Critics of classical music and opera in the New York Times have seen and heard much more than reviews. This is what has recently made them crazy. Leave your own favorites in the comments.
“Her Story” at Kennedy Center
There was a time in recent memory when Julia Wolf's “Her Story” performance of “Her Story” for women's chamber choirs and orchestras was safely passed. Works like Oratorio are inspired in part by women's voting rights and are based on the truthful words of Abigail Adams and Sojourner for the sophisticated and ferocious explanations of misogyny that American women have endured.
Citing the First Lady and the Abolitionists is not so controversial. At the time of the premiere of this work, in 2022, it had commissioned and revived works by women and other underrated groups, not only orchestras.
However, when the National Symphony Orchestra, Lorelei Ensemble and conductor Marine Alsop performed “Her Story” at the Kennedy Center in Washington on March 1, the concert was scheduled long ago, with the center's president, Deborah Lutter, firing a shot and a sudden change in which President Trump set up the chair.
The semi-stage works have previously been programmed by the Nashville Symphony Orchestra and the Boston Symphony Orchestra. At the Kennedy Center, 10 singers seamlessly blended their voices and nurtured them with the strength of White Hot. They covered their mouths and gasped between the phrases as if they were fighting their restraint. The chord clusters and tiny dissonances had the sharp accuracy of a razor. The unanimity of the tone and expression was exquisite.
The National Symphony Orchestra did not consistently match the singer's vividness, but with the notable exceptions in the percussion section, launched a fantastic drum beat after Adams warned her husband, the second president of America. sama zahr
Wynton Marsalis
Promoting the connection between jazz and classical performance is nothing new to Winton Marsalis. Vintage broadcasts from his PBS series Marsalis on Music can jump from Prokofiev to Gershwin, Ives and Ellington.
So far, his concerts with jazz at the Lincoln Center Orchestra have focused on American style. (Prokofiev is not yet.) However, programming still uses his approach. Works by composers related to the jazz classical hybrid movement known as the Third Stream are evidenced, as are the unusual arrangements of core classics, such as Gershwin's “Summertime.” Last month, when he introduced Joseph Brackett's Shaker song, widely known as “Simple Gift,” Marsalis also made a note of Copland's adoption of the song in “The Spring of Appalachian.”
That night there was a newly commissioned arrangement of “Simple Gifts” by Jason Haynesworth, with two members of the sax section doubled with flute or clarinet. It managed to lead Copland. But eventually, some advanced post-bop harmonies began, and soprano saxophonist Abdias Armenteros even ventured into striped notes that opened a temporary portal to experimentalism in the late 1960s. The casual, extensive coverage made the performance a thrill. The entire concert, entitled “Jazz Americana,” is fully available on Jazz Live, the orchestra's streaming channel. Seth Colter's Wall
Third coast percussion
When Zakir Hussein was a newborn, his father took him to his arm and recited his son's prayers, similar to the traditions among Indian Muslims. But his father whispered rhythm to his ears instead of blessings. Hussein grew up and became a fatherly tabla master, mastering classic North Indian traditions while building bridges across musical genres. One of his last projects before he died in 73 in December was “Tweet Time.” This is a composition of a tabla and percussion quartet commissioned by Third Coast Percussion, which he recorded in that ensemble.
“Murmurs in Time” marks the New York premiere at Zankelhall on February 27th, with a spectacular performance that pays homage to the humanitarian values at the heart of Hussein and his art, and Hussein's student, eloquent tabla player Salar Nader joined the third Coast player. The piece is two movements, culminating with a complex firework of cross-sectional uplifts and rainbow-colored sounds. But it was the “reciting” that was the first move to stay with me. This was a soft web of spells that took root in the group's technical virtuosity in basic human communication. Corinna Da Fonseca-Wollheim
The tribute during the Academy Awards on Sunday reminded us that while the January wildfires in Los Angeles were a bit of news, they remained in the minds of those around them and continued to have a dramatic impact.
Shortly before the fire began, pianist Igor Levitt was an honorary fellow at Thomas Mann House in Pacific Palisades, California. From a safe distance he saw disasters spread and the future of historic homes became uncertain. Helpless, he did what a musician could do at such a moment. He provided a small encore, moment of contemplation, as a coda for his January 12 recital at Carnegie Hall.
This was followed by Bach's Chromatic Fantasia and Fuga's Superhuman Program, followed by Brahms' OP. Ten ballads, and, to the most breathtaking, a solo transcription of Beethoven's seventh symphony list. (Last season he took on “Eroica.” What's next?) After a few bows, he returned to the piano bench to perform the Bach Kohler prelude “Nun Comb, Del Heiden Hylan,” which was transcribed by Feruccio Bousni.
Like music and music and Levitt's delicate approach to it, he is not angry when he suffers. Instead, he expressed a reflective tranquility with positive tenacity. Today's prayers, look to tomorrow. Joshua Barron
Tchaikovsky's Fourth Symphony
Covering the debut of conductor Daniele Rustioni with the New York Philharmonic in early January is my longtime obsession at a small spot in the orchestra repertoire: Schello's Piccolo solo from Tchaikovsky's Fourth Symphony.
It's just a moment, but it embodies the atmosphere of that movement. After the string instruments tweet pizzicato, the wind initially exchanges bittersweet lines, then more and more martial arts. Piccolo brings a flashback of the marching band Fife, and then the party really starts at a tempo where, at least in part, speed is determined by how sadistic the conductor of the day.
The clarinet makes a turn with a short dashing dance, and Piccolo takes it on not just once but twice, before Sherzo returns to the lace picikat. For players of this little instrument, there are very few sentences that are dangerous. That's a lot of notes. It's very expensive. It's very troublesome on the fingers. It's very fast. But when someone lands it, it captures joy and danger, physical and emotional senses of the limbs, Tchaikovsky's performance at its best. Zachary Woolfe
