For latest reviews, see “Some Recent Reviews.”

Below are reviews that appeared in 2012:

Review: Choral Arts, Dr. Robert Bode conducting; December 15, 2012.

By Melinda Bargreen

In all the hustle and bustle that precedes the holidays, music lovers know there is one event guaranteed to provide the most aesthetically beautiful gift of peace.

It’s the annual Christmas concert of Choral Arts, the nationally award-winning Seattle-based chorus that was founded by Richard Sparks (a choral director who also founded the highly regarded Seattle Pro Musica; Sparks now teaches in Texas). Choral Arts is now directed by Dr. Robert Bode, who teaches at the University of Missouri-Kansas City, but returns regularly to Seattle for rehearsal periods with Choral Arts.

It was Bode who devised the popular formula for the Christmas concerts: an uninterrupted hour-long flow of beautiful holiday music of several eras, with an instrumental accompaniment that weaves the separate pieces together into a whole. There’s no halt for applause, or any other break in the music, until the last note of the final number.

This year’s program featured something novel: a discreetly amplified guitar instead of the piano accompanying the singers. Guitarist Bob McCaffery-Lent provided beautiful and delicate underlayment for the transitions and for some of the music as well (most memorably in the exquisite performance of Alf Houkom’s challenging “The Rune of Hospitality”). For this listener, however, there’s no question that the piano works better; it is a better balance for the chorus in terms of volume, versatility of sound, and above all, harmonic richness. Perhaps it is coincidental that some of the a cappella works sank slightly in pitch from beginning to end, finishing in a lower key than originally written, and a guitar has fewer options for finessing the transitions.

Among the program’s high points: certainly the Houkom piece, rendered in a delicate web of massed chords and sonorities, and illuminating a text that gives us plenty to ponder. The elegant simplicity of Herbert Howells’ “The Little Door” showed the chorus’ subtlety and blend. The setting of “How Can I Keep from Singing,” by Karen P. Thomas (director of another first-rate chorus, the Seattle Pro Musica), built the plain-spun melody with layers of internal echoes that grew into a rich and vibrant finale.

The audience got a turn, too, with two sing-along carols, culminating in a return of Choral Arts for a charming, honest William Hawley arrangement of “Not One Sparrow is Forgotten.”

Listeners filed out into the cold, wet night, holding on to this gift of music.

Review: Seattle Symphony “Messiah,” Dec. 14, 2012

By Melinda Bargreen

Before all those joyful Hallelujahs came a reflection on grim reality.

The Seattle Symphony’s “Messiah” performance Friday evening began with an announcement that the event would be dedicated to the memory of the lives lost in that day’s horrific school shootings in Connecticut. Heads bowed all around Benaroya Hall for a moment of silence, but there would be many moments in the “Messiah” that followed for concertgoers to ponder themes of suffering, death, and redemption.

It was a compelling performance. This “Messiah” was led by Stephen Stubbs, a Seattle native who has established an international reputation as a lutenist, harpsichordist, and conductor of baroque opera. At times, the Seattle Symphony’s “Messiah” sounded almost operatic, with vivid emotional content and dramatic energy throughout the deftly trimmed score. (A few cuts were made in the oratorio, all of them defensible.)

Sometimes a performance that attempts to marry the conventions of a modern orchestra with authentic 18th-century performance practice can be an awkward hybrid. Not this one. Stubbs got almost all the string players to play with minimal vibrato, but with a rich and well-shaped sound that was full of life and energy. He chose a cast of four soloists who were lavish in their choice of imaginative embellishments; some of those arias had more embroidery than the Unicorn Tapestries.

Stubbs got a flexible and expressive performance out of the Seattle Symphony Chorale, too: “Surely He hath borne our grief” was heart-wrenching, and the pacing of “Lift up your heads” was highly dramatic.

Not everything worked perfectly, partly due to the stage configuration. Stubbs conducted while standing in front of an elevated harpsichord, which he occasionally played – sometimes only in part of a selection, sometimes only with one hand – while giving the orchestra and chorus cues. But the four vocal soloists (Shannon Mercer, Laura Pudwell, Ross Hauck and Kevin Deas) were positioned between Stubbs’ back and the audience, and accompanying these singers was correspondingly difficult. Some of the instrumental players must have also found it hard to see Stubbs, judging from a few defects in ensemble.

Mercer’s soprano solos were beautifully focused and expressive, and her performance of “Rejoice greatly” also demonstrated a breathtaking agility and speed. Hauck, the tenor, was extraordinarily expressive, with imaginative ornamentation that gave the familiar arias some nifty new twists. Few mezzo-sopranos are able to make the “Messiah” solos shine convincingly, and Pudwell was not one of those few. Deas’ bass solos grew in strength from a rather unfocused beginning to a more triumphant “The trumpet shall sound.” (And the trumpet did indeed sound, in a heroic and error-free performance by trumpeter Alexander White.)

As the “Hallelujah” Chorus rang out, in a day that otherwise did not inspire many hallelujahs, the performance sounded more heartfelt than ever. Even as the news reports recall Herod’s slaughter of the innocents, it is possible to find some solace in music whose message and whose beauty can lift us up.

Review: Seattle Men’s Chorus, Dec. 1, 2012

By Melinda Bargreen

It’s the most ambitious audience sing-along yet – and the Seattle Men’s Chorus audience pulled off quite a coup by singing “The Twelve Days of Christmas” to new lyrics while divided into a dozen groups throughout Benaroya Hall’s seating areas.

You know something about a conductor when he can make even an audience for the annual holiday show sound like real singers. The Men’s Chorus founding conductor, Dennis Coleman, can do just that, and a lot more, in this year’s production, “Baby, It’s Cold Outside.” He’s so smart about musical choices, giving the audience something serious and classy just when they’re expecting something wacky and sassy. The skits may be hilarious, but underpinning the whole show is a sense of solid musical values.

How wise to emphasize the sheer power of all those male voices with Benaroya Hall’s Watjen Concert organ, played by a master who put that magnificent instrument through all its gears as if it were a Ferrari. Douglas Cleveland, director of music at Plymouth Congregational Church and a faculty member at the University of Washington, knows how to get the maximum brilliance from the instrument, and hearing that concert organ in the hall adds an extra depth to the performance.

The singers entered the hall to a majestic processional (by David N. Johnson), and the accompanying organ crescendos in the subsequent “Gloria” cranked up the sense of drama and excitement in the house. All those voices: all those pipes!

Following a remarkably good chorus/organ performance of a new arrangement of Gigout’s “Grand Chorus Dialogue,” Cleveland provided a scintillating finale to the first half with a famous organ showpiece, the Toccata from Widor’s Symphony No. 5.

But there was considerably more than organ music, glorious as it was. This year’s holiday show, “Baby, It’s Cold Outside,” combines the tried and true with the fun of novelty. By now, the annual holiday show has long since found a formula that works – but the details are never quite the same from year to year.

One thing that doesn’t vary, thank goodness, is the savvy musical crew, which includes not only Coleman but also Evan Stults (pianist) and Eric Lane Barnes (musician of all trades, including composing and arranging). That trio has become downright indispensable to the success of the annual holiday show. It was Barnes’ medley of “Forgotten Carols” from other countries that got some of the program’s biggest laughs (the carol supposedly from tiny Liechtenstein was predictably brief).

Over the years, the SMC has invited a bevy of guest stars for the opening pair of performances; this year, it was the entertaining Ana Gasteyer (of “Saturday Night Live” and “Suburgatory” fame).

Gasteyer had some pretty stiff competition, however, from chanteuse Arnaldo Inocentes (a former SMC member, now performing as a spectacular cabaret soloist).

This year’s second half has a tropical theme, and the Chorus changes en masse from their formal wear to aloha-wear in an onstage feat that has to be seen to be believed. There probably could have been some trimming here and there, amongst all the sambaing and south-of-the-border numbers, and the cool-jazz version of the SMC’s traditional “Silent Night” didn’t work so well at quite such a slow tempo. But the best pieces had a terrific energy and generated a lot of laughs (especially for the over-the-top Mrs. Claus of Jordan Weaver-Lee). And the Captain Smartypants troupe was in fine form.

Maybe this year’s holiday show gets some extra energy from the state voters’ recent passage of the marriage equality measure, to which there were a few references in the programming (the Chorus’ official mission includes “using the power of words and music to recognize the value of gay and straight people and their relationships”). This Christmas is a time of celebration on many levels.

The SMC has scheduled four more performances in Benaroya Hall, following runouts to Everett and Tacoma: Dec. 16, 20, 21, and 22. Go, if you can; “Baby, It’s Cold Outside” is a great way to warm up for the holidays.

Review: Hélène Grimaud, pianist, at Meany Theater; Nov. 1, 2012.

By Melinda Bargreen

It has been almost a dozen years since Hélène Grimaud played the President’s Piano Series, and it is clear that those intervening years have not changed Grimaud’s unique approach to music: she does it her way.

Her way includes an amazing technical ability, as the French-born pianist made clear in the huge Liszt Sonata in B Major that was the blizzard-of-notes centerpiece of the program. It also includes an approach to other works (particularly Mozart) that sounded harsh, clattery, and just plain stylistically wrong.

You could practically feel ripples of dismay in Meany Theater during the Mozart Sonata in A Minor (K.310), which was loud and overpedaled – as if Grimaud were channeling the spirit of Brahms or Liszt. The sonority sounded forced and stylistically all wrong for Mozart, as did the odd variations in tempo from bar to bar.

Grimaud has played this exact program (Mozart, Alban Berg, Liszt, and Bartok) repeatedly over the last few years, so it’s a mystery why she used a score and a page-turner for the Berg Sonata; that work should certainly be in her memory, as well as her fingers, by now. Turbulent and complicated, Berg’s early one-movement Sonata moves in dozens of different directions, with its late-romantic tonality distorted as if reflected in a fun-house mirror. Grimaud gave it a surging energy.

After intermission came the Liszt Sonata, and the best playing of the night. This monumental one-movement work taxes the pianist in every way: it’s a horrendous technical challenge, and its improvisatory feel makes a cohesive interpretation of the Sonata highly difficult. Grimaud made a great case for doing the Liszt her way, often at top speed, a tempo that sometimes defeated even her dizzying dexterity. This is all-out playing that holds nothing back, and Grimaud’s white-hot intensity with all those parallel octaves and leaping chords is exciting to witness. Many in the Meany audience rose for an ovation after the final note died away.

Charming, but anticlimactic, was the brief set of six Bartok “Romanian Folk Dances” that followed the Liszt. Grimaud played two encores: Gluck’s “Mélodie” (“Dance of the Blessed Spirits”) from the opera “Orfeo ed Euridice,” arranged by Giovanni Sgambati, and then a brief, ethereal “Nouvelle Etude No. 1” in F Minor of Frédéric Chopin.

One non-musical note: Perhaps it is time to reconsider the very lengthy pre-concert announcements, which offer information that is usually (or should be) available in the program.

Review: Craig Sheppard, pianist, plays Debussy; Meany Theater, Oct. 23, 2012.

By Melinda Bargreen

Many pianists pick and choose repertoire the way a gardener might harvest roses: a bud from this plant, a flower from that one.

Craig Sheppard’s way is entirely different. The University of Washington faculty pianist, whose recordings have been accorded an international reverence, defines his programs in the context of the composer’s canon. His lucky Seattle audiences have gotten live performances of great chunks of repertoire by such composers as Liszt, Bach, Beethoven, Schubert, and Chopin – and now, most recently, Books I and II of Debussy’s Preludes.

The Meany Theater performance of the Debussy Preludes was one of Sheppard’s most enchanting keyboard evenings so far. How this famously declarative pianist can turn out the most exquisitely shaded, dulcet, and mercurial little vignettes in this series is a continuing mystery to music lovers. Few artists can have both the technique and the artistic inspiration to be so successfully versatile.

Only a few of the 24 Preludes (Debussy wrote a dozen each for both Book I and Book II) are well known to concert audiences: certainly “La fille aux cheveux de lin” (“The girl with the flaxen hair”) and “La cathédrale engloutie” (“The sunken cathedral”) are among them. The rest are relatively seldom performed, certainly not as a set, though these little tone poems are so evocative and attractive that it is hard to account for their neglect on today’s concert programs. Inspired by literary works, by Impressionist paintings, and by the kaleidoscope of musical influences that Debussy heard (including the Javanese Gamelan), the composer gave each of these pieces a highly distinctive character: wistful, witty, martial, dancelike, puckish, mysterious.

Sheppard dealt with the technical requirements of the music (some of them extreme) with such apparent ease that the audience was able to forget how difficult many of the Preludes really are. He sometimes began the quieter Preludes by giving the keys a soundless preliminary caress, as if to awaken them for the delicate touch that followed. And though many of the pieces were full of spectacular, dazzling effects, this was really a program of touch: the opening “Les danseuses de Delphes” was a translucent web of sound that completely belied the piano’s status as a percussion instrument. Throughout the Preludes, shimmering washes of sound formed the background to melodies (often in octaves) that rode the waves beneath them. Successions of soft chords seemed to melt their way down the keyboard. In “Les tierces alternées,” those alternating double thirds emerged with a hummingbird-like dexterity.

There was plenty of pedal dexterity as well, as Sheppard created shimmering sostenuto effects while still maintaining melodic clarity. Nowhere is pedaling virtuosity more necessary than in Debussy, where the pedals (as the pianist/writer Russell Sherman once put it) are indeed “the stairway to heaven.”

Sheppard had a particularly nice way with the endings of many of the pieces, as Debussy closed with the musical equivalent of a tip of the hat, or a snort, or a simply a sudden disappearance of sound (as in “La danse de Puck”). Some of the quieter endings were magical, with keys depressed until the wisps of sound simply ran out.

The audience, mostly attentive and silent throughout (the program was being recorded for a future Romeo Records CD), but erupted into cheers after the final Prelude. Sheppard introduced the resulting encore as Debussy’s last work, which surfaced only recently: “Les soirs illuminés par l'ardeur du charbon,” a brief but lovely thank-you to the coal merchant who warmed the composer’s final winter with a little extra fuel.

Review: Andras Schiff plays Bach, Benaroya Hall, Oct. 15, 2012

By Melinda Bargreen

They were written as musical studies, and Bach’s 24 Preludes and Fugues comprising Book II of “The Well-Tempered Clavier” have been the fodder and the frustration of countless keyboard students. It’s safe to say, however, that these pieces have never sounded the way Andras Schiff played them recently at Benaroya Hall.

The “WTC” as written as a set of two books – separated by about two decades – each consisting of both a Prelude and a Fugue in each major and minor key, starting with C major and concluding with B minor. Book II poses formidable challenges of almost every kind, including sheer keyboard dexterity, interpretive wisdom, and concentration. Schiff’s program lasted nearly three hours (including intermission), about an hour longer than the standard piano recital. Astonishingly, he played the entire convoluted, complicated program from memory in a performance that was so error-free that it could have been issued as a recording.

In fact, the playing actually was better than on Schiff’s brand-new recording: freer, more lyrical, more chance-taking, while liberated from the tyranny of the recording-studio microphones. This was a program that sounded like a labor of love, and you could frequently see an amused smile on Schiff’s face as he turned out a particularly nice passage.

The playing was spectacularly even and clean, with tremendous tonal variety – from the most velvety, silky sonorities to glittering, assertive passagework. Each piece had its own personality: witty, declarative, beseeching. There was high drama in some of the declarative statements, particularly among the fugues, and passages when the right hand (carrying the melody) created intriguing tensions by “pulling” against the steady beat of the left hand.

The evening was a revelation: Bach as you’ve never quite heard it before. The Seattle recital was part of Schiff’s “Bach Project,” a series of Bach recitals, plus an orchestral week of Bach, Schumann and Mendelssohn that finds Schiff on the podium as well as at the piano. (The Seattle performance was one of nine individual recitals in venues extending from coast to coast.) Rumor has it that Schiff may return to Seattle next season for more Bach; if so, don’t miss any opportunity to hear this master.

Review: Seattle Opera presents Beethoven’s “Fidelio,” Oct. 13, 2012

By Melinda Bargreen

Opera fans love their art form for many reasons, but perhaps chief among these is the thrill of discovery. Hearing a great new voice for the first time, and watching the opera character leap to life, is the kind of experience fans cherish. That’s what awaited Seattle Opera audiences on Saturday night, when the massively talented German soprano Christiane Libor sang her American opera debut in the title role of Beethoven’s only opera, “Fidelio.”

What a voice! Seattle Opera general director Speight Jenkins, who discovered the German-based Libor in Berlin on an audition tour, still has his keen ear for talent. Libor’s gleaming, mighty soprano and her passionate, no-holds-barred performance style made for a gripping evening, particularly since she was surrounded by a cast of considerable firepower.

Clifton Forbis, who has previously appeared here as Tristan (and earlier as Cavaradossi in “Tosca”), was well matched with Libor, offering a heroic but very human portrayal of the unfairly jailed political prisoner. Anya Matanovic was a charming, big-voiced Marcelline, well partnered by John Tessier as her frustrated suitor Jaquino. Arthur Woodley gave a complex, compassionate performance as the jailor Rocco, who deplores the orders he must follow. Positively chewing up the scenery as the villainous Pizarro was Greer Grimsley (better known to Seattle “Ring” audiences as Wotan), who threw himself into the role with a wicked zest.

The evening’s hero was less visible than the singing actors on the stage, but a vital force in the orchestra pit. Asher Fisch’s powerful and detailed conducting gave the production both propulsive excitement and detailed artistry – from the vivid overture to the joyous finale, which packs the punch of Beethoven’s Ninth.

The production, designed by Robert Dahlstrom and directed by Chris Alexander, was originally unveiled in 2003 (the season before the opening of McCaw Hall), and it is every bit as timely and effective now as it was then. This show, with its TV cameras capturing the overthrow of a political tyrant and the long-awaited release of unjustly jailed prisoners, could be taking place in any number of regimes today. Alexander directs all this action with a masterly hand and a keen sense of timing. The finale packs the chorus and supernumeraries onto the stage like anchovies in a can, as searching families are reunited with the prisoners in a scene that bristles with hope, loss, and joy.

Review: Emerson String Quartet, Oct. 2, 2012

By Melinda Bargreen

It’s the end of an era: the Emerson String Quartet will have a membership change for the first time in 34 years when David Finckel, the cellist since 1979, departs the world’s most celebrated quartet this coming May. (Finckel is busy with several other musical endeavors, many of them with his pianist wife Wu Han.)

Of course, the quartet will go on with a new cellist, Paul Watkins. But the Oct. 2 performance in Meany Theater was the last one for the Emerson Quartet with Finckel in the cellist’s chair (and he’s the only one sitting, as this quartet’s practice is to perform with the other three players standing).

There isn’t sufficient room here to elaborate on the impressive string of international awards and kudos amassed by the ESQ during its long lifespan. Let’s just say that audiences expect the very highest level of quartet playing from this ensemble. And most of the time, they got exactly that in the Meany Theater performance, which spanned quartets of Haydn, Thomas Adès, and Brahms.

The group took a little time to settle in for the Haydn D Major Quartet (Op. 20, No. 4), with several tiny misjudgments and imprecise intonation in the first movement of the score. Haydn requires an uncompromising standard of playing, and the first movement was less than it might have been. . As the performance went on, however, things coalesced, and Haydn’s glowing Poco adagio movement was exemplary.

The evening’s curiosity was of course the Adès piece (the 41-year-old British composer’s name is pronounced “addis”), Composed for the Emersons, this work is called “The Four Quarters,” with movements representing various times of day: “Nightfalls,” “Serenade: Morning Dew,” “Days,” and “The Twenty-Fifth Hour.”

The opening movement began with spiky violin passages over drones from the other two instruments, dissolving into chords that morphed into various keys. Tones slid and drooped like Salvador Dali’s surrealist clocks; then “Nightfalls” abruptly stopped. Subsequent movements created different moods with a stylistic repertoire that owes a lot to Bartok, underlain with rhythmic motifs like the “lub-dub, lub-dub” heartbeat-like figure in the “Days” movement. The finale, with its rhythmically tricky 25/16 time signature, was impressively navigated but sounded more like a concept than like real communication.

“The Four Quarters” got a polite audience response but (except for a few enthusiasts) some rather underwhelming applause, and the word “interesting” popped up all over the subsequent intermission conversations. (“Interesting,” among classical audiences, is the term that means “I didn’t really like it, but I know it’s supposed to be impressive.”)

The final Brahms Quartet No. 2 in A Minor was a cornucopia of lush harmonies so strongly produced that the effect was positively orchestral. Finckel produced some particularly satisfying passages in the second (Andante moderato) movement, as if in farewell to the audiences who have enjoyed his playing so much over the years.

The encore, crisply articulated but warm in tone, was a Mozart arrangement of a Bach fugue – a lovely benediction to cap the performance.

Review: Seattle Symphony Orchestra with conductor Thomas Søndergård, cello soloist Efe Baltacigil; Oct. 4, 2012.

By Melinda Bargreen

From the first elegant phrase, you knew it was going to be a special performance.

Solo cellist Efe Baltacigil wafted the opening line of Tchaikovsky’s tricky “Rococo Variations” into Benaroya Hall, and the Seattle Symphony audience was his: hooked on a performance so sublimely natural, so easily virtuosic, that you couldn’t wait to hear what he’d do with the next phrase.

A warmly expressive player of infinite subtlety, Baltacigil joined the Seattle Symphony as principal cellist last year, and ever since, music lovers have worried that he’s too good to stay. (Last month he made his debut with the Berlin Philharmonic under Sir Simon Rattle.) He has incredibly nimble fingerwork, and his bow control is phenomenal, but most impressive of all is his apparently effortless musicianship. Each variation was lovelier than its predecessor. Not surprisingly, the ovation afterward was heartfelt and lengthy.

On the podium was a partner thoroughly worthy of his soloist: Danish conductor Thomas Søndergård, in his Seattle debut. Søndergård gave Baltacigil lots of support and plenty of expressive room, carefully shaping the orchestra’s sound so it didn’t overwhelm the soloist.

Søndergård is riveting to watch. He conducts as if it were an Olympic event, throwing himself into the music with tremendous energy and sweeping, incisive gestures. The musicians’ response was electric, with the players apparently inspired by the swoop of the baton and the conductor’s expressive phrase-shaping left hand.

Mussorgsky’s “Night on Bald Mountain” was appropriately colorful, but the Sibelius Symphony No. 1 showed Søndergård at his most engaged – interpreting every bar, never merely beating time. The conductor’s affection for this great score was obvious in every measure. The orchestra has never sounded more energized.

There are two more chances to hear this wonderful program.

Seize one.

Review: Seattle Symphony Orchestra with Ludovic Morlot, conductor; September 20, 2012.

By Melinda Bargreen

Let other critics call “The Pines of Rome” vulgar (and many have). For sheer exuberance and spectacular sonic display, you’d have to go far to beat Respighi’s deliciously colorful tone poems. Where else will you hear the recorded chirpings of a nightingale, or the ear-crushing brass crescendos amplified by the mighty pipes of Benaroya Hall’s Watjen concert organ?

The Respighi made a festive capstone to the season’s first subscription program of the Seattle Symphony, with Ludovic Morlot spurring on all the players as if to say, “We’re back! Hear us roar.” And it was a performance that also was intriguing to watch, with the percussion section constantly on the hop, and keyboardist Joseph Adam sprinting back and forth between the celeste on the stage and the pipe-organ console upstairs. There were some remarkably fine solos, too, from several principals – including clarinetist Christopher Sereque, trumpeter David Gordon, and Stefan Farkas, whose English horn was one of the major adornments of the entire program.

Morlot conducted with exuberance and obvious enjoyment, managing even in this score to create some subtlety in the shaping of the dynamics, and reining in the players for some passages of hushed, tranquil beauty.

The evening was launched with another nod to Rome, Berlioz’s familiar “Roman Carnival” Overture, followed by an abrupt transition into another sonic universe: Bohuslav Martinů’s Symphony No. 6 (“Fantaisies symphoniques”), with its complex, swirling sonorities that sounded like a swarm of hummingbirds. Despite some ensemble problems, Morlot and the orchestra gave a compelling performance of this 1953 work.

In honor of Debussy’s 150th birth anniversary, Morlot programmed the wonderfully picturesque “Nocturnes,” a set of two pieces whose titles give an accurate summary of the atmospheric music: “Nuages” (“Clouds”) and “Fêtes” (“Festivals”). Morlot led a sensitively nuanced account of these colorful pieces, concluding with a final procession (in “Fetes”) that prefigured the grand finale of the Respighi.

It was an impressive program, but there’s some serious work still to do. Ensemble difficulties and intonation problems (particularly in the brass choirs) in several of the pieces are among the issues that will doubtless get attention in the coming months. But the orchestra and its music director are off to an exciting start.

Speaking of exciting starts: in the cello section for this program is a interesting new substitute player, 17-year-old Karissa Zadinsky – daughter of SSO first violinist Arthur Zadinsky, and sister of new Cleveland Orchestra bassist Derek Zadinsky. No shortage of talent in that family!

Review: Seattle Symphony Opening Night Gala, with Joshua Bell and Ludovic Morlot (Sept. 15, 2012)

By Melinda Bargreen

Opening night at the Seattle Symphony is always a special evening: the launch of a new concert season, usually with an important guest artist and a festive program. And if last season’s opener with incoming music director Ludovic Morlot had a bit of a French accent, the 2012-13 gala performed Saturday night was Americana all the way. The stage was even bathed in red, white and blue lights for portions of the concert (a nice touch, representing America’s national colors that also are those of Morlot’s native France).

There was stellar violinist Joshua Bell, at the top of his form in the Bernstein Serenade; there were tributes and speeches and a few additions to the program. The evening’s most moving moments came from Daniel J. Evans, former Washington State governor and U.S. senator, whose pitch-perfect narration of Copland’s powerful “Lincoln Portrait” reminded listeners of the difference between a politician and a statesman.

After a rousing version of “The Star-Spangled Banner,” Morlot launched into Gershwin’s jazzy “Cuban Overture,” a performance that took awhile to coalesce but ended convincingly.

Bell’s exquisitely subtle and pliant violin has never sounded better than in the Bernstein “Serenade,” a work in five challenging movements that require the utmost virtuosity from the soloist. There’s a nasty array of double stops, a Presto movement of dizzying difficulty, and dancelike passages that make heroic requirements of the violinist. Bell made it all sound easy, including an amazingly controlled pianissimo that faded into nothing.

More Bernstein came in the second half of the program, with the high-energy “Symphonic Dances from ‘West Side Story’.” The evening included a few extras: a nod to Bernstein with William David Brohn’s setting of “New York, New York” (from Bernstein’s musical “On the Town”). And also, sadly, a tribute to the orchestra’s late principal pops conductor Marvin Hamlisch, a composer and musician of prodigious gifts who left us far too soon (his song “One,” from the Pulitzer-winning musical “A Chorus Line”).

Morlot and Bell, who were performing together for the third time this year, both addressed some remarks to the audience, as did board president Leslie Chihuly. These gala season-openers always have congratulatory elements, but this time there was a real sense of how much the Seattle Symphony organization needs and appreciates its supporters – more now than ever, with a 1 million deficit in a tough economic climate. The program also made it clear how much Morlot and the orchestra have to offer in return, from free youth tickets with adult ticket purchase, to a creative program lineup that really does have something for everybody. The quality of the music making, and the enthusiastic audience response, augur well for an exciting season ahead.

Review: Orcas Island Chamber Music Festival, August 14, 2012

By Melinda Bargreen

They call it “Classical Music with a View,” and views are certainly on offer in the many idyllic settings of the Orcas Island Chamber Music Festival.

But it’s the imaginative programs and the exciting concert activity, of course, that have made the festival such a success over its 15 years. The creation of violinist/violist Aloysia Friedmann and her pianist husband Jon Kimura Parker, the festival celebrated its “crystal anniversary” August 9-25 with the venturesome programming that has drawn great performers and eager audiences to the island every summer. This year’s concert lineup including two world premieres by the noted opera composer Jake Heggie; works in many forms (including jazz) inspired by Paganini’s Caprice No. 24; an intimate song evening with Frederica von Stade -- and a free concert on the Eastsound Village Green with two pianos (Parker and Orli Shaham), an impressive slate of performers including baritone Rod Gilfry, and a program extending from “Carnival of the Animals” to a set of Broadway show tunes.

Friedmann, as artistic director and chief architect of the festival, is well known for choosing music that embraces all sorts of instruments, genres, and styles. From the traditional to the whimsical, with imaginative pairings of works and artists, the Orcas concert lineup also features brand-new talent alongside beloved longtime artists.

Over the past 15 years, the festival has gradually evolved from its original Labor Day Weekend schedule of concerts back in the beginning – when Friedmann and Parker got the idea of inviting some friends over to make music in the island setting the Friedmann family had long loved. These days the festival is earlier and bigger. But not too big. It still has the lovely homegrown feeling of the island community, with volunteers opening their homes for parties, taking the artists out for whale-watching boat rides, baking treats for the participants at “Music Lovers’ Seminars,” and serving up the free post-concert appetizer buffet for all the concert-goers.

A grant from Chamber Music America has the festival artists on the move, presenting “hamlet concerts” in tiny community centers around the island, and venturing offshore to neighboring Lopez Island for an evening with the festival’s 2012 resident Miró Quartet.

The Orcas festival is well known for its world premieres, and 2012 brought two brand-new works by opera composer Jake Heggie (whose opera “Moby-Dick” was also represented by an aria featuring Gilfry). Heggie’s new song cycle, “This is My Beloved,” got a tremendous performance from Gilfry (who sang the challenging 20-minute work without a score), accompanied by the composer at the piano and two other instrumentalists, violinist Andrés Cárdenes and cellist Anne Martindale Williams. Based on a book of erotic love poems by Walter Benton (1907-1976), the song cycle – like the book – traces the arc of a love affair from the first rush of joy to the sad resignation of the affair’s end.

Heggie chose excerpts from some of the free-verse poems (wisely omitting some of the more graphic passages), and the music is wonderfully descriptive. The opening song moves edgily forward and then erupts into a high-energy tango; the second is an idyllic succession of dreamy, reverential chords that ideally support the text, as the lovers “move closer to heaven.” Later, at a less optimistic point in the cycle, Heggie underscored the foreboding with spare, repeated notes, finally moving into a wild instrumental tarantella underneath the singer’s despairing lines. It’s clear here, as always, that Heggie is at his very best in scoring for voice; this song cycle is a winner, and it is hard to imagine a better soloist than Gilfry.

Two charming flute-based pieces opened the program: the C.P.E. Bach Trio Sonata in B-Flat Major, and Mozart’s spirited D Major Flute Quartet (the former with Parker at the harpsichord, which was built in 1963 by his father-in-law). Both of these works displayed the agile, expressive, and beautifully focused sound of flutist Lorna McGhee. Both pieces also have happy extra-musical associations: Friedmann’s parents, violinist Martin Friedmann and oboist Laila Storch, recorded the C.P.E. Bach piece together in Salzburg in 1957 as newlyweds, with Storch playing the flute part on the oboe. And McGhee and the evening’s violist, her husband David Harding, first met while performing that very Mozart flute quartet.

The evening’s two-part finale began with Gilfry and Parker performing the Schubert Lied, “Der Tod und das Mädchen,” followed by the great quartet whose second movement was inspired by the Lied: Schubert’s Quartet No. 14, “Death and the Maiden.” The Miró Quartet gave a dynamic performance of this death-obsessed work, and the conclusion of the furious tarantella finale had the audience on its feet for an enthusiastic ovation.

Seattle Opera’s “Turandot” (August 4, 2012)

By Melinda Bargreen

Seattle Opera’s summer production is typically a blockbuster, and the new “Turandot” is about as spectacular as opera gets. The sets! The costumes! The cast of thousands!

And, oh yes, the singing and the orchestra: the company has not forgotten its raison d’être in this extravaganza. With Asher Fisch on the podium, the musical values are never secondary to the visual excitement on the stage.

The company was to have presented Wagner’s “Parsifal” in this time slot, as part of a long-term Seattle Opera plan to revisit the great Wagnerian operas in the last years of the tenure of the company’s general director, Speight Jenkins (who will step down in August of 2014). Unfortunately, the recession and the company’s related fiscal shortfalls have made necessary some retrenchments over the past two summers – much to the disappointment of worldwide Wagnerites.

But this “Turandot” certainly doesn’t look or sound like a bargain-basement production. The cast ranges from serviceable to excellent. The orchestra has never sounded better, thanks to vivid and pulse-pounding leadership from conductor Asher Fisch. The stage is filled with opulence: gorgeous and highly effective sets and costumes (by André Barbe), brilliantly lit (especially in the Act I moonrise scene) by Guy Simard. All this draws the audience immediately into the action. And there is plenty of action: vivid choreography and staging by Renaud Doucet, who fills the stage right down to the inch with a “cast of thousands” effect: principal singers, choristers, dancers, spear-carriers, lots of flashing knives and almost continuous motion. There’s never a dull moment on the stage; the crowd scene at the finale of Act II was almost overwhelming in its impact.

Lori Phillips was an impressive Turandot, delivering the vocal goods with a thrilling, silvery heft to her soprano and a commanding top register. She did full credit to Barbe’s costumes, too (though I’m not so sure about the lurid red eyeshadow – hardly a look that does credit to the famously beautiful Turandot). Her Prince Calaf, Antonello Palombi, provided a stentorian tenor that showed to great advantage in the opera’s most famous aria, “Nessun dorma.” And as the ill-fated slave girl Liu, soprano Lina Tetriani had all the best lines (and all the audience’s sympathies), and she made the most of them. Peter Rose was particularly effective as Calaf’s father, Timur, wringing the heart with his vivid portrayal.

The comic roles of Ping, Pang, and Pong were staged with wit and flair, right down to an umbrella dance routine straight out of vaudeville. Patrick Carfizzi (Ping) gave the trio a strong lead, with Julius Ahn (Pang) and Joseph Hu (Pong) merrily following suit in scenes that provided humorous balance to the tragic elements of Liu’s death and all those beheaded suitors.

Ashraf Sewailam was an appropriately stentorian Mandarin, setting the stage with several vital pronouncements. Peter Kazaras had the costume of the evening in his tremendous headdress and ceremonial robes, but the inevitable disadvantage of his placement at the back of the stage meant that it was harder to hear him.

Beth Kirchhoff’s chorus (and children’s chorus) took advantage of their many opportunities to set the scene, comment on the action, and demonstrate their excellence.

In an earlier interview, Fisch called this “Turandot” an ideal first opera for the young and the novice operagoer. We tested the concept by bringing along a young visiting relative on her 11th birthday. She was riveted throughout the show; when the curtain went down on Act I she was disappointed because “I didn’t want it to stop – I wanted it to keep on going.” That pretty much says it all.

Seattle Chamber Music Society’s Summer Festival, July 27.

By Melinda Bargreen

A full and happy house assembled for the grand finale of this year’s festival, which has hit one high note after another all month long for the Seattle Chamber Music Society. And it’s clear that much of the credit for this success goes to artistic director James Ehnes, whose own violin virtuosity is coupled with program-making and public-speaking skills that few could match.

This year, Ehnes has designed the programming so that each of the concerts features a work that has never been performed before in the festival’s 29 years – no easy task, given the huge repertoire list assembled over nearly three decades. For the last work on the final 2012 concert, Ehnes picked a Prokofiev rarity, the ballet “Trapeze.” Fortunately, he also chose a lineup of artists who expertly plumbed the drama and excitement of this neglected score. Not every obscure work is a winner; “Trapeze” was a triumph.

The evening’s hors d’oeuvre was Rachmaninoff’s early Piano Trio No. 1 (“Élégiaque”), full of romantic gloom and featuring some particularly subtle playing from violinist Amy Schwartz Moretti (joined by cellist Andrés Díaz and pianist Andrew Armstrong). An early Beethoven Piano Trio (Op. 1, No. 2) showcased the remarkable taste and skill of pianist Anton Nel, a reliably terrific player who knew exactly what to do with the trio’s virtuosic requirements. In one passage, he roared up the keyboard at a blistering pace – stopping just for a teasing hairsbreadth before hitting that last note. With him all the way (though in less prominent roles) were violinist Emily Daggett Smith and cellist Robert deMaine.

Prefaced by a witty and frequently hilarious introduction by Ehnes, the Prokofiev “Trapeze” proved a marvel of style and technique, with Ehnes joining violist Che-Yen Chen, oboist Nathan Hughes, clarinetist Ricardo Morales, and bass Jordan Anderson for the performance. Challenging in almost every way, this jaunty, acerbic work is colored with unusual combinations of timbres, strong rhythmic pulses, and all sorts of virtuoso flourishes. The wind players have passages of remarkable difficulty; the double bass barges up the scale from the growly low tones to viola territory, and the eight movements are so rhythmically complicated that it must have been extremely tricky to coordinate the ensemble. The five players made it sound easy. It was a performance well worth a recording.

Seattle Chamber Music Society’s Summer Festival, July 20.

By Melinda Bargreen

Our summer weather may be fizzling, but inside the Nordstrom Recital Hall on Wednesday evening, it was sizzling.

A lengthy and ambitious program found musicians of the Seattle Chamber Music Society in incendiary form for works spanning the familiar (Beethoven, Ravel) and the less frequently heard (Sergei Taneyev, John Adams). These diverse performances had one factor in common: the excellence of the impassioned, committed players.

The opening performance of Taneyev’s large-scale and imposing String Quintet in G Major took its tone from white-hot playing of first violinist Stefan Jackiw, in every respect a leader. His expert ensemble included violinist Augustin Hadelich, violist Cynthia Phelps, and cellists Ronald Thomas and Efe Baltacigil. The performance sounded positively symphonic, with the strings creating a wide array of colors and effects that were rich in detail. From Jackiw’s exquisite cadenza to a surging waltz theme in the final movement, the quintet was a study in interpretive finesse; it sounded as if the five players were a long-standing permanent ensemble.

The festival returned to this season’s focus on duo-piano repertoire for two pieces in the middle of the program: John Adams’ “Hallelujah Junction” (for two pianos) and Beethoven’s Op. 6 Sonata for Piano, Four Hands. Adams brought out his familiar motoric, propulsive technique in a work that made the listener supremely conscious that the piano is a percussion instrument. The two very fine players, Orion Weiss and Adam Neiman, hammered expertly through the score, returning to give a more delicate and nuanced performance of the Beethoven Sonata.

Sunny, shimmering, and subtle, the Ravel String Quartet in F Major wound up the program with a performance that was just flat-out beautiful. All vivid colors and dramatic contrasts, the quartet featured four very strong players: violinists James Ehnes and Amy Schwartz Moretti, violist Richard O’Neill, and cellist Robert deMaine. With a patrician lead from Ehnes, and urgent, committed playing from the ensemble, each movement of the Ravel was like another twist of an exotic kaleidoscope. The near-capacity audience stood and cheered, grateful to be in the house on such a shining night.

An added plus: as always, the lucid and intelligent program notes of Steven Lowe were a pleasure to read.

Seattle Chamber Music Society’s Summer Festival, July 18.

By Melinda Bargreen

Our summer weather may be fizzling, but inside the Nordstrom Recital Hall on Wednesday evening, it was sizzling.

A lengthy and ambitious program found musicians of the Seattle Chamber Music Society in incendiary form for works spanning the familiar (Beethoven, Ravel) and the less frequently heard (Sergei Taneyev, John Adams). These diverse performances had one factor in common: the excellence of the impassioned, committed players.

The opening performance of Taneyev’s large-scale and imposing String Quintet in G Major took its tone from white-hot playing of first violinist Stefan Jackiw, in every respect a leader. His expert ensemble included violinist Augustin Hadelich, violist Cynthia Phelps, and cellists Ronald Thomas and Efe Baltacigil. The performance sounded positively symphonic, with the strings creating a wide array of colors and effects that were rich in detail. From Jackiw’s exquisite cadenza to a surging waltz theme in the final movement, the quintet was a study in interpretive finesse; it sounded as if the five players were a long-standing permanent ensemble.

The festival returned to this season’s focus on duo-piano repertoire for two pieces in the middle of the program: John Adams’ “Hallelujah Junction” (for two pianos) and Beethoven’s Op. 6 Sonata for Piano, Four Hands. Adams brought out his familiar motoric, propulsive technique in a work that made the listener supremely conscious that the piano is a percussion instrument. The two very fine players, Inon Barnatan and Adam Neiman, hammered expertly through the score, returning to give a more delicate and nuanced performance of the Beethoven Sonata.

Sunny, shimmering, and subtle, the Ravel String Quartet in F Major wound up the program with a performance that was just flat-out beautiful. All vivid colors and dramatic contrasts, the quartet featured four very strong players: violinists James Ehnes and Amy Schwartz Moretti, violist Richard O’Neill, and cellist Robert deMaine. With a patrician lead from Ehnes, and urgent, committed playing from the ensemble, each movement of the Ravel was like another twist of an exotic kaleidoscope. The near-capacity audience stood and cheered, grateful to be in the house on such a shining night.

An added plus: as always, the lucid and intelligent program notes of Steven Lowe were a pleasure to read.

[Melinda Bargreen also reviews concerts for 98.1 Classical KING FM. She can be reached at mbargreen@aol.com.]

Seattle Chamber Music Society’s Summer Festival, July 16.

By Melinda Bargreen

You don’t expect the show to be stolen by a cello sonata.

But that’s exactly what happened at Monday’s concert in the Summer Festival of the Seattle Chamber Music Society.  Efe Baltacigil, who has just finished his first season as the Seattle Symphony’s principal cellist, made the strongest impression of the evening in the mercurial Debussy Cello Sonata, in the midst of the longer, louder works on the program.

With the pianist Adam Neiman, Baltacigil poured out luscious, elegant tone, perfectly controlled harmonics, and stylish phrasing – all with a sense of evident enjoyment. This is a cellist of superb nuances and spontaneous musicality, and Neiman partnered him beautifully.

But Seattle Symphony fans in the audience may have felt that sinking feeling as they read the line in Baltacigil’s bio about next season’s engagement with the Berlin Philharmonic and Sir Simon Rattle. Enjoy his Seattle playing while you can.

Monday’s program opened with Frank Bridge’s picturesque “Phantasy for Piano and Strings in F-Sharp Minor,” in which the excellent violinist Stefan Jackiw was first among equals in a rhapsodic interpretation of this pretty but insubstantial trifle. (The ensemble included violist Cynthia Phelps, cellist Robert deMaine, and pianist Jeremy Denk.)

Dvorak’s “Cypresses for String Quartet” appeared for the first time on any of the festival’s programs; these modest little pieces have sweet melodies and were surprisingly effective in the hands of four top players. Violinist Augustin Hadelich, who drew sustained cheers in his festival performances this past Friday, did wonders with the melodic lines, supported by violinist Amy Schwartz Moretti, violist Richard O’Neill and cellist Ronald Thomas.

The evening’s finale, the mighty Rachmaninoff “Symphonic Dances for Two Pianos” (Op. 45), continued the festival’s emphasis on two-keyboard instrumentation. Energetic, propulsive, and occasionally motoric, this three-movement work requires two genuine virtuosi, which we had in Orion Weiss and Inon Barnatan. There are wonderful, exciting passages strung together by a lot of uninspired development sections that sound as if Rachmaninoff was marking time and filling space. Still, the performance was exciting enough to banish reservations about the work’s musical merits amidst that virtuoso cascade of notes.

Seattle Chamber Music Society’s Summer Festival, July 11.

By Melinda Bargreen

Clearly the word is getting out: a near-capacity crowd packed the Nordstrom Recital Hall for Wednesday evening’s concert. It was the fifth program of the month for the Seattle Chamber Music Society’s Summer Festival, presenting an unusual lineup of works (five, instead of the usual three or four).

The program, in fact, stretched from Mozart (born in 1756) to Milhaud (who died in 1974), and encompassed a correspondingly broad range of musical styles. And some of it was glorious. The majority of the program, however, featured works of lesser quality by great composers, and even though many of the performances were brilliant, the overall effect was not as electrifying as the festival performances usually are.

On the plus side were the duo-piano performances by Jeremy Denk and Inon Barnatan, who lit up the hall with splendidly detailed and highly dramatic readings of Bartok’s “Seven Pieces from ‘Mikrokosmos’ for Two Pianos.” The pianists played with evident enjoyment and with the kind of splashy panache that looked like enormous fun, and the audience’s enjoyment of the music was clear.

Denk and Barnatan returned for a scintillating account of Milhaud’s popular “Scaramouche,” a jazzy, high-energy suite that emerged with the maximum level of drama.

The Mozart K.254 Divertimento opener, however, brought together the passionate, assertive violinist Ida Levin and the well-mannered but less assertive pianist Orion Weiss, with Bion Tsang stuck in what might be the most boring cello part Mozart ever wrote. The piano has the melodic line much of the time, but you’d never know it from this performance.

Dvorak’s seldom-heard “Miniatures” (for two violins and viola) featured Stephen Rose and Augustin Hadelich with violist Richard O’Neill in four beautifully detailed pieces, but Hadelich’s role was sadly confined to busy accompaniment figures. The miniatures have their charm; the final “Elegie,” with its minor-key sobbing motifs, however, sobs at very great length.

The finale was Mendelssohn’s very early Piano Quartet No. 1, an ambitious but unevenly inspired teenaged work that few music lovers would choose to accompany them to that proverbial desert island. It got a rousing good try from Benjamin Beilman (violin), David Harding (viola), Edward Arron (cello) and Anna Polonsky (piano). Polonsky had to play so many relentlessly speedy scalar passages in the fiendish Scherzo movement that the presenters must be glad she was not paid by the note.

Seattle Chamber Music Society’s Summer Festival, July 9.

By Melinda Bargreen

The second week for this popular Summer Festival was launched in fine style with a brilliant and highly varied program – one with lots of surprises. (The biggest surprise is that the Nordstrom Recital Hall wasn’t full; after the word has gotten out about the opening week, you’d think music lovers would be clamoring for tickets.)

The evening’s opener was a seldom-heard Mendelssohn “Andante and Allegro Brilliant” for piano, four hands – featuring two pianists who are a married couple in real life, Orion Weiss and Anna Polonsky. Their feats of derring-do at the keyboard were marked by the careful observance of traffic issues, as flying fingers and reaching arms were quickly hoisted out of the duo-partner’s way in what was sometimes an acrobatic ballet at the keyboard. Nimble and adroit, the pianists played the rolling melodies with sensitivity, and the busy scalar passages with speedy alacrity.

Beethoven’s cheery “Serenade for Flute, Violin and Viola” (Op. 45) came next, with flutist Lorna McGhee adding some effervescent bounce to the two string players (the always high-powered Ida Levin, and the more laid-back violist David Harding). Full of charm and endless invention in the instrumentation, the piece was as fizzy as a glass of champagne.

Then came one of the evening’s big surprises: Bion Tsang’s reading of Falla’s “Suite populaire Espagnole” (reworked for cello by Maurice Marechal). Tsang has always been a reliably excellent utility player with the festival, but this performance was something special: tremendous subtlety, beautiful shading, loads of interpretative finesse. With the pianist Inon Barnatan, Tsang produced a variety of tone colors, ranging from the smoky and subtle to the feisty and assertive. It was a compelling performance that drew sustained cheers from the audience.

The finale was one of the great trios of the chamber repertoire: Ravel’s A Minor Trio, with a distinguished lineup of talent: Augustin Hadelich (violin), Edward Aaron (cello), and Jeremy Denk (piano). Hadelich is certainly one of the best young violinists on today’s concert stage; Arron has played with some of the nation’s most distinguished festivals, and the prize-winning Denk is a consistently intriguing pianist who is always fascinating to hear. The results were stellar. Denk established an exquisite atmosphere in the opening movement, and the two string players carried out the final attenuated harmonics with almost unbelievable control at the movement’s end. Throughout the performance, Hadelich and Arron played off each other, tailoring Ravel’s many question-and-answer phrases with real involvement. Denk’s tremendous bravura playing in the final section of the fourth movement set the tone for a remarkable finale.

This is why people attend chamber music concerts, in the hopes of hearing a performance like this one: intimate, rich, bringing to full and vibrant life the glorious pieces of the repertoire. On a night like Monday, we’re lucky to be in the house.

Seattle Chamber Music Society’s Summer Festival, opening concert, July 2.

By Melinda Bargreen

Outside the Nordstrom Recital Hall, it was cold and rainy.

Inside the hall, it was smoking hot – especially when James Ehnes and Jon Kimura Parker took the stage to play Bartok in this opening program of the 31st Seattle Chamber Music Society’s Summer Festival. The festival, which annually opens the week of the Fourth of July, is always a reliable source of fireworks (of the musical variety), but Monday evening’s opener was even more incendiary than usual.

Ehnes, the festival’s artistic director, and Parker, artistic advisor of the Orcas Island Chamber Music Festival, are an ideal pairing of verve and artistry at the violin and piano. Whenever they join forces, it sounds as if they were inventing the music as they go, so spontaneous is their musical partnership. In Monday’s concert, the Bartok Violin Sonata No. 1 took on new dimensions in a performance that really deserved a recording.

Ehnes just goes from strength to strength as a violinist; he’s better every year. In the Bartok, he changed the focus of his sound the way a photographer adjusts an image from hazy to sharp and back again. The ruminative Adagio sounded like an extended meditation, personal and spontaneous. In the hair-raising wild ride of the blazing final Allegro, at one point Ehnes briefly examined his violin, and one wondered if he were looking for scorch marks.

At the piano, Parker was the kind of duo partner violinists dream about: together every step of the way, intuitive, with a technique that verges on the frankly impossible – especially in that runaway-train finale. The audience leaped up with the kind of ovation that only follows a really electrifying performance.

The program opened with the decorous little Beethoven Variations for Violin, Cello and Piano (Op. 44), a piece that had never been performed at this festival before, and it was not hard to tell why; the inspiration in this youthful work was pretty uneven. Erin Keefe, Edward Arron and Jeewon Park gave it a detailed and committed performance.

The pianist Marc-André Hamelin was first among equals in his central role in the Brahms Piano Quintet in F Minor (Op. 34), drawing a magisterial sound from the keyboard in playing that was refined and technically brilliant. With him all the way were violinists Andrew Wan and Augustin Hadelich, violist David Harding and cellist Bion Tsang. A festival that can place an exquisite talent like Hadelich in the second violin chair, by the way, is a festival rich indeed in artistic talent.

Meanwhile, there’s much more to come: Trout (the Schubert-quintet variety) is on the menu for Tuesday, and on Friday the brilliant young violinist Marié Rossano plays the pre-concert recital. Rain or shine, it’s likely to be hot this week in the concert hall.

Royal Nordic Opera Singers, June 26

Nordic Heritage Museum, Seattle

By Melinda Bargreen

Three Danes, an Icelander, and a Swede can make beautiful music together – as Seattle audiences discovered when the Royal Nordic Opera Singers came to the Nordic Heritage Museum on their concert tour. The four singers and their pianist (who also doubled on guitar and as an extra singer in an ensemble) chose a program of opera arias and scenes, traditional Nordic songs, tunes from American musicals, and even an ABBA encore.

In many ways, it was a most unusual performance. Though the singers wore formal concert attire, the ambience was cozy and informal with a lot of repartee and jokes, and the occasional minor gaffe or two. Yet it was almost overwhelming to be only a few feet away from the high-powered opera singers in a modest-sized room, while these same singers can fill a 3,000-seat concert hall with ringing sound.

And ringing it was, especially when the Icelandic tenor and master of ceremonies, Magnus Gislason, sang the famous Puccini aria “Nessun dorma” (from the opera “Turandot”). This was the real thing: a voice of great power and impact, fully up to the heroic requirements of the aria.

The quartet of singers made their entrance in the Act I “Libiamo” scene of Verdi’s “La Traviata,” with Knud Rasmussen at the piano. More opera was to follow, with an adroitly comic ensemble from Strauss’ “Die Fledermaus” (also featuring Gislason’s wife, Danish soprano Randi Gislason, and the Swedish soprano Cecilia Lindwall). Danish baritone Hans Lawaetz joined Lindwall for the seductive “La ci darem la mano” duet from Mozart’s “Don Giovanni.”

Not every aria was an ideal fit with every given singer; Randi Gislason, for example, gave a warmly lovely account of Grieg’s “Jeg elsker dig,” and charmed the crowd with “Meine Lippen, sie küssen so heiss” (from Lehar’s operetta “Giuditta”), but was slightly overtaxed by arias rising to a high B-flat or a high C.

Lindwall’s lyric soprano proved admirably suited to arias such as Dvorak’s “Song to the Moon” (from the opera “Rusalka”), and the eloquent simplicity of Grieg’s “Solveig’s Song” (from “Peer Gynt”). These were beautifully detailed performances.

Lawaetz, the baritone, shrugged off some initial hoarseness and sang with a smooth, more understated ease. At the piano, Rasmussen proved both supportive and extremely versatile.

Magnus Gislason brought an informal, often humorous commentary to the stage, introducing the performers and their selections (there were no printed programs). He had earlier been a mainstay of the company’s 2008 appearance in Seattle in another configuration as the Royal Nordic Tenors. This group, touring since 1997, has performed throughout Europe and as far afield as China and Dubai.

One of Gislason’s memorable anecdotes involved a command performance for Denmark’s Queen Margrethe II, an event fraught with difficulties (from problems with navigation to a missing pair of trousers).

At several points in the Seattle performance, the singers asked the audience to join in the music, and a few did – though the choice of repertoire didn’t always make that easy (these days, only diehard ABBA fans can recall all the words to “Thank You For the Music,” which was released nearly 30 years ago).

The program’s finale was a Gershwin medley, a succession of great tunes presented with energy and obvious affection. After the program, the affable quintet met the audience at a buffet reception . . . complete, of course, with pickled herring.

Seattle Symphony, with conductor Ludovic Morlot and piano soloist Stephen Hough; June 14, 2012

By Melinda Bargreen

Seldom do you hear such an explosion of absolute joy at the end of a Seattle Symphony concert. On Thursday evening, the usually decorous audience leaped out of their seats for a shouting, hooting, whistling ovation, the moment piano soloist Stephen Hough and the orchestra struck the final chords of the Rachmaninoff Piano Concerto No. 3.

What a performance! The Rachmaninoff is one of the biggest and most demanding of the piano concertos, and a guaranteed crowd-pleaser if the soloist has the necessary technique. In the hands of someone like Hough, the Third is practically an incendiary device, lighting up the hall with gasp-inducing cadenzas that emerge with such brilliance and speed that you wonder afterward, “Did I really hear that?”

The opening passages of the concerto were taken at such a clip that conductor Ludovic Morlot and the orchestra were hard pressed to keep up. Hough surged into the score with dazzling fingerwork of almost impossible clarity and accuracy, backing off in the more lyrical passages and then accelerating like a Formula 1 racer. But it wasn’t merely fast and loud; Hough also illuminated the inner voices of the music, and got a tonal palette out of the piano that was extraordinary in its variety. At some points in the third movement, you’d swear those glittering passages were coming from a celeste.

As the concerto progressed and Hough pressed the tempo ever forward, Morlot and the orchestra were running for their lives. Fortunately everybody reached the music’s crucial signposts at about the same time, and the results were breathtaking. Let’s hope the Symphony administrators have Hough’s management on speed-dial; we just heard more than 2,000 fervent votes for a re-engagement.

The program opened with a festive account of Bernstein’s “Candide” Overture, followed by Morlot’s sincere attempt to illuminate the pallid charms of Ives’ pastiche-ridden Symphony No. 2. The latter performance was memorably mainly for the meltingly lovely cello solos of Efe Baltacigil. It took years for the SSO to find a new principal cellist; Baltacigil is worth the wait.

Thursday’s concert was preceded by a heart-warming salute to three players who are leaving the orchestra: cellist Susan Williams, and violinists Virginia Hunt Luce and Jun Liang Du. They will be missed.

Seattle Symphony, with conductor Jesús López-Cobos; June 7, 2012

By Melinda Bargreen

On June 5, Seattle Symphony violinist Elisa Barston got the official call: she was to replace concerto soloist Leonidas Kavakos only two days later. Kavakos had cancelled due to illness.

Barston, who heads the Symphony’s second violin section, stepped up to the challenge. She chose the Prokofiev Violin Concerto No. 1 (instead of the Goldmark Concerto that Kavakos was to play), and underwent a two-day immersion in the score. She had already played the Prokofiev last season with the University of Washington Symphony under the direction of Jonathan Pasternack (with whom she also played the challenging Berg Concerto earlier this spring).

Whether it was nerves of steel or just good preparation – or perhaps both -- Barston did a very fine job as Kavakos’ substitute, and many in the audience stood to salute her amidst the enthusiastic ovation at the concerto’s end. The shimmering, rhapsodic finale of the Prokofiev echoed the contemplative opening, with plenty of wild energy in the middle Scherzo movement. Barston’s steady, true tone, good intonation, and speedy fingerwork all served the music well.

Guest conductor Jesús López-Cobos was a supportive presence on the podium without over-conducting or obtrusively cueing his soloist. In fact, throughout the program, López-Cobos was a relatively laid-back maestro, despite the dynamic, wildly colorful nature of much of the music. The concert opened with Strauss’ heroic display piece, the tone poem “Don Juan,” and after the concerto, it was all-stops-out Spanish-accented fireworks: Joaquin Turina’s brilliantly-hued “Danzas Fantásticas” (Op. 22) and the dazzling Rimsky-Korsakov “Capriccio Espagnole” (Op. 34).

The Spanish-born López-Cobos, music director of Madrid’s Teatro Real for the past seven years and emeritus conductor of the Cincinnati Symphony Orchestra, has an imposing list of international concert and recording credits. His experience and his musicality were both evident in his work with the Seattle Symphony. López-Cobos knows how to get an exciting performance out of an orchestra without flailing or flapping or jumping around on the podium; his mantra seems to be “less is more.” He’s an expressive conductor with a great left hand, but he seemed positively restrained while Rimsky-Korsakov’s spectacularly orchestrated “Capriccio Espagnole” was exploding all round him. There was no such restraint from the musicians, who turned in great solo work all evening (most notably principal oboist Ben Hausmann, Stefan Farkas’ English horn, principal flutist Demarre McGill, and Emma McGrath in the concertmaster chair). In sum, it was an evening to inspire an “Olé!”.

Seattle Symphony, “Bluebeard’s Castle,” Gerard Schwarz conducting; production by Dale Chihuly

By Melinda Bargreen

It’s one of the most visually stunning programs the Seattle Symphony has ever presented. And there’s one more chance (this Thursday) to see and hear this exciting semi-staged production of Bartók’s “Bluebeard’s Castle,” with a glass wonderland of sets by Northwest glass legend Dale Chihuly.

Premiered five years ago, this eye-candy “Bluebeard” has six enormous black boxes that slowly rotate, one by one, to reveal spectacular glass tableaux representing what’s behind each door that Bluebeard’s wife, Judith, opens in his castle. Gasps and murmurs arise from the audience as each set is revealed in turn: rich blues and violets representing Bluebeard’s realm, for instance, or vivid gold stalks depicting his treasury.

The production also presents difficulties for the performers and for conductor Gerard Schwarz: how to place the huge black boxes on the stage without blocking off the orchestra from the audience, or impeding the sightlines between the conductor and the two singers? And how to deal with the seventh and final box, which Judith opens to reveal Bluebeard’s three previous wives?

This time the location of the seventh box (which doesn’t contain a glass set) was changed from the stage front to a position behind the orchestra. Unfortunately, many in the audience weren’t able to see Judith open that door and the three wives (SSO staffers Amy Bokanev, Kelly Boston and Elizabeth Wormsbecker) emerge. The drama was more intact in the 2007 version, when all seven boxes were in the same locale.

The musical values were first-rate. Resonant bass-baritone Charles Robert Austin made a triumphant return as Bluebeard, and Nancy Maultsby’s huge, rich mezzo-soprano made a remarkable impact as Judith. The orchestra gave a powerful performance under Schwarz’s capable baton; he cued the soloists with care and unleashed the tremendous drama in this great score. Helen M. Szablya gave the opening narration an authoritative reading.

The concert’s first half was disappointing: the premiere of Michael Hersch’s dismal “along the ravines” for piano (soloist Shai Wosner) and orchestra. The opening passages sounded like shrieks of dismay from the orchestra, punctuated by clattery attacks from the keyboard. So much effort; so little music.

Seattle Symphony, Schwarz/Toradze (Seattle, Benaroya Hall, April 26)

By Melinda Bargreen

It was one huge whopper of a program at the Seattle Symphony last week, when Gerard Schwarz returned to the Benaroya Hall podium (amidst hearty cheers from the audience) for a pair of concerts featuring the Russian-born pianist Alexander Toradze.

The originally announced program contained only two of the works: the Prokofiev Piano Concerto No. 3, and Shostakovich’s mighty Symphony No. 8. Later, however, some considerable shuffling of Schwarz’s spring programs occurred, and some interesting “Made in America” programs were scrapped in order to make way for two performances of the Mozart Requiem and the Mendelssohn Violin Concerto. (Not that there is anything wrong with the Mozart and the Mendelssohn, both undisputed masterworks, but they are not exactly examples of venturesome programming.)

And so, to the current all-Russian program (featuring Toradze) was added a refugee from some of the concert alterations – the world premiere of a suite, “Five Sky Interludes,” from the opera “Amelia” by Daron Aric Hagen. (The opera was premiered in 2010 at Seattle Opera, with Schwarz conducting.) Composed to bridge and introduce scenes from “Amelia,” whose story line involves themes of flight and death, the music is tonal and full of questing, swooping lines that evoke aerial images. In many ways, the orchestral interludes are some of the most attractive music from the opera; Schwarz’s reading underscored both the lofty themes and the emotional urgency of the music.

The Prokofiev Piano Concerto No. 3 brought out the wizardly pianist Alexander Toradze (slimmer than in his last appearance here in 2010, when he played the Prokofiev No. 5). His firepower at the keyboard remains the stuff of legends. Playing with tremendous force and at all-but-impossible tempi, Toradze blazed through the first movement with such feverish intensity that the audience spontaneously burst into applause. A very free-formed, personal reading of the middle movement gave way to an explosive finale, with Toradze demonstrating how it’s really done -- playing all the individual notes of double-note scalar passages that are often rendered as glissandi by pianists who just can’t get to all those keys in time. Not surprisingly, Toradze and Schwarz (who somehow managed not only to keep up with the soloist, but actually to showcase him) were brought back to the stage repeatedly for curtain calls.

The evening’s finale, the Shostakovich great Eighth Symphony, runs the musical gamut from despair and irony to hope. Schwarz, back in Seattle for one of his periodic appearances as conductor laureate, shaped the reading with a masterly hand, controlling and developing the quiet passages and building the forceful ones with real urgency. Here he was aided by some beautiful string playing, especially from the violas; by the orchestra’s temporary return to his preferred configuration separating the first and second violins; and by some extraordinary solo work from such players as Stefan Farkas (a lengthy and eloquent English horn solo), Zartouhi Dombourian-Eby (piccolo), and Michael Crusoe (timpani). Also outstanding: the beautiful sound of acting principal viola, Arie Schächter.

Don’t miss Schwarz’s return to Benaroya Hall May 15 and 17 for a reprise of one of the most dazzling productions ever to grace this hall: the “Bluebeard’s Castle” with the stunning Dale Chihuly glass sets, first revealed here five years ago. Seeing and hearing this again is an opportunity not to be missed.

Seattle Symphony with Susanna Mälkki and Simon Trpčeski, piano soloist; Benaroya Hall, April 19

By Melinda Bargreen

It has been almost ten years since the pianist Simon Trpčeski made his Seattle Symphony (and U.S.) debut and catapulted right into the top ranks of this city’s favorite keyboard artists. Now an international star, Trpčeski cheerily addressed Thursday night’s Seattle Symphony audience from the stage, telling them how glad he was to return to Benaroya Hall.

The young Macedonian went on to introduce the U.S. premiere of the “Fantasy on Two Folk Tunes” (for piano solo and orchestra), by his countryman Damir Imeri. And seldom has a premiere been played with such obvious enjoyment: Trpčeski sang along with one of the folk tunes as he played this dashing and colorful score.

That wasn’t all: Trpčeski also was the soloist in the Ravel G Major Piano Concerto, a jazzy and cheeky work that has all the insouciance of Paris in the late 1920s. He played with an almost explosive energy in the opening Allegramente movement, but the slower second movement emerged as a quietly private reverie – all graceful touch and wistful melody. (Stefan Farkas’ English horn solo, which later took over the same melody, was remarkably good.) The finale went like a rocket, propelling Trpčeski to his feet after the final chords.

Finnish guest conductor Susanna Mälkki combined graceful precision and fiery energy throughout the program. Her expressive hands shaped the music and made her intentions abundantly clear to the orchestra, which followed her closely all evening. This was a musical lineup that required a strong lead, with not only the Imeri premiere and the concerto but also the Henri Dutilleux Symphony No., which launched the evening.

Dutilleux, now 96, is a favorite composer of Symphony music director Ludovic Morlot, who has programmed other works by this composer in the current season.  The Symphony No. 1, complex and challenging, flourished in the hands of Mälkki, whose clarity and energy gave the players a clear direction.

The final bonbon of this mostly-French program was Dukas’ beloved “The Sorcerer’s Apprentice,” in a vividly characterized performance with a great sense of fun (especially in some of the dramatically exaggerated solo work). Unfortunately, despite the familiar Dukas, the audience size was relatively small; the program carried that undeniable whiff of unfamiliar “contemporary music,” which is not yet audience catnip at the Seattle Symphony..

Review: Seattle Symphony presents Seoul Philharmonic Orchestra with Myung-Whun Chung, April 16

By Melinda Bargreen

Chances are good that unless you are an aficionado of ethnic instruments, you have never heard a sheng in performance.

Chances are even better that you’ve never heard that instrument played the way Wu Wei played it in Benaroya Hall, as soloist with the Seoul Philharmonic Orchestra in the Seattle Symphony’s Visiting Orchestras Series.

Wu Wei is the rock star of the sheng, a 4,000-year-old blown instrument that is sometimes known as the “Chinese mouth organ.” Clad in a black jacket with glittering gold appliqués, Wei played the sheng the way Jimi Hendrix played the guitar, with virtuoso riffs, sharp attacks, and huge dynamic contrasts. With the Seoul Philharmonic and conductor Myung-Whun Chung, Wei was the soloist in “Su,” Unsuk Chin’s Concerto for Chinese Sheng and Orchestra. (Chin was in the house, too, coming onstage for some enthusiastic applause.) The concerto features an exotic soundscape of percussion instruments, with tone clusters and a remarkable array of effects from the sheng (and also from an ensemble from the orchestra, placed at the rear of one of the hall’s balconies).

Wei’s encore, his own virtuoso improvisation on the traditional “Dragon Song,” brought down the house – which took some bringing down. It was an audience that was initially slow to respond, with a great deal of coughing and rustling and a general air of inattention, at least at first. Conductor Chung took quite a chance on his players by programming his opener, Ravel’s “Mother Goose Suite,” a lovely and atmospheric work that is full of very exposed solos for key orchestral players. Some of those solos didn’t come off very well, particularly in terms of intonation; Chung’s spare, restrained reading left lots of little disconnects and gaps in the performance.

He’s an interesting conductor to watch. Chung’s gestures are typically very small, often confined to the right hand and an extremely constrained space. Powerful emotion is demonstrated by the addition of some left-hand gestures. Wild excitement is indicated by two raised arms moving straight downward. That Chung was well aware of his restive, coughing audience was clear from his long delay in starting the final movement of the Ravel suite, as he waited for the hall to quiet down.

After Wei’s spectacular performance on the sheng, however, the program went from strength to strength. Debussy’s “La Mer” and Stravinsky’s “Firebird” Suite, both highly colorful and dramatic works, showcased the power and the sonic beauty of this big orchestra with its high-percentage population of young women. (The whole orchestra seems young and energetic.)

Chung and the Philharmonic had certainly gotten the listeners’ attention, and the noise level in the audience subsided dramatically during the Debussy and the Stravinsky. These were very fine performances, full of picturesque details and some first-rate solo work in the horns and woodwinds. The concertmaster, identified in the program as Svetlin Roussev, also was having a good night; his tone is huge and expressive.

An enthusiastic ovation brought two encores: Rachmaninoff’s “Vocalise” (Op. 34, No. 14), and Brahms’ feisty Hungarian Dance No. 5. Judging from the audience response, they’d be happy with another encore: the return of the Seoul Philharmonic to Benaroya Hall.

Review: Seattle Symphony with violinist Jennifer Koh, March 22, 2012.

By Melinda Bargreen

About halfway through Jennifer Koh’s performance of the Brahms Violin Concerto with the Seattle Symphony, I started worrying about the bow’s horsehair. After nearly every phrase in the first movement, she tore off several broken hairs from the bow. And given the tremendous intensity of her playing, would nothing but a bare stick be left by the end of the Allegro giocoso finale?

Luckily, the bow held up, and Koh’s triumphant performance of the Brahms was one to remember. This was her first collaboration with the Seattle Symphony and maestro Ludovic Morlot – which seems odd, given Koh’s prominence in the violin world. (She has been famous ever since the 1994-95 season, when she won the prestigious Tchaikovsky International Competition, the Concert Artists Guild Competition, and an Avery Fisher Career Grant.)

Better late than never! Koh strode onto the Benaroya Hall stage in a red strapless gown and launched into the music with her eyes closed, her whole body in motion, and her shaggy cap of hair flying as she poured her energy into every phrase.

Born to Korean parents in Chicago, and trained at the Curtis Institute (after making her Chicago Symphony debut at age 11), Koh is an exciting player to hear and to watch, but she doesn’t play to the audience. Most of the time she appears to be in a personal reverie with the music, though she turns to the conductor at key points in the score – transitions, tempo changes, entrances. Apart from those moments, she could be in a world of her own. And it’s quite a world, one of technical near-perfection produced by her incredibly strong, steady tone and the finesse of her phrasing.

Morlot was a good partner in the Brahms, quieting the orchestra to allow some breathtaking pianissimo moments in the solo part to shine, and keeping up with alacrity whenever Koh hit the accelerator pedal.

The programming was interesting, to say the least, beginning with two highly pictorial works from different centuries. The opener brought in the Seattle Symphony Chorale (prepared by Joseph Crnko, who is getting stellar results out of this chorus) for excerpts from Schubert’s “Rosamunde,” nicely characterized with lots of expressive details. The four-part male chorus was particularly impressive.

The Schubert was followed by Janacek’s colorful and intermittently inspired “Taras Bulba,” a picturesque and rhythmic score featuring odd and beautiful combinations of instruments, punctuated by plenty of brass. The score has an almost cinematic sound; it describes episodes from a Gogol novel about a brave but doomed Cossack. It’s not a great piece, but Morlot made a strong case for it, drawing a fine performance from the orchestra and some brilliant solo work from many principals (most notably oboist Ben Hausmann).

And now, Morlot is off the Benaroya Hall podium again until June. It has been, in many ways, a curious first season: a lovefest of an opening-night gala and a brief run of concerts, followed by long absences. Will this schedule allow Morlot the opportunity to shape the Seattle Symphony as he has said he wishes to? Symphony fans are staying tuned – so to speak.

Review: Renée Fleming, soprano, in concert with the Seattle Symphony, Ludovic Morlot conducting (March 16)

By Melinda Bargreen

Over the years, it has been highly enjoyable to watch the evolution of Renée Fleming from ingénue soprano to opera star to iconic diva. While her career has taken a consistently upward trajectory, she never lost the knack of surprising and delighting her audiences – as she did in Friday night’s recital with the Seattle Symphony and its music director, Ludovic Morlot.

Most opera divas don’t pick up the microphone in mid-concert and sing indie-rock songs from the repertoire of Death Cab for Cutie and Muse. Most divas don’t include new works (like the eloquent “We Hold These Truths,” by Todd Frazier) among the familiar bonbons (“O Mio Babbino Caro”) in the encore lineup. But then, Fleming always has been a singer who does it her way: singing the blues as well as the art songs, and bypassing a lot of the usual Verdi and Puccini roles in order to star in operas by Tchaikovsky and Carlisle Floyd.

At 53, Fleming is in the late-career phase, but there was little to suggest this in her Seattle recital – from her appearance, dazzling in two spectacular diva gowns, to the creamy warmth of her expressive soprano. Before she even starts to sing, Fleming somehow draws the audiences toward her just by standing there and smiling, and she enhanced that communication Friday evening with informal commentary from the stage. Introducing Gounod’s famous “Jewel Song” (from “Faust”), Fleming quipped that “This song is about seduction by jewelry … it never worked for me.”

What did work for her, vocally at least, was an expressive and sensuous account of Ravel’s “Shéhérazade,” in perfect sync with Morlot and the orchestra; a fervent reading of the “Jewel Song” from “Faust,” and an exquisite performance of the “Vilja Song” from “The Merry Widow.” For this listener, the evening’s big surprise was hearing Fleming’s heartfelt, lovely “Marietta’s Lied” (from Korngold’s “Die Tote Stadt”). Her first encore, “Io son l’umile ancella” (from Cilea’s “Adriana Lecouvreur”) was eloquently presented.

Less convincing were the miked selections; symphonic versions of rock are seldom successful, and Fleming’s voice (even amplified) was hard to hear in that low register.

Morlot and the orchestra provided spirited overtures (to Gershwin’s “Girl Crazy” and Offenbach’s “Orpheus in the Underworld”), as well as a lively “Bacchanale” from Saint-Saëns’ “Samson and Delilah.” It was Fleming’s first collaboration with Morlot; the cheering audience was clearly hoping it’s the first of many.

What performers can learn from Renée Fleming

By Melinda Bargreen

If you’re a fan of great singing, there was only one place to be in Seattle on March 16th: Benaroya Hall, where the country’s most celebrated diva held court in a concert with the Seattle Symphony Orchestra and music director Ludovic Morlot.

Renée Fleming is the reigning singer of this era, the star of choice for solos at inaugurations and openings and solemn festivities of every kind. She has, however, a long list of attributes besides that incredible genetic gift of a voice. Examining the trajectory of her career, and the qualities of her recent Seattle performance, it’s not hard to come up with a list of points every performer might consider in the development of a career. Here are a few of them:

1. Connect with your audience. From the moment Fleming emerges from the wings, she radiates an energy that reaches from the stage to the far corners of the hall. Her smile, her gestures, and her direct gaze into the house all say more powerfully than words: “I am here to connect with you, and to give you an evening of wonderful music.” Her spoken remarks, introducing each song or aria, conveyed the same feeling – warmth, humor, and great respect for the music she was about to present.

2. Choose what you really want to perform. Many recitals, for instance, follow a tried-and-true formula, starting with some Classical-era selections that may sound more dutiful than inspired. It’s as if the singer or pianist were thinking, “Well, I’d better start with some Mozart; they probably expect that.” Fleming isn’t afraid to mix period and style and musical atmosphere. In her career, as well as her concert programming, she makes such eclectic choices that it’s hard to pigeonhole her in any convenient category.

3. Be generous to your younger colleagues. Fleming has written a book (“The Inner Voice: The Making of a Singer”) that should be required reading for all aspiring singers. It’s frank, autobiographical, and full of tips to help readers negotiate this difficult career path. She also boosts the careers of aspiring young composers, as she did in her Seattle concert by lavishly praising, and performing, an encore by Todd Frazier.

4. Look your best. Yes, Fleming has been blessed at birth by the Beauty Fairy, but she has taken care of herself. Her book recounts her decision to lose weight after the birth of her two daughters, so that she wouldn’t eat her way out of a lot of glamorous opera roles. And you’ll never see her in a dowdy or unflattering gown – unlike some other soloists who appear to have done their shopping in the Department of “What Was She Thinking?”

5. Take the time to learn how to pronounce what you’re singing. Fleming is famous for the authenticity of her French repertoire (made especially clear in her Seattle performance of Ravel’s “Shéhérazade”), but commentators have also expressed astonishment at the excellence of her Czech (in the Dvořák opera “Rusalka”). Pronunciation and diction are vital to communication.

6. Don’t be swayed by the siren call of novelty for its own sake. One place where Fleming went awry, at least for this listener, was in her selection of so-called “indie rock” pieces (which she has recorded), in souped-up orchestral versions that sound slightly embarrassing. The songs, by Death Cab for Cutie and Muse, had to be miked, and the amplification was not enough to project Fleming’s voice in its lowest register. The soloist certainly isn’t responsible for the sound levels in the amplification – but she is for choosing to sing this material with symphonic backup.

     1     7.Never forget to be gracious to your fans, no matter how famous you become. After the Seattle concert, a long and taxing evening, Fleming emerged in the Benaroya Hall lobby to greet her well-wishers and sign CDs and autographs for more than an hour. Now that’s a class act.

Review: Emanuel Ax, pianist in Seattle Symphony recital (March 11, 2012).

By Melinda Bargreen

A whole afternoon of “theme and variations” music: at first glance, this didn’t seem like the most scintillating concept for a piano recital.

But by the time Emanuel Ax played the triumphant finale of Schumann’s “Symphonic Etudes,” the ecstatic audience was calling him back for encores so vigorously that the Benaroya Hall houselights finally were raised to signal “time to leave.”

This gives you some idea of the remarkable intelligence, interpretation, and artistry with which Ax presented his program of Aaron Copland (Piano Variations), Haydn (Andante with Variations in F Minor), Beethoven (“Eroica” Variations) and the aforementioned Schumann. He came out swinging, so to speak, with the thorny and acerbic Copland work – in a considerably more dissonant vein than the folksy Copland of “Rodeo” and “Appalachian Spring.” Ax played the Copland variations with such probing finesse, however, that he made the audience really listen, and ignited an enthusiastic response.

It was the seldom-programmed Haydn work, understated and modest, that was perhaps the afternoon’s most revelatory performance. Originating in a different harmonic universe than the Copland, the Haydn was given an intimate, personal reading that reminded the listener why Ax has been called the least percussive of pianists. His touch is amazing. The keys are not so much struck as sighed upon – moved as if by a breath. There is no sense of fingers or hammers or material mechanisms: the note simply materializes and floats in the air. I have no idea how he does it.

The Beethoven was downright jolly, its familiar theme (which would later become more famous when recycled as the theme of the “Eroica” Symphony finale) with the dramatic dynamic contrasts emerging in a bravura performance. Ax produced daring, athletic interval leaps and brought out the innate humor of the score with its sudden changes in volume.

Ax’s performance of the Schumann “Symphonic Etudes” included (as he announced from the stage) three additional movements besides the original theme and 12 variations (the work has a rather complicated publication and performance history). His reading was remarkable for its emotional range: the various pieces sounded beseeching, wistful, furious, nostalgic, and finally triumphant. There was plenty of firepower, but what lingers in the memory was the array of delicate filigree effects and the brilliant contrasts Ax was able to create at the keyboard.

A prolonged ovation drew him back to the stage for two encores: “Pagodes” (from Debussy’s “Estampes”) and the first “Valse Oubliée” of Liszt. Both were magical.

Review: Garrick Ohlsson, pianist. in President’s Piano Series recital; Meany Theater, March 7, 2012.

By Melinda Bargreen

Special to The Times

Concert pianists never need an excuse to program plenty of Liszt, that titan of the keyboard who composed some of the showiest – and most difficult – music ever written for the piano. But the 2011-12 season has been a veritable Liszt orgy, as pianists around the world have the wonderful excuse of commemorating the composer’s 200th birthday.

The latest nod to Liszt here in Seattle came with the return of Garrick Ohlsson to the President’s Piano Series, where he has been a popular regular over the years. An Ohlsson recital is always an intensely pleasurable experience: you sit back in your seat and wait for what he has to show you this time. It’s always something new: a different take on a familiar piece, a performance that is faster or slower or quirkier than you’ve heard before, and a chance to venture more deeply into Liszt’s sonic world.

No composer is quicker or more merciless to point out a pianist’s technical inadequacies, but Ohlsson doesn’t have any. If Wednesday night’s recital had been immortalized as a live recording, Ohlsson would have precious little to tweak or fix.  His command of such finger-busters as the Mephisto Waltz No. 1 left the Meany Theater audience members fanning themselves, then rising to their feet for one of those whistling, stomping ovations that showed how well Ohlsson had entertained this discriminating audience. The President’s Piano Series attracts listeners who really know piano music, and when they aren’t wowed by the artist, you’ll hear a tepid smattering of applause and the occasional yawn. Not this time.

Ohlsson opened with Liszt’s labyrinthine arrangement of Bach’s Fantasy and Fugue in G Minor, illuminating all the inner voices of the Fugue portion with unusual clarity. The Busoni “Fantasia and Fugue” arrangement of Liszt’s massive “Ad nos, ad salutarem undam” found the pianist in rare form, giving an expansive, huge-scale performance in which every key change sounded like a fresh revelation.

Four Liszt pieces concluded the program: an intimate, picturesque reading of “Les Jeux d’eaux a la Ville d’Este”; the brilliant flutterings of “Feux Follets”; the heavy drama of “Les Funérailles”; and finally the Mephisto Waltz No. 1. The solitary encore couldn’t have been more different from the mighty “Mephisto”: an untitled 1865 “Klavierstück” (Piano Piece) in A-flat major that had a lyrical, improvisatory feel.

No wonder that for keyboard aficionados, Garrick Ohlsson is at the top of the Liszt.

Review: Seattle Opera’s “Orphée et Eurydice,” March 4, 2012

By Melinda Bargreen

When the house lights go down at the opera and the company’s general director steps out of the wings, it’s seldom a good sign.

He (or she, as the case may be) is not there to tell you to silence your cell phones and pagers, though this is always a good idea. He is there to tell you that one of the singers – perhaps the singer you have bought tickets specially to hear – is not going to appear that evening.

But this is not always a disaster. Seattle Opera audience members who were ready to fall on their swords at the news that William Burden, the undisputed star of the current “Orphée et Eurydice,” was unable to perform on March 4th found much to enjoy in the remarkable performance of Burden’s cover, Andrew Stenson. A member of Seattle Opera’s Young Artists Program, Stenson is not new to the company’s main stage, but the role of Orphée is an unusual challenge. Orphée is absolutely central to Gluck’s opera – he is onstage for most of the performance, with singing of such sustained demands on the tenor’s top register (and his memory!) that many would find it unsingable.

The demands are not only vocal: the drama as a whole succeeds or fails on the tenor’s ability to project his absolute despair over the death of his wife Eurydice, his utter joy at her return to life, and his torment over the conditions imposed on her release from the underworld. And then, this must happen all over again, with another death and another revival. Orphée carries the show. If you have an unconvincing Orphée, your audience will be snoring, not empathizing.

Luckily, Stenson was so well prepared that he made everything look easy. His voice is not as large as Burden’s, but it has a lyrical freedom that recalls the young Vinson Cole. Stenson commands an apparently limitless range, a highly developed vocal agility with remarkably good trills, and a passionate conviction that reaches right into the house. No one watching his performance would have guessed – without the announcement – that he was stepping into a production on two hours’ notice when Burden was unable to go on because of an ankle injury.

And what a production! Streamlined, handsome, all elegant simplicity in both the décor and the acting, this Orphée was the work of stage director Jose Maria Condemi, a Seattle Opera regular whose work here has been consistently excellent, and the set designer Phillip Lienau – with great-looking contributions from costume designer Heidi Zamora and lighting designer Connie Yun. Zamora’s gown for the Eurydice, Davinia Rodriguez, was an Oscar-worthy classical Grecian concoction that enhanced every scene in which Eurydice appeared. And her costumes for the dancers (wonderfully choreographed by Yannis Adoniou) were particularly ingenious: the sinuous, stretchy veils of the Furies were an important part of the choreography.

The sets, with stark trees and a grassy hill (used by the dancers as a slide) and a terrific trapdoor descent into the Underworld, were just the right background for all this action.

Gary Thor Wedow, always a pleasure to hear as a conductor, did a great job with what must have been the unusually challenging circumstances of the last-minute replacement of the star. Adding to the fine solo and ensemble work in the orchestra was the authoritative sound of lutenist Stephen Stubbs’ contributions.

Rodriguez’s Eurydice was compelling and moving, and she worked well with Stenson. As Amor, Julianne Gearhart was a charming scene-stealer – charging onto the stage in her gilded bicycle, wearing tall boots and an adorable little costume with small gilt wings (congratulations again to designer Zamora).

Beth Kirchhoff’s chorus, strong and well trained, moved with elegant simplicity and seemed genuinely glad to be there.

So was the audience. A mighty ovation greeted the cast and production team, with a big crescendo for Andrew Stenson and his “a star is born” afternoon in McCaw Hall.

Review: Jan Lisiecki, pianist, President’s Piano Series, Feb. 8, 2012.

By Melinda Bargreen

President’s Piano Series audiences poured into Meany Theater expecting to hear another teen Wunderkind, a term that often translates as “one who plays very fast and very loud.”

Instead, there was 16-year-old Jan Lisiecki, a pianist who is already a fully-formed concert artist of astonishing maturity and depth. It’s no surprise that Deutsche Grammophon has already signed him to an exclusive recording contract. Not since Hilary Hahn – who also signed with Deutsche Grammophon as a teenager – have I heard a young artist who has come so far, so soon.

The program initially looked like a grab bag of the classics: some Bach, some Beethoven, some Chopin, a bit of Mendelssohn, and the obligatory Liszt in that composer’s bicentennial season (Liszt was born in 1811, but his birthday festivities linger on). But Lisiecki, who was born in Calgary to Polish parents in March of 1995, gave the audience a self-assured but engaging talk on the logic behind his program. Bach, who is “the foundation” of keyboard music, was followed by composers who were most closely influenced by him.

Lisiecki’s playing was revelatory. In the opening Bach Prelude and Fugue No. 14 in F Minor, he illuminated the inner fugal voices with remarkable clarity and restraint. The Beethoven Sonata No. 24 was given an almost liquid touch and a great deal of subtlety.

Liszt’s “Trois Etudes de Concert” emerged with delicacy and restraint, not the usual “fast and loud” treatment; the second one, “La leggierezza” (“Lightness”) was particularly lovely, played with an almost glittering dexterity. The third, “Il Sospiro” (“The Sigh”), is the most often heard of the three – it was Victor Borge’s party piece, though Borge never created the exquisitely soft cloud of D-Flat Major that wafted through Meany Theater.

Yes, Lisiecki can play fast. The final Mendelssohn Variation was played as if the piano was on fire, and a few of the Chopin Etudes (Op. 25) were positively hair-raising. Some of the Etude performances were less convincing than others. Yet it all seemed so easy; the pianist hardly looked at his hands or the keyboard, all the while negotiating this difficult program with an accuracy that nudged up against the impossible.

After the “Sturm und Drang” of the Etudes, Lisiecki gave a single encore of the most elegant simplicity: Chopin’s familiar Waltz in C-Sharp Minor (Op. 64, No. 2). It was like a benediction to a hall filled with newfound admirers.

Review: Seattle Chamber Music Society’s Winter Festival, Feb. 2, 2012

By Melinda Bargreen

James Ehnes stepped out onto the Nordstrom Recital Hall stage to a jam-packed house and a chorus of hoots, applause, and shouts of approval.

And he hadn’t even played yet.

Ehnes, the personable and prize-winning violinist who has succeeded founder Toby Saks as artistic director of the Seattle Chamber Music Society, already enjoys an approval rating upwards of 99 percent. He went on to prove how richly that approval is justified, in a program opening the society’s 2012 Winter Festival at an exciting level of artistry. He welcomed the crowd and promised an exciting festival ahead.

That promise was more than fulfilled in the next two hours of focused, assured, and inspiring music making. The evening’s starter was the Mozart Piano Quartet No. 1 in G Minor, given a buoyant, well-mannered reading by Amy Schwartz Moretti (violin), Richard O’Neill (viola), Edward Arron (cello), and William Wolfram (piano). Initially a bit over-pedaled, Wolfram’s contribution grew in clarity as the work progressed, and the finale – a spirited Rondo – was positively jolly.

Ehnes has announced that every program in the Festival will include a work that has never been performed in previous years. This is quite a task, given the giant and comprehensive list of works already programmed by founding director Saks. But apparently Ehnes has come up with a list of previously missed works of quality, and Thursday night’s newcomer was the Shostakovich String Quartet No. 1 in C Major.

Erin Keefe gave the ensemble a strong lead from the first violin chair, with playing that was both nimble and assertive – some of her best work yet. Second violinist Scott Yoo, violist Roberto Díaz (also president and CEO of the prestigious Curtis School of Music), and cellist Robert deMaine joined in a performance that sometimes pushed a little hard (especially in the interior voices), but still conveyed the jaunty, changeable character of the Shostakovich work.

The evening’s greatest rewards came in the finale, Schubert’s Piano Trio in E-Flat Major (Op. 100). Wonderfully tuneful, but also containing generous helpings of repeated material, this is a work that can seem merely repetitious if it doesn’t get an inspired performance. This time it did. Ehnes joined cellist Bion Tsang and pianist Adam Neiman, two longtime festival regulars, in a performance in which almost every phrase was eloquent and remarkable. This was a reading in which each detail had been thought out, right down to every shift in dynamics and every strategic little pause before the resumption of a given melody.

Schubert made relentless demands on the pianist, with repeated chromatic scalar passages up and down the keyboard. Neiman handled them all with panache, bringing down the volume level to splendid effect in some of the quieter melodic passages as the two other players followed suit. Neiman made the piano really sparkle.

This was a performance, in fact, with three great musicians at the top of their game. Tsang has never sounded better, playing with a newer and more expressive freedom. Ehnes’ patrician playing, elegantly phrased and beautifully nuanced, set the tone for an incisive, high-energy performance.

“I was only going to go to the opening performance,” said one concertgoer as the crowds poured out of the hall.

“But now I want to hear them all.”

Review:  Robin McCabe, pianist, in recital

By Melinda Bargreen

From the pianist Robin McCabe, you always expect some pretty spectacular playing. McCabe, the longtime former director of the School of Music at the University of Washington, has described her playing style as “kinetic,” and she has always been the sort of pianist who can toss off the challenging Liszt pieces with the big boys.

In her Jan. 24 recital in Meany Theater, the Liszt technique was very much in evidence – but so was a prevailing musical intelligence that feels like the wisdom accumulated over years of music-making. One of the most significant portions of that recital was her performance of Robert Schumann’s “Kreisleriana,” a set of eight interlinked pieces full of tumult and self-contradiction. McCabe took to the microphone to introduce this cycle to the audience, giving an eloquent defense of the music of “the singular journey we are going on together.” Turbulent, contrarian, full of internal conflicts, the “Kreisleriana” is based on a novel by E.T.A. Hoffman – and it reflects the internal demons that battled within the composer, who descended into mental illness and died in an asylum.

McCabe delineated the various sections, stormy and serenely lyrical, with expert care. The latter pieces of the cycle, hinting at the composer’s love for his wife Clara, featured some virtuoso pedaling – sometimes slightly blurring the outlines of the music, as if in a mist. And once, when the final quiet chord was released by the sustaining pedal, McCabe’s hands held down the keys of that chord in a ghostly echo that lingered on and on.

The program began with a large-scale, magisterial account of the Bach/Busoni Chaconne in D Minor. Liszt got the last word, through his herculean “Sonetto del Petrarca 104” (a work often played by McCabe’s mentor, Bela Siki), and some Liszt transcriptions (including the killer “Concert Paraphrase on the Quartet from ‘Rigoletto’”). The encore was McCabe’s elegantly-played, tactful “lights-out” signal, in Debussy’s nostalgic “La valse plus que lente.” Lovely.

Review: Byron Schenkman and Ingrid Matthews, Town Hall Seattle.

By Melinda Bargreen

A few nights after the Robin McCabe recital (see above), a very different kind of virtuosity came to the Town Hall stage, with a duo recital by the two co-founders of Seattle Baroque Orchestra: harpsichordist Byron Schenkman and violinist Ingrid Matthews.

It has been 18 years – how can this be possible? – since the two players arrived in Seattle to establish the Seattle Baroque Orchestra. With their imaginative programming and highly distinctive performance style, Schenkman and Matthews immediately became popular figures in Seattle’s music scene, proving that there was nothing sedate or bookish about the music played in period style and on period instruments.

The intervening years certainly have not diminished their animated involvement in the music, or the interpretive fire with which they tackled this “Common Ground” program of pre-1704 works for violin and harpsichord. Matthews and Schenkman have developed an utterly seamless ensemble in which each player seems to know exactly what the other is thinking, and their every move is truly “in tune” with the partner.

The program offered “theme and variations” pieces from composers Playford, Bull, Biber, Muffat, Schmelzer, Kerll, Schop, and Baltzar: not exactly mainstream music for most listeners. This must have made the thrill of discovery even more potent for many in the audience, especially when the music was delivered up with the blazing virtuosity of Matthews’ baroque violin and Schenkman’s dainty little 17th-century Italian harpsichord (courtesy of Naomi Shiff). The sounds produced by this duo were anything but dainty: feisty might be a more accurate term.

The whole program had an improvisatory feel, as if the elaborate cadenza-like writing of the variations had occurred to both players on the spot. That impression was enhanced by the fact that the entire complicated program was memorized. Matthews’ expressive and accurate violin was particularly effective in the beautifully shaded Schmelzer Sonata II. Schenkman’s interpretive depth was remarkable in the introspective, deeply considered reading of Kerll’s Toccata I and Passacaglia.

This was indeed a duo recital of rare quality – and one that showed the near-infinite variety that inventive composers can create within the framework of “theme and variations.”

Review: Seattle Symphony with Ludovic Morlot, N. Muhly premiere (Jan. 26, 2012)

By Melinda Bargreen

A world premiere is always a significant event on an orchestral program, though it is not always an audience attractant. But when the premiere is by the young American composer and media darling Nico Muhly, dubbed “the hottest composer on the planet” by The Daily Telegraph, even symphonic audiences sit up and take notice. (So does The New York Times, which – according to Seattle Symphony staffers – sent a writer out to cover the Muhly premiere.)

So how was Muhly’s new orchestral piece, “So Far So Good”?

Well, so far, pretty good. Muhly’s piece is enormously accomplished in many ways: technically assured, making clever use of stacked-up orchestral sonorities and the contrasting timbres of various instruments. The influences of famous minimalists Philip Glass and John Adams are everywhere evident in the “So Fa So Good” score (not surprisingly, since Muhly has worked closely with Glass on film and stage projects). Constantly oscillating and repeated figures, expanded and punctuated now and then with brass outbursts, are the backbone of the new piece, which starts out with tentative dense chords and moves on to rippling, burbling arpeggios as the music grows and develops.

Particularly heroic efforts are required of the keyboard (Kimberly Russ) and harp (John Carrington), where repeated notes go on for so long – especially in the piano – that it must have required all the powers of concentration not to get lost in the score. At some point the music simply stops; there is little sense of closure or a destination.

Conductor Ludovic Morlot gave a clear and committed reading that illuminated the structure of the new work, which was jointly commissioned by the orchestras of Kitchener-Waterloo and Winnipeg as well as Seattle.

The program, which opened with the well-received premiere, went on to Schubert’s classic “Unfinished” Symphony (No. 8), which got a graceful and spirited performance. The orchestra sounds great, particularly considering the number of substitute and extra players required (since about half the Symphony is currently busy playing Seattle Opera’s “Attila”).

The dessert was Marc-André Hamelin’s exquisite performance in the Chopin Piano Concerto No. 2, so subtle and lucid and ruminative that it was like entering the landscape of a dream.

Review: Seattle Opera, Verdi’s “Attila” (January 25, 2012)

Seattle Opera’s “Attila”: Review

By Melinda Bargreen

“Attila” is on the rampage at McCaw Hall (through Jan. 28), and Seattle Opera’s production of this comparative rarity makes the most of this early Verdi work with a stellar cast and a first-rate conductor.

There are good reasons why you don’t often see “Attila” (the Verdi version is pronounced “AT-tilla”) taking a regular turn in the standard repertoire. The libretto is a bit chaotic, with pillaging and plotting and politics all running amok, and some of the plot development doesn’t hang together very well. And then there is the music, which makes extraordinary demands on the four principal singers. The soprano, Odabella (Ana Lucrecia Garcia) is required to produce power at both ends of a more than two-octave span – often in the same aria – while singing with considerable coloratura agility. You need a first-rate bass (John Relyea, lucky us) with a wide expressive range in the title role; you need a mighty Verdi tenor (company regular Antonello Palombi) and a solidly Italianate baritone (newcomer Marco Vratogna).

And, of course, a flexible, agile orchestra and chorus (kudos to choral wizard Beth Kirchhoff), headed by a conductor who really knows the score. Seattle Opera has just such a conductor in Carlo Montanaro, who built on the excellent impression he made last season with “Don Quichotte” by leading the responsive orchestra in a vivid, graceful account of the score that admirably supported the singers.

Bernard Uzan’s stage direction brought the action forward into the present, with guerrilla insurgents and guns and uniforms, and everywhere Attila’s personal logo (a big reddish A with a rifle providing the bar across the letter). Uzan may have thought the opera needed pepping up a bit with executions and sexy slave girls; these were moderately entertaining, but certainly not integral to the action. His handling of the crowd scenes, however, was excellently practical.

The set, originally designed for the Opera National du Rhin by Charles Edwards, was effective and serviceable, but it looked like a singer’s nightmare, with a raked, uneven stage that seemed designed to trip the unwary (luckily there were no tripping in the Jan. 25 performance). Effective projections cannily transformed the rocky walls into the forest where the defeated forces gather strength for another try at Attila.

The chief pleasure here, of course, was the voices. As Attila, Relyea’s resonant, true bass never disappoints; everything he does is musical, beautifully shaded and well rounded. His portrayal of history’s most famous marauder has dignity as well as superstitious self-doubt. Whether he is swaggering or cowering, Relyea’s Attila is richly believable in an opera that is not always so.

And Ana Lucrecia Garcia – what a voice! It’s a force of nature. She barely arrives on stage before launching into her first aria, and it’s a killer, right up to a high C that was almost shocking in its amplitude. Garcia managed the fast passagework, the low tones in the contralto range, and a barrage of high notes with what sounded like genuine ease. That voice floated right to the top of every ensemble (and there were a lot of them). It is fascinating to consider what else Garcia can do what those vocal resources; at one moment in this production, she ended an argument with Foresto evidently by repelling him with a cannonade of fearless high B-flats.

Antonello Palombi, as Odabella’s frustrated suitor Foresto, sounded better than I can ever remember from his previous roles here. His stylish Italianate sound fits the Verdi score perfectly, right down to that incipient sob and the ringing high notes. There were some interesting and successful experiments with voix mixte to leaven passages in the heavier declamatory arias, indicating that there is more to Palombi than the “can belto” style.

Marco Vratogna made a fine impression as the ambitious Roman general Ezio, with an outstanding account of his second-act aria (“Dagli immortali vertici”). Jason Slayden was effective as Uldino, and Michael Devlin was appropriately stentorian as Leone (costumed like the Pope, and brilliantly lit by Connie Yun).

Most opera fans would happily turn out just to hear Relyea sing C major scales. Fortunately, “Attila” offers considerably more: a chance to hear a terrific cast in neglected rarity that is definitely worthy of this fine revival.

For earlier 2011 reviews, please see “2011 Freelance Reviews”.