JAN KARSKI: Exhibition on a Great Hero

There is an exhibition about Jan Karski on display at the Veterans Building, in the Trophy Room, 401 Van Ness Ave., San Francisco Civic Center. It is open M-F, 11 a.m. – 5 p.m. Free admission. The last day is May 13. Don’t wait. If you do know about Karski, you will want to see the photos and historical information about this great man. If you have never heard of him, you must take the time to “meet” him at this excellent exhibition. Jan Karski was the nom de guerre of a young, Polish officer in the Polish Home Army, the underground opposition to the Nazi occupation. He was directed to travel, in 1942, at the height of the annihilation, through the war in occupied Europe to tell the leaders of Great Britain and America about what was happening in Poland: mass murders on a scale so enormous no one could imagine it. In order to report honestly, he was smuggled into places where he could observe horrors, the Warsaw Ghetto, Lublin. He traveled to London. He traveled to Washington. No one believed him. Though he met with President Roosevelt and Supreme Court Justice Felix Frankfurter, they did not believe him. No action was taken on the facts he gave the free world. He stayed in Washington, D.C. and taught at Georgetown University for many years.

jan_karski_gu_sfs_ Jan Karski (1914-2000) married Pola Nirenska in 1965. She died tragically in 1992. She was a dancer whose family had been murdered in the Holocaust. In a speech, in 1981, given to American military officers who had liberated the concentration camps, he said that he had failed in his wartime mission, and so “thus I myself became a Jew. And just as my wife’s entire family was wiped out in the ghettos of Poland, in its concentration camps and crematoria–so have all the Jews who were slaughtered become my family. But I am a Christian Jew… I am a practicing Catholic…my faith tells me that the second original sin has been committed by humanity. This sin will haunt humanity to the end. And I want it to be so.”

The Hedgehog’s hat is off to Maureen Mroczek Morris. She has worked on bringing this exhibition to San Francisco for about three years that we know of. Her vision and determination brought together other groups and individuals to introduce Jan Karski, this great hero of all humanity, to San Francisco. We salute Ms Morris and her father, Walter (Mroczek) Morris for making the exhibition possible. Organizing the volunteer docents at the exhibition, connecting with the organizations of Veterans and Polish history and culture, publicizing the event, the list of what it takes to put on the exhibition is very long. We are grateful that she cared enough to make it happen. Here is a list of organizations which have been involved in various ways:

The American Legion War Memorial Commission
The Consulate of the Republic of Poland in Los Angeles
Polam Federal Credit Union
The Polish Club, San Francisco (3040 22nd Street)
The Polish-American Congress, Northern California Division
Polish Combatants Association & AK Veterans
Walter [Mroczek] Morris and Maureen Mroczek Morris
Honorary Polish Consul, Christopher Kerosky
The Polish Arts & Culture Foundation
Tad and Dianne Taube (Taube Family Foundation)

San Francisco Symphony & Pablo Heras-Casado

Pablo Heras-Casado is the young Spanish conductor who seems to be conducting everywhere all the time. He is Principal Conductor of Saint Luke’s, New York, since 2012, and Principal Guest Conductor of Teatro Real, Madrid, since 2014, the year he was named Musical America’s Conductor of the Year. He conducted the San Francisco Symphony three times, April 27 – 29, in an unusual program matching major 20th century composers with a lengthy world premiere work by Mason Bates. The Bates work, Auditorium, was commissioned by the SF Symphony. Adding more electronic interest to the electronica in Auditorium, the April 27 concert attended by the Hedgehogs was the first ever to stream live from a major orchestra to broadcast online worldwide via Facebook Live. It launched at 8:15pm PDT on April 27 on the SFS Facebook page, and will be archived for future viewing. The program included Dance Suite (1923) by Bela Bartok, Auditorium (2016) by Mason Bates, Le Tombeau de Couperin (1919) by Maurice Ravel, Symphony No. 9 in E-flat major, Opus 70(1945), by Dmitri Shostakovich.

The Dance Suite opened the program and was a high point of the performance. It is indeed a suite of five movements, each with multiple rhythms and characters. Bartok made extensive forays into the Hungarian countryside, sometimes with composer and musicologist Zoltan Kodaly, to gather authentic folk tunes. In his Dance Suite, there are contrasting styles which have more Middle Eastern or perhaps more Romanian character. However, he wrote them all himself and did not quote the folk tunes. While one movement might have a riotous force of dancers circling madly, another has the mysterious, nearly otherworldly magic that Bartok could create as though he heard the music of the spheres playing through the star light. The SF Symphony and Maestro Heras-Casado were able to present Bartok’s magic in all its quickness and variety without letting a musical “crack the whip” run away with them with dizzying abandon.

As the streaming event was to begin at 8:15 and Bartok’s Dance Suite is listed in the program as “About 16 minutes,” one must conclude that the Bates piece alone was chosen to be broadcast across the Facebook world. According to the extensive program notes, “Auditorium begins with the premise that an orchestra like a person, can be possessed. The work haunts the SFS with ghostly processed recordings of a Baroque ensemble, with the electronic part comprised entirely of original neo-Baroque music created for the SF Conservatory’s Baroque Ensemble, conducted by Corey Jamason. Essentially it is a work for two orchestras–one live, one dead.” There were definitely sound effects reminiscent of creaky stairs, odd burblings, that dry ice evaporating ssst, and ghostly squeaks which brought to mind the Munsters of mid-century fame. Mr. Bates sat in the back of the orchestra with two laptops on which he produced the sounds. The orchestration included such notions as the playing of a piano key being promptly echoed by the playing of an electronic key.

Ravel’s Le Tombeau de Couperin may have been the most familiar of the diverse works on the program, or at least the most frequently performed. For that reason, it was surprising that this was the point in the concert where the SF Symphony seemed to lose its enthusiasm. The work is made of four movements; each is a specific dance of the French Baroque era such as a Menuet/Minuet and the French folk dance the lively Rigaudon. The SFS had recently returned from an extensive East Coast tour; the conductor had perhaps focused most on the premiere work. One often could not hear the rhythms in the dances or recognize this well-loved work by an important, well-loved composer.

Shostakovich’s Symphony No. 9 fared better. A work of great energy which is the shortest symphony by Shostakovich, it was applauded by the public but reviled by the Soviet government when premiered. The bureaucracy from Stalin on down mostly despised their great composer. He did not write to formula. He presented a perversity to party line which enraged them. Danger followed closely behind Shostakovich throughout his career. This symphony, according to those in charge, should have been an heroic anthem to the Russians whose courage, perseverance, massive sacrifices, and dreadful winter had defeated the Nazis. Instead, it is playful, frisky, almost jokey, but it is a comedy that suggests it is only being funny because the tragedy behind the mask is too enormous and permanent to describe. The SF Symphony responded to Maestro Heras-Casado playing breathlessly like a runaway troika.

HILARY HAHN at SAN FRANCISCO’S DAVIES SYMPHONY HALL

Hilary Hahn, acclaimed violinist, performed solo violin and sonatas with pianist Cory Smythe, Tuesday, April 26, at the SF Symphony’s Davies Hall. The performance was brilliant. Although the Hedgehogs knew about Ms Hahn, seeing and hearing her live is something altogether different and surely placed multiple exclamation marks after comments about her artistry. Ms Hahn has a calm, assured stage presence. Her mastery is so great that the music of the masters she performs can fill the hall without distraction. Her program opened with Sonata in G major, K.379(373a) by Mozart and Sonata no. 3 in C major for Solo Violin, BWV 1005, by J.S. Bach. It would be more than enough to be able to be back in Davies and hear either one all over again. After the intermission, she performed Selections from Six Partitas for Solo Violin by Anton Garcia Abril, commissioned by Ms Hahn; Sonata for Violin and Piano by Aaron Copland; and Blue Curve of the Earth, by Tina Davidson. Ms Hahn created a competition for new encore pieces. Ms Davidson’s Blue Curve...was the winner.

The Mozart Sonata offered gentle, mellow music which was still Mozartian in delight and invention. It opens with an Adagio, a bit of a departure from the Adagio usually coming later in a Sonata, and then picks up with an Allegro of perfect balance. It was a chance to experience the partnership of piano and violin in fiery passages. The second movement, Theme and Variations, presents five variations which suggest that if he had wanted to take the time, Mozart could have written five hundred, each different, fascinating, and surprising as these.

The Bach Sonata is unaccompanied. It was part of a group of sonatas and partitas written between 1717 and 1723, the era in which he also wrote the Brandenburg Concertos, and solo works for keyboard, violin, and ‘cello. Ms Hahn’s performance was a rich, deep experience. The listener could experience the breadth of emotion created through pure music. It was a powerful performance of music which sounds new nearly three hundred years after it was written. One may perceive in it the connection between mind and the earth. Bach knew this profundity and gave it to the world in the abstract reality of his music.

For a musical excursion into the 20th century, Ms Hahn’s choice of Copland’s Sonata for Violin and Piano was wonderful. It had everything one looks for in the great works of this American composer whose life, 1900-1990, just about spanned the century. He is the composer whose music encompassed the heights of classical tradition as well as jazz inspired rhythms and themes that mislead you into thinking they are folk tunes. He does it all in this Sonata. The music never sounds like it was assembled like a salad. He carried all the music within him, assimilated into the great art that Ms Hahn and Mr. Smythe brought to life: vivid, dancing, almost sacred. Ms Hahn’s performance was a sensational evening of great music performed with greatness.

San Francisco Symphony Soars with Schubert and Mahler

Schubert

It is possible that the SF Symphony has played as well as it did on April 9, 2016, on other occasions, but how could they have played better? It was an amazing, wonderful performance with every section playing at the top and San Francisco’s Music Director, Michael Tilson Thomas, conducting. The program itself might be matched for brilliance but hardly bettered: Symphony in B minor, the Unfinished, by Franz Schubert, and Das Lied von der Erde by Gustav Mahler. Written nearly a century apart, the two masterpieces made a powerful, emotion wrenching and heart lifting experience. While Schubert’s Symphony in B Minor is called Unfinished, it does not sound like it lacks anything. There are two movements. The first is enlivened by one of the most beautiful tunes every composed. The frequent short hand for why Schubert is so great is that glorious melodies seemed to well up in him faster than anyone could write them, certainly faster than someone who would live only 31 years (Thirty one years! Turn off the television right now. Do something. Go for a walk in a garden. Read. Listen to Schubert). Behind the beautiful tune there is darkness. Schubert breaks the melody; the suspension creates a dramatic halt of breath. Sadness darts behind the melody. There is a sense of mystery in the sadness. Perhaps Schubert stopped with these two movements because he realized he had said what he wanted to say with this music. Perhaps he could not decide where to go next, maybe because these movements are perfect as they are.

Gustav Mahler received a gift in 1907, the book The Chinese Flute translated into German. The Chinese poems inspired Mahler to write Das LIed von der Erde, The Song of the Earth. The collection includes the work of several poets of the Eighth Century. There are drinking songs, wistful songs longing for love, songs in which the poet tries to accommodate knowledge of human mortality in his delight in nature, such as in The Drinking Song of the Earth’s Sorrow. These beautiful, perceptive, delicate and yet powerful poems reached across the centuries and continents to Mahler’s heart. It was a troubled heart at this time. An avid athlete, he had learned he had a heart ailment which would strictly limit his activities and surely kill him. He had also just lost a daughter, under 5 years old, to diphtheria and scarlet fever.

At this performance, the singers were mezzo-soprano Sasha Cooke and tenor Simon O’Neill. They both performed with power and sensitivity to the poetry. Their performances were a great match to the SF Symphony’s remarkable performance. Mahler’s music engulfed Davies Symphony Hall in love and wonder at life, whole hearted engagement with our earth despite our own limitations. The San Francisco Symphony was scheduled to perform this program at Carnegie Hall, April 14, with the same singers. Surely it was a concert to knock the socks off the New Yorkers. Pictures from top: Franz Schubert, Gustav Mahler, Simon O’Neill, Sasha Cooke.

Houston Dance Salad, Part II, March 26, 2016

The opportunity to return to Houston’s Cullen Theater at the Wortham Theater Center for the closing concert of Dance Salad was one the Hedgehogs did not want to miss. The program offered four dances we had not yet seen as well as five that were certainly worth a second look. Yidam, choreographed by Ihsan Rustem, for NW Dance Project of Portland, OR, achieves the choreographer’s vision of constant motion. The dancers are on the run continually. They fall and are recovered by others. It has elements of Contact Improvisation, the movement method in which dancers play off of each other’s weight and momentum. The dancers can do everything and could laugh off any Decathalon challenge. A striking moment in the dance was the one of stillness: the dancers hold positions in profile to the audience with the lighting showing them in silhouette. Ihsan Rustem was born in London, trained at the Rambert School of Ballet and Contemporary Dance. His work is in repertories including companies in Belgium, Germany, Switzerland, Turkey, the US. Photo: Blaine Truitt Covert.

Black Swan Section is the third part of Beasts, choreographed by Nicolo Fonte for BalletX, Philadelphia. Richard Villaverde danced the role of the Black Swan. Bare chested and wearing a black tutu, he performs a powerful, emotional solo. His movements alternate between the Swan’s classical ballet and movements revealing his desire and perhaps uncertainty to take this role. His performance throughout the dance was both technically excellent and expressive of the Swan’s inner self. Andrea Yorita portrayed the White Swan with power and elegance. Her Swan is offered partnership with Male partner in Black, Zachary Kapeluck, and Male partner in White, Gary W. Jeter, II; both were exceptional dancers and performers. Perhaps she knew she was the other half of The Swan with the Black Swan. She seemed most drawn to him, but she is distracted by dances with the two male partners. In the end, all three exit leaving the Black Swan alone. Photo: Bill Hebert

Faun is a duet choreographed by Sidi Larbi Cherkaoui for the Royal Ballet of Flanders, Antwerp, Belgium. The program notes the piece uses Debussy’s Prelude to the Afternoon of a Faun, and additional, unnamed music by Nitin Sawhney, and mentions Mallarme’s poem and Nijinsky’s Faun. While the program notes that the dance “examines the animalistic nature of human movement,” this viewer could not imagine any animal other than highly trained, physically gifted human animals doing movements like this. The male, Yevgeniy Kolesnyk, is alone and moves all parts of his body in disjointed, jerky movements. He discovers Virginia Hendricksen, the female, who appears to be of his species. One could determine that by her ability to match his movement whether upside down or knotted together. For a while, their movements unite them. It is pleasing to see them side by side, moving identically. At the point when they seem to be united, he turns away. That recalls the ending of Jerome Robbins’ dance of the Faun meeting a beautiful female of his species, Dancera Americana, in a ballet studio. The wild forest dwellers also cannot sustain a relationship. Photo: Marc Haegeman

Four Seasons/Le Quattro Stagioni choreographed by Mauro Astolfi for Spellbound Contemporary Ballet, Rome, Italy, appeared over the three nights of Dance Salad. Spring and Summer, March 24, Autumn, March 25, Winter, March 26. The cube and projections upon it were major performers of the ensemble. In Winter, the dancers creep around the side of the cube which is now tilted onto one edge. They look very cold. Fortunately for the audience, they move to become warmer. Their dancing is very fine even though the cube overshadows them. Snow appears on the side of the cube. A hand and face show up inside the snow swirls. The dancers dance well together, and, as in Autumn, there is no obvious relationship to the idea of winter or to the cube, unless they physically interact with it. The men suspend the women over the cube. Do they disappear inside of it? The lights allow us to see one woman inside the cube. She reaches for those outside. The cube turns upside down; its open bottom is visible. The dancers disappear except for one. Arms reach out from the cube. The remaining dancer sees the cube move toward her. She turns away. It comes again. Like the best ghost stories, this dance inspires the nervous laughter of a dark, cold night. Photo: Marco Bravi

Houston’s Dance Salad is an annual festival. For more information, see www.dancesalad.org Don’t let anyone hold you back. Photo by Amitava Sarkar; Sonia Rodriguez, Piotr Stanczyk, Por Ti, choreographed by Luis Martin Oya, National Ballet of Canada, Toronto, Canada

DANCE SALAD in HOUSTON: Part I, March 25, 2016

What luck to be in Houston while Dance Salad Festival is in progress! Yes, Houston, Texas; you thought it was all about the Bar-B-Que, but it is now about the Salad. The Hedgehogs attended the concert March 25, at the Cullen Theater of Houston’s Wortham Theater Center. Seven dance companies from five different countries presented work in the Festival, including three US premieres and three Houston premieres. While each dance was different from the others, they had one great element in common: fantastic dancers. Strong, supple, able to leap tall buildings in a single bound, these are dancers who are rightfully described as fearless. Trained in classical ballet and a variety of modern techniques, they provided their choreographers endless possibilities for movement. The program was so captivating that we returned on March 26; there will be a Part II of this Post. Founder, producer, and director Nancy Henderek appears to have discovered elements to keep her audience involved, surprised, and even entertained by dance that is serious and occasionally amusing.

Nicolo Fonte, choreographer of Beasts for BalletX, of Philadelphia, is a native New Yorker, studied at the Joffrey, San Francisco, and New York City Ballet Schools, received his BFA in Dance at SUNY, Purchase, and danced with Les Grands Ballets Canadiens, Montreal, and Compania Nacional de Danza, Madrid, until devoting himself to choreography. The two parts of his work, Beasts, shown March 25 were thought provoking. Men’s Section begins with movements much like those of Kurt Joos’s great, Expressionist ballet, The Green Table, brought back to life by the Joffrey Ballet. Men dressed in black dress suits alternate between polite and threatening gestures. However reminiscent of Joos it may be, the dance proceeds in its own way. The dancers’ interactions include specific movements suggesting shooting rifles and four of them lining up while the fifth aims his hand like a gun to execute one. Fonte’s ensemble movements are eye opening. The men are powerful, graceful, dynamic, and, in this dance, doomed. The choreographer builds the tension with the unfolding of individuals out of a group and recovering into another group. It is an anxiety provoking dance resolving into sadness. Men’s Section was followed by Mata Hari section. Women are introduced into the dance; it’s all trouble from the time they enter. One Hedgehog commented that apparently females are scarier than rifles. Costumed in elegant, floor length gowns and pointe shoes, the dance seems to call out “Danger!” Mata Hari is depicted by Chloe Felesina; her prime victim is Daniel Mayo. Mata Hari in this dance embodies attraction too enticing to turn away from although betrayal is assured. Pictures: Men’s Section Photo: Bill Hebert, Mata Hari Section; Photo: Alexander Iziliaev.

Choreographer Luis Martin Oya’s Por Ti was danced by two stellar dancers: Sonia Rodriguez, a native of Toronto, and Piotr Stanczyk, originally from Poland. This is an exquisite pas de deux. Ms Rodriguez’s meltingly, achingly expressive movement shows the depths of emotion which classical ballet can reach. Mr. Stanczyk was noble, full of longing, commanding and commanded by his passions. Choreographer Oya performed the works of leading choreographers such as Ohad Naharin and Mats Ek while dancing in the National Ballet Company of Spain, directed by Nacho Duato. Mr. Stanczyk and Ms Rodriguez are greatly honored dancers with the National Ballet of Canada. Photo: Amitava Sarkar

Marguerite Donlon’s Made in Love: Minutemade, performed by the Ballet of Staatstheater am Gartnerplaz is an entertaining romp through groups, duets, solos, occasional speaking by dancers, and many movement techniques. The style in which the dancers move absolutely every body part that could spasmodically move predominates. The work opens with a woman wearing a kilt and a partner in a colorful folky skirt challenging each other. The partner seems to motivate the woman’s movements by gestures. There are twisting, complicated lifts. The partner dominates, and drops the woman in the kilt. Four men in skirts enter with Irish music accompanying them. They engage in silly versions of folk dance hops. A woman in a black, spangly, open jacket over black bra and dance shorts enters doing barefoot Irish step dancing crossed with ballet. Another couple occupies the floor for its dances. A woman enters and narrates some of her experiences. She recalls being naked on stage twice, maybe three times, but after all, she was in Europe. At some point, the Partner in the opening dance takes his blouse off to reveal he is he and not she. Gender bending costuming is not new but is always eye catching, especially now that the “man bun” is in style. More groups enter and exit, piling on activity that’s hard to keep up with but fascinating. A man in white tunic, white, fitted trousers and a huge white tulle ruff–could it be an actual tutu?–around his neck enters and intones Shakespeare: “Love is merely a madness.” This viewer especially enjoyed the sections in which two dancers communicated with each other through dance gestures and one in which the whole cast of twelve kneeled onstage in a line and danced out a rhythm using hands and arms pounding the stage floor and imitating with their hands what feet and legs would do if they were standing to dance. In the end, only the clown in white is left. He is upstage center. Watching for a clue from him as to what it all means proves futile; he does not know either. Photo: Marie-Laure Briane

Spellbound Contemporary Ballet of Rome, Italy, performed L’Autunno/Autumn a movement from Le Quattro Stagioni/The Four Seasons choreographed by Mauro Astolfi. His works have been set on many companies in Europe, the US and Canada. In The Four Seasons, he uses the classic Vivaldi score and music by contemporary composer Luca Salvadori. The dancers entered and exited from a large box on stage which had a window for them to move through. Images of falling leaves and bare tree shapes were projected on the walls of the cube which might be a house providing safety or a constant in the midst of change. It was a lovely use of media which can become clunky and distracting even though it has a siren’s call of timeliness to choreographers and stage designers. When they were not interacting with the cube, the dancers’ movements did not obviously reflect an autumn theme, but their use of space was always in the realm of the cube. Photo: Marco Bravi

Ballet of Staatstheater am Gartnerplatz returned with Versus Standard choreographed by Jacopo Godani. A sextet that never hits “pause,” it is a high energy, all jumping, all falling, all confronting and all competing work. It claims the choreographic territory that wants movement layered on movement continuously, and these amazing dancers are exactly the ones to show that they can do it. This Hedgehog was initially misled by seeing their yellow tee shirts with black trim and being reminded of Captain Kirk’s uniform in Star Trek. This was totally wrong. The dancers do it all; their movement does not need a theme. Seeing it again on March 26 was an opportunity to read the program note, absorb the notion of team sport, especially soccer, as an inspiration, but in truth it seemed to be all about the movement itself. Photo: Marie-Laure Briane

Fall, choreographed by Sidi Larbi Cherkaoui for the Royal Ballet of Flanders, of Antwerp, Belgium, is a lush dance for nine gorgeous dancers. To watch the falls, lifts, rolling, sweeping, levitating movements takes one’s breath in the way that giving in to being a human buoy in waves could do. The lifts are complex and sometimes look dangerous, yet the dancers keep breathing, soaring and releasing back into their partners or the floor. The music is drawn from three pieces by Arvo Part: Fratres, Spiegel im Spiegel, and Orient & Occident. Fall opens with a single dancer. He lifts himself and falls, walks on his barefoot toes, falls and lifts more until he is met by a group of falling, rolling men. As the dance grows by each circle of movement leading into another, there is a change in its feeling with two powerful duets. The first is distinguished especially by extraordinary lifts. The female dancer almost turns herself inside out; it becomes hard to find “front.” The second matches a strong male and female dancer in movements of balance and support. The female dancer ends alone on stage facing away from the audience standing in fifth position, legs crossed from the hips down to feet that overlap and cross. It is a moment of stasis, a peaceful suspension in place. Photo: Filip Van Roe

When a ballerina comes down the aisle dressed in classical tutu gear, wearing glasses and carrying a handbag, the audience knows that Le Grand Pas de Deux will be something completely different. Choreographed by Christian Spuck and performed by Alicia Amatriain and Jason Reilly, it is set to the comical music of the Overture from The Thieving Magpie by Rossini. Ms Amatrian is originally from Spain; Mr. Reilly is Canadian; both are greatly acclaimed dancers with Germany’s Stuttgart Ballet. They performed the spoof of a classical pas de deux with finesse, avoiding too much heavy slap stick, even when Ms Amatriain goes skidding across the floor on her stomach or tries to do her turns and balances with the handbag briefly in her mouth. Choreographer Spuck allows them to show they can do the real thing: she whips around in multiple fouettes; he turns with one leg in second position, lifted straight out from his hip and held there as he turns repeatedly. They added a touch of glamour and welcome humor to a night exploring the possibilities of dance. At top photo:Fall: Filip Van Roe Watch the Livelyblog for Dance Salad, Part II. It will include Yidam, by Ihsan Rustem, NW Dance Project; Black Swan Section, by Nicolo Fonte, BalletX; Faun, by Sidi Larbi Cherkaoui, Royal Ballet of Flanders; L’verno/Winter, by Mauro Astolfi, Spellbound Contemporary Ballet. AND, AESTHETIC OBSERVATIONS: What’s Happening in Dance?

Zukerman Plays Elgar & Mozart with SF Symphony

Pinchas Zukerman conducted and played violin with the San Francisco Symphony in a beautiful performance of Elgar’s Serenade in E minor for Strings, Opus 20 (written in 1893), Mozart’s Symphony No. 39 in E flat major, K.543 (1788), and Mozart’s Haffner Serenade, K. 250 (248b) (1776), Sunday, February 14, 2016. It was the right concert for a day of love. Maestro Zukerman plays with purity and sweetness. It’s not the sweetness of the candy Valentine, but of the true heart of music.

Sir Edward Elgar’s Serenade is said to be his “breakthrough” composition. He came from a poor family and taught himself how to create with his musical gifts. In the Serenade one may sense the depth of feeling expressed with gentle power and understanding in his later, better known works, but that might be just because we do know those other works. The Serenade was turned down by the publisher who later succeeded by publishing those later works. Concertmaster Alexander Barantschik had wonderful moments with his violin the solo voice. The second movement, Larghetto, is an awakening; gentle as a cloud, the music floats us up to the perfect balance in the Allegretto finale. Bravo to Barantschik, the Symphony and Maestro Zukerman for handling this Serenade with unified, careful energy that let the music live.

Mozart’s Symphony No.39 is one of his last three symphonies. No. 41, “Jupiter,” was the final one. While this masterpiece fascinates us with its complexity and beauty, Mozart seems to have written it and the other two in just a bit more than two months. His biography shows that at the same time he was composing additional music, teaching, and taking care of his wife who was very ill. Oh, and he moved apartments, too. And he was desperate for money. These circumstances make one wonder at the super human capacities of this composer. Great music leaped from his brow like Athena from that of Zeus. It is possible that Mozart never heard Symphony No. 39 performed. We who are Mozart’s beneficiaries must take the opportunity to hear it. To hear it played so well as the SF Symphony and Maestro Zukerman played it is to celebrate the variety of mood, rhythm, structures possible for a great human to create. Full of beauty, it is playful, serious, witty, lyrical, and full of dance. The Minuet of the third movement sounds like “rough mechanicals” in Arden Forest. It is all there. Look for it and enjoy every note.

Mozart created the Haffner Serenade for the wedding of Marie Elisabeth Haffner, daughter and sister of his family friends. He wrote more than an entertainment or “occasional” piece by composing eight movements. In this performance, the SFS and Pinchas Zukerman, violin soloist and conductor, performed four. It was a stunning, brilliant performance. Maestro Zukerman wastes no time; when he conducted the Elgar and Symphony No.39, he walked onto the platform and immediately began the music. As violin soloist, he also turns all his attention to the music. That is what he is there for. He is handsome, brilliant, quietly charismatic; the audience was learning from him about music throughout the program. When it ended, the entire house refused to believe it was over. They had been drawn into his way of presenting great music and did not want it to end. After at least six curtain calls, he asked the audience to sing along as he played Brahms’ Lullaby. Everyone sang. Pinchas Zukerman said, “until next time,” and was gone. No one rushed out. Everyone wanted to wrap themselves in the music again. The Haffner Serenade is available with Pinchas Zukerman conducting the LA Philharmonic on Sony Classical. His recording of Brahms’s Symphony No. 4 and Double Concerto with the National Arts Centre Orchestra of Ottawa and ‘cellist Amanda Forsyth appears this year. MORE MOZART: SFS Conductor Laureate, Herbert Blomstedt conducts an all Mozart program with the SFSymphony, March 2-5, 2016.

Pierre Bonnard at Legion of Honor, San Francisco

Painting Arcadia is the title of a landmark exhibition of works by French artist, Pierre Bonnard, who lived 1867-1947. The 75 works on display make a gorgeous show. It will be at the Legion of Honor, San Francisco, until May 15. Hedgehog readers should go very soon so that they will have time to go back and see it all again. Oddly, there has been controversy about the title. Should it really be called “Arcardia?” Aren’t there dark notes mixed in with all the sunshine? If he is a great artist, surely he could not be so superficial as to be painting Arcadia? This viewer comes down on the side of the correctness of the title. Arcadia was a mountainous region of ancient Greece whose populace was known for being contented in their simple, pastoral life. The word has come to mean anyplace, real or fictional that offers a peaceful life. Right, it’s not Painting Olympus; we are looking at beauty in ordinary, middle class life. The world near Bonnard was filled with women, croquet players, cats, actually quite a lot of cats. It is a world of humans and so could not possibly be without its dark notes, but they are dark notes within a sunlit world.

Handsome and intelligent, Bonnard could have done well as a lawyer and satisfied his father. He painted instead. In the early years of his career, he identified as part of the self-named Nabis. Influenced by Paul Gauguin, the Nabis found their subjects in everyday life and favored brilliant color. Their title, Nabi, is Hebrew for Prophet. Bonnard was deeply interested in the Japanese prints which made their first appearances in France while he was beginning his work. Their impact shows up in his flattened perspective and planes of color. The cats reflect, if not an influence of the Japanese artists, then agreement on interesting shapes and movement. Cats and dogs, indulged with treats and taken along on picnics, were an essential part of the life represented by Bonnard and also offered extraordinary liveliness and character to his depiction of breakfast tables and living rooms. His interest in these settings is for their resources as design not for a sociological study. A woman’s blouse matches the design of the wall paper behind her. Part of the whole picture could have the impact of an abstract design even though there are recognizable individuals, chocolate, biscuits.

The overall impression from this writer’s first visit? Color. Bonnard’s world either was full of intense yellows, pink, and the deep, heavy green of summer, or this was the part of his world he chose to celebrate and honor forever. It is a world of white cats stretching on breakfast tables, choosing to pose in the exact spot where their ideal, feline forms will be highlighted by the well lit back drop of the mistress’s checked blouse. The painter’s lover relaxes on a bed, comfortable in her nude body and happily playing with her cats on the bed. A man, we assume Bonnard, stands to one side. Also nude, he is separated from woman, bed, and the happy encounter with the cats by a curtain. The onlooker does not know if he is arriving or departing. His strong vertical self balances the design with the roughly circular pattern made by the woman and the cats. We are allowed to look onto this intimate moment. The man is slightly in a shadow; the woman, looking downward at the cats, is in a warm though not bright light.

Yes, this is Arcadia. Our real world, so full of light, the color yellow, the leafy summer green, dogs, cats, and time for love; what else could it be. Misia plays the piano. Madame lets her cat lick the chocolate off her spoon. Each breath a moment in what may as well be paradise. From June, 2010 to Jan., 2011, San Francisco hosted two extensive, grand shows of French Impressionist art on loan from the Musee d’Orsay, Paris. A surprise star of the show was the collection of works by Pierre Bonnard. The current exhibition offers a unique opportunity to see Bonnard through his life time works. Bay Area museum goers and the many visitors from everywhere else owe Diane B. Wilsey, President of the Board of Trustees, and the late John Buchanan, former Director, a heartfelt, “Merci millefois.” pictures from top: photo of P. Bonnard; The White Cat, 1894; Self-Portrait, young; Woman and Cat, 1912; Self-Portrait, older.

Ax & Perlman: Dynamic Duo of Music in San Francisco

IPerlman EmAxjpeg Emanuel Ax, piano, and Itzhak Perlman, violin, performing together at San Francisco’s Davies Symphony Hall, Jan. 18, 2016, was exactly what one would expect: superlative beyond the same old superlatives. These are two of the greatest musicians currently on our planet. We are lucky to be in the world at the same time as they are. Although the quality of the performance was so great as one might expect, their program was far from anything “usual.” They performed Sonata in C major, K. 296, by Mozart; Sonata No. 1 in A major, Opus 13, by Faure; and Sonata in E-flat major, Opus 18 by Richard Strauss. These are not familiar selections. The listener was rewarded with new expressions, colors, and musical emotions.There was also a touching, dramatic presence to the musicians’ partnership. When they entered the Davies stage, Mr. Ax seemed to hold back to defer to Mr. Perlman, but once they were positioned to play, their own personalities were not on show. It was all about great music.

mozart-kraft-1819-150x150 The Mozart selection, Sonata in C maj., K.296, was brilliant with bright, jewel-like colors and a perfection of partnership between piano and violin. It has Mozart’s brilliance in the sense of fantastic, playful wit, as well. The surprise was the satisfying expressiveness that came with Mozart’s brilliance and the musicians’ embodiment of the quick, starry music.

Gabriel Faure (1845-1924)wrote Sonata No. 1 in A major, Opus 13, in 1876. He was well on his way to his long and great career yet still in early days. The Sonata has a seductive beauty which captures the listener like the course of a river carrying a boat along. There is passion and also hesitation; the Sonata has a character all its own. It is certainly a work that called upon the virtuoso musicians to unleash their own powers which they did magnificently both in partnering the two instruments and allowing the instruments to follow their own ways.

Richard Strauss (1864-1949)was dedicated to creating chamber music early in his work. This sonata, written when he was twenty-three, took up the second half of the Perlman-Ax program. It is grand in its size and in beauty. The listener could take time out to think, oh, yes, later Romanticism; Strauss must have revered Brahms. There is no time out available for such observations. The music is sometimes introspective and also projects a feeling of improvisation, as though it were being created by the musicians as they played. Improvisation: Andante cantabile is the title of the second movement. Strauss’s Sonata has the force and energy to pull the listener into a gorgeous world, intense and full of power.

The audience, standing and vigorously applauding was most reluctant to let Perlman and Ax leave. Mr. Perlman has a history of giving encores and introducing them with humorous commentary. The full house demanded extra treats. On this night, the audience was treated to four encores. Each time, the duo exited to applause and, after a bit, returned. They bowed and then, seeming to confer about what they might play, went back to perform. Mr. Perlman is the spokesman. The first selection, by Dvorak, he said, had intimations of Americana, Dvorak’s own Americana. One could hear suggestions of what might have African-American music, forerunner of blues. Kreisler’s, Schon Rosmarin, came next, after another exit and return; then, Kreisler’s Love’s Sorrow. A young woman and her daughter who had made their way down to the edge of the stage presented them with a bouquet and a teddy bear. Mr. Perlman made a point of giving the bouquet to Mr. Ax, embracing the teddy bear for himself. They reappeared one more time, this time Mr. Ax was allowed the bear, to play Kreisler’s Love’s Joy. Mr. Perlman assured the audience he would not leave them with Love’s Sorrow. The interplay between the musicians was delightful. The warmth of their stage presence never stepped over the line to interfere with the seriousness of their performance. Hear Itzhak Perlman and Emanuel Ax on their Deutsche Grammophon album of sonatas by Faure and Strauss. They perform together on tour throughout the US this season. For other Hedgehog Highlights about these musicians please see entry of January 11, 2015, on recital by Emanuel Ax and entry of January 18, 2015, on recital by Itzhak Perlman.

San Francisco Symphony Celebrates Sibelius, Rediscovers Schumann

Music Director Michael Tilson Thomas led the San Francisco Symphony in a great, very great performance of the Violin Concerto in D minor, Opus 47, by Jean Sibelius, and Symphony No. 3 in E flat major, Opus 97, Rhenish, by Robert Schumann, November 13-15, at Davies Hall. If by any chance you missed hearing one of these concerts, you have a chance for more Sibelius tonight, Nov. 18, when pianist Leif Ove Andsnes performs works of Sibelius, Beethoven, Debussy, and Chopin. And, another chance for a grand Schumann symphony, Nov. 19-21, when MTT and the SFS perform Schumann’s symphony, No. 1, Spring.

This is the 150th anniversary of Jean Sibelius’s birth, Dec. 8, 1865. Thanks to the milestone quality of that event, the SFS and others are performing more of his extraordinary music. One may hear Finlandia on the radio from time to time, and its stirring beauty is ample reason for Finland to celebrate Sibelius as a national hero, but he did write more. This program opened with his tone poem, The Swan of Tuonela, Opus, 22, no. 2. Written in 1896, it is one of a group of works based on Finnish legends, Four Legends from the Kalevala. Its beauty is misty, ethereal, and even a bit eerie. Tuonela was the “land of death” in Finnish myths. The Swan of Tuonela floats on a large river which circles Tuonela and sings. The images of the tale evaporate into the music or the music calls the mythic characters into being. From which ever direction one experiences it, The Swan of Tuonela, as performed by the SFS is beautiful and chilling.

Leonidas Kavakos performed the Violin Concerto (1904) with stunning virtuosity. This is not stunning in the sense of “looking good.” This was stunning in the sense of shivers up the back bone and eye popping brilliance. Mr. Kavakos made the first recording of the original version of this Violin Concerto, in 1991. That version is said to be even more demanding than the one more often performed. The winner of major international violin competitions, he is far more than a majestic technician; he is a magical musician. The concerto moves from very delicate, dream-like music into deeply passionate music with the full orchestra. As a moody, pessimistic sound takes over, the solo violin emerges to play an astonishing cadenza. Sibelius uses the voices of the orchestra and of the soloist in opposition and also brilliant unity. As a composer, Sibelius can only be described as Sibelius-esque. The music finds enchanting melody and also heart pounding syncopated rhythms. This SFS performance with Leonidas Kavakos took one’s breath away.

Robert Schumann (1810-1856) was a pianist, conductor, music critic, journalist in addition to being a great composer. We are all lucky that MTT and the SFS are launching a project to record Schumann’s four symphonies. The performance, Nov. 15, was the first of the performance recordings. It was glorious. Maestro Tilson Thomas captured the energy and motion of the music. One could almost feel the rolling power of the water in the waves of sound. The SFS played as though their hearts were unleashed. The symphony opens with lively music; we are there on the Rhine, that ever present symbol of Europe. The second movement has the rhythms of dances. The minuet and a German folk dance combine. Schumann had called it “Morning on the Rhine.” He and his wife, Clara, had taken a trip to the Rhineland together and remembered it as a tranquil, happy time. Schumann had seen the cathedral at Cologne and the installation of a Cardinal there. The solemnity of the fourth movement is his representation of the grandeur of the place and event. In the end, wisps of the early themes reappear; the timing slows as the great river swells and travels toward the sea. The the symphony has an internal effect on the listeners. The audience was buoyant, energized, smiling as though the movement of the music had infused them all with the spirit of the natural force of the river.

mtt_09-black_0598-5-120x67 Three cheers for MTT’s Schumann project with the San Francisco Symphony. This great, Romantic composer has not been given his due in recent decades. Music lovers should not miss this experience. The time has come to rediscover his music.

Pictures, from top: Jean Sibelius; Leonidas Kavakos, courtesy of San Francisco Symphony; Robert Schumann, photograph from 1850; Michael Tilson Thomas, courtesy of San Francisco Symphony.