet will be remembered as we await the next Shechter production.

*The Hedgehog, The International Arts Review, Vol. 5, No. 1, November, 2010) pp 4-5.

Gershwin & Ellington: More Please!

September 18, Davies Symphony Hall – It was a night for great, new music. Each of the selections were new in their own way. Composer Carlos Simon’s piece The Block (2018) opened the program with tremendous energy. Simon’s inspiration was the series of six paintings by Romare Bearden (1911 – 1988). These paintings are in the Metropolitan Museum, NYC. I have seen these paintings. They present the variety of shops, church, nightclub all on the same block in Harlem. The sites in the paintings have unique atmosphere, architecture, sizes, shapes, and especially human interaction and emotion brought out by the way humans express themselves and the buildings. The Block is six minutes long; those minutes include music that comes from the lives and stories that reach out to us from the street of this very specific, although also universal, street. It wowed us. Simon is Composer in Residence at the Kennedy Center, and the inaugural Boston Symphony Composer Chair among other honors. I think The Block will lead all of the audience to seek more of Carlos Simon’s work.

George Gershwin’s Piano Concerto in F ( composed 1928) is often described as his best of his major works, Rhapsody in Blue, An American in Paris, Porgy and Bess, but it is not offered very often. I have heard bits of it, but never the whole Concerto and never in person. It was a Great Experience. Helene Grimaud is a fabulous soloist. Perhaps she was in touch with Gershwin himself, not imitating but surely she connected with every bit of her power and understanding — and even a bit of Grimaud is over the top masterful. The SF Symphony played brilliantly, and the guest conductor, James Gaffigan, made every note a thrill. It was an amazing performance. The first performance of the Concerto in F performed in San Francisco was January, 1937, the conductor was Pierre Monteux with Gershwin himself as the soloist. To grade Gershwin as a pianist, there is this quote from the conductor, Serge Koussevitzky, “As I watched him, I caught myself thinking, in a dream state, that this was a delusion, the enchantment of this extraordinary being was too great to be real.”

The San Francisco Symphony with James Gaffigan, Conductor, and Hélène Grimaud, Piano, in performance of Carlos Simon’s “The Block,” George Gershwin’s “Piano Concerto in F” and “An American in Paris,” and Duke Ellington’s “Harlem.” At Davies Symphony Hall on Thursday night, September 18, 2025. Photo: Stefan Cohen

The fantastic first movement of the Concerto begins with colors rising up with what was called a Charleston groove. The piano does not take time for its dreamy entrance until the snare drum introduces her. There is melody possessed by the symphony and the pianist. The pianist modifies the magic until it creates a blazing ending. The next movement was slow and bluesy. It has a pedestrian rhythm – pedestrian as in walking, not pedestrian as ordinary – and takes on a teasing, happy attitude. Through the Concerto I noticed tiny, blank moments, seeming like the white spaces of a Japanese print. The white spaces – very, very brief – are part of the rhythms. The concertmaster, Alexander Barantschik, sails into a playful, yet gentle solo. Gershwin describes the closing movement. “The final movement reverts to the style of the first. It is an orgy of rhythms, starting violently and keeping to the same pace throughout.” The movement allows the orchestra to trick the listeners with a fake exit, but it comes back with a mind-opening meeting of the world’s non-stoppable rhythms. Helene Grimaud gave the audience an encore: Brahms’ Intermezzo in Bflat minor, Op117, #2. It was gorgeous. If possible, the audience would still be applauding now.

An American in Paris, composed in 1928, has a joyful narration hidden in the various groups of instruments ranging from alto saxophone, tenor saxophone, baritone saxophone, percussion including small tom-tom, large tom-tom, wood block, xylophone, and taxi horns. Gershwin produced the rhythms of Paris as well as the sounds of Paris. The rhythms of walking, touring, maybe even gawking, keep “the American” absorbing and wondering at the City. Gershwin created his melodic theme on top of other themes. Some sound like the American has explored another neighborhood or he has slowed down because he found romance. Jazz informs the entire piece, especially the blues. This is the time for all the section leaders to play solos and then to pass along the story to the next instrument’s solo, like the trombone passes its melody to strings. Gershwin’s works are invigorated by the moods and rhythms of the varying musical sources. He keeps his life in classical way along with jazz and blues and sometimes the pop songs from Tin Pan Alley, his pop songs. The mixture becomes something else; it is Gershwin’s grasp that music is music.

Duke Ellington’s piece, Harlem (1950), is a central piece of his sound and his vision. His personal elegance and his big band success made him and his music one of the greatest American composers. He passed away, in 1974, too young, but his image lingers as an iconic, American artist. (Although in his lifetime, that “iconic” was not in use.) Arturo Toscanini commissioned the piece for the NBC Symphony. However, it was premiered at an NAACP benefit at the 39th Street Metropolitan Opera House. Ellington described it this way, “a concerto grosso for jazz band and symphony orchestra.” The Duke published the list of places and events of Harlem that appear in Harlem. The list of 20 things include: “1. Pronouncing the word “Harlem,” itemizing its many facets – from downtown to uptown, true and false; 2. 110th Street, heading north through the Spanish neighborhood; 4. Upbeat parade; 5. Jazz spoken in a thousand languages; 7. Girls out of step, but kicking like crazy; 10. Church – we’re even represented in Congress by our man of the church; 11. The sermon; 12. Funeral; 13. Counterpoint of tears. The music encounters the many tunes and types of jazz that Ellington celebrates. There is the saxophone solo that takes pizzicato strings out for a quiet walk, a rhumba that identifies the Spanish neighborhood, bebop calls out crazy particulars from all the sections. Most of all it swings, calmly and tear-it-down swings. He is the band leader and truly great composer who taught several generations that “It Don’t Mean a Thing (If It Ain’t Got That Swing).” While jazz evolved through different ways to play, Duke Ellington got it all and gave us all of it.

Music@Menlo: “6 to 8” from Sextet to Octet

This is the 23rd season of the Music@Menlo, a festival of chamber music and institute for young musicians, Encounters for adults with deep thinking scholars whose talks are entertaining, performances, concerts – just about everything classical music. As an audience member, I began attending their wonderful events in 2003, the first of 23 years of excellence. The founders of the Festival, cellist David Finckel and pianist Wu Han, invented the whole kit-and-kaboodle. Each has stunning talent and expression that places the music somewhere between magic and humanity. Their statement in the season’s program book touches on the magic…” in search of explanations for the miracle of music. This summer is no different, as we focus our lens on a feature of chamber music rarely explored: the magic of chamber music’s rich variety of instrumental combinations, known as ensembles.” This season featured a duo, trios, quartets, a sextet, and an octet.

Johannes Brahms, composer (1833-1897)

Brahms’ String Sextet no. 1, in B-flat major, op. 18, began an era in which he created several chamber pieces which were warmly received. He had motivation to make chamber pieces. Musicians were going toward Liszt’s tendency to write music that had narrative characteristics. Brahms preferred music which was about music and did not suggest spoken thoughts. He decided that chamber music could be the vehicle to keep music musical. He and his friend, violinist Joseph Joachim, wrote a “manifesto” about two paths for composing. He wrote the String Sextet; he had found the key to more abstract and less programmatic compositions.

Violinists Arnaud Sussmann, Richard Lin play Brahms’ String Sextet no. 1 in B-flat major, op. 18

The six instruments were played by Arnaud Sussmann, Richard Lin, violins; David Finckel, Clive Greensmith, cellos; Tien-Hsin Cindy Wu, Masumi Rostad, violas. The Allegro ma non troppo movement opens with a solo cello backed by the other cello and one viola. The Andante, ma moderato movement is a theme and variation style. Now, the viola moves into the music that had been the cello’s, and the theme comes back in the violin. In the Scherzo: Allegro molto, Brahms uses syncopation. The whole movement moves with rhythmic feats. The listener might begin hearing a “mild” rhythm that then speeds up the tempo. Brahms does not use hemiola, which shows up in other works. The accents in the music make it sound as though music is in twos and threes rhythms simultaneously. The music evolves into a proud and courtly dance that speeds up a lot, as though those proud and courtly dancers had put something in the punch. The Rondo: Poco allegretto e grazioso adopts much of the previous movements. The physical making of music is a visual performance letting loose energy and action. He uses pizzicato from the beginning to the end. The musicians are strumming the instruments. The viola goes faster and faster. The ensemble plucks the strings, and, one instrument at a time, returns to bowing. A fast, innovative, happy finale. It was a greatly satisfying experience created by Brahms and gifted to listeners by the six marvelous musicians.

Jorg Widmann, clarinet, composer (born 1973)

Widmann’s 180 beats per minute was written in 1993. He is quoted in the M@M program book. He said, “I don’t want to repeat myself, I don’t want to get bored with myself. That’s why my pieces are often very different aesthetically.” The variety of time signatures are challenging as he changes them, it seems to me, in every measure. He was experimenting the use of the metronome, and he certainly enjoyed the adventure. He also said that “The work makes no claims to be more than the sum of its parts — the sheer enjoyment of rhythm.” The musicians bringing life to the metronome: Julian Rhee, Kristin Lee, violins; Masumi Rosta, viola; Dmitri Atapine, Nicholas Canellakis, Clive Greensmith ; cellos.

Felix Mendelssohn, composer (1809-1847)

It is difficult to write about Mendelssohn’s Octet. It is an amazing work. I rarely use that word “amazing.” The Taj Mahal. A category 5 tornado. Seeing a bird fly. It is complicated. There are 8 musicians, twice so many as a string quartet, but the instruments play as individual musicians more than as the group or sub-group of violins or violas. Mendelssohn dedicated the work to Eduard Rietz, a violinist, who was the elder brother of Mendelssohn’s friend, cellist Julius Rietz. Eduard became very ill, could not continue his music, and passed away. Felix was sad at this loss, however, the Octet has a brilliant, happy existence. Of course, “Felix” is “happy.” In the Allegro Moderato ma con fuoco, the full ensemble is represented. The viola’s playing is syncopated. A violin takes a ride on a series of arpeggios. The music shakes its feathers and returns to the main theme but makes the transition quietly. There is a mystery. A sad Andante is the second movement. Only occasionally, the Octet moves itself into two separate groups, but there is no earthquake fault line between them. The Scherzo: Allegro leggierissimo introduces still another approach. The eight become one playing more quietly together. It could be like a play when everyone is talking. They say peas-and-carrots, peas-and-carrots repeatedly and it comes out sounding like they are sharing gossip or looking for parking. However, there is no narrative here. Every note has been just right. Each of the movements are nothing anyone else has done. This extraordinary, great, great piece closes with a Presto. The cello opens the movement with an extraordinarily difficult passage. The second cellist must move his arms like a quick athlete as the music reflects perpetual motion. It is a thrilling, memorable, happy ending. The cast played out their hearts and rhythms with precision. Wonderful. Violins: Benjamin Beilman, Jessica Lee, Erin Keefe, Julian Rhee. Violas: Masumi Rostad, Tien-Hsin Cindy Wu; Cellos: Nicholas Canellakis, Clive Greensmith.

Sibelius’ #7: Carries Us Away

Davies Symphony Hall, San Francisco, June 8, 2025 Sibelius and Salonen made a great combination. Esa-Pekka Salonen conducted Jean Sibelius’ Symphony No. 7 in C Major, Opus 105. It was Sibelius’ last symphony; he lived until 1957, but no longer composed symphonies. He had said what he wanted to say. Except one more great tone poem, Tapiola, he stopped. He had done it. The 7th Symphony is a strange and powerful voice. After listening to it, what came to my mind was love. Love in the broadest, most extensive, personal and universal reality added up to that. It was a unified love of which we are a part.

Jean Sibelius, composer (1865 – 1957) born and lived in Finland

Some time ago, Michael Steinberg, the glorious author of program notes, told me that Sibelius’ No. 7 was the great symphony of the 20th century, even though it was composed in 1924, very early for a century of music. This performance was my first time hearing it. When the music ended and the applause for the orchestra, the conductor, and especially the composer, I wanted them to play it all again. It is not an overwhelming, knock you out symphony. It opens with a quiet drum. Its music seems down to earth at the same time it is mysterious. Perhaps the mystery wraps around the down-to-earth part. Sibelius made plans for his final three symphonies beginning in spring of 1918. These symphonies form and continual thought through each one and all. That means that the 5th Symphony began this thought and breath that relates all three. In 1918, he wrote: “The Seventh Symphony. Joy of life, and vitalite with appassionata passages. In three movements-the last a ‘Hellenic Rondo.'” Quoting M. Steinberg, “intensely, frighteningly appassionata music, though not in any sense wild….a musical gesture that should leave a witness bereft of speech and to which one responds with concert-hall applause only in order not to explode.” At the end of the performance of the 7th, that was truly how I felt. Ka-boom!

Although he had planned on 3 movements, this symphony was one movement with different tempi changing without the listener noticing the change until after it happens. The time of the symphony constructs and moves on; Sibelius writes through and about Time. It surrounds us and it is us. That mystery we heard at the beginning became an all covering, all happening effect of our world. The beauty of this symphony is frightening and it is us. The love is bigger than one notices from moment to moment, here, down-to-earth, in sight and sound and time. Yes, please play it again.

Richard Strauss, composer (1864 – 1949) Germany/West Germany

New ways to compose came from early 19th century by Schubert, Liszt, and into the 20th with Richard Strauss. Strauss’ symphonic poems were in that tradition. He may have been inspired by Sibelius’ works. The concert opened with Strauss’ Don Juan, Opus 20; it was composed in 1888-1889. The music is not at all shy about hearing the adventures and disasters of Don Juan in the symphonic poem. Then, continuing the symphonic poem tradition, the program ended with Strauss’ Till Eulenspiegel’s Merry Pranks, Opus 28. I have a memory of this music from 5th grade. The “music lady” came to Maryland Elementary School and played Till Eulenspiegel and later The Moldau, by Bedrich Smetana. She told the class the story of Till the naughty things he did and then the end when he is hanged. It is hard to like this story though the music is very vivid. She wanted us to see the story in the music; I did not want to see that. However, I have always loved The Moldau.

The orchestra played with power and grace. It was their Music Director’s second to last concert. He will lead the SF Symphony and the SF Symphony Chorus, Thursday through Saturday, this week playing Mahler Symphony No. 2. I felt fresh energy from the musicians, and I felt that Maestro Salonen was more relaxed in his directing but also in his own physical movements. The music was simultaneously in his own body as he conducted his orchestra. It is hard to say “good bye” to the Music Director. He made his mark in such a short time, 5 years, and much of that time was taken up with the pandemic. His performances have been memorable, and these recent programs, The Firebird and Sibelius’ Symphony No. 7 will stay in my mind played his way.

Esa-Pekka Salonen Meets the Firebird

May 24, 2025 – San Francisco Symphony at Davies Symphony Hall –

Esa-Pekka Salonen, Music Director of the SF Symphony, led the orchestra through a fascinating program: Chorale, by Magnus Lindberg; Violin Concerto, by Alban Berg; and The Firebird, by Igor Stravinsky. When Maestro Salonen entered the stage, the audience and the musicians stood to applaud him. It was very moving to see him, especially now, with only a few more concerts as the SF Symphony’ Music Director. The performance of The Firebird was an amazing celebration of his leadership.

Magnus Lindberg, composer (Born 1958 in Helsinki) Magnus Lindberg has been friends with Salonen since they were both students at the Sibelius Academy in Helsinki. His compositions can be complex; eventually, the works came to be assisted by a computer program he invented in order to create even higher complexities. Chorale was written in 2002 and premiered in 2002 conducted by Salonen with the Philharmonia Orchestra. It is 6 minutes long, with novel rhythms and inventive use of his instrumentation. Chorale was composed as a “companion piece” for Alban Berg’s Violin Concerto. The basis for the “companion” status is that both works use the Lutheran chorale, It is enough, which was set by Johann Sebastian Bach for his Cantata 60, O eternity, you word of thunder, long before.

Alban Berg, composer (1885 – 1935)

Deep emotion is not something most music lovers would identify with Berg’s works, but this Violin Concerto, written in 1935, has deep sadness in every note. An eighteen year old daughter of friends died from polio. Berg delighted the girl; she was the daughter of Alma Mahler Werfel and the famous architect, Walter Gropius. It is true, her mother was Gustav Mahler’s widow. When the score was finished, Berg wrote “To the Memory of an Angel” on the manuscript. Berg had adopted the 12-tone principles developed by Arnold Schoenberg. As the composition grew, Berg discovered that the opening notes of Bach’s Cantata No. 60 matched the closing four notes of his concerto’s tone row. Here are the words of the Cantata which also inspired Magnus Lindberg Chorale:

It is enough!/Lord, if it pleases you./Unshackle me at last. /My Jesus comes;/I bid the world goodnight./I travel to the heavenly home./I surely travel there in peace,/My troubles left below. It is enough! It is enough!

The Violin Concerto translates Manon Gropius’ pain and struggles into music. The second movement is frightening; one cannot avoid imagining the lovely girl knowing that she was dying. There are two harmonies that put forth the complete 12-tone row from the lowest to the highest. It reaches to three octaves higher. The violin does that, but the other instruments go so low as possible. A tragic event, Berg died of blood poisoning Christmas eve day. This was his only solo concerto. Isabelle Faust, solo violin, played with direct feeling and strength.

Igor Stravinsky, composer (1882 -1971)

Stravinsky’s The Firebird was a fabulous showpiece. Parisians who heard the premiere all reported that it knocked their socks off.
It was composed 1909-1910 and created the fame and style of Stravinsky. Serge Diaghilev, The Magnificent Impresario, with Michel Fokine, dancer-choreographer, the Ballet Russe, made Paris its home. They reached into Russian folk tales and came up with the Firebird and Kashchei the Deathless, a personification of evil. Three well known composers turned down the opportunity to make music for that. Stravinsky, who had only orchestrated Chopin piano pieces for Diaghilev, went for it. At age 27, his career going nowhere, Stravinsky stayed in St. Petersburg and composed. The meetings of Fokine and Stravinsky, improvising movement and music, must have been electric. Much of the music came from Russian folk tunes and, as written by Benjamin Pesetsky for the program notes, “even his harmonic sleights-of-hand and modern orchestrational wizardies don’t stray far from those of Rimsky-Korsakov.” The Firebird was good and the Kashchei was terrible; Stravinsky made happy music that one might be able to hum (for the Firebird) and dark harmonies that were bad (for Kashchei). Why not? The story ballet energized the music; the costumes brought color to the audience’s imagination. Act One brings the Dance of the Firebird. The violins, clarinets, and flutes play for the magical bird. Prince Ivan discovers thirteen princesses. The thirteen ballerinas dance a version of a khorovod, a Russian folkdance in a circle. Kashchei and his cronies kidnap the Prince. Kashchei must dance the Infernal Dance accompanied by timpani, brass, and xylophone. Good will win: the Firebird’s Lullaby, accompanied especially by the bassoon, shows peace can return. There is a wonderful horn solo before the entire orchestra brings powerful goodness. The audience was left to applaud and even shout out. Not quite a year after The Firebird, Stravinsky, having learned that ballet is the way, composed Petrushka using the vast array of percussion, rhythms, harps, everything. Last night’s performance had a glorious ending.