Review: Clouds of Forgetting, Clouds of Unknowing (Great Noise Ensemble)

There has never been a better time to be an adherent of new music. Any genre, any aesthetic is fair game for today's recital hall. The options can be dizzying - like picking out a pasta sauce (Old-world-traditional-garlic? Chunky-4-cheese? caramelized-onion-mushroom-arrabbiata??). But if you know what you want, it is there waiting for you to take it off the shelf.

If new and different music is what you seek, check out what Great Noise Ensemble is serving up. Their season closed last Friday with a performance of John Luther Adams' Clouds of Forgetting, Clouds of Unknowing. This took place at the UU Church of Silver Spring, which hosted GNE in 2009, and in 2006 for the memorable Steve Reich 70th birthday concert. It's really a great space to play and listen, and this evening was no exception.

Billed by the composer as creating "a small time and space for extraordinary listening," this 70-minute large chamber work was a bold and rather remarkable programming choice. John Luther Adams doesn't have the instant name recognition of Glass or (the other) Adams that would draw some in. And Clouds itself is a real endurance challenge for both performer and audience - but one that will repay your attention like few other compositions. The 19 movements progress from a prolonged unison to gradually larger intervals. Each section features contemplative figures that alternate, repeat, and build on each other. A few raucous bell-like movements provide some added surface activity, but it largely comes across as one gradual progression from small to large intervals.

After 70 solid minutes amid a sea of consonances and unobtrusive dissonances, the final movement closes in on the single most satisfying cadence I have ever experienced. Persistent sevenths resolve up into octaves - plain, vanilla, beautiful octaves. All imperfections finally removed, these reduce to a high unison on two violins then fade into silence.

Under the baton of conductor and artistic director Armando Bayolo, the performers played with impressive precision, tone, and endurance. The accompanying slideshow of Alaskan vistas, put together by the venue's music director Michael Holmes, had real distraction potential. Thankfully, the artfully chosen images and slow pace were a welcome complement.

This sort of music demands a different sort of attention - an elite listener, even - but it's an investment well worth your time. Such a meditate musical experience is rare, even in the option-filled marketplace that is new music.

Review: The King of Limbs

Radiohead's The King of Limbs e-dropped yesterday, a day ahead of schedule. Critics are flummoxed, yet everyone and their moms have already reviewed it.

For a few musings and commentary, read on. For a hastily-written track-by-track description, see any other website anywhere.

The Music

Download the album (or sample). Listen, then read.

Lotus Flower: Already the popular single of the bunch, and the vocals sit out for the first ¼ of the song! Clap along. They sure like the number 5. Love it! Little touches like this even overshadow the weird dancing. Count all the different sound sources in this unassuming gem. They make great use of their impressive electro-acoustic sonic palette.

Codex and Give Up the Ghost: Man, these guys go a long way with ~35 words. Vague as ever, and just concrete enough to mean anything you need them to. I seriously might start meditating to Codex. "The water's clear and innocent." Defeated, hopeful, reflective, detached. Yorke could affect the same just singing the phone book.

Bloom: This track has a nice layered ambience to it. Cross-rhythmed synths, jittery percussion, and a subtly active bass churn along under the strung-out vocals. Oops, left-channel Thom jumps the gun at 3:47 - love it! Snare's a little hot in the mix, though.

Feral and Morning Mr. Magpie: Both vying for the uptempo slot, clocking in near 136 bpm. If you're looking for more of Radiohead's aggressive bent - busy percussion/bass with brief and punctuated electro-weirdness - start with Feral. Morning Mr. Magpie offers a tad more lyricism, albeit edgy and accusatory. If you exercise to strange pop music like me, file this pair a couple notches under 2+2=5 and Sit Down Stand Up.

Little By Little and Separator: Poppy guitar and vocals, I guess, but not much to catch my ear (yet). Little By Little seems to be among the internet's favorite. And Separator sure panders to speculations of a multi-album vision. Wait and see.

The Reviews

Luke Lewis of nme.com gets my Best Review Award:

"[...] sound organic and synthetic at the same time, dredging human feeling from seemingly forbidding material."

"It's no In Rainbows."

Apart from his puzzling characterization of "bracingly avant-garde" (Really? Really??), he's mostly right on. He also gets bonus points for not mentioning Philip Glass even once. Speaking of...

"Meedly-beep, meedly-beep, meedly-beep"

Oh, that sounds just like Philip Glass! If you believe the internets, any repeating pattern now sounds like Glass. But ask yourself, where does that meedly-beep end up by the end of the piece?...

Kids, listen up. Radiohead has about as much in common with Glass as Queen does with Vanilla Ice. Glass has gradually (fittingly?) grown into the most mis-cited music influence of our time. Critics, please learn the basics of process music and minimalism! Glass, your subjects, and your audience all deserve better.

The Expectations

A return to OK Computer's familiarity... A continuation of the driving, electro-experimentation of Hail to the Thief and in Rainbows... A catchy melody... That missing jigsaw piece... Whatever people were expecting, many didn't seem to find it in the first 24 hours post-The King of Limbs.

Radiohead's brilliance, success, and enigmatic PR has painted the band into a strange corner. On first listening, anything less than mind-blowing seems a disappointment. But this is no throw-away album. Live with it for a few weeks, and see how its layers grow on you.

It's not yet my favorite offering, but 100% worth your time, attention, and $ (or £). Get it here. Leave thoughts below.

Extras, Show #2, Reviews

EXTRAS

Following tonight's show, we'll be uploading pictures, audio/score samples, and other great behind-the-scenes extras! Leave any requests in the comments.

SHOW #2

Tonight! Tuesday, July 13 at 10:00pm.

In this lovely, 140-seat, air-conditioned space:

Mount Vernon Place United Methodist Church

900 Massachusetts Ave NW, Washington, DC

REVIEWS

More reviews coming soon!

1. Joel Markowitz (DC Theatre Scene, via Facebook)

- "Oblivion is so beautiful, one hour of sheer beauty."

- "Don't miss it. I'm going to make time to see it again."

- "The Plumtree [...] is one of the most beautiful songs I have heard on the stage."

2. Bob Anthony (allartsreview4u.com)

- "His libretto was lyrically most adept."

- "Rachel Evangeline Barham and Alexander Wolniak had very smooth legato with sincere acting so they commanded the stage artistically."

Visit the website to read these snippets in a fancy, Fading Scroller. My, your text fade-ins are so... gradual!

www.kylegullings.com

See you tonight!

Oblivion reviews

Thursday's premiere of Oblivion went so well! Check out the reviews and plan your visit today!

www.kylegullings.com

Review: Rudin's Celebrations (mov.1) at Swarthmore - Dec 13

Andrew Rudin has all the hallmarks of a real musical craftsman. His colorful effects are expertly conceived and carefully timed, his rhythms are alternatingly intense and ruminative, and his large and small-scale gestures are clear and deliberate. His aesthetic offers a compelling combination of old-school technique and eminently listenable appeal.

A concert last Sunday at Swarthmore College provided another chance to take in Rudin's work, with a performance of Celebrations for two pianos (Marcantonio Barone and James Freeman) and percussion (Anthony Orlando). Although other movements and indeed other compositions were also featured, the first movement of Celebrations is available online!

Take a listen to the rehearsal, or, if Facebook allows, watch the performance itself.

A low, creeping piano melody sets the stage for the initial section lasting three-and-a-quarter minutes. Soft metallic percussion insinuates itself subtly into the mix, brightening the tone just a bit. A second formal area, announced by a strident triangle, raises the pitch clearly out of the basement. Vaguely quartal harmonies predominate with a health mixture of biting dissonances besides. Perhaps not coincidentally, this section is of identical length as the first.

Just over half way through the movement, a pulsating figure in marimba and piano provides a rhythmic vitality familiar to Rudin listeners. This underlies a lovely, angular melody that turns both sweet and brilliant. Nearly nine minutes in, the percussion swells to deliver the dynamic peak of the work.

From the ensuing silence, a single bowed vibraphone melts into a tight piano trill, signaling the start of the final section. Similar calculated and recognizable "color moments" can be found in many of Rudin's works and are a real joy to hear. Gradually, the music works itself back to a stoicism reminiscent of the opening. Vibraphone bell-tones are answered by low tolling in the pianos. Ultimately, the work winds down to the same place it started: with a simple, delicate tolling of single notes, ending on a low E natural - the same pitch that began the Celebrations eleven minutes before.

And that's only the first movement!

Reminder: You can get a quick list of all my reviews by going here... OR, through my website's handy Review gadgets. Enjoy, and come back tomorrow for a Celebrations-inspired haiku!

Review: Bela Fleck, Edgar Meyer, and Zakir Hussain with the Honolulu Symphony Orchestra

Last Sunday the Honolulu Orchestra presented what appears to be their only new-music offering of the season: composer and double bassist Edgar Meyer's The Melody of Rhythm, a triple concerto for banjo, bass, and tabla. I bought the MP3 album on Amazon (only $9!), and I absolutely can't recommend it highly enough.

Performers Béla Fleck, Edgar Meyer, and Zakir Hussain are simply amazing musicians and collaborators. Hear some interviews on Boston's Here & Now and PRI's The World (bottom of the page).

So much could go wrong combining these three distinct genres, leading to a confused and watered down presentation of each. But this is no mere stylistic mash-up. In the hands of these brilliant performers, Meyer's work forges a memorable and convincing amalgam that fully realizes the potential of collaborative music.

Movement I

Fleck's solo banjo, echoed by flutes and xylophone, unfolds a frenetic and monophonic opening theme. This unconventional doubling sets the stage nicely for the coming array of orchestral colors and doublings, and is proceeded by the first entrance of all three soloists. A warm, slowly undulating orchestral texture with high sustaining strings provides a nice interlude before the entrance of a cantabile and memorable folksy melody.

As the movement progresses, material returns with added contrapuntal interest. A walking bass line supports a frenetic banjo line. The winds enjoy a rare spotlight through their countermelodies. Three-part orchestral lines intertwine then mingle with a richer chordal texture.

Although all three soloists benefit from solos in this movement, the most attention is given to the tabla. Perhaps Meyer wanted to establish early on that the foreign tabla has a rightful place in this orchestral context. Hussain's rhythmic mastery and sensitivity to vocal inflection leaves no doubt about that. His first extended solo shows off the remarkable melodic range of the instrument as well as strokes so inhumanly rapid they approach definite pitches.

With just under one minute remaining, the folk melody returns high in the bass register with the other soloists accompanying. The movement is framed nicely by a succinct return of the quick banjo line coupled with flute and xylophone, effectively preparing the listener for the more subdued character of the slow movement.

Movement II

The captivating second movement begins plaintively with ascending perfect 5ths in the brass that interlock to form some pleasing dissonances. This spare introduction builds then gives way to one of many soulful strains of a high bass solo. A flowing triple meter prevails.Remarkable color is achieved through a banjo melody doubled by low flutes, and the cellos chime in with quick duple figures. The banjo, bass, and tabla at last combine in a tight melodic and rhythmic unison before this first tension is released. After a hint of the introductory 5ths, Fleck's lovely solo work returns, including a hypnotic two-against-three solo figure that is simply arresting.

Finally, a true return to the opening brass lines is begun then quickly interrupted by the full orchestra. A brief solo trumpet line sustains over final, subdued orchestra chords, leaving a complex sense of repose in its wake that lingers nicely in concert. (The CD really needs more time between tracks.)

Movement III

This final movement takes advantage of the widest range of influences. Beyond the previous Indian and U.S. folk strains, we also hear Debussian harmonic planing, jazz-like solo trade-offs, and "full stop" string and brass chords reminiscent of Stravinsky and Copland. Meyer has saved the strongest orchestral presence and solo passages for last.

A charming, melody-driven groove develops gradually, drawing on asymmetrical metric patterns. Using this visceral momentum, the soloists really take off. Meyer saws away at yet another soaring solo with unbelievable technical flourishes. The banjo and tabla pick up the action in rhythmic and pitch-relative unison, truly highlighting the melodic capabilities of this percussion instrument.

The movement's final section begins with a complexity approaching free jazz: all three burst out in a cacophony of independent, simultaneous soloing. They make their way back to a unison statement, then trade off phrases like a jazz trio, cementing their impressive abilities for unity of gesture and color. The tumult of the orchestra returns followed by a brief yet definitive ending statement.

Summary

Expect great things from this album and from the future output of these three phenomenal artists. If you haven't already, do yourself the favor of purchasing either the MP3 album or the hard copy CD, and give it a listen. For your trouble, you'll also get six additional tracks comprising 36 minutes of equally sophisticated and fun music by the same artists. It's well worth the time and money, if you ask me.

Review: Orchestra 2001 - May 24, 2009

Sunday, May 24, 2009, 3PM
Swarthmore College: Lang Concert Hall, Swarthmore, PA
Orchestra 2001 - James Freeman, conductor

There is something inherently strange, even challenging about the act of listening to music by a living composer. When discussing deceased composers, one benefits from the comfort of physical separation. In contrast, experiencing and evaluating a living composer's work is as much a social encounter as an artistic one.

This past Sunday, Orchestra 2001 gave the audience at Swarthmore College ample reason to feel challenged. They put on a polished, passionate concert of new and relatively new works, all by living composers. David Finko, Andrew Rudin, and John Corigliano, all born within three years of each other, represent a generation who grew up just as modernism was giving way to post-modern eclecticism. Even in their recent works, these composers retain a respect for the fundamentals of composition - form, orchestration, counterpoint - while seeking new modes of expression.


Moses, David Finko's 1971 concerto for piano and orchestra, was the only programmed work more than three years old, and it did stand out in certain regards. A prominent brass line led by the trombones opened the work. Brash melodic statements and a wide range of piano textures were reminiscent of a late Romantic sentiment dressed in new clothing. The music had a strong sense of dramatic purpose, with clear emotional goals and corresponding orchestrational colors.

Finko's Concerto for Piccolo and Orchestra (2006) definitely felt more contemporary, rather than Romantic or Modern. According to the program notes, the piece "...represents the mentality of Slavic people..." Finko avoided on-the-nose references that could be reasonably mistaken for actual folk material, yet he nevertheless succeeded in finding and expressing something true about the human experience. The virtuosic piccolo writing was superb.


I very much enjoyed Andrew Rudin's Concerto for Piano and Small Orchestra in Washington, DC, last year, so I came to his Concerto for Viola, Strings, Harp, Piano and Percussion (2007) with great anticipation. Rudin's style strikes me as a confluence of Romantic sentiment with Modernist tools and clarity - a gross oversimplification, of course. I'm not referring to late Romantics like Strauss or Mahler, but rather a conglomeration of drama and lyricism with contemporary craft and intellectual rigor.

The first movement of the Concerto featured a viola cadenza that was passionate and lyrical despite its disjunct contour - lyrical like a Webern piano piece played well. The double stops section was reminiscent of Ginastera's masterful Violin Concerto. In other spots - particularly in the third movement and the end of the first, the viola was virtually covered up by the orchestra. This highlights an important challenge posed by the instrument: How does one make the traditionally "accompanimental" viola into a compelling solo voice without falling back on obvious tricks such as extreme ranges or heavy extended techniques? Aside from the balance issues noted above, though, Rudin's strong writing largely answered this question.

While the final movement was more active and uptempo, the real standout portion of the work (and in some ways of the entire concert) was the second movement, particularly due to its orchestration. The timpani was used as a hand drum (a technique new to me!). Near the end, an extended suspended cymbal roll leading into the final viola recitative section formed an unexpected yet perfect transition. Finally, a major-major seventh chord coinciding with a tam-tam hit combined two of my favorite colors; I could honestly listen to just those two sounds for minutes on end. The final 90 seconds alone were worth the drive up from DC!


John Corigliano's Suite from The Red Violin (2007) was a fitting closer to a very fine concert. With Elizabeth Pitcairn reprising the soloist on the actual fabled "Red Violin" itself, the piece certainly has built up a powerful reputation. The program notes' description of the second movement as having "wild and colorful" textures with soft dynamics was a bit of an overstatement considering its reserved nature. It did, however, feature very idiomatic solo writing over top of fresh, densely-packed, quasi-tonal string harmonies.

Corigliano's acceptance of melody for melody's sake was featured throughout the composition, most notably in the third movement. The closing movement, though, is the most remarkable. The violin melody is of course prominent, but the real skill, as if often the case, lies in the background. "Fussy" string parts get us into the action as a flurry of soft, fast notes escape from a growing number of string parts. Minutes later, an impressive cadence channeling great violinists (and composers) of old at last comes to a close while those "fussy" string parts return and begin to die away. The accompaniment functions like a large-scale crescendo and decrescendo using texture and surface activity rather than dynamics. This movement probably appears graphically in the full score just like it sounds; white builds to black, holds steady, then tapers back to white and nothing. It's almost like Penderecki's Threnody, but with actual specific notes!


James Freeman, Artistic Director and Conductor of Ensemble 2001, did a superb job managing these four works. The orchestra was highly skilled and quite responsive to Freeman's baton, and, like much of the work they played, the result was an enviable mix of intelligent, moving music. If you missed this one, Orchestra 2001's next concert is September 25 and 27, 2009, in Philadelphia then Swarthmore, PA. Check out www.orchestra2001.org for more info.

Review: CUA Symphony Orchestra

Sorry for the lack of new music these two weeks. I've been attending music conferences and working on a piece I can't post online. Expect a post soon about technology and open source materials in the music theory classroom. In the meantime, enjoy this review!


CUA Symphony Orchestra
Wednesday, March 18, 2009
Hartke Theatre, The Catholic University of America

The CUA Symphony Orchestra gave an excellent concert on Wednesday of this week. A hesitant yet mostly satisfying Lincoln Portrait opened the evening. The narration was delivered in a simple and effective manner by CUA President Father David O'Connell, under the steady and able direction of David Searle. The more animated sections came off with suitable vigor and grandeur. As is the danger with many of Copland's rustic, “Americana”-flavored works, though, some of the sparse moments suffered from a notable lack of precision and confidence.

During excerpts from Mendelssohn's Midsummer Night's Dream, the CUA Women's Chorus displayed notable improvement in tone, blend and diction from their competent fall performance. Despite some obvious tuning issues in the beginning of the staccato second selection, the orchestra played well. Solo vocalists Diana Bryan and Ashley Alden certainly held their own as individual singers and also blended well together, particularly on various passages in thirds. Bryan displayed an especially sweet tone and great vocal control. Unfortunately, a dim spot on stage somewhat obscured Alden.

Thanks to the stellar soloist and a solid orchestral performance, Mendelssohn's Violin Concerto in e minor was the most moving work on the concert. The octave-doubling on rapid arpeggiated figures was just one example of Ji-Young Kim's beautiful marriage of passionate playing with technical facility. The beginning of the first lengthy cadenza came off as a bit raw when touching on the open strings. A flashy stream of trills, arpeggios and quick runs more than made up for this minor flaw, though.

The unbroken transition to the Andante movement was handled gracefully by Mr. Searle and the bassoonist. (Kim's soaring vibrato and fluid melodic figurations have inspired this writer, for one, to explore the sound of the movement on the theremin!) The undulating harmonic background figures on the soloist's lower strings, while impressive to the eye, seemed too cumbersome to have any real musical impact. These likely should have been confined to the orchestra, as they were throughout much of the movement. The third and final movement was a bit of a letdown, yet this was through no fault of the performers. From the bland opening motive to the hokey closing harmonies, this section strongly implied a fiery fourth movement that, unfortunately, never transpired.

The premiere of CUA composer Joseph Santo's Malachey Elyon was well executed and generally very well received. Dense yet subdued chromatic (microtonal?) cluster chords in the strings – vaguely reminiscent of Penderecki's Threnody – showed great promise. These sonorities were imitated effectively in the piano in its high and low registers, accompanied by temple blocks (a favorite color combination of many modern composers). Were the choir larger, this technique may have been explored even further to great effect.

Soloist Alexander Wolniak delivered his chant-like lines in a simple and lyrical tone that was perhaps the most effective aspect of the work. His diction was convincing and precise. Aside from some rather stilted whispering, the chorus also did a fine job adding to the texture. While rife with emotional weight, the recorded speeches lacked the cadential qualities and inherent musicality needed for a successful joining of music and spoken word. The form may have benefited from a more liberal cutting of the texts as well as musical material that more closely traced the emotional arc of the words. Overall, though, the work was as very well-crafted, well-rehearsed, and eminently fit for the occasion.

Led in no small part by a talented guest harpist, the CUA Orchestra closed its nearly two-and-one-half hour concert with Debussy's La Mer. Serving as the end of a genre-spanning concert, this work was satisfying and very well-prepared by Mr. Searle. The rich variety of textures kept the audience's attention, as did the technical acrobatics of a brave and oft-divided cello section. The lush harmonies also provided a nice contrast to the gestural and sectional nature Santo's piece that preceded it. This was certainly among the finest all-around concerts presented by the CUA Orchestra in recent memory, particularly in regard to the high quality of the performers as well as the interesting and well-rounded program selection.

Review: Bridgid Eversole DMA Vocal Recital at CUA

The thirty or so audience members clumped toward the back of the hall, as usual – a modest crowd, but not bad for a Wednesday evening. They were treated to an excellent and bold program of twentieth-century mostly-Spanish-language vocal music by Bridgid Eversole, DMA candidate in Vocal Performance at The Catholic University of America in Washington, DC.

Opening the evening was the first of three Villa-Lobos sets – the one-cello version of the fantastic Bachianas Brasileiras No. 5, Aria. Here, cellist Dee Curtis and Ms. Eversole were very well attuned to each other's performances, alternately matching then contrasting their individual lines with the care and musical intelligence so prized in chamber settings. Ms. Eversole took advantage of outer sections' lyrical writing to exhibit her exquisite control and tone, particularly throughout phrases in higher registers. This vocal control, on display throughout the evening, is truly a hallmark of her instrument.

The second Villa-Lobos work, his Suite for Voice and Violin, disguises some quite challenging vocal material using the sounds of folk music. Short, repetitive phrases, strummed pizzicato on the violin, and ample glissandi gave the work a charming and approachable sound, as the performers deftly navigated tricky passages without apparent concern. Violinist Kevin Jang was particularly emotive during the strummed pizzicato sections and managed to make the full pizzicato chords speak with surprising clarity.

In addition to her solid intonation, Ms. Eversole kept her sound spinning out and up and shaped the long, melissmatic vowel sounds – a soprano's favorite – with real grace. The third movement, Sertaneja, featured a nearly-nonsense lyric that took on a Dadaist performance art quality, which was sold effectively by the confidence of the performers.

This confidence and careful attention to vocal production and tone also carried through Villa-Lobos' late work Forest of the Amazon. Ms. Eversole again had no difficulty navigating her higher register with good support, and she remained impressively engaged during the extended piano section in the second song. There were a few moments – particularly near the end of the first song – in which sustained soft consonants (“m”, “n”, etc.) didn't maintain the same resonance or vitality as the rest of the line. Also, the vocal phrasing, so strong in the first two works, was regrettably rigid in the dance-like sections – the first of the evening's rare shortcomings.

The second half of the recital opened with Joaquin Rodrigo's Cantos de Amor y de Guerra, a 1969 work decidedly more typical of mid-twentieth-century dissonance. Florid vocal lines combined with deliciously “clustery” piano harmonies to charming effect. The virtuosic trills were handled with particular expertise. Ms. Eversole found new energy for this set, really engaging her face and body, which came through in a more animated tone. While a few hard consonants were perhaps unavoidably lost in the upper register of IV. Sobre Baza estaba el Rey, her diction was strong as a whole. Accompanist Nicholas Catravas did a superb job, particularly during this set, wringing colorful phrases out of the tightly-packed chord clusters.

The cute and playful flair of Joseph Canteloube's Chants D'Auvergne, Series 3, carried the concert to an uplifting close. Ms. Eversole seemed to genuinely enjoy singing this work. The insistent vitality, nonsense syllables, and quirky song endings kept her smirking and the audience engaged throughout. The sustained lines of Brezairola, a sweet and repetitive lullaby, posed the greatest challenge in terms of breath support; the sudden change from brisk, light motives to this more sustained production did prove tricky at times. The clever closing number ended the night with a dash of fun and panache, and a good serving of vocal dexterity and diction at that. If you missed her this Wednesday and still haven't yet had the pleasure of hearing Bridgid Eversole sing, it would be well worth your while to do so, and soon!

Review: Sweeney Todd at CUA

Nearly a full month late, but here it is - my very belated but lovingly crafted review of CUA's Fall musical, Sweeney Todd by Stephen Sondheim.

October 18, 2008 - Catholic University of America, Ward Hall, Washington, D.C.

The selection of Sweeney Todd for the performance season, even for a university such as CUA with a strong musical theater program, is bold, ambitious, and even risky as an artistic endeavor. The demands placed on the voices, instrumental ensemble, staging, and overall directing vision are immense. Understanding this, it was with a spirit of cautious optimism that I crammed into the already-packed Ward Recital Hall to experience Sweeney Todd as performed at CUA. Happily, I was surprised, moved, and greatly impressed with the end result.

Many congratulations and kudos first of all must go to Gabe Mangiante, music director and keyboardist extraordinaire, for managing to coax such a full, tight, professional sound out of a relatively young cast. The rhythmic, harmonic, and orchestrational complexities of the score present a formidable challenge, which Mr. Mangiante negotiated with great skill. The entire pit responded with appropriate severity, power, and tenderness under the baton of assistant conductor Randall Stewart. Director Jane Pesci-Townsend's first-hand experience with the show (she filled in as Mrs. Lovett at a 2002 Kennedy Center performance of Sweeney), combined with her years of performance and directing experience, certainly prepared her to shape a dramatic work of fittingly stark visuals and powerful staging.

It may seem obvious to say that the two stand-outs of the show were the male and female leads, Sweeney Todd and Mrs. Lovett, but, in this case even more so than usual, these main characters truly delivered fantastic performances that commanded the audience's attention at every moment. Phil Cooke's Sweeney was, as particular moments required, vicious, tender, psychotic, furious, and clever, all the while maintaining a remarkably coherent character and dramatic through line. He negotiated the thick, deep, agitated vocal line with unexpected maturity, never forcing any of the multitude of lower passages into an uncomfortable vocal production. An overabundance of praise is hardly possible in describing his work on this role. Danielle Kerlin displayed an even more polished yet eminently fitting character voice as Mrs. Lovett. Although she seemed at times to trace too closely the original Angela Lansbury interpretation in her vocal stylings, Kerlin really drew the audience into the zany yet desperate and tender emotional world of her character.

The Beggar Woman is a small but crucial role in the musical, requiring a voice that is strong and high yet flexible. Danielle Larmett exhibited all this and more, providing the emotional culmination by which the already dark and oppressive emotional arc of this drama finally tears apart at the seams. She should be most proud of this performance, as both her singing and her acting were truly of professional caliber. As her voice and acting skills continue to mature, she is sure to continue to impress audiences wherever she takes the stage.

Christine Menna's Johanna was certainly a suitably lovely singing voice – the main purpose of her character, after all. Her “Green Finch” song was graceful and satisfying, if not as vocally impressive as a richer and more ornate version could have been. Her character came across as somewhat two-dimensional at times, although this is more a result of the script itself than her shortcomings. Gannon O'Brien delivered a healthy and youthful Anthony. The warmth of his tone was a welcome contrast to the harsh timbre of much of the rest of the music, although he could have done more to shape the sustained lines of “Johanna”, particularly through bolder dynamic contrast, stronger diction, and a richer vibrato at the ends of his held notes. More years and more practice will no doubt help assist in these aspects.

Signor Pirelli is meant to steal the show, at least for the one scene in which he is the show, literally. CUA could not have asked for a more suitable performer for this role than Patrick Guetti. Equally effective in comic opera and traditional musical theater roles, Guetti is no stranger to taking the quirky, flamboyant odd-ball role. The silliness of his music, however, should not cause one to overlook the real skill required to capture the vocal and physical essence of such a character. Along with others already mentioned in this impressive cast, Patrick Guetti is certainly a performer to watch out for in the next few years.

Review: Great Noise Ensemble 9/19/2008 - Darkness in No Man's Land

Great Noise Ensemble Season Four: Icons Old and New
Concert #1: Darkness in No Man's Land
September 19, 2008 - Catholic University of America, Ward Hall, Washington, D.C.

The Great Noise Ensemble filled The Catholic University of America's Ward Hall with a choice sampling of exciting and diverse music on September 19. Although not without its liabilities and holes, GNE's season-opening concert was a thoroughly entertaining, engaging, varied, adventurous, and challenging evening of contemporary music. (True, Rzewski's early-70's works aren't exactly recent, but they, without question, rightfully claim the prime finale spot of this concert.)

Thick Skin, Ryan Brown
The attractively off-kilter funky jam session of Ryan Brown's Thick Skin was the ideal opening groove to grab the audience's attention. As numerous student composers in their 20's sat cheerfully beating out a 7/4 pattern in the audience, the group harnessed that jazz ensemble tradition of a loose, free feeling made up of super-tight ensemble licks. For its length, though, this first movement could have used more return of familiar material before its sudden end.

The fantastic 5 vs. 4 riff between the electric and bass guitars was a nice set up to the lyrical bassoon line that bore a somewhat curious resemblance to Thom Yorke's voice – only huskier. Balance was an issue in this second movement in particular, with very quiet auxiliary experimental percussion (clothes hangers, etc.) overpowered by electric guitar and ride cymbal. Hopefully the studio recording, if there is one, can clean that up.

The final movement continued the relentless barrage of happily infectious grooves, this time featuring the bassoon and guitar. The bassoon's fingering looked incredibly awkward, but the wide jumps of range were navigated with surprising fluency. Also, this is probably a happy accident, but the use of the side of the snare drum was a welcome relief in this echo-prone brick space. The recurring bVI, VII, I progression (Db-Eb-F, or thereabouts) toward the end brought a bit of a rock/soul flavor reminiscent of the Blues Brothers. In all, this work was enough to make the classical-only crowd wish they were more versed in contemporary jazz/art rock. In contrast to the following piece, the program notes for Thick Skin didn't mention the music itself at all, but gave a nice insight into the composer's motivation.

Three Nocturnes, James Leatherbarrow
James Leatherbarrow's Three Nocturnes for tuba and piano presented an ambitious, adventurous piece filled with interesting effects and expressive potential, but ultimately lacking in development and long-term musical interest. The many non-traditional (though now common) composerly effects seemed to be the main focus throughout the three movements. Tuba multiphonics formed a nice timbral counterpoint to low piano tremolos. The tuba's playing into the open piano lid presented a partially-exploited opportunity to explore the instruments' combined resonance, but a more compelling musical statement was needed to compensate for this physically awkward gesture.

The opening to the second movement featured a Bartokian rhythmic energy interrupted by dramatic sweeps in the piano. The concept of an incomplete or unformed tuba melody used here has potential, but this version was entirely unsatisfying, like setting up an audience expectation and never fulfilling it.

Noticeable intonation issues plagued the slow final movement especially, which is unfortunate because previous GNE audiences have heard Mr. Goins play much better. Throughout the piece, the tuba lost much of its beauty when approaching louder dynamics. Some diatonic/pentatonic clusters brought the work to a slow, unsatisfying ending.

Frankly, the program notes to Three Nocturnes were more compelling than the music itself. This work provided a good lesson for the many student composers in the audience that night: that the success of a piece of music can't rest on special effects and a compelling program alone.

On a positive note, the interesting musical material was plentiful and the sound-world was well established. But, as in a sketch draft, the composing out of those musical ideas seemed under-developed. It was as though the very existence of non-traditional sounds (by now rather commonplace in GNE concerts, actually) and a rich narrative backstory were considered enough to carry the piece. The truth of this statement, however, is a judgment I leave up to the audience.

Grab It!, Jacob TV
Presented without its video component, JacobTV's Grab It! is under ten years old, intriguing, and dripping with Reich-like inventiveness (it has the flair of a twenty-first century It's Gonna Rain). The work is in some regards simply a saxophone transcription of text itself, which is the work's primary shortcoming, but its performance by Matt Taylor showed real edge and skill. I heartily agree with the composer that the sax was a great timbral choice to accompany the recording.

This piece would really benefit from another revision that includes some contrapuntal texture in the sax to break up the feel of a literal transcription, and to allow for more intelligibility of the text. The house's unforgiving high wood ceiling and brick walls surely didn't help matters, but even so, the text was consistently covered by the live performer.

Since the intelligible portions of text were limited to a few choice expletives and the words “You lose everything,” the piece never ultimately transcended the world of great ideas yet to be realized. A simple change of texture in a few select areas would largely solve this single significant problem. This “simple change,” however, might involve undoing the composer's overall artistic goals for the piece.

Coming Together and Attica, Frederic Rzewski
Frederic Rzewski's Coming Together and Attica both deal with the story of upstate New York's Attica Prison riot of 1971, leading to the deaths of nine guards and twenty-eight inmates. The tragic loss of an obviously intelligent individual – Sam Melville, the author of the texts – provides a specific up-close picture of the events set musically to great effect.

The texts are spoken in cyclic patterns, adding new phrases or words on each go-around. These two process pieces originally call for ensemble improvisation on a given monophonic line (a bass line and an evolving melody, respectively). Due to some truly masterful orchestrating by conductor Armando Bayolo, these non-improvised versions demonstrate a real sense of direction and sensitivity to the texts – so much so that these particular arrangements seem as much a part of the compositions as the original music and texts themselves. A particularly effective moment came in Attica when the ensemble smartly gets out of the way of the guitar, a gorgeous but quiet instrument too often covered up by only a few others. This pair of orchestrations alone is certainly an accomplishment at least on par with the rest of the compositions on the concert.

In contrast to JacobTV's Grab It!, the musical components to Rzewski's works truly complement and support the delivery of the text, rather than slavishly following their every inflection. The music is not a setting of, but rather a reflection on the texts. Freed from a literal musical transcription, the cyclical text format creates a dramatic intensity and heightened focus as each new phrase approaches. Rather than becoming tedious, the textual repetitions only serve to remind the listener where she/he has been. Also, richer orchestrations were exploited well during repeated texts, helping balance the roles of word and music.

Whereas Coming Together utilizes a rather lengthy paragraph (or a brief essay) full of text, Attica is comprised entirely of the phrase “Attica is in front of me”. As in Coming Together, the words are revealed slowly, almost as if they are being pondered and written down in real time with the music. This is especially moving once the listener realizes, at least a good 60-90 seconds beforehand, that the end of the phrase will eventually be “Attica... is... in... front... of... me.” That word “me,” then, is imbued with a magnified dramatic importance as both the musical and textual climax of the work.

I was somehow unperturbed by the fact that this pair of works – and the entire concert as a whole – ended on a comparatively down-tempo piece. I have already argued that this was one limitation of the Leatherbarrow work heard earlier in the evening, but somehow the same musical tactic aroused in me a very different result. My only defense is to say that the emotional impact of these final two works by Rzewski succeeded in carrying me to a place at which this subdued ending seemed not only appropriate but indispensable.

Summary
The composers, performers, conductor, behind-the-scenes facilitators, and audience members combine to ignite an energy that is a rare and welcome relief to the typical well-starched concert-going experience. Of course, what stirs one listener's mind and soul may simply leave another flat, and GNE's variety of programing will inherently illicit responses of each category in every performance. (What do you get when you cross a chamber concerto, a passion oratorio, and a mandolin/soda can duo? I don't know, but someone is sure to disapprove.) But I along with most contemporary music fans will take this “hit-hit-hit-hit-and-miss” effort over safe, sanitary, familiar programing any day. Kudos to the Great Noise Ensemble for another successful concert!

Review: Great Noise Ensemble at National Gallery

The Great Noise Ensemble is among the most exciting and ambitious new music ensembles in Washington, D.C. Their May 18 concert at the National Gallery of Art marked a strong finish to their third season.

Things started off with Barbara White's quirky and cute Learning to See. While most of the score garnered some level of interest, there were moments of real shimmer, like the bowed vibraphone tones that morphed into held tones of other instruments. Such orchestrational touches are always a welcome sign of a composer who has put some real thought into the details of her/his music.

Rothko-Tobery Continuum by Evan Chambers offered a sincere approach to electro-acoustic music, showing a solid sense of balance in content between its electronic and acoustic forces. Violinist Heather Figi played the largely tonal violin part with a healthy Romantic flair, while the speaker contributed a surprisingly varied and expressive synthesized orchestral sound (for work generated in 1992!). The beautiful marriage of content, however, was marred slightly by a too-quiet speaker.

Andrew Rudin was programed on Great Noise's first public concert back in 2006, and this success earned him another performance - this time of a work written specifically for Great Noise, his Concerto for Piano and Small Orchestra. Rudin's mature writing was immediately evident in the length of his musical "chunks," presenting material for about 2-3 minutes before contrasting or drastically developing his thoughts. He seemed always to ride slightly ahead of my critiques. Just as I started to feel that he needed to increase the harmonic interest, he threw in a deliciously dissonant, emotive, pianistic cadenza. Just as the rhythms of the ensemble-driven second movement were in danger of becoming too ingrained, his music winked with some coy quintuplets and other variations.

Not afraid to please the listener, Rudin used rich tertian harmonies and frequent major sevenths that would mingle well with jazz and early twentieth-century sound worlds, as would the flashes of irregular meter and non-functional harmonies. The self-described "jovial" and "tongue-in-cheek" third movement brought virtuosic pianist Marcantonio Barone to the forefront again. A driving pulse was passed among various sections, leading to an impressive, muscular final cadenza and a brief, powerful whack of an ending. I would certainly pay to hear this work again.

A quick note on concert etiquette: do not change seats, snore, shuffle around, leave the room, or - worst of all - hold audible discussions during a live performance. That is all. (I hope the concert recording is salvageable.)

Low, dark colors were explored in a quintet by Great Noise tuba player Blair Goins. The bassoon and cello lent the piece a deep sound that only occasionally overpowered the violin, clarinet, and flute. The busy texture and prevalence of tertian planing made the listening experience refreshingly light and natural. Goins certainly showed an experienced sense of ensemble interplay as solos and duets were carefully balanced with full-ensemble sections. The textures of the first two movements, however, were a tad too similar to hold interest. The individual voices of the third movement were handled very well and complimented each other nicely, particularly the interesting accompanimental pairing of cello and low-range clarinet.

Great Noise director Armando Bayolo's Chamber Symhpony ("Illusory Airs") closed out the concert on a high note. The piece's largely sectional form, featuring somewhat abrupt alternations of dissimilar material, allowed Bayolo to extend his musical thoughts throughout entire coherent movements without falling into predictable patterns. The dark four-note opening theme formed an effective musical landmark that held sway even through to its return in the third movement.

Textural variety abounded through plodding quarter notes, intense rhythmic activity, and high , rapid figurations reminiscent of early Stravinsky. Use of the "rhythm section" in the second movement (piano, guitar and percussion) was timed expertly, with hits placed close enough to keep the listener's attention but far enough apart to avoid becoming tiresome. Bayolo demonstrated his careful ear for ensemble balance, especially in subdued moments with the guitar - a notoriously quiet instrument.

The work's final movement chugged along aggressively for a short while in irregular meters, followed by another drastic texture change. Most of the ensemble dropped out while the steady sixteenth-note pulse continued to lay a foundation for solo melodies. While much of the third movement was sufficiently intense to earn its place in a closing movement, Bayolo craftily conserved enough power for the closing to deliver a real kick. This final build-up truly gave the audience what it was waiting for - an exciting and almost optimistic rhythmic drive that lured the ear in, leading up to the moment in which the dark melodic fragment from the first movement mingled with and overpowered the existing brighter texture, producing that odd sense of "tense joy" so clearly explained in Bayolo's conception of the piece. The psychological fulfillment of such a nebulous, subjective goal through purely musical means was truly an impressive feat and a sign of both an experienced and exciting composer and a skilled, dedicated, tight ensemble.

Be on the lookout for future performances of Armando Bayolo's Chamber Symphony. This composition, like the ensemble that brought it into life, truly delivers on its ambitious promises.

Romeo and Juliet at Synetic

Go see this show if you can find a way. Online tickets are no longer available, and the final two performances are this Friday and Saturday, so call the box office now!

Their wordless adaptation of Romeo and Juliet is powerful, fierce, touching, and all-around impressive. This is one of the best shows I have ever seen. $20 for students. That is all for now.


Information is below...

Tickets: $35 for Friday and Saturday, $30 for Thursday and Sunday, $5 off for seniors (65+) and $20 for students for Friday and Saturday, $15 for students for Thursday and Sunday. $40 for performance and reception on February 14th, Valentine's Day.

For tickets, order online or call the box-office at 703-824-8060.

The Rosslyn Spectrum is located at 1611 N. Kent Street, Arlington VA, 22209. (4 blocks from the Rosslyn Metro.)

Review: Our Town (opera by Rorem) at CUA

As I mentioned in my previous post (see below), Catholic University of America's 2008 President's Festival of the Arts was held last week and culminated in productions of both Thornton Wilder's play Our Town and Ned Rorem's opera of the same name.

Rorem's operatic setting, with libretto by J.D. McClatchy, has really gotten me thinking. It's so interesting, in fact, that I will save my review of the opera itself for another separate post, to be written in the next few days. Before that, here is a full review of this specific CUA performance...

Director James Hampton is to be commended for his use of lines and texture on stage. The sparse, linear approach to the opening and closing scenes formed an effective bookend for the drama, and the blocking was as natural as most any other opera I've seen. Unfortunately, the Saturday evening performance also experienced a number of technical problems including the curtain catching twice on scenery, some running crew confusion, and a projection screen that was consistently lowered too far.

Conductor Murry Sidlin successfully led a well-rehearsed and talented orchestra through this relatively new score. The ensemble played as one and at a consistently appropriate level - always a challenge when not playing in a pit. Trumpet player Michael Mergen was particularly notable for his warm tone.

The prize for most notes sung certainly goes to Eric Gramatges, who sang with power and ease as the Stage Manager. His is a perfect example of a character who sings a lot of lyrical, beautiful, instantly-forgettable phrases. If only the Stage Manager had one or two well-defined, stand-alone arias, every lyric tenor in the country would jump at the chance to sing this role.

While the Stage Manager certainly sings the most notes in the opera, Emily Gibbs is the real lead character, due largely to her impressive and powerful "arias" (kind of) in the third act. Soprano Diana Bryan sang this role with impressive agility, tone, and character. John Murray (George Gibbs) offered a lighter, more fitting timbre for his youthful character; he matched Bryan in his energy and dramatic timing, but sounded somewhat strained that evening.

Damain Savarino and Bridgid Eversole demonstrated such fine singing and acting as Dr. and Mrs. Gibbs that one wishes Rorem could expand their roles. Eversole sang with her usual free and beautiful tone, while Savarino's rich, sonorous bass-baritone voice was the surprise of the evening for audience members who, like me, missed him in Elixir last year.

The team at CUA gave a quality DC premiere of this new and exciting opera. The voices and instruments made good music sound great. The dramatic effect on stage, however, was less than the original.

But that... is the the subject of another review.


Now that you've suffered through me, check out Cecelia Porter's Washington Post review of CUA's production of the opera.

Review: Our Town (play by Wilder) at CUA

Two (belated) reviews at the same time? Lucky you!

Last week marked the 2008 President's Festival of the Arts at The Catholic University of America. This week-long series featured film screenings, lectures, and musical performances, culminating in productions of both Thornton Wilder's classic play Our Town and the DC premiere of the opera Our Town by Ned Rorem.

The two productions - the play and the opera - had much in common. They shared essentially the same set, scenes, and script (though necessarily abridged and revised for the opera). Yet the purely dramatic and emotional impact of the two versions did not match up so neatly. (See next post, coming soon.)

The play, directed by Mary Hall Surface, was one very fine production among many others worldwide this year. If it seemed a bit more campy than most (or, as campy as Wilder can be), this is likely because it was presented by CUA's musical theater department rather than the drama department.

Sarah Beth Pfeifer was engaging and believable as the stage manager, who carries a large share of the lines. Emily Woodhouse and Matthew Wojtal made an endearing and lovable couple as Emily and George Gibbs, even if their deliveries were a tad too conscious of the play's "old-time" feel.

Editor Webb, played by Peter Camp, gave a strong supporting performance. Colleen Connor nearly stole the wedding scene as a sobbing, vociferous Mrs. Soames. This choice brought a powerful contrast to the more subdued character of the third act, but it could have detracted from a less colorful production.

This staging of Our Town provides yet more evidence that the musical theater department at Catholic this year is active and robust as always. The production also served as an excellent introduction/refresher for (and comparison with) its operatic counterpart. (see next post, above)

Review: Sweeney Todd (movie)

I saw Tim Burton's Sweeney Todd over the Christmas Break, and I regret that I'm only now getting around to reviewing it. If you have not seen this, drop everything you're doing (including reading this post), and go see it. I'll wait. (some spoilers)

Okay, now that we're all on the same page...

This film marks the intersection of three masterful artists in their respective fields: composer Stephen Sondheim, director Tim Burton, and actor Johnny Depp.

Everything Tim Burton touches is magic. I am neither a movie critic nor a movie connoisseur, but I have loved every Burton film I have seen. With Sweeney, he performs precisely the necessary transformations to lure in the typical movie-goer while remaining quite faithful to the original score. All the characters sing well (though not spectacularly), and the songs not suitable for this cast are cut logically and seamlessly.

While largely respectful to Sondheim's work, this movie's target audience is, unsurprisingly, movie-goers. Fans of musical theater may be quite let down by the sufficient but unremarkable singing of an entire cast of actors-who-sing (not the other way around), especially in comparison to the outstanding roles created by the overpowering Angela Lansbury and distinctive Len Cariou. These nostalgic listeners must settle for the 1982 musical film version with Lansbury. This movie, however, was intended to provide what modern films do best: spectacle and emotion, and in that, it certainly delivers.

The cinematography beautifully reflects the complex emotions conjured by the score: the frantic darting through dirty London streets, the odd juxtaposition of the dark "family" enjoying a too-sunny day at the beach, and who can forget the horrific yet comical dropping (and landing) of all those bodies? Thud! Repeat.

Beautiful.

Like most young women in America, I drool over Johnny Depp. Unlike most young women in America, mine is an intellectual, artistic man-drool, as opposed to the more common physical-sexual (and at times literal) variety. From his classically dark Edward Scissorhands, to his strung-out Raoul Duke (Fear and Loathing), to his just plain cartoonish-creepy Willy Wonka, Depp is perhaps the most versatile and fascinating actor working today.

And Depp's Sweeney is certainly drool-worthy. While few could rival the impassioned vocal growlings of the original Mr. Todd, Len Cariou, Depp's serious introspection and smoldering rage are his forte. His acting is a skilled actor's equivalent to a skilled singer's vocals. I will concede what many colleagues have argued recently: Depp's voice is more light Brit-pop than Broadway, but this comment says more about the audience's expectations (my own included) than about his performance.

Helena Bonham Carter played a cool, coy, wicked Mrs. Lovett. I don't know about you, but I would certainly find it difficult to sustain her aloofness whilst baking human-meat pies. (Believe me, I've tried.) This go-with-the-flow attitude contrasted beautifully with the calculating intensity of Depp. Her aloofness, however, pervades her singing as well, and her vocals are the weakest of the show. Of course, the power of Angela Lansbury's voice and presence in the Broadway cast would be overwhelming for most anyone trying to play the role, and perhaps even for the average movie audience member to hear. If cast alongside Depp in this production, Lansbury, even in her twenties, would have stolen the show with her Broadway presence - and not in a good way.

In truth I was actually dreading only one scene: Mrs. Lovett's idealistic "By the Sea." This light, tuneful ditty straight out of the 50's (or is it the 30's?) always struck me as the weakest of the musical. At best it was a feigned attempt to provide a necessary relief of tension. Through Burton's direction and a masterful stroke of color and light on the part of the costume and lighting designers, though, this scene was at the same time refreshing, tragic, and hilarious. From the moment this "happy family" is placed in such a brilliant and beautiful scene, it becomes obvious that, despite Mrs. Lovett's best attempts and dreams, this story can only end in darkness.

Chilling, isn't it? Further evidence that this movie version is not about the music - not entirely, anyway. Overall, I give the music a 6 out of 10. The acting, directing, and spectacle, however, are right on, and deserve a 9.5 out of 10. Assuming, of course, that you first shed your squeamishness and certain expectations about musical theater.

Until next time... keep your enemies close, and your barber very, very far away!


Caveat: this was the "short version" of my review, which was originally 2-3 times longer. If you want more opinions or an argument, comment specifically, and I will be happy to provide.

Review: Evita at CUA (performance review)

Work: Evita, a musical by Andrew Lloyd Webber and Tim Rice
Ensemble: The Catholic University of America
When: Saturday, October 27, 2007, 8PM
Where: Hartke Theater Mainstage, CUA, Washington, DC

The story of The Catholic University of America's production of Evita last Saturday was one of turning a classic Webber hit - with its few outstanding faults - into an enjoyable evening with some moments of magic.

Junior Amanda Roberts delivered a most convincing Evita, depicting this (in)famous character in Argentine history as sly and headstrong. Roberts's voice was equally well-suited to the belting nature of "Rainbow High" as to the warm, sweet quality demanded by the show's most recognizable piece, "Don't Cry for Me, Argentina." She was consistent in her stage presence and vocal production the entire evening, playing very well off both co-stars Andrew Halpin and Donald Codden. While never quite achieving the superstar quality of the historical Evita herself, Roberts displayed an emotional versatility and strength that is certain to serve her well in future roles.

The story's narrator, Ché (sophomore Andrew Halpin), carried much of the show with energy and a clear sense of the dramatic shape of his recitative-like phrases. Halpin performed with a confidence that seemed to encourage the rest of the cast, particularly in his spirited "High Flying, Adored." The quick transitions between musical theater and rock styles of vocal production gave him no trouble at all, although a few of his rock style lines sounded uncomfortably forced. Halpin's final few lines fell flat as the ending of the show, but the task of trying to make up for this authors' error must fall with the director, not the actors. Largely due to the writers devising a plot line with no clear signal of finality, this was, in all honesty, perhaps the least emotionally and artistically satisfying ending I have ever experienced in a theater.

Donald Codden seemed the most vocally comfortable and physically grounded cast member on stage, and both his acting and singing as Perón came across as entirely natural. Though it is not exactly a typical Andrew Lloyd Webber show-stopper like "Don't Cry for Me, Argentina," Codden's lyric performance of "She Is a Diamond" was easily one of the vocal highlights of the night.

Channeling a bit of Tom Jones for the night, Senior Christopher Mueller carried the role of Magaldi with plenty of glitz, swagger, and bravado to capture his receptive audience. The liberties he took with the tempi were generally appropriate, though these rubato phrases did become predictably regular as "On This Night of a Thousand Stars" progressed. The high note (a B, I'm guessing?) in his reprise at the charity concert, however, soared impressively.

At first, the ballad "Another Suitcase in Another Hall," sung by Perón's Mistress (junior Kristiana Jarquin-Moreland) felt entirely out of place in the show; indeed, it appears to have been inserted in the process of revising the work, and likely should have been moved or left out entirely. Thankfully, Jarquin-Moreland overcame this shortcoming of plot with her lyrical and expressive singing. By the time one stanza of Rice's lyrics had passed, most of the audience was moved and had overlooked her song's lack of dramatic necessity.

The chorus was used effectively, within an appropriately loud and raucous presence in the Act I closer, "A New Argentina," and a more subdued role in the requiem and "Santa Evita." The entire ensemble generally moved very well in the production - a credit to director Jane Pesci-Townsend, who never let the chorus remain static for too long yet also didn't allow their movements to distract from the action. The "musical chairs" ensemble segment was staged with a cute simplicity that contrasted the rigid military climate delightfully. CUA alumnus Miguel Jarquin-Moreland provided suitable choreography, with an especially insightful moment when Evita sings in her back while elevated by the chorus, echoing the physical layout of her funeral procession at the top of Act I. (Of course, this particular blocking may have been designed by Ms. Pesci-Townsend.)

Music director and conductor Denise Puricelli is to be commended for taming the jumpy, occasionally irregular music - along with her able pit band - into a solid performance that hit every cue. The only notable fault in her performance was her somewhat timid bows at the end, as she certainly earned every second of applause and then some.

Review: Evita the Musical

Tonight (Saturday, 10/27) I saw Andrew Lloyd Webber's Evita for the first time at CUA. While my future reviews will hopefully be longer, more in-depth, and more coherent, here is my first (late-night) attempt.

Note: I am reviewing the writing of the show itself, and not the performers for this particular show, unless otherwise noted.

The best aspect of this piece is that Evita herself comes across as one of those rare characters that successfully pull off an ambiguous character. She is honorable, admirable, and "of the people," but at the same time she is manipulative, materialistic, and at times selfish. This sort of ambiguous character is difficult to create, and difficult to become emotionally attached to; however, I am even more attracted to this type of character than the typical "good guy" lead (Curly) or the strangely fascinating "bad guy" (Sweeney Todd). Both Judas from J.C. Superstar and The Phantom are other great examples of Webber's sensitivity to an audience's desire for such richly developed characters. At times, though, I find myself wishing that his musical ideas would embrace that same bold, category-defying spirit.

I was most intrigued by the use of a "recitative-like" method for dialouge in this piece. Largely because of the tight transitions between sections, Evita represents one of the more successful approaches to a through-composed musical. Unfortunately, while Webber has an undeniable talent for spinning out memorable, tuneful "set piece" songs, his drawn-out melodies and very regular phrases break the first rule of successful recitative: set it clearly, and get it over with! I certainly sympathize, as my own efforts of recitative have also tended to run much longer than necessary. I believe this musical would be greatly improved, particularly in terms of pacing and structure, if the dialogue sections took an average of 50-70% of its current length. The same lyrics could still be set, but simply more quickly.

For a final note, the ending - there is none! Evita dies, Che says a few hurried phrases about her burial, and then... nothing. I realize that not every show needs to end with a large-scale ensemble number, but I do believe that they need a very specific, intentional ending, be it positive, negative, or ambiguous. Evita, on the other hand, ends with a small fragment of lines, which typically function as plot-driving, "throw-away" musical material in the rest of the piece. As this dialogue/recitative is not Webber's forte in the first place, it results in a sloppy, unsatisfying ending.

Overall, seeing Evita was a positive experience if only to say that I have now experienced it. It certainly has its shortcomings in my view, though, which can be just as instructive for developing composers as extremely effective works.