huff post Brooklyn piece

Emmy-award winning composer, Artistic Director of GPRrecords Email My Brooklyn Bridge: The Party's Not Over Posted: 12/29/2014 1:42 pm EST Updated: 1 hour ago Share 8 Tweet 9 0 Comment 0 Share on Google+ The one thing the blogosphere does not need is another article about trendy, hip, ironic, facially-haired Brooklyn. In fact some recent articles now toll the death knell of the borough, saying that Brooklyn is passé; it seems that Queens is the new Brooklyn. That fact notwithstanding, I've always been rather late to the party, and although I'd had my share of evenings at BAM and the wonderful concerts at Bargemusic, it wasn't until recently that I discovered the depth of serious music, opera and theater happening throughout the borough. I never felt comfortable embracing Brooklyn. Flatbush, decidedly un-hip (at least in the '70's) was my ancestral homeland, the place I had to escape, although the escape wasn't all that physically dangerous as I simply took the D-train to the bright lights of Manhattan. So every time this prodigal son returns, I always feel certain trepidation: will memories I've successfully repressed all these years rear their ugly heads as I walk down Atlantic Avenue? Recently, I was invited to a recording of Yotam Haber's new work; Haber is a composer who's work I deeply admire, so I enlisted a friend with a car and we made the trek across the bridge to Roulette. Despite the world-class contemporary classical musicians who regularly perform there, I was completely unaware of this venue. I learned that the original Roulette, a bastion of avant-garde music, was in Jim Stanely's TriBeCa loft. (Stanley, a renowned trombonist, was a force in the hip, downtown loft music scene in the 1980's, another party I'd have been happy to come late to, had I known it existed!) Roulette has moved often over the decades, but in 2011 it settled into what now seems a permanent home: Memorial Hall in Boerum Hill. Entering through a completely non-descript set of iron doors, you are welcomed into a small but friendly lobby, artfully renovated. The real treat of Roulette is the performance space itself: an intimate gem of an old ballroom/theater, a tiny balcony spanning the perimeter, anchored to the ceiling by skinny, frail looking pipes. Despite extensive on-line research I couldn't find the original purpose of the hall/theater, although it was obviously built as a performance space so I imagine it could have been an Elks Lodge or a Kiwanis Meeting Hall. It rather reminded me of Wilton's Music Hall, the oldest Music Hall in London, also now meticulously renovated. On stage, an entire orchestra fit very comfortably, which is unusual for a venue that only holds about 250 seats on the orchestra level. Furthermore, this wasn't just any orchestra. It was Contemporaneous, the premier orchestra dedicated to promoting and performing new music. As I arrived they were finishing rehearsing a piece by Thomas Adès and Haber's piece was ready to be recorded. Haber, in addition to numerous awards and commissions, was for some years the Artistic Director of MATA, the organization founded by Philip Glass and others to commission and present new works. His music, based loosely on a minimalist style, is hauntingly beautiful and seductively hypnotic. The piece I heard, "We Were All," had all the Haber trademarks I love: the melodic loops of phrases, the sensual tonalities and the completely original harmonic language. Based on "Cherries," a poem by Andrea Cohen, the piece started with three singers singing separate, staccato syllables in a quasi-baroque style; these syllabic organisms then cautiously migrated into the orchestra, instrument by instrument, until a great crescendo heralded the climax, the entire orchestra elaborating on the tiny phrases, timpani's banging, trumpets blaring, followed by a gradual decrescendo as the syllabic phrases dissipated to their original state. It was a gorgeous, explosive piece: the creation of the universe, if you will, in less than fifteen minutes. One incredibly important feature of Haber's music, to me anyway, is his sensitivity to the audience. His music always sounds fresh and cutting edge, but the audience is inevitably seduced as opposed to being bewildered or worse, indifferent. After the recording at Roulette, my next point of call was LoftOpera's production of The Barber of Seville. Happily, LoftOpera is only two years old, so I was only 700 days late to this particular party. Their Barber was performed in another incredible environment, The Green Building, a gorgeous multi-use space in Carroll Gardens, complete with exposed brick walls and soaring wooden beam ceilings lit by elegant chandeliers. It was set up rather like the Parish House next to St John the Divine's where I recently saw Britten's Curlew River. How can you not have an enormous smile on your face when you walk into a venue like this offering Barber, and find positioned near the entrance an actual barber chair complete with hairdresser offering free trims to anyone who signs up on the chalkboard? Those who didn't didn't need a haircut, could go outside to the enormous beer-garden and get a bit sloshed for Rossini. Of course, an opera has to be judged on its musical merits, not its beauticians, and this production was sensational. I had already seen the Met's production with superstars Laurence Brownlee, Christopher Maltmen and the enchanting Isabel Leonard who is the greatest Rosina alive today. There is probably no better cast available in the world, so I was surprised and delighted to hear the youthful OperaLoft cast completely hold their own in spite of a forbidding comparison. Although I wasn't familiar with José Adán Pérez, his Figaro was a delight. Even without checking his bio, it was clear he had performed this role many times; he knew it inside and out. His singing was robust and athletic, easily navigating the treacheries of the famous "Largo al factotum," (that's the Bugs Bunny "Figaro, Figaro, Figaro," that every non-opera aficianado sings when asked if he knows opera.) The true star of the evening was a super-nova on the classical scene, Jonathan Blalock as Almaviva. Anyone who reads music reviews is aware of Blalock's ascent, as he can't seem to help but get raves from everyone from Alex Ross to the Anthony Tommasini. This is the first time I'd seen him in a role and this guy can sing! And act! And is strikingly handsome as well, a singer who has it all. He negotiated the extremely challenging bel canto sections with great dexterity and a technique that belies his young age; the audience burst into well-deserved applause halfway through his first aria. The production itself was sublime, a real treat. The audience sat in two sections facing each other across stage platform that looked like a large dining table and ran the length of the hall. That's where most of the opera was performed, except when the action shifted to the upper reaches of the hall's fire escapes, where Rosina was held captive by Bartolo or when the ensemble ran through the audience. The second most important thing about any Barber after the singing is that the opera be funny. Although the cast at the Met was wonderful, the heavy handed-production, complete with unfunny cartoon anvils falling on people and outsized pumpkins (oranges?) being tossed about, was anything but. This production (despite the staged Overture with some sort of chamber maid chasing a butterfly -- will directors please stop staging the Overture!) was hysterical. Every joke that Rossini wrote landed, and the director Laine Rettmer directed the comedy with the lightest of touches despite the inherent slapstick of the libretto. Of course, it's infinitely easier to make a joke work in a tiny venue than in the vast enormity of the Met, but still, this is a company to be reckoned with; I can't wait to see what they have in store for next year. The last leg of my Brooklyn odyssey was a return trip to the Theater for a New Audience. I was again completely late to the original party of this company having never seen them in Manhattan. Happily I saw a magnificent Lear there last season, vastly superior to the ponderous and self-indulgent Frank Langella production at BAM, and this season I recently saw Tambourlaine, Parts I and II, staring the magnificent John Douglas Thompson. One of the most wonderful things about a night with this company is simply walking into the spanking new Polonsky Shakespeare Center. The program notes say that the theater was inspired by the Cottleslow Theatre of Britain's National Theater, but having been to the Cottleslow hundreds of times, I can say that this open, airy, audience friendly environment is 100% more inviting than any of the brutal-esque monstrosities that comprise the National Theater, Cotteslow included. It's a wonderful feeling knowing that prior to seeing a performance you are going into a clean, well-lit, elegantly designed environment with a formidable canteen and comfortable seats. Despite 30 years of theater going, I'd never seen Tambourlain, and I honestly can't recall any opportunities to do so. Knowing it was such a seminal play in its own right, not to mention a huge influence on the young Shakespeare, I eagerly bought a ticket. I was disappointed to see the audience not nearly full, despite the raves. (Will Manhattan-ites still not make the trek? Or are they already in Queens?) The performance was directed by the great Shakespearean Michael Boyd, who achieved an amazing task: directing a troupe of American actors in an Elizabethan drama and creating a completely naturalistic style that had its own "American" rhythm without pandering to the text or history of the play. Tambourlain was gory, poetic, riveting, exhilarating, all the things their Lear had been a year ago. Ah, Brooklyn. What else have I been missing? No matter, I'm back now and am on the mailing lists of Roulette, LoftOpera and Theater for the New City. You can go home again.

Blog for Daddy's! Polar Express!

Rob Kapilow: Chris Van Allsburg’s The Polar Express; Dr. Seuss’s Gertrude McFuzz. Sung by Nathan Gunn, with the Polar Express Children’s Choir (Polar); sung by Isabel Leonard, with Olivia Lombardi as Gertrude (Gertrude); Metamorphosis Chamber Orchestra. GPR. $19.99. The dreams are for the youngest listeners rather than the oldest on a new GPR recording of two works by Rob Kapilow, one based on Chris Van Allsburg’s moving Christmas dream/fable, The Polar Express, and the other taking off from a much lighter fantasy by Dr. Seuss, Gertrude McFuzz – a work that does, however, have a moral as clear as Van Allsburg’s. This is a CD for families already familiar with the two works that Kapilow sets, because the text is almost identical to that in the books but, of course, does not have the pictures that render these two very different works so intriguing and enthralling in printed form. Kapilow is especially sensitive to Van Allsburg’s pacing: listeners can easily hear the places where the composer moves from one page of the book to the next. The music is supportive of the narration but also has a delightful character all its own. In The Polar Express, for instance, snatches of Christmas carols are woven into the musical tale, while in Gertrude McFuzz, little bits of well-known tunes are included in a score that nicely characterizes the participants – Gertrude’s Uncle Dake, for example, gets a jazzy beat, while Gertrude herself is accompanied by rather whiny notes that neatly complement her temper tantrums. The performers are all first-rate, not over-intellectualizing any of the words but not talking down to the intended audience, either. Nathan Gunn narrates with seriousness befitting that of an older man looking back on childhood while retaining a sense of wonder and communicating it to children, while Isabel Leonard offers bounce and brightness and just enough snottiness to show a narrative disapproval of the demands of Olivia Lombardi, who gets her comeuppance in typically gratifying and amusing Seussian fashion. This CD is not inexpensive, considering the fact that it runs just 34 minutes and that CDs of books’ readings are sometimes included at no extra charge within the books themselves. But the fine music and wholehearted involvement of all the performers make the disc a very worthwhile seasonal gift, especially for families that see it as a complement to The Polar Express and Yertle the Turtle and Other Stories (in which Gertrude’s tale, and tail, appear).

About Isabel and Gertrude by William Madison!

One of the more eagerly heralded recordings of this holiday season is Rob Kapilow’s Polar Express and Gertrude McFuzz, concert adaptations of the beloved books written and illustrated by Chris Van Allsburg and Dr. Seuss (respectively, of course). Aiming to engage young audiences with music that’s fun but not dumb, Kapilow has composed lively scores with plenty of appeal for grownups, too, and he mixes child singers (a chorus in Polar Express, a preternaturally red-hot jazz-baby soloist named Olivia Lombardi in Gertrude) with Opera World grown-ups Nathan Gunn (in Polar Express) and Isabel Leonard (in Gertrude). Especially when seen in excerpts on video, Leonard’s performance really makes you wish you could just bring her home and let her do her stuff for you. She’s a busy woman, of course, so in all likelihood you’ll have to settle for buying the album. But it’s spectacular work in any case. Even having seen her as Rossini’s Cinderella with Fort Worth Opera in 2009, and as Mozart’s Cherubino at the Met this fall (among other roles), I was only barely prepared for the wit and charm — and vivid acting — she brings to bear as Gertrude’s Narrator. “Rob created a very fun, funky, musically narrative score for the book,” Leonard told me in a phone interview several weeks ago. “It’s perfect for kids, and that’s what this whole CD is about, not only bringing classical music to kids but bringing classically trained voices who can do a variety of things with their voices, to show kids what’s possible.” Mezzo Isabel Leonard For Leonard, the Gertrude score represented an opportunity “to play with my voice, to sing in a classical style and maybe in a more musical-theater style and jazzy style … a combination of colors and different styles,” she says. “Sometimes when you’re entrenched in the opera world, you forget what it is that you can do, in general. I’ve done jazz and musical theater, and it was great to put it all together.” Renowned as the host of NPR’s What Makes It Great?, Kapilow has adapted Dr. Seuss before — his Green Eggs and Ham is widely considered a contemporary classic — and he has a pretty good idea what makes Seuss great. His music exults in the author’s imaginative use of language, and, much though we love the illustrations in the book, Kapilow rises to the challenge of substituting sound for image. He provides his own ingenious surprises, characters and curlicues and improbable landscapes, until we feel as if we’re listening to the pictures. “[Kapilow’s] vocal writing has a range, so the singer has to have range and good rhythm, good funk in your voice,” Leonard says. “I was able to do that, and play around with accents and being goofy, and really, really telling the story, not just by way of beauty — which is what you hear so much in opera — but even more with the texture of sounds and words.” Both Polar Express and Gertrude McFuzz are a particularly effective kind of composition for young audiences. They’re not didactic, explaining what a woodwind is; instead, they’re exemplary. These pieces demonstrate an original way to tell a story, and they showing that music isn’t just for Wotans and Valkyries and venerable conductors with great profiles, because kids can take part, too. You wind up with gateways to more and more music — which will seem less intimidating, because kids already have a sense of the potential pleasures and rewards. As a parent — and as a former child — Leonard describes music education as “paramount, just like any arts education,” and she’s worked with children and young adults many times. “They’re still at that stage where they’re an open book: they can be inspired, and they’re still willing to be inspired,” she says. As audiences, kids “respond to something that’s true, their response is very genuine. It’s something they don’t forget, so they’re impacted on a level that really lives with them, for the rest of their life, most likely.” Gertrude McFuzz does contain a moral — and wouldn’t we all like to be smart enough to know what’s enough? But Leonard was smart enough to have a good time with Kapilow’s score. “You can’t go far from the microphone” in the recording studio, she says, “but I was definitely rocking it out and having fun. It’s that kind of music. It’ll get little kids and older kids up on their feet, bouncing around and having fun with it.”

from the Financial Times!

December 12, 2014 5:17 pm Richard Fairman Music from the ongoing collaborative project talks not only of sadness, but also comfort and resilience arious Artists An Aids Quilt Songbook: Sing for Hope (GPR Records) Do a good deed for Christmas. Like the Aids Memorial Quilt, the Aids Quilt Songbook is an ongoing collaborative project. This new disc features 20 songs, many directly on the subject of Aids, by as many composers and performers, including some illustrious names like Joyce DiDonato, Nicole Cabell and Anthony Dean Griffey. The music talks of sadness, but also comfort and resilience, and the disc serves as an absorbing survey of American song today. In addition, Sharon Stone reads two poems. All profits go to amfAR, the Foundation for Aids Research. © THE FINANCIAL TIMES LTD 2014 FT and ‘Financial Times’ are trademarks of The Financial Times Ltd. An Aids Quilt Songbook:... £7.49 Shop now 1

SING FOR HOPE FROM EDGE!

Entertainment » Music "An AIDS Quilt Songbook: Sing for Hope" to Benefit amfAR by Winnie McCroy (Source:http://www.singforhope.org) An all-star cast of 40 renowned singers and instrumentalists comes together on one CD to sing for hope and in the cause of supporting AIDS research. The new CD, "An AIDS Quilt Songbook: Sing for Hope" will be launched on December 1, World AIDS Day, with 100 percent of profits going to amfAR. "It's incredibly powerful and it's healing on both sides of the equation. Art is just an easy way for us to feel connected as humans," said Camille Zamora, co-founder of "Sing for Hope." Among the 40 artists participating in the project are Grammy-winning artists Joyce DiDonato, Yo-Yo Ma, Sasha Cooke; international opera stars Noah Stewart, Jamie Barton, Matthew Polenzani, Susanna Phillips, Anthony Dean Griffey, Monica Yunus, Isabel Leonard, Camille Zamora, Daniel Okulitch and many more. Accompanied by outstanding composer/performers Ricky Ian Gordon, Fred Hersch, John Musto and many more, they sing new American Art Songs in a continuation of the historic "AIDS Quilt Songbook" of 1992. "The idea of the album is based on the famous Names Project AIDS quilt, and we are adding new songs and taking them away, so it's really like a quilt," said volunteer Thomas Bagwell. (Source:http://www.singforhope.org) Tuneful ballads, heartfelt laments, wryly humorous showpieces and passionate calls to action combine to create a musical portrait of AIDS in today's world. Many of the songs were specially commissioned for the CD: songs about activism and antiretrovirals, love and loss and overall, the hope for a cure. Actors Sharon Stone ("Casino" and "Basic Instinct") and Ansel Elgort ("The Fault In Our Stars") contribute readings of poetry. "I'm an actor and performer, and I'm so happy to volunteer two poems for this CD," said Elgort. Produced by GPR Records and NYC-based arts volunteerism organization Sing for Hope, and distributed worldwide by Naxos Records, 100 percent of profits from "An AIDS Quilt Songbook: Sing for Hope" will be donated to amfAR, The Foundation for AIDS Research. More than 80 artists - instrumentalists, singers, composers, poets, actors, photographers and filmmakers - donated their time and talents in the making of this album. Singers on the album include Jamie Barton, Nicole Cabell, Sasha Cooke, Adrienne Danrich, Joyce DiDonato, Anthony Dean Griffey, Isabel Leonard, Lester Lynch, Melody Moore, Daniel Okulitch, Sean Panikkar, Keith Phares, Susanna Phillips, Matthew Polenzani, Randall Scarlata, Michael Slattery, Noah Stewart, Monica Yunus and Camille Zamora. Among the instrumentalists are 15-time Grammy-winning cellist Yo-Yo Ma and New York Philharmonic principal clarinetist Anthony McGill. Pianists include Thomas Bagwell, Scott Gendel, Ricky Ian Gordon, six-time Grammy-nominee Fred Hersch, Gregg Kallor, Lori Laitman, Kenneth Merrill, John Musto and Cristina Pato. Composers for the CD are Grammy-winner Robert Aldridge, Carol Barnett, Robert Chesley, Grammy-winner Herschel Garfein, Scott Gendel, Ricky Ian Gordon, Drew Hemenger, six-time Grammy-nominee Fred Hersch, Gregg Kallor, Lori Laitman, Tania León, Gilda Lyons, John Musto, Kevin Oldham, Cristina Pato, Paola Prestini, Eric Reda, four-time Emmy-winner Glen Roven, Kamala Sankaram and Mary Carol Warwick. Artists and organizers hope that the album will help bring the struggle for a cure to AIDS to the forefront once again. "I've been HIV-positive for over 30 years but beyond that, the community of artists and general human beings need to keep AIDS at the forefront, keeping the pressure on," said volunteer Fred Hersch. To purchase the album, visit http://www.amazon.com/An-AIDS-Quilt-Songbook-Sing/dp/B00OA9NYOG Winnie McCroy is the Women on the EDGE Editor, HIV/Health Editor, and Assistant Entertainment Editor for EDGE Media Network, handling all women’s news, HIV health stories and theater reviews throughout the U.S. She has contributed to other publications, including The Village Voice, Gay City News, Chelsea Now and The Advocate, and lives in Brooklyn, New York, where she writes about local restaurants in her food blog, http://brooklyniscookin.blogspot.com/ This article is part of our "World AIDS Day 2014" series. Want to read more? Here's the full list» Related Topics: fundraising | HIV | HIV Service Organization | amfAR | AIDS research | AIDS Memorial Quilt 0

FROM GRAMAPHONE SING FOR HOPE!

Leading classical musicians unite for 'An AIDS Quilt Songbook: Sing for Hope' Gramophone Mon 1st December 2014 The album is released on December 1, to mark World AIDS Day The New York-based national non-profit organisation Sing for Hope has enlisted the help of more than 70 classical musicians for a very special album called 'An AIDS Quilt Songbook: Sing for Hope' to raise money for amFAR, the foundation for AIDS research. The album is released today, December 1, World AIDS Day. The album features contributions from Yo-yo Ma, Noah Stewart, Joyce DiDonato, Lori Laitman and Jamie Barton. William Parker, a baritone who was HIV-positive, conceived of the AIDS Quilt Songbook in the early 1990s. In 1992, a concert was organised at Lincoln Center which featured many leading singers of the time – including William Parker – performing a selection of newly composed songs about AIDS. Paker died the following year. This new album is a salute to that first concert and also features poetry by Siegfried Sassoon and Walt Whitman read by Sharon Stone and Ansel Elgort. Watch the video below to find out more about the project:

Pat Racette: First Review!!! (a rave!)

10 AUGUST 2012 CD Review: Racette’s ‘Diva on Detour’ Over the past few years, Patricia Racette has earned the reputation of one of America’s foremost sopranos. The first time I heard her, as the title character in Tobias Picker’s Emmeline, at New York City Opera, she won my admiration, and I’m always glad to hear more of her. Since then, with her searing theatricality and passionate, clarion singing, she’s gone on racking up triumphs, in repertory ranging from Verdi and Puccini to Janácˇek and Carlisle Floyd, particularly at San Francisco Opera, Houston Grand Opera, and the Met. At the last company, she’s received notable acclaim for her Madama Butterfly and for a Tosca that helped to redeem Luc Bondy’s infamously ill-conceived staging. Strangely enough, however, this Soprano Assoluta boasts a background in cabaret: in her younger years, she enrolled at the University of North Texas to study jazz, but wound up in opera instead. Hearing her at the Met, I simply couldn’t imagine her on a spotlit barstool by a smoky piano. Surely she was making this up. Now GPR Records has released a CD that exuberantly proclaims Racette’s mastery of an altogether different idiom. While she brings to bear certain assets of concert singing — particularly extended range and breath control that permits her to hold notes far longer than the average chantoozy — she gives herself over freely to the demands of the art form, exploiting a gutsy chest voice, alert attention to rhythm, and expressive devotion to language. She manages Billie Holiday’s trademark, singing on consonants, and she belts as if she was born to do nothing else. Doozy of a chantoozy: Soprano Patricia Racette Looking over the playlist of pop standards, almost all of which are associated with legendary stars of the past, you admire not only Racette’s good taste but also her courage. How the hell does any “diva on detour” open her act with a medley of Judy Garland numbers? Well, it takes her about less than two bars to dispel any doubts you may have, and once she’s got you in her grasp, she’s not letting you go. Even in a set of Piaf numbers, she catches exactly the right style. She doesn’t imitate so much as invoke the Little Sparrow’s gargles and growls, her moans and roar, not to mention her flawless French diction. The only time she isn’t completely convincing is, paradoxically, a rendition of “La Vie en rose” delivered in what we will call her Opera Voice: though you can’t deny her emotional connection, the song becomes altogether too plummy. It’s nowhere near as bad as Renata Scotto’s legendary “Over the Rainbow,” but nevertheless it’s a mistake she won’t make twice in the course of this album. So big deal: Patricia Racette is not Eileen Farrell — a unique artist who could use essentially the same voice in both opera and jazz. Racette needs two different voices, and the great marvel here is that her cabaret voice is so persuasive, uninhibited, and stylish. In a sense, Racette’s affinity for this repertory is only natural, since in opera, too, she sings roles that are closely associated with monstres sacrés like Maria Callas, every bit as titanic in her field as Piaf or Garland was in hers. Racette must make those roles her own, just as she must make these songs hers and not Garland’s or Piaf’s — or, for that matter, Jack Gilford’s, when she sings “I’m Calm.” She’s very funny, as it happens, not Jack’s way but her way. Interpretation has become the abandoned child in pop music, where we put an almost exclusive emphasis on innovation. But in jazz as in opera, interpretation is the order of the day, and it’s Racette’s achievement that she finds herself and communicates with us in any music that she sings. She’s a “diva on detour,” perhaps, but she’s not slumming: she’s got integrity. She knows what to do, and she does it — beautifully. The album was recorded before a live audience (invited, audibly appreciative, and pleasingly responsive), and it’s distinguished by Racette’s engaging between-song banter. Has any soprano in such circumstances ever sounded less like a conservatory recitalist? I doubt it. Craig Terry, her longtime collaborator, provides expert accompaniment on piano, exercising a kind of majestic yet unpretentious command that’s a perfect match for her full-throated delivery. Diva on Detour is a priceless souvenir of one more facet of a great artist’s talent, and I look forward to listening to it and learning more from it for many years to come. For more information and to purchase Diva on Detour, click here.

And The Banned Play On (from the Huff Post)

So far this season at the Met I have seen three sensational shows, The Marriage of Figaro, The Death of Klinghoffer and most recently Lady Macbeth of Mtsensk. Although one couldn't imagine three more disparate works -- an 18th Century sex farce, an opera about Palestinian terrorists taking over a cruise ship, and the tale of a murderous adulteress in a factory town in Russia -- there is one interesting fact that groups them as a whole: each, when first presented, got into some major hot water with the censors. One was banned outright by a dictator; an ex-mayor of New York City try to ban this production, while the head of the Met canceled the planned live-telecast: and one, they say, flamed the fire of the French Revolution! Not bad for an artistic expression that has been called, "a dinosaur of an art form." The Marriage of Figaro, the season opener, based on Beaumarchais's masterpiece, La Folle journée, ou le Mariage de Figaro (The Crazy Day, or the Marriage of Figaro) was written in 1778, but the Parisian censors controlled by Louis XVI successfully banned performances until 1784. The play, with its call for social equality and its blatant contempt for the indulgences of the upper classes, was clearly something the elitist government would not tolerate, especially during the volatile years before the French Revolution. Plot lines wherein a Count tries to seduce his servant's wife, only to be brought to his knees begging forgiveness from his wife working in tandem with his servant's husband, would not sit well with the omnipotent nobility. As movie fans know from Peter Shaffer's brilliant Amadeus, Emperor Joseph II, Mozart's sometime patron, was shocked that Mozart would even think of musicalizing such a "bad play." As imagined by Shaffer, Joseph said, "Figaro...stirs up hatred between the classes...My own dear sister Antoinette writes me that she is beginning to be frightened of her own people." Mozart's librettist, Lorenzo da Ponte softened the politics of the original play so the production would indeed be performed, but the audience clearly saw the lowly servant Figaro being insolent to his lord and master and even scheming to thwart him while he sang great, tuneful music; the public understood. An interesting aside: when the opera was finally presented in Paris, after the revolution, the presenters thought da Ponte had eliminated too much of the political punch and restored much of the exorcised dialogue the librettist had eliminated. In the Met production, gorgeously sung by the entire cast, especially Peter Mattei's Count and Isabel Leonard's hormone-charged Cherbino, the class warfare has been softened to a refined Upstairs/Downstairs, Downtown Abbey-style conflict, social issues gentrified into a palatable noblesse oblige collage of the rich and their servants (starting with the staged Overture, meh!) In fact, almost all of the productions of Figaro I've seen concentrate on the glorious music, which is fine with me as there is no more beautiful music written in all of opera, in my opinion, anyway. I do recall, however, a production at the Met directed by Jean-Pierre Ponelle in which every time a door opened, the audience was treated to revolting peasants brandishing farm instruments which seemed pretty heavy handed. Of course what was verboten and cause for censorship in the 18th Century has now morphed into something routinely explored on movies and television, even though the world-wide class system, poor vs. rich, is no less terrifying and important today as it was then. But I would love to see a really political Figaro. The second of the three great evenings I had at the Met was The Death of Klinghoffer. I wrote about it in depth earlier this season, http://www.huffingtonpost.com/glen-roven/art-isnt-easy_b_6030764.html, but seeing Lady M made me again think about all the protests outside and the condemnation by Jewish leaders (who conveniently forgot that the Reichskulturkammer of the Third Reich banned the works of Kurt Weill and other Jewish composers because they thought they were not "German" enough). Ex-mayor Giuliani joined the protests and called for a ban on performing the opera under any circumstances, but Peter Gelb canceled only the broadcast. (I wonder, given the great success of Klinghoffer, if Gelb regrets his decision.) Remember that Giuliani, no stranger to promoting bans on art that violates his delicate sensibility, famously tried to revoke city funding for the Brooklyn Museum, have the museum's board of trustees dismissed, and evict the museum from the city-owned building because of an art exhibit he found "disgusting." Thankfully the court intervened and the offending exhibit continued, with the museum issuing a tongue-in-cheek warning, "The contents of this exhibition may cause shock, vomiting, confusion, panic, euphoria, and anxiety." Even Verdi, who now seems so politically innocent, had his problems with the censors. He had to relocate Un Ballo in Maschera to Boston (where everyone sang in Italian, of course) to avoid government suppression and in Stiffelio was forced to reassign the religion of the main character, changing a Protestant minister to a "sectarian" eviscerating the entire ending so the piece could see the light of day. Dmitri Shostakovich was not as lucky. Lady Macbeth of Mtsensk had been a run-away smash for two years before Joseph Stalin saw it and famously walked out in disgust after the second act. Two days later, an anonymous Pravda editorial appeared: (The music was) "fidgety, screaming, neurotic...a grotesquery suited to the perverted tastes of the bourgeois." The Soviets knew what their leader thought and no one could publically or privately question his opinion. Thus Shostakovich's masterpiece was effectively banned, and he never wrote another opera; Lady M was not to be heard in its original form until 1979. Thankfully, Klinghoffer, despite the protests, went on as planned with the cast, score and production almost universally praised, although two of the opera companies that originally commissioned have yet to schedule it in any future season. Amazing. Of the three productions I saw, Lady M was the most completely satisfying for me. During intermission I ran into the brilliant opera composer, Ricky Ian Gordon who could barely speak he was so overwhelmed by the power of the piece. Opera is about the music and the Met orchestra consistently plays at a level almost unheard of in performance today, but this performance was in a class by itself; the tightness, the brilliance, the bombast of the playing, led by the indefatigable James Conlon, rattled the rafters. Directed by English master, Graham Vick, the opera was set in an angular, raked room with seventeen doors leading God-knows-where. This Kafka-esque environment was ironically offset by a jolly-holiday, sky-blue cloud formation painted over the doors and walls. This unit set served as the basis for all the scenes: a huge crane appeared over the top when the scene shifted to the worker's factory, a giant mirror ball came down at the wedding of Katerina and Sergei, the doors were unceremoniously kicked out as the scene shifted to a prisoners' rest-stop. This type of unit set is pretty standard stuff in many European opera houses, but I've seldom seen metaphorical design work as well; too many times, the unit set has nothing to do with the story being told at least the story that the composer and librettist wrote. The claustrophobic world of Katarina's loveless home, complete with the dilapidated refrigerator whose interior light blinds the audience like a searchlight, is a powerful metaphor for her loveless marriage and her perpetual disillusionment. Eva-Maria Westbroek seemed to inhabit poor Katerina, the opera's heroine, down to her marrow. I had previously loved her in Francesca Di Rimini and Ricky Ian Gordon raved about her in Anna Nicole, but surely this is the highlight of her impressive career so far. She sang from an emotional depth I've rarely seen on an opera stage, especially one as large as the Met's. Katerina's vocal range must be one of the most difficult and strenuous in the operatic repertoire but Westbroek's magnificent voice was steely and powerful when it had to be, beautifully nuanced when the score called for it and heart wrenchingly cathartic at the climax of the piece. I also loved the staging of the interludes, some of Shostakovich's most powerful music complete with nightmaresque transvestite brides in blood stained white dresses and shirtless factory workers cavorting around bags of garbage. The emergence of a gigantic flower during the seduction scene was a magnificent coup de théâter as it hovered over the copulating lovers. All the protests outside the Met made me think about the nature of politically engaged art and I drew parallels that I might not have done otherwise. Part of the protests against Klinghoffer and Mtsensk seem to be that these works debase a noble form; but taken together, the three operas offer a vision of opera's breadth and cohesion, rather than its disparities and disconnectedness.

broadway world piece about Corinne Winters

Corinne Winters to Celebrate Release of CANCION AMOROSA: SONGS OF SPAIN, 11/17 November 7 3:35 PM 2014 Print Article Email Link 👤by BWW News Desk ​ Corinne Winters to Celebrate Release of CANCION AMOROSA: SONGS OF SPAIN, 11/17 On Monday, November 17, 2014 at 10:00 p.m., New York Festival of Song presents a special NYFOS After Hours celebrating the record release of CANCIÓN AMOROSA: SONGS OF SPAIN with Corinne Winters and Steven Blier. The album is released the same day on GPR Records, distributed by Naxos. Winters and Blier will perform selections from the CD at HENRY's Restaurant on the Upper West Side. A complimentary Spanish-inspired amuse-bouche from Chef David Ferraro will be served for guests ordering dinner, and tabletop tapas will be served to all drinkers. With this CD, Blier and Winters celebrate the astounding array of cultures and styles of Iberian song. The album reveals an often-neglected repertoire - the glories of Catalan, Basque, Sephardic and Castilian music. Corinne Winters, whose Violetta in La traviata took London-and all of Europe-by storm in 2013, is quickly earning a place among the top sopranos of her generation. Blier, a "national treasure" (The New York Times) in the world of song, has accompanied the likes of Renée Fleming, Susan Graham, Jessye Norman, Cecilia Bartoli, and Lorraine Hunt Lieberson. Blier and Winters first collaborated in the NYFOS recital Spanish Gold in March 2011. "Those concerts were revelatory-the music was a perfect fit for my romantic sensibilities, but it helped me find a new palette of colors," says Winters. Following the performance, the pair immediately began talking about recording the unique repertoire. "This CD is a tribute to Spain's astonishing-and ravishing-musical diversity," writes Blier in the accompanying program note. "Gentle impressionism, fiery dance rhythms, soaring, romantic melody, and rough peasant ballad-Spanish song embraces them all. The musical riches of this nation are among the things I hold dearest in my heart." "My work with Steven Blier has opened my eyes to a new world of fine brush-stroke detail," says Winters. "He appreciates my Italianate operatic sound, but also encourages me to experiment with a more intimate approach based around poetry, looking for the individual voice of each composer." THE REPERTOIRE: (excerpts will be performed at the Nov. 17 CD Release Concert) 1. Después que te conocí (4:06) Music by Eduardo Toldrá; poem by Francesco de Quevedo 2. Paño murciano (1:49) Folk song arrangement by Joaquín Nin 3. Si con mis deseos (2:27) Music by Joaquín Turina; poem by Lope de Vega 4. Aldapeko, Mariya (1:11) Music by Felix Lavilla, Traditional Basque poem 5. Maig (3.26) Music by Eduardo Toldrá; Poem by Trinitat Catasús 6. Cançó amorosa (4:02) Music by Xavier Montsalvatge; poem by Tomas Garcés 7. Nik baditut (2.27) Basque folk song, arranged by Graciano Tarragó Oren Fader, guitar 8. La tarara (1:02) Eighteenth century popular song arranged by Federico García Lorca Oren Fader, guitar 9. Si la mar fuera de tinta (6:17) Music by José Melchor Gomis/arr. S. Blier; Anonymous poet 10. Haidé (5:04) Music by Narcís Bonet; poem by Joan Maragall 11. Tres hijas tiene el buen rey (4:03) Music by Alberto Hemsi; Traditional folk poem 12. Cómo quieres que adivine (2:50) Music by Jesús Guridi; folk poem 13. Paisatge del Montseny (3:43) Music by Xavier Montsalvatge; Poem by Pere Ribot 14. Adío querida (3:46) Sephardic melody, arranged by Manuel García Morante 15.Todas las mañanitas, from Don Gil de Alcalà (3:27) Music and libretto by Manuel Penella Moreno Corinne Winters, soprano; Maya Lahyani, mezzo; Oren Fader, guitar CORINNE WINTERS (corinnewinters.com) - Acclaimed by The New York Times as "an outstanding actress, as well as a singer of extraordinary grace and finesse," soprano Corinne Winters is a recent nominee in the International Opera Awards Young Singer category. Corinne's 2014/2015 season includes debuts with Washington National Opera as Mimì in a new production of La bohème and Vlaamse Opera Antwerpen as Donna Anna in Don Giovanni. Return engagements include role debuts as Tatiana in Eugene Onegin with Arizona Opera and Magda in La rondine with Opera Theatre of Saint Louis. In recital, Corinne performs with Steven Blier of the New York Festival of Song at the Tucson Desert Song Festival and Vocal Arts DC, showcasing Spanish song repertoire from her debut album Canción amorosa. In the 2013/14 season, Corinne debuted with the Santa Fe Opera as Soon Ching-ling in the American premiere of Dr. Sun Yat-sen, Kentucky Opera as Mimi?, Michigan Opera Theatre as Violetta in La traviata, and Virginia Opera as Micae?la in Carmen. She joined tenor Matthew Polenzani in recital for the George London Foundation and was praised by Opera News as "a striking brunette who manages to be simultaneously gamine and seductress, reveal[ing] an arresting, uniquely plum-colored soprano that could pass for mezzo in the middle but explodes with vibrant color on top." Corinne also recently debuted as Juliette in Roméo et Juliette with Arizona Opera and Violetta with Opera Hong Kong, Opera Lyra Ottawa, and English National Opera, which BBC Music Magazine deemed "a performance of white-hot intensity and consummate control." Immediate reengagements included Teresa in Benvenuto Cellini with English National Opera and Mimì with Arizona Opera, along with returns to Opera Theatre of Saint Louis as Vendulka in Smetana's The Kiss, the National Symphony Orchestra as Violetta, and the Metropolitan Opera to cover Blanche de la Force in Les Dialogues des Carme?lites. Future seasons include debuts with the Royal Opera House Covent Garden, Opernhaus Zürich, and Orchestra dell'Accademia Nazionale di Santa Cecilia. Corinne has won prizes from Wolf Trap Opera's Shouse Career Grant, the Mabel Dorn Reeder Foundation, Marcello Giordani Foundation (1st prize, Critics Choice Award, Vero Beach Prize), George London Foundation (George London/Leonie Rysanek Award), Sullivan Foundation (Career Grant), Licia Albanese Puccini Foundation (1st Prize), Palm Beach Opera Competition (1st Prize), Gerda Lissner Foundation (2nd Prize), and the Metropolitan Opera National Council Auditions (National Semifinalist, 1st place New England Region). Originally from Frederick, MD, Corinne earned a Master of Music degree in vocal performance from the Peabody Conservatory and Bachelor of Science degree magna cum laude from Towson University before appearing as a resident artist at the prestigious Academy of Vocal Arts in Philadelphia. Currently, she studies with world-renowned soprano Diana Soviero. STEVEN BLIER - Steven Blier is the Artistic Director of the New York Festival of Song (NYFOS), which he co-founded in 1988 with Michael Barrett. Since the Festival's inception, he has programmed, performed, translated and annotated more than 140 vocal recitals with repertoire spanning the entire range of American song, art song from Schubert to Szymanowski, and popular song from early vaudeville to Lennon-McCartney. NYFOS has also made in-depth explorations of music from Spain, Latin America, Scandinavia and Russia. New York Magazine gave NYFOS its award for Best Classical Programming, while Opera News proclaimed Blier "the coolest dude in town." Mr. Blier enjoys an eminent career as an accompanist and vocal coach. His recital partners have included Renée Fleming, Cecilia Bartoli, Samuel Ramey, Lorraine Hunt Lieberson, Susan Graham, Jessye Norman, and José van Dam, in venues ranging from Carnegie Hall to La Scala. He is also on the faculty of The Juilliard School and has been active in encouraging young recitalists at summer programs, including the Wolf Trap Opera Company, Santa Fe Opera, and the San Francisco Opera Center. Many of his former students, including Stephanie Blythe, Joseph Kaiser, Sasha Cooke, Paul Appleby, Dina Kuznetsova, Corinne Winters, and Kate Lindsey, have gone on to be valued recital colleagues and sought-after stars on the opera and concert stage. In keeping the traditions of American music alive, he has brought back to the stage many of the rarely heard songs of George Gershwin, Harold Arlen, Kurt Weill and Cole Porter. He has also played ragtime, blues and stride piano evenings with John Musto. A champion of American art song, he has premiered works of John Corigliano, Paul Moravec, Ned Rorem, William Bolcom, Mark Adamo, John Musto, Richard Danielpour, Tobias Picker, Robert Beaser, Lowell Liebermann, Harold Meltzer, and Lee Hoiby, many of which were commissioned by NYFOS. Mr. Blier's extensive discography includes the premiere recording of Leonard Bernstein's Arias and Barcarolles (Koch International), which won a Grammy Award. His most recent releases are Spanish Love Songs (Bridge Records), recorded live at the Caramoor International Music Festival with Lorraine Hunt Lieberson, Joseph Kaiser, and Michael Barrett; the world premiere recording of Bastianello(John Musto) and Lucrezia (William Bolcom), a double bill of one-act comic operas set to librettos by Mark Campbell; and his latest recording, Quiet Please, an album of jazz standards with vocalist Darius de Haas. His writings on opera have been featured in Opera News and the Yale Review. A native New Yorker, he received a Bachelor's Degree with Honors in English Literature at Yale University, where he studied piano with Alexander Farkas. He completed his musical studies in New York with Martin Isepp and Paul Jacobs. ABOUT NYFOS (www.nyfos.org) - Now in its 27th season, New York Festival of Song (NYFOS) is dedicated to creating intimate song concerts of great beauty and originality. Weaving music, poetry, history and humor into evenings of compelling theater, NYFOS fosters community among artists and audiences. Each program entertains and educates in equal measure. Founded by pianists Michael Barrett and Steven Blier in 1988, NYFOS continues to produce its series of thematic song programs, drawing together rarely-heard songs of all kinds, overriding traditional distinctions between high and low performance genres, exploring the character and language of other cultures, and the personal voices of song composers and lyricists. Since its founding, NYFOS has particularly celebrated American song. Among the many highlights is the double bill of one-act comic operas, Bastianello and Lucrezia, by John Musto and William Bolcom, both with libretti by Mark Campbell, commissioned and premiered by NYFOS in 2008 and recorded on Bridge Records. In addition to Bastianello and Lucrezia and the 2008 Bridge Records release of Spanish Love Songs with Joseph Kaiser and the late Lorraine Hunt Lieberson, NYFOS has produced five recordings on the Koch label, including a Grammy Award-winning disc of Bernstein's Arias and Barcarolles, and the Grammy-nominated recording of Ned Rorem's Evidence of Things Not Seen (also a NYFOS commission) on New World Records. Soon to come: a CD of Spanish song-Basque, Catalan, Castilian, and Sephardic-on the GPR label, with soprano Corinne Winters accompanied by Steven Blier. In November 2010, NYFOS debuted NYFOS Next, a mini-series for new songs, hosted by guest composers in intimate venues. Starting in 2013-2014, the series moved to Opera America's National Opera Center. In 2014, NYFOS introduced its unamplified cabaret series After Hours at HENRY's Restaurant on the Upper West Side, drawing full houses and superlative voices accompanied by Blier at the piano. NYFOS is passionate about nurturing the artistry and careers of young singers, and has developed training residencies around the country, including with The Juilliard School's Ellen and James S. Marcus Institute for Vocal Arts (now in its 9th year); Caramoor Center for Music and the Arts (its 6th year in March 2014); San Francisco Opera Center (over 15 years as of April 2013); Glimmerglass Opera (2008-2010); and its newest project, NYFOS@North Fork in Orient, NY. NYFOS's concert series, touring programs, radio broadcasts, recordings, and educational activities continue to spark new interest in the creative possibilities of the song program, and have inspired the creation of thematic vocal series around the world.?

a review of Daniel Okulitch

Publication: Journal of Singing Author: Berg, Gregory Date published: September 1, 2012 Daniel Okulitch: The New American Art Song. Daniel Okulitch, baritone; Ricky Ian Gordon, Jake Heggie, Lowell Liebermann, Glen Roven, piano. (GPR Records GPRB004SKJZ0Y; 70:48) Ricky Ian Gordon: Quiet Lives: "Bus Stop," "Three Floors," "The Crazy Woman," "Virginia Woolf," "Interior," "As Planned," "Kid in the Park," "Lullaby." Jake Heggie: Of Gods and Cats: "In the Beginning," "Once Upon a Universe." Glen Hoven: Songs from the Underground "He Wishes for the Cloths of Heaven," "Ozymandias," "The Expulsion from Eden," "Like a Beacon," "Composed upon Westminister Bridge," "Teeth," "This is Just to Say," "What am I After All," "Song," "London Airport," "The Leader," "Knightsbridge Ballade," "Come to the Edge," "London Airport, reprise," "In My Craft or Sullen Art." Lowell Liebermann: Night Songs. "Good Night," "She Tells Her Love While Half Asleep," "A Variation on 'To Say To Go To Sleep'." This release may be the most exciting and impressive art song recording of the last decade, thanks to the superlative calibre of songs it contains and the marvelous singer who brings them thrillingly to life. Baritone Daniel Okulitch is among the most highly regarded artists of his generation, with an impressive resumé that includes the role of Schaunard in Baz Luhrmann's groundbreaking Broadway production of La bohème from a decade ago. Although the charismatic Okulitch has won great acclaim in such mainstream roles as Don Giovanni and Figaro, his greatest headlines thus far came as the star of Howard Shore's science fiction opera The Fly, in which he appeared completely naked in one critical scene. The baring of his powerful physique may have attracted some extra attention to the L.A. Opera's production, but what garnered the most meaningful praise for Okulitch was his heart-rending portrayal of the tragic scientist Seth Brundle, while contending with a difficult and largely ungrateful musical score. It was the kind of accomplishment that an ordinary artist could not have hoped to achieve, and one can only hope-and, if there is any justice in this world, expect-that many more such opportunities will be his. Most singers resist comparisons with colleagues and counterparts, no matter how illustrious, but one hopes that Okulitch would not mind being compared to the superb American baritone Walter Cassel. His long and distinguished career included impressive stints at both the Metropolitan Opera and New York City Opera, roles in several Hollywood musicals, and a plethora of performances in live music theater. That thorough blending of genres surely helped Cassel hone a singing style that combined operatic grandeur with down-to-earth humanity, a style that served him especially well in creating the role of Horace Tabor in The Ballad of Baby Doe. His artistic assets included a glorious voice, authentic expressiveness, and diction that was beyond reproach. Okulitch's work here, while uniquely his own, is sometimes eerily reminiscent of his highly regarded predecessor, and one anticipates that Okulitch will ultimately enjoy success of similar dimensions. He is certainly already on his way. Thus far this discussion has been limited to the singer headlining this project, but it is the dazzling quartet of composers at hand that most dramatically distinguishes this recital from the run of the mill. Ricky Ian Gordon and Jake Heggie scarcely require a word of introduction for anyone conversant in modern opera and art song; they are the cream of the crop. Lowell Liebermann is a more familiar name in instrumental circles, with a host of highly acclaimed works to his credit, but the success of his opera The Picture of Dorian Gray leads one to hope that many more vocal works are in his future. The fourth composer, Glen Roven, may be the least familiar to JOS readers, but his resumé includes two presidential inaugural gala concerts, the one-woman shows of Liza Minnellli and Patti LuPone, the final televised appearances of Frank Sinatra and Sammy Davis, Jr., and conducting everyone from Placido Domingo to Hootie and the Blowfish. He has also fashioned his own English translations of several Mozart operas and Schubert's Winterreise, and his many original compositions include highly regarded works inspired by classic children's books like Runaway Bunny and Goodnight Moon. Roven also happens to be the artistic director for GPR Records, so he as much as anyone is responsible for assembling these four composers who also serve as pianists for their respective works. Roven's Songs of the Underground is a cycle consisting of fifteen highly diverse songs that demonstrate the composer's inexhaustibly rich imagination and flair for the dramatic. The poems include works by Yeats, Shelley, Milton, Whitman, Auden, Wordsworth, and Dylan Thomas, among others, and Roven treats these texts with discernment and sensitivity. Among the most impressive of these songs is "Ozymandias," a setting of Shelley's poem in which a traveler describes the ruined wreckage of a once mighty statue now half sunk in desert sands. This is one of the songs where Okulitch can unleash the massive majesty of his voice up to high F as he intones the words just barely visible on the statue's pedestal: "My name is Ozymandias, king of kings. Look on my works, ye mighty, and despair!" Then the composer strips away the grandeur of the music to a bleak emptiness as we hear these poignant words: "Nothing beside remains. Round the decay of that colossal wreck, boundless and bare, the lone and level sands stretch far away." Roven's vividly illustrative music both puts us at the scene and prompts feelings of contempt as well as sympathy for the arrogance of this now forgotten ruler. Not all of these songs are quite so monumental. "Teeth" is a playful salute to English teeth which ends with diese words: "Let's sing a song of praise to them-Three Cheers for the Brown, Grey and Black!" Roven garbs the poem in music that is off-kilter both harmonically and rhythmically without being so odd as to get in the way. Another fun-loving song is "The Leader," in which someone desperately begs to be the leader (of what exactly we can only guess), only to say upon finally getting what he wants, "Yippee, I'm the leader! Okay, what shall we do?" This song is especially hilarious as its performed here because Okulitch has such a powerful and virile voice, and yet manages the quicksilver quality of this childlike song so effortlessly. Other notable songs include "The Expulsion of Eden," a setting of Milton's intriguing poem that seeks to describe exactly how and with what emotions Adam and Eve exited the Garden of Eden. The driving, slashing musical figures Roven has crafted bring the scene and the couple's pained emotions vividly to life for us. These are just a few of the songs that comprise this fascinating cycle, which one can only hope will be taken up by baritones anywhere and everywhere who are equal to its considerable challenges. The other three works are not nearly so long, yet offer up great pleasures and treasures of their own. Ricky Ian Gordon's Quiet Lives is a superbly crafted set of seven songs that take us inside the lives of some unconventional and misunderstood people. One especially poignant poem, "Interior," describes the house of an older woman who lives alone and wishes to shut out the pain of the outside world. "Her mind lives tidily," so says the poet, "apart from the cold and noise and pain-and bolts the door against her heart out wailing in the rain." In James Schuyler's poem "Virginia Woolf" the narrator wishes that they could have somehow been around on that fateful day in 1941 when writer Virginia Woolf killed herself by drowning. Gordon's music perfectly captures the emotional ambiguity and confusion of the narrator and everyone else trying to make sense of such a tragedy, even after all these years. There is much beautiful music in this set, but nothing lovelier than the flowing lullaby that brings the cycle to an exquisite finish. Jake Heggie's Of Cats and Dogs, by contrast, contains only two songs, but yields more smiles and laughter than the rest of this generous disk combined. "In the Beginning" tells the story of creation from the peculiar perspective of a cat, and at least one passage in the accompaniment perfectly imitates the sound of a cat strolling on the keys of a piano, which is a delicious touch. So is the way the song so adroitly shifts from slinky and sensuous passages to stentorian pronouncements from the Almighty. "Once upon a Universe," on the other hand, paints the amusing yet not quite comprehensible scenario of God being a little kid and being chided by his mother: "Don't play with your creation!" It's a marvelously imaginative text and Heggie runs with it like only he can. Finally, the disk includes Lowell Liebermann's Night Songs, which features music that is a bit more conventional yet incredibly lovely. This is also the only set of the four which holds together with perfect cohesiveness, and in this company that is high praise indeed. It's fair to say that this generous collection does not happen to present as wide a swath of music styles as one might want from a disk audaciously titled "The New American Art Song." One looks in vain for anything that even hints at the avant garde or other styles less accessible than what is to be found here. No, this is meant to be a mainstream celebration of the modern art song as performed by one of our best baritones, accompanied by each of the four illustrious composers represented here. It's a marvelous concept, executed brilliantly. Read more: http://www.readperiodicals.com/201209/2744534491.html#ixzz3HAsKjOSq

Goodnight Moon Syberite 5 Review in Sarasota!

CONCERT REVIEW: Wit, beauty and challenge meet at Forward Festival By Richard Storm , Herald-Tribune / Monday, May 12, 2014 It should be no surprise that Sybarite5, the string quintet founded by a Sarasotan, brought their usual mix of fierce energy, tonal beauty and intellectual challenge to the finale of their Forward Festival — Coming Together, the new festival incorporating both local and international talent. Sybarite5 will collaborate with Key Chorale for concerts that fuse classical music and rock. / COURTESY PHOTO Sybarite5. COURTESY PHOTO Sybarite5, comprised of Sami Merdinian and Sarah Whitney, violins, Angela Pickett, viola, Laura Metcalf, cello, and Sarasota product Louis Levitt on bass, has developed a repertoire that mixes historical landmark music with the newest output from Led Zeppelin, Radiohead, and Andy Akiho, the chamber music star of today. Akiho's "Revolve" had its world premiere at this event; Radiohead's "No Surprises" was heard in a lovely and touching arrangement for string quintet, created after the ensemble had performed the original with Key Chorale in Sarasota in an event titled "Mozart Meets Radiohead." Joined by the Sarasota-based Chroma Quartet (Christopher Takeda and Jennifer Best Takeda, violins, Michael McClelland, viola, and Abe Feder, cello) the ensemble grew in intensity and impact. Chroma Quartet / COURTESY PHOTO Chroma Quartet / COURTESY PHOTO In this combination we heard a glowing performance of Claude Debussy's Sacred and Profane Dances performed brilliantly by harpist Cheryl Losey; Osvoldo Golijov's new-tango "Last Round;" and "Coming Together" by Frederick Rzewski;,a strong musical interpretation of the festival's title, in which the combined strings were joined by Blythe Gaissert, soprano, George Nickson, percussion and Djordje Nesic, piano. Blythe Gaissert-Levitt / COURTESY PHOTO Blythe Gaissert-Levitt / COURTESY PHOTO Gaissert's impressively lyric mezzo-soprano was both touching and inspiring in her rendition of Margaret Wise Brown's children's story "Good Night, Moon," newly set to music by Glen Roven specifically for the festival. However, although her singing was not part of the compelling tonal fabric of "Coming Together," her beautiful speaking voice (occasionally joined by those of the ensemble) was riveting as the drama grew and touched our souls. All in all, this was another milestone in Sarasota's growth as an arts destination. CONCERT REVIEW GALA FINALE CONCERT. Forward Festival, presented by Sybarite5. Reviewed May 11 at Holley Hall. CONCERT REVIEW GALA FINALE CONCERT. Forward Festival, presented by Sybarite5. Reviewed May 11 at Holley Hall. avatar RICHARD STORM Richard Storm writes about classical musical and opera for ArtsSarasota.com. Make sure to "Like" Arts Sarasota on Facebook for news and reviews of the arts.

from Huffington Post ART ISN'T EASY

ART ISN’T EASY With blogs posting almost daily about how opera is dying or dead, with even the head of the Metropolitan Opera, in a pre-strike negotiating tactic (that badly misfired) claiming, “Grand opera is in itself a kind of a dinosaur of an art form,” I was over the moon with the all the attention given to the Met’s production of The Death of Klinghoffer: articles on the front page of major newspapers across the country, world-wide television coverage, huge protests at the opening night. In an obviously bad choice of a cliché, I might say “Now that’s good for the Jews!” Well, for the world of opera anyway. I admit it: I am one of those who think any kind of publicity is good. And when was the last time an opera made the front page of The NY Times? Understand that I also love when actors make political speeches on Award Shows. I believe that if you have an audience of a billion people, say something important. Don’t thank your agent. I remember as a little kid the first time I heard the word Apartheid was when Stevie Wonder talked about it on the Grammy’s. Despite my enthusiasm for all things politically incorrect, I was completely surprised by my reaction to Klinghoffer. I was invited to the dress rehearsal and arrived with certain pre-conceived notions. One was that it was going to be much less controversial than the protestors were saying because after all, it’s “only an opera” and the protester fully admitted they had not seen the piece. Two, I believed I wouldn’t much care for the music. Wrong on both accounts. I was in shock! It was so much more political than I thought. In fact, even though I’ve spent thirty years seeing theater, I don’t think I’ve every seen a production as political. And while it wasn’t all that anti-Israel to me, it was incredibly pro-Palestinian. When the lead terrorist Molqi sings (underscored by desperate music), “We are not criminals and we are not vandals, but men of ideals,” it is clear that the opera is asking for us to understand these men and sympathize. I won’t soon forget the scene at the end of Act One where the Palestinians were singing against what I could only assume is the wall erected to keep Palestinian terrorists out of the county, and hundreds of projections of pro-Palestinian graffiti (and anti-Israel) kept bombarding the audience with slogan after slogan while enormous green flags waved and the chorus sang about “their” land at the top of their voices. This was the type of patriotic song that every country in the world has, a song of love of one’s country, one’s land, coupled the dream of never surrendering, with pulsating violins, trumpets blaring and timpani pounding. Very powerful stuff. But very one sided. The composer and librettist of the opera were quoted as how the opera is fair and balanced, not really favoring one side or the other. Here’s a rule: never, never, never believe what a composer or librettist tell the press. Listen to the music; that’s where they reveal their true feelings. To be clear, I am politically pro-Israel. I love the country and have conducted there many times. The pro-Palestinian politics of this opera did not make me feel any more sympathy for their cause. But I was thrilled to see this huge, emotional statement. For what is opera anyway but huge, over the top, emotional statements? Will it make the Zionists rethink the necessity for a Jewish state? No. Will it change the minds of people who believe a two-state situation is the only answer to the violence? No. Will it make both sides think, even the tiniest bit about the other side? Doubtful. But will it draw more attention the conflict that has existed in Israel for many, many years? Definitely. And that attention has been generated by a work of art, an opera. Good! As for my other surprise, I loved the music. And that made me very happy. After all, no matter what anyone says or does, opera is about the music And this score is spectacular: choral writing to raise the rafters, incandescent and powerful arias, funny comic turns, and magnificently dense orchestral writing. Everything a great opera needs. While I’ve enjoyed certain minimalist pieces, Adams’s Slow Ride in a Fast Machine, and the Jerome Robbins and Philip Glass ballet, Glass Pieces, I’ve never enjoyed minimalist operas. Nixon in China gave me a headache and I left after the first act. I liked Adams’s Doctor Atomic a bit better, but mainly because of the production and the cast, certainly not because of the score. From the first notes of the “Palestinian Chorus,” with its mysterious F-minor chords that shimmer like the desert sun, I was hooked. Yes, it had the minimalist underpinnings, but what caught my attention were the gorgeous melodies in the orchestra and in the choral writing. With the counter-point, the harmonies, the colors, the music felt more than contemporary; it felt ageless. The musical building-up to the shooting was cataclysmic, almost unbearably spine tingling, like a minimalist Verdi. Mrs. Klinghoffer’s final aria was a tour de force for the mezzo-soprano Michaela Martens, so powerful it certainly added weight to Jewish side of the political scale. But not nearly enough for there to be anything resembling balance. Sadly, I couldn’t be at the opening to experience the event. I was at a fund- raiser where we spent the better part of our meal discussing this opera. A friend who had seen it before at BAM complained about a scene set in New Jersey where Jews bicker endlessly and loudly. I told him it had been cut. (Opera composers are certainly allowed to revise—the original Madama Butterfly was a flop. I don’t know why they revised Klinghoffer so I can’t say if they had ceded to criticism or not.) Our dinner conversation got quite heated even venturing into a discussion of The Merchant of Venice and whether or not Shakespeare harbored anti-Semitic feelings or whether Shylock was an empathetic character. I thought, well that doesn’t happen every day! Then as our main course was served, my cell phone started buzzing. I started to get blow-by-blow text messages from a friend who was at the Met: “Helicopters overhead!” “A protestor just interrupted the show.” “Another Scream.” But the SMS I was most happy to receive was the last: “Huge standing ovation. The audience is going crazy!” Metzuyan! (That’s Hebrew, Google-translate it!) Glen Roven is an Emmy-award winning composer who is also Artistic Director of GPRrecords.

A rave review for THE VINEYARD SONGS!!!!!!!!

New Music Collective Concert on April 18, 2014, at Spectrum (NYC Lower East Side) Posted on: April 20th, 2014 by Art Leonard No Comments I was invited to attend the concert presented under the auspices of New Music Collective at Spectrum on April 18 by Glen Roven, composer-conductor-record producer extraordinaire. We became acquainted when Glen was commissioned to contribute a song to the 5 Boroughs Music Festival’s Songbook and I attended one of the presentations of that project. His GPR Records is making an important contribution to preserving and advancing American art song as performed by exciting young performers. So when he invited me to attend this concert to hear the premiere of his new song cycle, The Vineyard Songs, Op. 33, by soprano Laura Strickling and Michael Brofman, I resolved to go despite my unfamiliarity with the venue. Spectrum is a second-story floor-through apartment in an ancient narrow building on Ludlow Street, just a few blocks from where my great-grandfather Jacob Cohen had his tailor shop when he arrived in the New World around 1920. So I get an eerie feeling walking around in this neighborhood, knowing that an ancestor who died long before I was born once walked those streets and, given the age of the buildings in the neighborhood, saw many of the same sights I was seeing as I scurried eastward on DeLancey Street to get there in time for the concert. I was familiar with only three composer names on the program: Glen Roven, of course, Steven Gerber, and Lowell Lieberman. I’d say that of the three Lieberman is the one who has broken through into the more general consciousness of music lovers to the greatest extent, but his inclusion on this program actually seemed a bit out of place, since he was represented by three of the “Four Etudes on Songs of Robert Franz,” charmingly rendered by pianist Miori Sugiyama, which sounded like relatively faithful piano transcriptions of 19th century lieder, not early 21st century creations! First things first: Glen’s song cycle is gorgeous. He has set verses by Judith B. Herman, Justen Ahern and Angela M. Franklin, evoking the experience of spending time on the island of Martha’s Vineyard. I’ve never been to the Vineyard, so I can’t attest to the accuracy of the feelings summoned up by this melding of verse and music, but I know a fine song cycle when I hear one, and this is a fine song cycle, expertly performed for this world premiere. My enthusiasm for American art song dates to my college years, when I fell deeply for Charles Ives’s songs. Ives really invented the naturalistic setting of idiomatic American verse, liberating us from the constraints of England’s folksong and Germanic-Mendelssohnian precedents, and I heard the same sort of freedom in Glen’s songs. Actually, most of the cycle is concerned with Judith Herman’s songs, six out of the eight numbers, and the two by Ahern and Franklin are the shortest songs, so I would consider this largely a Herman/Roven cycle, and the two combine wonderfully to enhance each other in a unified artistic expression. After the concert, I asked Glen whether these will be recorded, since I want to get to know them better, and he assured me that they would be forthcoming. After all, he pointed out, he owns a record label. . . Happy composer who owns a record label.

ANDY HARDY GROWS UP, the prequel to the NY TIMES Article

Andy Hardy Grows Up by Glen Roven Sugar Babies wasn’t supposed to be a hit. The 1979 Broadway insiders “knew” no one wanted to see two has-been movie stars doing hokey jokes from a long-dead low-brow genre. Yet, it was, a big, fat, lines-around-the-box-office smash. And why? Two words: Mickey Rooney. The show was, however, a disaster in rehearsals. Directors came and went, songs rehearsed in the afternoon were in the trash by 5 PM, the producers kept bringing executives from the movie studio trying to hook them up with the chorus girls instead of paying attention to the show. But most importantly and disastrously, the sketches, those traditional stalwarts of any Burlesque show (meet ya round the corner in a haaaaalf an hour) weren’t funny. To make matters worse, Mickey barely showed up at rehearsal. He’d come in for a few hours, torture whoever was directing the show that day, then simply vanish. Ann Miller would be diligently rehearsing her tap numbers but Mickey was nowhere to be found. The show tried out in San Francisco at the Curran Theater and the technical rehearsals fared no better than rehearsals in New York. Sets weren’t finished, costumes didn’t arrive, the old comics hired couldn’t remember their lines and of course, Mickey was usually MIA. It was with great trepidation that we started the first preview. I conducted the temporary overture and it received tepid applause. Then the curtain went up, a spotlight hit this 5 foot, bald, fat, little old man, but the audience went bananas. They wanted to see him. The needed to see him. The timing of the show seemed to be perfect. The audience remembered him like he was their long lost brother. He wasn’t trying to be young, he wasn’t trying to be a movie star, he was just Mickey Rooney. And that was wonderful. He stood there and the applause was defining. It kept building and building and building. I could see Mickey’s face: he was overwhelmed with the love. Here was a washed up movie star (at 16, the biggest box office draw in the world) whose recent career consisted of doing sex comedies at dinner theater in towns nobody heard of; now he was in a Broadway bound musical and the audience was loving him, without him doing a thing. He couldn’t believe it. I saw it on his face The opening number, where gorgeous chorus girls pulled every old gag in the book (busty nurses wielding enormous hypodermic needs, pants suspenders being cut) was choreographed around Mickey, since he never came to rehearsals; he just had to stand there and the number happened around him. But with this opening applause and his confidence soaring, Mickey took over the number. He was a star reborn and wasn’t going to stand still. He chased the chorus girls, he flirted with them, he looked completely amazed when chorus girls bumped him from the rear, and bumped him again! He did take after take, double take after double take, and the audience was with him completely. That was just the opening number. Then came the first sketch. And miracle of miracles, it was funny. Because of Mickey. He was a natural clown, in the old fashioned sense of the word. His timing was impeccable, his ad libs, hysterical and his facial expressions, priceless. Burlesque is really about dirty old men being lecherous towards pretty young, but busty, girls. Maybe because the audience remember Mickey as Andy Hardy, and we all knew how innocent the judge’s son was, his leering’s didn’t seem all that lascivious. (Remember this was 1979!) He worked the comics on stage, the chorus girls and especially the audience. The old jokes were getting belly laughs. And Mickey was having the time of his life. In a flash, life had turned around. He was a star again. He was in a hit. I have my personal theories about why Mickey was so brilliant in this part. Before he was Andy Hardy, before he was Mickey McGuire, he was Joe Yule, Jr., son of a famous Burlesque comedian whose work has been lost to the sands of time. Mickey wasn’t playing a fictional character who would romp with Judy, he was channeling his father. He was a father (of six) paying tribute to his own father. He was also, in my opinion, a true genius. As he began participating more in the shows development, the entire cast and creative team were stunned as he revealed more and more skills: he could play drums like Buddy Rich, play jazz piano like Gershwin, and of course, could sing and dance with more grace, style and energy, than performers half his age. Perhaps because he was so small, all his talent couldn’t be bottled up in his pint sized body. It had to be released and when it was, it exploded with the energy of an atomic bomb. The creative staff was as shocked by the audience’s reaction as Mickey was. They all thought the show would be Ann’s, probably because she actually had come to rehearsals. But it was clear from the first moment who the real star was and they acted accordingly. All sketches that didn’t involve Mickey were cut, as was a very sweet roller-skating number. The producers thought it wasn’t perhaps the best idea to have their star (and their meal ticket) sliding around on skates when with one wrong bump he could end up on top of the Tuba player in the pit. The biggest change in the show in San Francisco was the addition of the medley of Jimmy McHugh songs. For the first time, Mickey and Ann would come out together and sing. We tried to rehearse this number in NYC (in the toilet of 890 Broadway because there were no walls up yet at the studio) but Mickey never came to rehearsal so we just let it slide. The producers knew that the audience needed Ann and Mickey to do something together. It was still a challenge to get him to rehearsal. He was slated to sing, “I Can’t Give You Anything But Love.” Hugh Martin, the legendary MGM songwriter/arranger was brought in to help. Hugh, who wrote “The Trolley Song” was one of the music coaches at the Little Red School House on the MGM lot where Judy, Elizabeth, Jane, Mickey and Ann all grew up, so he was almost a father figure to Mickey. Around Hugh, Mickey immediately reverted to his fifteen year old self, naughty yes, but respectful. It was Hugh who, trying to get Mickey to focus, (and Hugh told me he had the same problem at MGM), suggested Mickey play the piano and accompany himself. Our stars were terrified at the technical and orchestra rehearsal of the medley. It was finally going into the show and Ann and Mickey felt under-rehearsed. I remember Mickey watching me for all he was worth during that rehearsal, hoping to remember the lyrics, hoping I could prompt him if he didn’t, hoping he’d hear the drums, all those things that go through a performers head when they are nervous. Of course, they had nothing to worry about. The audience went crazy as two legends came out dancing and singing. Together. Although I knew they were still anxious, the rousing applause that began then number gave them the needed shot of adrenaline. I call it “Doctor Footlights.” Mickey broke people’s hearts as he sing “Anything but Love.” The audience (and the orchestra) couldn’t believe he played so beautifully and sensatively, using the most sophisticated jazz chords imaginable. (Who knows who taught him jazz? Ellington?) For the first time in the show, he was introspective and subdued as he quietly serenaded Ann. Annie, channeling Ethel Merman, belted “Ridin’ High” to the last note in the balcony. But, it was the two of them cavorting during “Sunny Side of the Street” that catapulted the audience into show biz heaven. Mickey and Ann were suddenly 17 years old, and the entire audience was transported back to their own childhood movie palaces where they first encountered Mickey and Ann. Of course, everyone knew Mickey and Ann (and the audiences themselves) were much older. But Ann and Mickey could still deliver. They weren’t merely survivors. That still could stop a show. That first performance of the Medley was the best it was ever done. The sound man forgot to turn off Mickey’s mike after they took their bows (and bows and bows) and the whole audience heard Mickey say, “Hey, how about that, Ann. They liked us!” Glen Roven is an Emmy winner who’s new musical, The 5,000 Fingers of Doctor T opens on Broadway next season.

TAKING A TAXI! My article about Mickey Rooney from the NY TIMES!

ArtsBeat - New York Times Blog SEARCH ‘Taking a Taxi’: Remembering Mickey Rooney on Broadway By GLEN ROVEN APRIL 8, 2014, 12:25 PM 11 Comments E-MAIL FACEBOOK TWITTER SAVE MORE Mickey Rooney in "Sugar Babies" at London's Savoy Theater in 1988. Express Newspapers, via Associated Press Mickey Rooney in “Sugar Babies” at London’s Savoy Theater in 1988. Glen Roven, the original musical director of “Sugar Babies,” shared this reminiscence of working with Mickey Rooney on Broadway in what became the actor’s late-in-life comeback triumph. Mr. Rooney died on Sunday at 93. After bumpy tryouts in San Francisco, Los Angeles, Detroit, Chicago and Philadelphia,“Sugar Babies” opened on Broadway on Oct. 8, 1979. The show — a celebration of burlesque starring Mickey Rooney and Ann Miller — finally settled down for nice, comfortable long run. Except with Mickey it was always a roller coaster. As the person who conducted the show every night, I was along for the ride for almost three memorable years. I remember meeting him for the first time. I was taller, but not by much, and we could look each other in the eye. I was 19; I said I hoped that my being young didn’t bother him. “Kid, when I was 16 I was the biggest box office star in the world,” he said. “You’ll do fine.” Our rapport continued during the run. When the spotlight first hit Mickey during each performance at the Mark Hellinger Theater, if he didn’t get the gigantic ovation he had gotten used to, he looked at me and would whisper, “Taking a taxi tonight, Glen.” That meant he would take all the numbers at a breakneck speed no matter what. He would still give a brilliant performance, just faster than usual. A lot faster. I was able to keep up with him, barely. But I enjoyed the challenge. Things would be fine in the solo numbers, but in the duet with Ann, it was a bit trickier. He would be “taking a taxi” and Ann would do it at the exact same tempo every night. Conducting a duet at two different tempos was something I never learned in school. One night, I remember, there was a particular sporting event that Mickey wanted to watch on pay per view. But the show was 10 minutes too long and he wouldn’t make it home in time for the start. We had a juggler in the show and he was doing so well that the producers gave him two spots. Mickey offered him $10,000 to cut 10 minutes off his routines — a thousand for every minute cut. Mickey saw the beginning of the game. I once got a page on the intercom during intermission. “Mr. Roven to Mr. Rooney’s dressing room.” I panicked, quickly running through the first act in my head. Did I do something wrong? Was a tempo too fast, too slow, did I miss a cue? I gently knocked on his dressing-room door. There was Mick (as he liked to be called) in his underwear, jumping around. “Glen, I just thought of this great movie. I want to do it for you.” And Mickey Rooney then proceeded to act out this entire movie musical in his dressing room — all the parts, all the songs, all the choreography. I was 19 and there was Mickey, performing just for me in his underwear. My favorite bit of his in the show was the end of the first act when he was in drag playing Francine. (“Someone just asked me if that was Hortense? I said, ‘Why no. She looks perfectly relaxed to me.’”) Mickey knew I loved it, so he would do anything to crack me up, and of course the funnier he was the more the audience laughed. One inspired evening Francine, completely out of the blue, took an improvised world tour, announcing she had gotten a group rate from the Hadassah girls. I nearly fell off the podium. I remember the night after the Oscars, the year he was nominated for “The Black Stallion.” We had canceled a performance so he could attend. After so many decades in show business, he was the favorite, but he ended up losing to Melvyn Douglas for “Being There.” The night he returned, when the spotlight found him as usual, he received the biggest ovation ever, bigger than the first preview in San Francisco, bigger than opening night in New York. It simply wouldn’t stop. He tried to start the show but the audience wouldn’t let him. Finally as the applause begin to die down, one woman shouted out, “You should have won!” And the applause started up again. Mickey start to tear up. I started to cry. I saw the entire company crying. That’s the performance I will always remember.