CD Review: Romanza--Works for Trumpet, Corno da Caccia, Bassoon and Orchestra

In a new release from MSR Classics, Nicholas McGegan conducts the Toronto Chamber Orchestra and soloists Guy Few (trumpet, corno da caccia) and Nadina Mackie Jackson (bassoon) in works by Hummel, von Weber, and Ignaz Lachner (1807-1895.)

The opening of the Hummel Trumpet Concerto in E-flat Major seems merely concise and professional: virtuoso Guy Few plays in a mellifluous legato, but if one is looking for a radical new interpretation of this old chestnut, this CD is not the place to find it. Instead there is a well-polished gem that should please those familiar with the work but offer no brand-new insights. The Andante, however, is particularly luscious and lingers in the senses like the memory of a gourmet meal long after it has been consumed.

Hummel's Grand Concerto for Bassoon and Orchestra in F Major delivers all the excitement and freshness one could hope for. Jackson's chops are fantastic, and the occasionally audible click-clacking of keys adds a delightful verisimilitude to the recording. Her playing can be described as nothing short of saucy and supremely confident; those who love the bassoon would be hard-pressed to find more liquidity and precision of articulation. Jackson removes all doubts as to the bassoon being a born solo instrument: the Romanza contains the most delicious, heart-achingly sincere bassoon cadenza I’ve ever heard.

In a unique offering, the two virtuosi pair up for Lachner's Concertino in E-flat Major for Corno, Bassoon and Orchestra (Op. 43). This work, sometimes nobly Beethovenian in character and other times reminiscent of a Rossini overture, presents a canvas that allows the masterful concertino free reign; their lightning-quick parallel runs are breathtakingly exact. To McGegan's credit, the maestro's fingerprint is nowhere too distinct—the immensely capable soloists constantly shine through the even texture.

The CD ends with a short Andante and Hungarian Rondo for Bassoon and Orchestra (Op. 35) by von Weber. Everyone seems to expect nothing but the best from McGegan, and thanks to the wonderful soloists this recording certainly lives up to that standard.

Crossposted at NW Reverb.

Review: Seattle Opera presents Britten's 'A Midsummer Night's Dream'

Rozarii Lynch photo

The Seattle Opera presented Benjamin Britten’s A Midsummer Night’s Dream on Saturday, March 28th at the Meydenbauer Center Theatre in Bellevue, WA. Directed by Peter Kazaras, this was a presentation of SO’s Young Artists Program. The emerging singers responded ably to the challenges inherent in Britten’s work, even if on occasion the acting and other aspects of the overall production fell somewhat short of the mark.

The setting was a classroom in a British school, a somewhat vague and visually uninteresting backdrop. Two large white walls with some doors and windows bookended a few pieces of furniture, and aside from a platform at the back of the stage this was the sum of the set. The costumes proved by and large pedestrian as well, the most interesting ones being Helena’s bright blue dress and the ass-head worn by Nick Bottom. A feast for the eyes it certainly was not, and this proved disappointing in that Shakespeare’s work is a fantasy and therefore presents a much greater opportunity for whimsy. Drab school uniforms and khaki suits are somehow out of place in a story about the king and queen of the fairies. Connie Yun’s lighting was imaginative: whether immersing the audience in the soft blues of twilight or simulating the glorious brilliance of an early summer morning exploding through the windows, the lighting took on greater significance in alleviating the monotony of the set.

It seemed to take a while for the principals to warm up to their roles. While the singing was nuanced and thoughtfully delivered from the start, the acting was sometimes stilted and wooden, with the exceptions of Michelle Trovato’s Helena and the merry band of players presenting the ‘play within a play.’ Perhaps this was a result of having to concentrate on the harmonic and rhythmic difficulties of the music. Whatever the reason, about halfway through the second act the facial expressions, interactions, and blocking took on new life, as though the singers suddenly became more comfortable with the non-musical aspects of the production.

Brian Garman’s orchestra played well: always together and very balanced both with each other and with the singers, not easy tasks in challenging music such as this. Soprano Emily Hindrich’s Tytania was languorous, sensual and a bit mysterious: very befitting a fairy queen. She has a powerful voice that tended to dominate too much in the duets with Oberon, sung by countertenor Anthony Roth Costanzo. It would have been easy for Britten to make Oberon a booming baritone (but he didn’t,) and once the ball was rolling Costanzo managed to project an aura of power and vague menace when necessary despite singing in the upper reaches of the male voice. The scene wherein Oberon and Tytania are reconciled and engage in a stately Elizabethan dance was particularly arresting.

Michelle Trovato’s Helena was spot-on and engaging from the start; she was consistently the most animated and interesting of the main characters. Baritone Michael Krzankowski as Demetrius was also warm and persuasive in the latter portion, and there was a gentle, unforced effervescence to his singing. Although they sang well enough, I was never entirely convinced by tenor Bray Wilkins’ Lysander or mezzo Elizabeth Pojanowski’s Hermia.

The group of working men putting on a play about Pyramus and Thisby deserves special mention. To be the comic relief in an otherwise comic production presents a special challenge, and they achieved this without devolving overmuch into slapstick (although it was used to good effect on occasion.) Baritone Jeffrey Madison, who sang the role of Nick Bottom (and the ass) really stole the show, not only with a beautiful, redolent baritone, ringing even at the lowest registers, but also with his fearless bombast and excellent comedic timing. Also worth noting is tenor Alex Mansoori, whose role as Flute (and in drag as Thisby) was warm and charming. While Madison was the principal in this second group, all of the singers portraying the workmen seemed to understand their roles, and delivered with gusto. Puck was a non-singing role, and actor David S. Hogan, über-hip and sporting a faux-hawk, did his job well. With oddly hypnotic physicality and over-the-top impishness, he was a good fellow to play Robin.

Despite some flaws this was a very enjoyable evening, and those who love Shakespeare, Britten or comic opera in general should find it well worth the time. This performance will repeat at the same location on March 29th (matinee) and April 3rd through 5th.


Crossposted at NW Reverb.

Guest Review: Mozart Requiem

For those who sought an evening of mind-blowing music played by a group of masterful musicians, the Portland Symphonic Choir’s rendition of Mozart’s Requiem was certainly the answer this past Friday.

While Requiem’s composition and history continue to be shrouded in mystery and controversy, its brilliance was able to shine on this night thanks to Mozart’s creative genius, Robert Levin’s complementary finishing touches and the PSC’s faithful vision and flawless execution.

Throughout the piece’s fourteen movements and fifty-six minute duration, one hundred and twenty-four voices and forty-six instrumentalists took delighted listeners on a non-stop musical thrill ride. Specifically, this ride featured an equal share of smooth and serene moments along with fast and furious ones and truly was a magical experience for anyone who had the privilege to listen. In addition to Requiem, the group showcased a breathtaking rendition of Kyrie in D minor.

Anyone who wants to witness the PSC’s musical prowess once again or for the first time can do at St. Mary’s Cathedral on NW 18th and Davis on Saturday, May 16 at 7:30 P.M. or Sunday, May 17 at 2:30 P.M. when it plays Sergei Rachmaninov’s Vespers.


Eric Johnson

Singing Mozart's Requiem: Impressions from the Choir Loft

I have long wanted to sing Mozart's Requiem. I became familiar with this work (as I suspect did many, many other people) through the delightful, grossly inaccurate film Amadeus. For me this was years ago as a teenager. Having grown up playing the piano, I had always loved Mozart, but I was in the incipient stages of discovering his great symphonic works when I watched this film. The scene where the dying Wolfy dictates his music to Salieri, and the haunting strains of the Lacrimosa and the Confutatis come to the fore, and from the first time I saw it this scene (and of course the attendant score) never left my consciousness.

Joining the Portland Symphonic Choir several years ago gave me the opportunity to do a number of incredibly important things. On a personal level, it galvanized my desire to improve my musicianship, to re-embark on the process of making great music with other talented musicians, an endeavor which had been long gone from my life at that point. It also allowed me the privilege of 'preaching the gospel' of classical music, so to speak. To put it out there for the world to see, to say 'this is the music I love, my ability to make music is the talent of which I am most proud, and I hope that whatever small contribution I make will help allow you to discover and enjoy this music for yourself.' Along with a great number of smaller gems that I have sung with the choir over the last few years, I have had the privilege of singing some of what our director Stephen Zopfi has called 'the great utterances of the human spirit.' Beethoven's Ninth Symphony. Orff's Carmina Burana. Vaughan Williams' Serenade to Music. And just last Friday night, we sang the Requiem.

For those who have never experienced the grueling rehearsal schedule of concert week for a major symphonic and/or choral work, let's just say the process can be exhausting. Hour after hour, for two, sometimes three or four nights before the concert, the entire focus must be on the music. Everything else is subsumed: personal life, work life, rest, even the most basic functions: meals hastily wolfed down in the few minutes between the end of work and the start of practice are the norm, and if ya gotta go during rehearsal, too bad: just hold it. We are forced to live our lives in the view of our compatriots. Talk to the kids, the spouse, the significant other on the cell phone; stretch out on the floor and catch a few winks during the ten minutes of break time allotted at practice. Even if there is an evening of rest somewhere in that crazy week, everything else that has been shuffled to the background in the temporarily neglected parts of our lives must be dealt with, so usually it's not much of a rest at all.

Occasionally I get tired of the music. Around about 9 oclock at Thursday night's rehearsal, I can honestly say that I was sick of the Requiem. I wanted to go out and have a drink with friends, not listen to more notes about our singing. I was tired; sleep had been a precious and rare commodity during the past week (I had also sung in a concert with the Bach Cantata Choir, and then played harpsichord and helped set up and tear down for a late night show with Classical Revolution Portland, both of those on Sunday, not to mention getting ready for the helter-skelter performance of the 4th movement of Beethoven's Ninth at the 24/7 concert on the 22nd.) Like most of the other musicians in the groups I perform with, this music making is on top of working a full time job and balancing family and personal life. So, yes, Thursday night I was just a little weary of the Hostias and the Dies Irae.

All that changes on performance day. Whatever exhaustion exists, whatever sacrifices have been made in the previous week, a curious and difficult-to-describe energy pervades the day. Work seems to rush by as you think about all the things that still have to happen before the show starts. Set up, sound check, a final hasty rehearsal, getting dressed, finding time to grab a bite to eat, all in the two or so precious hours between the end of work and the opening notes of the concert. My alma mater (PSU) was in the Big Dance (The NCAA Basketball Tournament or March Madness for the non-sports fans reading this.) Little ol' PSU under the bright lights, playing with the big boys. Can't think about that though; no time to watch the game (a thumping by Xavier) or get too bummed out about the Vikings' loss. Just one more thing that takes a back seat during concert week.

A snafu with the tickets, and the show starts almost a half hour late. By the time the first notes of the Kyrie sound, all of that fades into the background. Ideally one is raptly focused on the music. All the things you've worked on in the past week: the diction, the entrances and cut-offs, the articulation and dynamics, phrasing and blend, these are what should be foremost in the mind. And for the most part they are; there's nothing like a wandering mind (or many wandering minds) for fouling up a show. But there are invariably resting points, and during these my focus sometimes shifts from the minutiae of the performance and expands outward to take in the bigger picture.

Stephen's notes before the program stuck in my head; the death of such a young genius as Mozart, the tragedy of being buried in a pauper's grave, the true location unknown. This man Mozart, whose music is of such staggering beauty and titanic genius that it moved me to name my own son after him, what more would we have had from him had he lived to a ripe old age like Haydn? How would this piece have sounded had he finished it in his own hand, and not, almost as though fulfilling a dire prophecy of his own doom, died before he finished it?

I grew up in a religion that believed in a literal corporeal resurrection, so as a boy and young man I had always expected to speak to my musical idols one day, to sit down with Bach and Mozart and play music, to while away the long hours of eternity learning at the feet of the masters. I envisioned conversations that we would have, music that we would listen to from the time after their deaths, and songs that were meaningful to me from my own time. What would Mozart think of Debussy? Would Bach like Stravinsky? What about The Beatles or R.E.M.? My belief structure has since shifted to where I no longer think that will happen, but still the seeds that were planted, the desire and hope to actually meet these great men, do not die easily. What would I say to Mozart, had I the chance? I understand many musicias have similar imaginary conversations with their favorite composers. Would it be possible to explain to him how his name has become synonymous with musical genius, with ethereal beauty and the tragedy of dying young? How could anyone describe what the fruits of his tireless labor have meant to the world?

As a writer it is my task to put difficult concepts into words and phrases that will convey to the reader something of the true nature of that which I seek to describe. I'd like to think sometimes I succeed; other times I'm sure I don't. I frankly don't have the desire to try to explain precisely what Mozart's music, and the opportunity to perform it, mean to me. Some things can only be felt and experienced. Music is a completely different language, one that transcends, one that evades entirely the limitations of words and speaks the true thoughts of the heart. I said everything I have to say about it Friday night at the Schnitz, I and the more than one hundred other musicians who took this incredible journey with me.

I hope the audience enjoyed listening as much as we did singing and playing. If they did, that is a great victory for the arts and nothing short of a miracle for the soul.


Crossposted at Northwest Reverb

Addendum: Look for an "outsider's" review of the Requiem by Eric Johnson here at this site coming soon.

CD Review: Handel's Acis und Galatea (version by Mendelssohn Bartholdy)

In 2005, a music antiquarian discovered an arrangement by Mendelssohn Bartholdy of Handel’s masque Acis and Galatea. While other Handel arrangements by Mendelssohn are known, it is believed that this was the first time this particular music had seen the light of day since its London run in 1869.

The Handel festival in Göttingen immediately acquired the music and approached renowned Handel interpreter Nicholas McGegan, and they presented the first modern performance of this work in May of last year. The Norddeutschen Rundfunk Chor and the FestspielOrchester Göttingen teamed up with McGegan to produce this CD, released on the Carus-Verlag label.

McGegan approaches the work with brisk baroque bombast; Handel's more spare orchestration has been fleshed out with timpani, horns, clarinets and other instruments. McGegan’s irascible personality and ebullient conducting style are readily apparent on this disc. Bright, lively tempos abound; he seems to revel in the glory of the somewhat cliche pastoral idyll presented in the opening chorus and indeed the rest of the work. The clear German diction is a pleasure to hear from a native-speaking choir. Most of the soloists are not specifically baroque specialists, which makes good sense considering the interesting idiom of baroque music filtered through the lens of early 19th-century orchestration. Soprano Julia Kleiter particularly stands out with her warm, inviting Galatea. This CD should appeal to those who love Handel, Mendelssohn and/or McGegan.

Note: Cross-posted at NW Reverb.

New Reviews

I'm still not living up to my goal to post here weekly yet but bear with me! I forgot to post the link to In Mulieribus' Valentine's Day concert, a review I wrote while relaxing in lovely Playa del Carmen, Mexico. I wrote a review of the Concord Ensemble's Saturday night performance at NW Reverb.

In the next day or so I will have a review of the new Nicholas McGegan CD, the world premier recording of Mendelssohn's arrangement of Handel's Acis and Galatea. Also, I'm excited about a guest blog coming up at the 'Verb by PSC conductor/artistic director Stephen Zopfi on the North American premier of the Levin completion of Mozart's Requiem, which I will be singing with the PSC on March 20th. But more on those later...hope you enjoy the reviews.

Viola da Gamba, or how not to make it Moo like a Cow

I'm still working on that bit, but it's coming along. I've been practicing, I won't say every day, but more days than not, so that's good for my musical discipline. I make a solid effort to do so even if I've got something going on; for instance, let's say I'm going to a Blazers game after work. I get home and find I've got 20 minutes to kill after I've eaten and before I have to leave. I'll bust out the viol and use that 20 minutes to practice, knowing full well that I won't be doing any practicing after the game. I try, though, whenever possible, to alot at least a full half hour.

For a month or so I just worked on a G major scale and arpeggio. I'm making an effort to sing the notes as I play them, to help fix in my head the different locations of the notes on the fretboard. Being a keyboard player, one of the things to get my head wrapped around is the fact that on a stringed instrument, you can sound the same pitch at different locations on the fretboard. I'm hoping that it will eventually become a more intuitive thing for me; for now it's just another great mystery that I've got to deal with.

I practiced the scales enough so that I actually don't have to look at my fingers all the time now, which frees me up a bit to read the music on the page that I'm trying to learn. I don't have any rosin yet (no excuse for that; I've just been lazy but I will have some soon) so I did a lot of string plucking so that I could practice the fingering, and I think that did me a lot of good.

I had a lesson yesterday and so I've gotten back to practicing the bowing again. Trying to match my teacher's smooth, fluid motion with the bowing arm was a bit frustrating, but there were times when I felt like I was getting the hang of it. The whole cow mooing thing, I've discovered, can be largely eliminated by keeping the bow perpendicular to the bridge and not sliding it up and down the string. The other part is the actual combination of action in the bowing arm, wrist and fingers, the correct actuation (is that a word?) of which will yield a smooth start to the sounding of the note. Of course, knowing that and doing it are sometimes two different things at this point, but I try not to get too overwhelmed, and tell myself that what I need to do is concentrate on the few small things that I need to know now. Trying to comprehend the strange symbols in my teacher's copy of Marais' Deuxieme Livre de Pieces de Violes only leads to mind-boggling confusion at this point.

So there's an update. I'm excited to actually be working on a real song, probably by Praetorius. Not sure where all this will lead; will it be another instrument that I just sort of half-ass and use my own intuitive musicality to learn the basics of, or will I take it farther and really get serious and try to learn it? I'd like to think the latter at this point, so I'm ramping up towards making it a daily ritual and really trying to dig in my heels and go for it. I'll include some pictures soon.

FourScore Challenges the Audience in 'Shut Up and Sing!'

I had the opportunity to attend an exciting concert last weekend by a new P-town ensemble calling themselves FourScore. These guys are great musicians all, and gave a very imaginative and daring performance. I reviewed the concert at NW Reverb if you want to check it out.

I haven't been blogging much lately; I got sort of bogged down with writing and music projects but I'm finding my stride again so I'm going to make a conscious effort to post here at Musical Oozings at the very least once per week. I quit writing for Suite101; it wasn't really working for me but I gained some valuable experience at web writing there, so it's all good. That allows me to free up some space for more important things that I have to do here. Later this week I plan on posting the second installment in my series on learning the viola da gamba, and I have a local indie hip hop cd that I still need to review and want to do so soon, so heads up for that!

Dueling Reviews: The Vancouver Symphony plays Nielsen, Shostakovich

I went to a great concert yesterday by the Vancouver Symphony Orchestra, as did my NW Reverb colleague James Bash. For a while now James has had in mind the concept of 'dueling reviews,' i.e. he and I attend the same concert and write our own reviews of it, and yesterday we finally made that happen. I just published my review at NW Reverb; looks like I beat him to the punch (sorry James ;0) but I expect his review will be up soon. I'm not sure if he's reviewing it for the Columbian or for the 'Verb, but I think this will prove an interesting experiment and as always I look forward to reading what James had to say.

Long story short: if you love Shostakovich as much as I do, go hear this concert tonight!

Back to Blogging! Best Shows of '08

After a couple of SUPREMELY lazy weeks, (well-deserved, I might add), occasioned by my work having been cancelled for an entire week due to Snowpocalypse '08 and the five days I took off surrounding the New Year, I'm back to blogging again, so all five people who regularly read Musical Oozings (ok, I shouldn't exaggerate--all three) will be happy to know I'm back at the keyboard, fingers smoking!

James Bash asked me to write a little something about my favorite concerts of last year, so I posted them at NW Reverb, along with James' list of his favorites. I have another beer article coming up soon at Primer Magazine, more stuff at Suite101 I'm sure, and I hope to start archiving BachBeat (the BCC Newsletter I edit) online. I'll keep writing about my quest to learn the viola da gamba, and whatever else comes to mind. I'll be reviewing the Vancouver Symphony's first concert of the New Year here in a couple of weeks.

So happy New Year everyone, to all my new friends and especially old, to all my compadres from past days in my life with whom I am now re-connected thanks to the dubious miracle of Facebook--best of everything in the year to come!

My Quest to learn the Viola da Gamba (if anyone cares...)

So I've taken up a new instrument: from the title you probably already guessed what it is. Fellow early music afficionados know the fiddle of which I write, but seeing as how the heyday of this instrument was about 3-4 centuries ago, the uninitiated might beg the question: what the hell is it? And why do you want to play it?

The easy question first: viola da gamba means 'viol of the leg,' as opposed to the viola da braccio, the 'viol of the arm.' So as not to expose my ignorance this will be brief: the violin (braccio) family became vastly more popular than the gamba family in the late 17th/early 18th centuries, because (among other reasons) they were louder and more suited to the big concert halls that began to develop at the time. Gambas were quite often played by amateurs in a consort (sort of a precursor to the string quartet) but a tradition of virtuoso solo playing did arise in France, primarily focusing on the basse de viole, which is actually the second largest member of the family (third if you count the double bass as a viol, which it could properly be considered since is sort of a hybrid with features from both the viol and violin families.) I won't go into much more detail; good ol' Wikipedia will tell you far more than you want to know about it.

To the why (and how) I can speak more properly. I had known of the instrument for a long time, but after watching the flawed but fascinating French film Tous les matins du monde (All the Mornings of the World), which was about two very famous gamba masters from the late 17th-early 18th centuries (Monsieur de Ste. Colombe and Marin Marais,) I was captivated by the rich, intense and intimate sonority of the instrument.

Being someone who plays a number of instruments but for the most part not terribly proficiently (i.e., enough to get by in a jam session and amuse myself and my friends), I've long wanted to seriously study another instrument. Many things factored in: I wanted to play something that was versatile, but could be played in baroque music (no clarinets or electric guitars, for instance), I wanted something that was primarily a line instrument (not focused on the 'vertical', but on the 'horizontal' aspect of music) and, having been a keyboard player my whole life, I'm fascinated by the concept of being able to alter the character of an individual note as it is being played. Playing the piano, once you've struck the note its pretty much done; your release, pedaling and other factors can change the quality of the note to a certain extent, but not the way, say a trumpeter or a violinist can radically affect every aspect of a given note simply because of the nature of the instrument.

So after pondering and dithering and vacillating for a few years, I settled on the viola da gamba. It wasn't until after I had really decided to go with this that I found out (fortunately for me) that the gamba is considered an 'easier' instrument (whatever that means) for an adult beginner; a quote I found on Wikipedia said something to the effect that this instrument heralds from a time 'when musicianship was valued over virtuosity,' (see the above link for the exact quote.) Yay for me; I accidentally picked an instrument that isn't considered prohibitively difficult to learn.

Not that you could convince me of that...I can occasionally get a reasonable sound from it, but mostly when I try to bow it the result is truly hideous. But more on that at a later date...

Anonymous "4" explore the roots of Anglo-American folk song

On Wednesday, December 3rd, The Anonymous 4 (minus Susan Hellauer, absent to attend to family matters) delivered a scintillating exploration of American music of Scottish, Irish and English origins at the Kaul Auditorium at Reed College. This Grammy winning, world-beloved vocal ensemble captivated a wildly enthusiastic audience despite missing one of their members. They were assisted by accomplished string players Darol Anger, a Portlander on fiddle and mandolin, and Scott Nygaard on guitar.

Read more here at NW Reverb.

Glowing Reviews: A good week for music

Last week I unfortunately missed Grey Anne's CD release party despite my best efforts to find it, so I've been anxiously waiting for her debut cd facts n figurines. It came in the mail today and I listened to it all the way through a couple of times. It was f*$#ing great, like I was sure it would be; I reviewed it at Suite101. Between that and my last week of music, which consisted of Fidelio last Thursday, PSU Symphony last Friday, La Stella on Sunday, and the PBO last night, I feel sated and happy, music whore that I am.

PBO Assembles World Class Talent for 'Pergolesi, Naples and Julius Caesar'

I went to a fantastic display of baroque muscianship last night at the Portland Baroque Orchestra concert. Nicholas McGegan, Yulia Van Doren, and Matthew White are amazing musicians, and if you love early music, beg borrow or steal the money to go to one of the two remaining performances this weekend. I got Nick McGegan's autograph on one of his CDs, adding to my collection of autgraphed CDs by other renowned directors such as Monica Huggett, Richard Egarr, and Rinaldo Alessandrini. Bring on Chris Hogwood! I know, you can say it...I'm a total nerd. What fun it is...

A Quick Note on La Stella

Sunday at 3 pm at the First Presbyterian Church in Portland, the La Stella early music ensemble gave their first of hopefully many performances to come. I did not take notes at the concert, so this is just a quick heads-up about a promising new group.

La Stella consists of five performers:

Mary Rowell--violin
Zoe Tokar, alto recorder and voice flute
Owen Daly, harpsichord (playing an instrument of his own crafting)
Hideki Yamaya, theorbo and baroque guitar
Max Fuller, viola da gamba and baroque cello

They are all experienced Baroque musicians, and the depth of their expertise showed. The program consisted of very difficult works that required sincere scholasticism and excellent technique. While not quite flawless, as a serious early music fan this concert was one of the most satisfying meals I have had in some time.

In addition to trio sonatas for various combinations by Bach and Telemann, they delved into the early and middle Baroque repertoire for works by composers who are not heard as often, such as Giovanni Pandolfi (1620-1669) and Carlo Farina (1600-1640). Fuller played Marin Marais' langorous homage to his mysterious master, the famous Tombeau pour M'sieur de Sainte-Colombe for viola da gamba, . Yamaya presented two toccatas and a corrente for solo chitarrone (theorbo) by Alessandro Piccinini (1566-1638), and in the final 'Paris Quartet' by Telemann all five musicians played, with Yamaya joining the continuo on baroque guitar.

I'm not sure that there are any other small chamber ensembles in Portland who regularly play this type of music at this level, so I strongly hope that La Stella continues in this vein and receives the support that musicians like this so richly deserve from the PDX early music community. They do not have a website yet, but La Stella does have a Facebook page for those interested in learning more about the group or the performers.

NOTE: This is cross-posted ad Northwest Reverb.

Review of PSU Symphony at NW Reverb; preview of things to come

I attended a performance of the PSU Symphony's presentation of a Beethoven Mass as well as some new works, including the U.S. premier of Fresco by Portland's own Bryan Johanson. The review is here at NW Reverb.

Later this week at Suite101 I'm going to review facts n figurines, the debut CD by one of my favorite local alternative darlings Grey Anne, as well as (here at MO) a CD of PDX underground hip-hop that I bought for five bucks from a rapper on the street after he threw down and hit me with his flow right there on the sidewalk downtown. Now that's salesmanship!

Bach Fans, learn about the Rough and Rowdy side of the Maestro

I just published an article here at Suite 101 about some of the less-often discussed aspects of Bach's life, such as his swordfights, jail-time and confrontations with fellow musicians. Did you know the first draft of the Well-Tempered Clavier was sketched while Bach was imprisoned? Find out more...

CD Review up at Suite101, my new writing gig

I have recently been accepted to write articles at Suite101, a sort of general interest website. If I play my cards right, I might actually make a little money there, so zippadeedoodah for that! I'm going to link Suite101 over to the side of my blog here, but if you'd like to read the review, check it out here. (Hint: if you click on the ads next to my article, that's how I get paid. ;0)

New Article up at Primer Magazine; new gadgets on my blog

Hey all,

I have a new article published here at Primer Magazine, a sort of introduction to live classical music for someone unfamiliar with it. Not that any of you need it, but it may make for an interesting read anyway.

Also, there are a couple of ways to follow my blog now if you're interested, which will both make it easier for you to keep track of Musical Oozings, and also allow me to feel much more popular, something which I desperately need after my devastating experiences in high school. ;0)

You can become a 'Follower,' (not as Manson-Jim Jones cultish as it sounds), or sign up to receive notice of new postings through the feed reader of your choice. You can choose to either follow it publicly or privately. Happy Halloween!

Press Release: BCC Concert on October 26th

Cantata Choir to present free concert
Sunday October 26 at 2 pm, featuring Cantatas 106 and 140,
Plus Heinrich Schuetz: Psalm 128
Silent Auction Follows the Concert


The Bach Cantata Choir of Portland will present a free concert on Sunday, October 26th at 2pm at Rose City Park Presbyterian Church, 1907 NE 45th Ave in Portland, Oregon. The concert, under the direction of conductor Ralph Nelson, will feature a performance of Bach’s Cantata #106 “Gottes Zeit ist die allerbeste Zeit”, Cantata #140 “Wachet auf” and Heinrich Schuetz’s 8-part setting of Psalm 128. The concert is free and open to the public. A free-will offering will be taken. Doors open at 1:30pm. A silent auction to benefit the operations of the choir will occur directly following the concert in the parlor adjacent to the sanctuary.

Featured in the concert will be sopranos Nan Haemer and Solveig Nyberg-Akert, alto Irene Weldon, tenor Byron Wright and baritone Jacob Herbert. The works will be accompanied by a small chamber orchestra. John Vergin will provide the organ continuo. This concert features the Bach Cantata Choir – a choir of 50 professional or semi-professional voices, drawn from many of Portland’s finest choirs.

Bach’s sacred cantatas were written to be performed as part of the Lutheran Church liturgy. Cantata #106 “Gottes Zeit ist die allerbeste Zeit” (“God’s Time is the Best of Times”) is one of the earliest cantatas of Johann Sebastian Bach – written in 1707 when the composer was 21 and working as organist in the small German town of Mühlhausen. Bach subtitled the work, “Actus Tragicus”, and the cantata is a fascinating and extremely moving work – written to be used at funeral services. It is quite unique in that it is scored is for 2 recorders, 2 viola da gamba, continuo, soloists and chorus.