Scarlata and Kalish at Sac State

Yesterday I attended a vocal recital with baritone Randall Scarlata and pianist Gilbert Kalish at California State University Sacramento as part of this year's New Millennium concert series.  I last saw Kalish in this same series accompanying Dawn Upshaw two years ago. 

What made this particular recital unusual was the emphasis on standard vocal repertoire. How often to you see that these days?  They performed sets by Ives (English), Fauré (French), Beethoven and Schumann (German) with an encore "Ständchen" by Schubert.  These are the mountains of classical song.  To give you an idea of the selections, in this entire program nightingales were mentioned at least four different times, including rossignol in French and Nachtigal in German.

Mr. Scarlata has a particular style of presenting which he employed in all four sets.  He uses gestures, facial expressions and walking rather more than is usually the case, but I found it moving and never too much. 

When Upshaw came, she also did some Charles Ives.  Perhaps Kalish is fond of him, as am I  I was not familiar with any of these but enjoyed their presence.  I like the idea that Ives would become standard repertoire.

Gabriel Fauré setting four texts by Paul Verlaine formed another group.  In my mind Fauré is the greatest of all French chanson composers.  There was a bit of name dropping when Scarlata mentioned discussing repertoire with the great French baritone Gérard Souzay.

For the Ludwig van Beethoven year (250 years since the birth of LvB) we were presented with the very first song cycle, Beethoven's An die ferne Geliebte on poems by Alois Isidor Jeitteles.  It establishes the genre by focusing on an unhappy love affair. 

We finished with the greatest of all song cycles, Robert Schumann's Dichterliebe on poems by Heine.  Scarlata got so excited singing "Ich grolle nicht" that his face turned quite red.  This is a very beautiful set of songs that start sentimental and end tragic. 

There were appropriate changes in style as we moved from one composer to another.  The problem with performing standard repertoire is that one has ones own idea of what one should hear.  I loved the emotion but would have liked a more highly developed idea of legato.  Don't get the wrong idea.  I was very happy to hear this.

Church of Chatter

They called it the Church of Beethoven because every Sunday morning they have a concert at The Kosmos at 1715 5th street.    The space doesn't really look like a church.  There was a coffee shop on one side.

I went for the program.

"At the River" (1916) by Charles Ives, an arrangement for violin and piano of one of Ives' songs.  (I sang this in college.)  It's one of those pieces where Ives changes a hymn into something unexpected.

Chaconne (1998) from The Red Violin by John Corigliano.  This was a very enjoyable selection in neo-romantic style from the sound track of the movie.  I have no idea if it followed the Baroque form for chaconne.  I wasn't paying enough attention.

Poet Bill Nevins, who teaches at UNM, read selections from his recently published book Heartbreak Ridge.

Two minutes of silence.

Sonata No 2 for Violin and Piano (1919) by Charles Ives.
I    Autumn:  Adagio maestoso - Allegro moderato
II   In the Barn:  Presto - Allegro moderato
III  The Revival:  Largo - Allegretto

The artists were David Felberg, violin, and Pamela Viktoria Pyle, piano.  They were both enthusiastic players of this excellent exciting music.  I have loved the work of Charles Ives for many years, and found the intensity of their playing transformative.  It should never be less than this.  David managed to break a few bow strings even.

Coffee, poetry, music, silence.  And no chatter during the playing.  As I always do, I tried to start up a conversation, but it didn't work this time.  Try this if you are ever in Albuquerque.

Charles Ives

I once sang a lot of songs by Charles Ives. He was someone I felt close to. Some of these songs are on this recording of Ives Songs with Susan Graham and Pierre Laurent Aimard which also includes the Concord Sonata. “Ann Street,” a place in New York City, I think, and “From the Swimmers.” I didn’t attempt “Like a sick eagle,” though I would have if I’d known that no one would actually do the glissandi. The song is written with the clear instruction that the singer is to gliss between every note in a phrase. Big ones. But no one does it. It will have to go on existing only in my imagination. She puts in one tiny one. Perhaps it’s too frightening.

Ives is peculiarly American. Spare and dense simultaneously. Cooly modern and sentimental at once. “Memories (A-Very Pleasant, B-Somewhat sad) exactly captures this duality in his character. I felt exactly like that. He is perhaps closest to Satie in spirit.

Susan Graham captures it very nicely.
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