Trash Talk: Griffin’s Willoughby Incinerator Revived by Alan Miller

Willoughby-incinerator1
Between 1930 and 1938, Walter Burley Griffin and Eric Nicholls designed thirteen municipal incinerators in various Australian cities. Built in the heart of the Great Depression, these odd little buildings must have been a creative and financial godsend for Griffin, an architect whose splendid dreams were too often thwarted by unsplendid clients. The incinerators, which often sat in suburban streets, were ‘green’ infrastructure avant la lettre, fascinating both as urban history and as a possible model for the urban transformations required by the 21st century.

Read the full article on The Berkshire Review, an international journal of the arts.

Alan Miller

Where’s Charley? by George Abbott and Frank Loesser at City Center Encores!

Where's Charley? New York City Center. Photo Joan Marcus.

Where’s Charley? at City Center Encores!
New York City, March 16-20, 2011

Based on Brandon Thomas’ Charley's Aunt
Book by George Abbott
Music and Lyrics by Frank Loesser

Cast:
Sebastian Arcelus, Jeff Brooks, Rebecca Luker,
Dakin Matthews, Rob McClure, Howard McGillin,
Jill Paice, Lauren Worsham

Directed by John Doyle

Sometimes it can be the simplest gesture that tips off an audience they’re in for a theatrical treat. In the recent City Center Encores! revival of Where’s Charley? the clue took place in the opening quartet in which two young couples alternated in duet. When they weren’t singing, the performers pulled their chests up high, linked arms and bounced subtly and elegantly on their toes in time to the music. Here was imaginative choreography where an understated move (think Fosse’s hat-tilt) said everything! Here were singers who could dance! With just one exception, the entire performance lived up to its early promise of stylish fun.

Read the full review on the Berkshire Review, an international journal for the Arts!

Michael Miller




Gluck's Iphigénie en Tauride at the Met with Susan Graham and Plácido Domingo, by Michael Miller

Susan Graham and Plácido Domingo in Gluck's Iphigénie en Tauride. Photo Ken Howard/Metropolitan Opera.

Metropolitan Opera House
February 26, 2011 Matinee, HD Transmission/Simulcast

Iphigénie en Tauride
Christoph Willibald Gluck
Libretto - Nicolas-François Guillard

Iphigénie - Susan Graham
Oreste - Plácido Domingo
Pylade - Paul Groves

Conductor - Patrick Summers
Production - Stephen Wadsworth
Set Designer - Thomas Lynch
Costume designer - Martin Pakledinaz
Lighting Designer - Neil Peter Jampolis
Choreographer - Daniel Pelzig

Iphigénie en Tauride is a co-production with Seattle Opera.

What a splendid idea to revive Gluck's final masterpiece, Iphigénie en Tauride, on two great stages at opposite ends of the continent. Gluck, the great reformer, has been too long little more than a  chapter — or, worse — a section of a chapter in music history books, and recent attempts to bring his works to life on 21st century stages are for the most part commendable, whether they succeed or not, although I did sense a touch of cynicism in the excruciatingly fashionable Orphée of Mark Morris and Isaac Mizrahi — and a fashion statement (or ad) is not what we want in these unmitigatedly dignified works.

Read the full review on the Berkshire Review, an international journal for the Arts!

Michael Miller




Handel’s Partenope in Sydney by Andrew Miller

Partenope1
Though perhaps not one of Handel's finest operas, Mr Alden's production of Partenope plays up its farcical tendencies past the point of ridiculousness and vulgarity and never really climbs out of the dishwater. A farce, even the silliest one, is still emotional, in fact it depends on emotions, however simple, to work, but it becomes cold when played as a series of jokes without wit. In addition, for some cheap intellectualism, Mr Alden imposes references to Man Ray's surrealist photography, but forced without honest reason, onto an opera which doesn't even have any interest in being surreal, they become clunky and arbitrary.

Read the full reviewon The Berkshire Review, an international journal of the arts.

Alan Miller

A Singer’s Notes 30 by Keith Kibler: Our Town, at Hubbard Hall. Go to this!

A Singer’s Notes 30: Our Town, at Hubbard Hall. Go to this!

The Cast of Thornton Wilder's "Our Town" at Hubbard Hall. Photo © 2011 Jonathan Barber.

Thornton Wilder's Our Town, at Hubbard Hall, Cambridge, New York


Thoreau told us that the bluebird carries his sky on his back. He knew if we could see this we would know the color of Heaven. This is the way Our Town works. It is quiet. One scene — the one at the soda fountain — makes the difficulty of talking almost a touchable thing. Laconic sentences in the play mean more than just their sense; they pull the listener. "Know they will" says Howie Newsome, a couple of times. Syntax made into sound. To Wilder this seemed to be the language of New England. And this is precisely the sound that the Theatre Company at Hubbard Hall production found so directly last weekend. It was all going along well enough until the scene between the two young ones in the soda fountain. Then it was one of those times when that little voice says, "This is really good. I've never heard anything so good. This is one of those nights when it's going to happen. I will not forget this. How did they hear it so well? This is how I knew it would sound. Will it ever be like this again —  even tomorrow night?" You know what I mean. There was nothing much to see in the scene, just a board over two chairs, but there, two very, very fine young actors made us believe that their love was not only carried but embraced by their reticence. It's a quiet scene, full of stops. It's a proposal, but one in which the word "marry" is never said. Alexandra Jennings's Emily was an astounding creation, like no other Emily I have seen. It was jerky, abrupt, strong, awkward, penetrating. She seemed like a real teenager, not a sentimental version of a teenager from a hundred years ago. She made you hear the waiting that women must do, and somehow you felt she led even then. Jim Staudt as George had an even tougher task. Being a wonderful actor, really wonderful, he made us believe he had a lot of trouble speaking. Most powerful in this scene was the utterly creative listening these two marvelous actors did, short terse sentences made into music, and the listening in between the most profound eloquence of all. I have to say that this was one of the finest 15 minutes on stage I have seen in years. I will not forget it. They made me see how beautifully the play works when the actors hear.

Read the full review on the Berkshire Review, an international journal for the Arts!

Michael Miller




Tyondai Braxton with the Wordless Music Orchestra at the Tully Scope Festival, by Douglas DaSilva

Tyondai_braxton
Tyondai Braxton. Photo Grace Villamil.

Tyondai Braxton with the Wordless Music Orchestra, Caleb Burhans, conductor
Tully Scope Festival, Lincoln Center
Monday, March 7 at 7:30 pm

John Adams - Road Movies
Caleb Burhans - In a Distant Place
Louis Andriessen - Workers Union
Tyondai Braxton - Selections from Central Market and new compositions

Post-performance discussion with Tyondai Braxton and Ronen Givony

March 7, 2011 marked a brave direction for Lincoln Center’s Tully Scope Festival with an evening of music exclusively by composers who are (gasp!) still alive. This concert, which featured the music of Tyondai Braxton along with works from John Adams, Caleb Burhans, and Louis Andriessen was an important inclusion in this exciting and eclectic festival. Tully Scope would reinforce the importance of programming living composers two nights later with Kayhan Kalhor and Brooklyn Rider’s even more daring presentation of works by living composers including the New York premiere of Jacobsen’s “Beloved, do not let me be discouraged” and the World Premiere of Philip Glass’ “Suite for String Quartet from Bent.”

Read the full review on the Berkshire Review, an international journal for the Arts!

Michael Miller




Purcell and Handel with Andreas Scholl & Co., by Andrew Miller

Henry Purcell (left), line engraving by Robert White, after John Closterman and George Frideric Handel (right), line engraving by Jacobus Houbraken.

Sydney Recital Hall, Angel Place: 12 March 2011
part of the Musica Viva series
repeat performances in Sydney 21 March, Brisbane 23 March, Adelaide 25 March

Andreas Scholl - countertenor
Tamar Halperin - harpsichord
Daniel Yeadon - viola da gamba, Baroque cello
Tommie Andersson - baroque guitar, theorbo

Scholl
Andreas Scholl. Photo: Keith Saunders.

Henry Purcell
Music for a While
from Oedipus, Z583 (c ?1692)

Sweeter than Roses 
from Pausanius, the Betrayer of His Country, Z585 (c 1695)

Evening Hymn, Z193 (c 1688)

Round O in D minor, ZT684 (c 1695)

Since from My Dear Astrea’s Sight 
from The Prophetess, or The History of Dioclesian, Z627 (c 1690)Fairest Isle 

from King Arthur, Z628 (c 1691)

Dido’s Lament 
from Dido and Aeneas, Z626 (c ?1689)

Harpsichord Suite in G minor, Z661 (c 1696)

Halperin
Tamar Halperin. Photo: Keith Saunders.

O Solitude, Z406 (c 1687)

Man is for the Woman Made 
from The Mock Marriage, Z605 (c 1695)

George Frideric Handel
Sonata in G minor, op 1 no 6 HWV364 (c 1724)

Vedendo Amor (When Cupid Saw), HWV175 (1707–08)

Tunes for Clay’s Musical Clock (selection) (c 1730–40)
Arranged by Tommie Andersson

Harpsichord Suite no 2 in F major, HWV427 (c 1710–17)

Nel dolce tempo (In That Sweet Time), HWV135 (c 1710)

Most seem to agree musical historicism can go too far: imagine a Plymouth Plantation-style re-enactment of a concert of Baroque music with the audience coming and going, eating picnics in the gods, a musician wearing a modern watch dismissed as a "farb." Luckily most musical historicists are more practical and flexible. For this concert the hall lights stayed up, which is a nice touch, even if electrics are not as pretty as the candle-lit halls of days past. Unfortunately, and I assume unintended by the musicians, the audience did come and go in between the first several songs, which not only rudely made the musicians wait but disrupted the flow of the program, and one woman, having missed three or four songs, came clumping down the wood-floored aisle in high-heels making an incredible noise. More cheerfully, Mr Scholl had the audience join in on the refrain of Purcell's Man is for the Woman Made, which, according to Mr Scholl, is what Purcell intended when he originally composed it, for light relief in the theatre. And it did provide some short refreshing relief among the quite serious music in this program.

Read the full review on the Berkshire Review, an international journal for the Arts!

Michael Miller




Purcell and Handel with Andreas Scholl & Co. by Andrew Miller

Purcell-and-handel

Most seem to agree musical historicism can go too far: imagine a Plymouth Plantation-style re-enactment of a concert of Baroque music with the audience coming and going, eating picnics in the gods, a musician wearing a modern watch dismissed as a "farb." Luckily most musical historicists are more practical and flexible. For this concert the hall lights stayed up, which is a nice touch, even if electrics are not as pretty as the candle-lit halls of days past. Unfortunately, and I assume unintended by the musicians, the audience did come and go in between the first several songs, which not only rudely made the musicians wait but disrupted the flow of the program, and one woman, having missed three or four songs, came clumping down the wood-floored aisle in high-heels making an incredible noise. More cheerfully, Mr Scholl had the audience join in on the refrain of Purcell's Man is for the Woman Made, which, according to Mr Scholl, is what Purcell intended when he originally composed it, for light relief in the theatre. And it did provide some short refreshing relief among the quite serious music in this program.

Read the full review on The Berkshire Review, an international journal of the arts.

Alan Miller

Eye to Eye: European Portraits 1450–1850, Clark Art Institute, January 23 – March 27, 2011

Thomas de Keyser (Dutch, c. 1596–1667), Portrait of a Young Woman, c. 1630–33.
 Oil on panel.


Eye to Eye: European Portraits 1450–1850

Four Centuries of Portraits by Masters, Including Memling, Cranach, Parmigianino, Ribera, Rubens, Van Dyck and David
Sterling and Francine Clark Art Institute, January 23 – March 27, 2011
Catalogue
Eye to Eye: European Portraits 1450–1850
by Richard Rand and Kathleen Morris
with an essay by David Ekserdjian
Published by the Sterling and Francine Clark Art Institute, Williamstown, Massachusetts, and distributed by Yale University Press, New Haven and London
ISBN 978-0-300-17564-6

The Clark usually manages to show at least one exhibition from an important private collection every year, and for us, the public, this is surely one of its healthiest policies. The Clark, after all, originated from a private collection, an idiosyncratic one, as the best private collections usually are, and the professionals who have been responsible for it since have made an effort remain true to the vision of the founders. Even after the Manton Bequest, a rather different, but compatible private collection, the atmosphere and ethos remain the same. To host distinguished private collections of a variety of different sorts is both an hommage to the initiative of the Clarks and an open window on different worlds, some of which, like the selection from the Steiner Collection of old master drawings, have found their way into the permanent collection. Others come and go, enriching the galleries for a few months, then leaving them open for other guests. I can think of few other institutions where such exhibitions seem so much like polite hospitality.

Read the full review on the Berkshire Review, an international journal for the Arts!

Michael Miller




Jean-Efflam Bavouzet Piano Recital: Beethoven, Liszt, Wagner and Debussy , by Andrew Miller

Jean-Efflam Bavouzet Piano Recital: Beethoven, Liszt, Wagner and Debussy

Bavouzet
Jean-Efflam Bavouzet.

City Recital Hall, Angel Place: 7 March 2011

Ludwig Van Beethoven
Piano Sonata no.8 in C minor, op.13, Pathétique

Claude Debussy
Clair de lune
(from Suite bergamasque)
Et la lune descend sur le temple qui fut
(from Images, Series 2)
La terrasse des audiences du clair de lune
(from Préludes, Book 2)

Debussy arranged Bavouzet
Jeux – Poème dansé

Franz Liszt
Prelude and Isolde’s Liebestod, after Richard Wagner, S447
Grosses Konzertsolo, S176
En Rêve

When speaking of modern music, it may be the complexity of rhythm or harmony of the piece in question, a lack of memorable melodies or it may be a simplicity in the rules implicitly underlying thepiece, which only makes the freeness of the music seem complex to the listener's higher faculties when they try to analyze it. Just as a thing can be understood intuitively or felt strongly to be so which the thinking, rational part of the mind finds impossible to prove, or can only justify after much difficulty. Some point to Debussy's L'après midi d'un faune as the first usher of 20th Century music. It was and is modern in its own way, even if people often seem to expect modern music to shock, and maybe are a little disappointed if it doesn't. Faune doesn't exactly shock — only insofar as it meanders and doesn't climax and resolve in a familiar romantic or classical way. Whether it shocked 120 years ago is another matter and difficult to answer nowadays — a history of the ear would be a hairy book to write. Interestingly, modern "ballet" and music were born almost simultaneously: the first modern ballet which peeled off completely from classical and romantic ballet is considered by some to be Stravinsky and Nijinsky's Sacre du printemps, and it did shock of course, starting a riot in Paris (though not in London). It's hard, and perhaps not interesting, to separate the shock of the music from the choreography. Though trained in the Imperial Ballet School, Nijinsky's choreography included nearly everything forbidden by classical ballet technique. But it wasn't just conscious technique or style which made it modern, it was the unfamiliar preter- and supernatural imagery, even stranger than romantic ballet's, the artists' free social attitudes, the hemlines inching up. Such things were perhaps implicit in the Second Viennese School's music too, though nobody tried to dance to it, so perhaps both groups' music had the same spirit, evenif they had different souls. Debussy's music also appealed to Nijinsky, even if it was Diaghilev who picked the composers, choreographing the Faune as well as Jeux,which premiered but two weeks before Sacre du printemps. Though Nijinsky's rules were also simple to the point of non-existence the actual steps were complex enough that none of his dancers remembered the choreography afterwards, except for Faune, which is seemingly simple in its angular lines and its subtle internalized emotions and simple psychology.

Read the full review on the Berkshire Review, an international journal for the Arts!

Michael Miller