SEASON EIGHT of Music in May (Mim) opened on Friday night to a grateful audience eager to hear definitive performances of chamber music monuments. The seven musicians of Mim are top players who perform in many leading orchestras and ensembles throughout the country. Featured guest this year was violinist Martin Beaver who played with the Tokyo String Quartet in the final eleven years of its existence.

This modest annual mini-festival delivered two concerts in the resonant acoustics of Peace United Church in Santa Cruz. The Friday program presented three masterpieces of the 18th and 19th centuries: works by JS Bach, Mozart and Mendelssohn. It was a bold choice given that these compositions are well-known and have been recorded by leading artists. The result was not a safe review of timeless and familiar music, but rather offered engaging and fresh interpretations.

Originally written for the harpsichord in 1741, the Goldberg Variations by Bach has been transcribed for a variety of instruments, including solo guitar, brass ensemble (Canadian Brass) and string trio. With a simple three-part texture, the music translates easily to violin, viola and cello, performed here by Rebecca Jackson, Alexandra Leem and Jonah Kim. The trio made excellent use of the acoustics of the church, blending their sound with a minimum of vibrato and impeccable intonation. Because of the simple harmony of the original, the instruments at times played quietly, creating an intimate and gentle sound, though rhythmic energy came through easily. From the original Aria and 30 Variations, this program offered a brief but appropriate selection of the Aria and Variations 1 through 5. Each instrument could be heard clearly, preserving the beauty of the music.

Mozart composed six quintets for strings that comprise two violins, two violas and cello. (They are sometimes called ‘viola quintets’.) This one, K516, was composed in 1787 and is one of the most beloved chamber works in the repertory. Mozart used the key of G Minor sparingly, the most famous example being his Symphony No. 40. Rather than the doom and gloom that many find in the composer’s use of the key, this listener finds the opposite. The first movement is music that sings and soars, especially when it is well-played as it was here. Again the acoustics favored the strings, which can create warm, blending sounds. And as in the Bach trio, spot-on intonation was an important factor in the success of the performance. Especially noteworthy was the ensemble’s natural rhythmic flow which, in its flexibility, allowed the colorful harmonies to shape the phrasing. For the quintet, violinist Beaver and violist Liang-Ping How joined the musicians of the Bach trio.

Rebecca Jackson and Jonah Kim were joined by Danish pianist Katrine Gislinge (left) for an energetic performance of Mendelssohn’s Piano Trio in D Minor, another “warhorse” of the classical repertory and probably the most played and demanded by audiences. Gislinge has a distinguished career in Europe and was a joy to hear. She easily flew through the virtuoso piano writing, making it sound as simple as floating on air. Her rapid scale passages were strings of lustrous pearls. The Yamaha CFX piano sounded glorious under her control.

Unfortunately, the violin and cello were dwarfed by this beautiful piano. At times its upper register canceled out the violin. This is the challenge of the work: every ensemble struggles with balancing a big piano sound with violin and cello. (Only a studio recording does the work justice, where balance can be controlled electronically.) But in the lush Andante second movement, Jackson and Kim were able to shine in the warmth of Mendelssohn’s writing.

Their performance of the Scherzo third movement was a complete success, as evidenced by the audience reaction. It is a known fact among performers that Mendelssohn’s scherzos can elicit sighs and giggles, spontaneous physical responses. This audience performed on cue, including giggles. It was great. The last movement concluded with bravura as pianist Gislinge performed with a dazzling technique and beautiful sound.

AT THE START of intermission during Sunday’s solo harp recital by Noël Wan, longtime Carmel Music Society subscriber Gil Neill joked, “Are you on your way to heaven?” As this concert demonstrated, the slender young woman who won the CMS instrumental competition last year triumphed over her challengers not as much by the force of her spectacular technique but by her musicianship. Ms Wan is the complete package, a fully mature artist with an international reputation at 21. (She was born in San Jose to Taiwanese parents.)

Somehow the word got out. CMS co-president Anne Thorp printed 150 special handouts that listed Wan’s choice of repertoire (plus notes) only to find she needed twice that number. This was no sampler, but a demanding program of extraordinary variety that showed—or rather taught—the riveted audience what the harp is capable of in the right (and left) hands. And all was played by memory. In many cases it seemed Wan’s two hands worked as one, then suddenly as a duet of two different points of view, one independent of the other. I don’t remember the last time a solo recital so captivated me.

Wan opened the afternoon with Marie Claire Jamet’s transcription of JS Bach’s Lute Suite in E minor, BWV 996. A lute player might have been a bit perplexed by the much-longer decay of resonance on the pedal harp, but Wan kept the six movements in a state of momentum. Following on was Paul Hindemith’s Sonata for harp of 1939 (the only orchestral instrument, legend says, that he did not play at least competently.) The playful middle movement was sandwiched by more solemn fare. It’s safe to say it was a local premiere.

Some pesky harp strings drift out of tune while being played. Wan’s tuning wrench shared her seat and several times was used to retune them. (The famous classical guitarist John Williams once told me that guitarists spend half their time tuning and the other half playing out of tune. I think most harpists could relate to that perspective as well.)

Music of substance then gave way to music of flash, mood and virtuosity for its own sake. The Toccata in F by Belgian Jean-Baptiste Loeillet (1680-1730), transcribed by harpist Marcel Grandjany, sparkled like a Domenico Scarlatti sonata. Henriette Renié’s Contemplation, a stately pavane at the start ended up, in Wan’s hands, with a filigree of evaporating ether. Jean-Michel Demase’s Sicilienne Variée (variations on a 6/8 meter Sicilian rhythm) opened with the theme played on soft harmonics before exploring the full range of other harp techniques and ending in brilliance.

Felix Godefroid (1818-1887)—the ‘Paganini of the harp’—took a virtuosic 10-minute turn with the hoary old Carnival of Venice tune but only after three and a half minutes of suppressed laugh-out-loud showoff introduction. By then, “You could hear a pin drop,” someone later remarked.

Marcel Grandjany’s Children’s Hour adroitly used the same opening theme to introduce the six charming images that began with Into Mischief and ended with The Sandman. Giddyup Pony and Parade proved the composer was a keen observer of child’s play. Dutchman Marius Flothius’ Pour le tombeau d’Orphée, an “elegiac dance,” mourned the mythic Greek musician with uniquely ambivalent emotion. In its later moments Wan’s two hands became a duet, the left plucking a tune low on the instrument while the right accompanied with delicate arpeggios above.

English harpist Elias Parish-Alvars’ virtuosic Introduction and Variations on Themes from Bellini’s Norma was literally breathtaking. Wan rewarded a standing ovation with an arrangement of Dancing Grains, a Chinese folksong.

Three years before winning the CMS competition, Wan won the International Harp Festival contest in Holland. You can see her performance there of Louis Spohr’s Fantasie in C Minor on YouTube. Click HERE

Photo by Lyn Bronson; Peninsula Reviews: Wan winning the CMS competition in 2014

MAX BRAGADO-DARMAN set toes tapping Sunday afternoon in Carmel with his “Invitation to Dance” season finale. Actually, his Monterey Symphony ‘du jour’ delivered the goods. Every piece on the program could trace its origin to dance, the true beginning of instrumental music though lost in the mists of prehistory. These works, Weber/Berlioz and Antonín Dvořák from two halves of the 19th century and Sergei Rachmaninoff and Alberto Ginastera from the 20th, were all far more sophisticated than dance’s humble beginnings but just as infectious. (Concertmaster Christina Mok, left, got solos in both of the latter two.)

The program booklet listed the orchestra personnel in three categories: Symphony musicians in this concert, supplemental musicians in this concert and Symphony musicians not appearing in this concert. This data was alarming. For example, only three Symphony musicians played in the second violin section, seven were ‘supplemental’ and four Symphony musicians were not in attendance. In the double bass section, two Symphony musicians were joined by four who were ‘supplemental’ while four from the Symphony’s roster sat out these three performances. If I understand this correctly, 20 Monterey Symphony musicians chose to not participate in this program. I have heard from some that this orchestra is not happy with its music director. But, as the complexities of Rachmaninoff’s Symphonic Dances revealed, these musicians have each other’s backs.

Meanwhile, program annotator Todd Samra described Berlioz’ orchestration of Weber’s Invitation to the Dance as “infamous.” Everyone who knows this grand concert waltz at all is familiar with the Berlioz, opulently scored for large orchestra—and framed here by generous cello solos played by principal Adelle-Akiko Kearns. Almost no one remembers the original piano solo.

The orchestra then gave a fabulous account of itself in Rachmaninoff’s Symphonic Dances, which for all intents and purposes is his Fifth Symphony, after the nominal three and the cantata The Bells. There will always be those who hear the Symphonic Dances, composed in 1940, as stylistically from the late 19th century. But it’s a brilliant orchestral showpiece with a singular place in the 20th century symphonic canon. And if you like it loud, Bragado does too. (Some patrons I know choose to sit as far back in the Sunset Center auditorium as possible.)

In its way, the Symphonic Dances inserts some of the composer’s favorite memories into a creation so fresh that he surprised even himself. (He would die of melanoma, in 1943, just days before his 70th birthday.) It’s an extravagant work, with many changes of mood in each of its three movements, rhythmically complex, vivaciously colorful, in turns fiercely masculine and utterly seductive, a real Don Juan at a time when such personalities in classical music—except for performers—were few and far between. The woodwind complement in the middle of the opening movement warbled enchantingly, contrabassoonist Lawrence Rhodes taking the haunting standout alto sax solo. In its last moments, Rachmaninoff softly mourns the spectacular climax from the same movement of his failed (and no less brilliant) First Symphony.

In the swaying second movement, tempo di valse, the viola section gets its own big moment while its fellow strings accompany with pizzicato.

The complex rhythms of the finale, 9/8s and 6/8s among others snapping back and forth, pile on the composer’s lifelong favorite musical motto, the Dies Irae which dates back to the 13th century. Moreover, he recalls the ninth movement from his Vespers that retells the story of Christ’s resurrection in exalted terms, a detail that would have enriched the program note.

The published program concluded with three familiar pieces from Dvořák’s Op. 46 Slavonic Dances and the four-dance suite from Estancia by Ginastera, all well played by the orchestra. Except for the tender Wheat Dance, featuring solos by flutist Dawn Walker and concertmaster Mok, with the horns in tandem, the other high-energy dances took added power from the percussion department. The Ginastera revels in explosive special effects and especially the riotous final Malambo, the composer’s greatest hit.

The concert began with a reading of Elgar’s Nimrod (from his Enigma Variations) as a tribute to four women who made major contributions to the Monterey Symphony, three board and Friends members and bassoonist Jane Orzel, who quit the orchestra in discontent in 2012. It wasn’t heartfelt from the podium; it peaked too early and got only louder after that. Elgar wrote the piece with tremendous love for his best friend. This was going through the motions without the love.

IF YOU WEREN’T at Watsonville’s Mello Center on Sunday, you missed the mother of all Mother’s Day concerts. In the most sensational regional orchestra concert I have heard in my four decades as a resident here, Daniel Stewart and the Santa Cruz Symphony finished his second season spectacularly. Carl Orff’s one-hour “scenic” cantata, Carmina Burana, dominated the event, but smaller-scale bits made indelible impressions as well. And certainly the theatrical touches enhanced the experience all round.

To be fair, the orchestras of Marin Alsop’s Cabrillo Festival and Paul Goodwin’s Bach Festival are both performing at world-class levels. But for the Santa Cruz orchestra, operating with less than half of the Monterey Symphony’s budget, this performance not only raised the bar to a new level, but vaulted over it as well.

Stewart’s magnetism is palpable. With one or two exceptions so far in his young tenure in Santa Cruz, he is otherwise entirely on his game and communicates it vividly to musicians and audiences alike. He conducted Orff’s masterpiece from memory, both words and music. By letting his soloists take their leads, he always made it sound spontaneous. He loved Cheryl Anderson’s 80-member Cabrillo Symphonic Chorus and it—they—she—reciprocated.

As an overture, the program began with the March for the Ceremony of the Turks by Jean-Baptiste Lully, Italian-born composer favored by Louis XIV in the 17th century. Lully and the great playwright Molière concocted Le Bourgeois Gentilhomme—by definition a societal non-sequitur—that amused Louis’ hangers-on. (It would live on with enchanting results in works for stage and concert hall by 20th century composer Richard Strauss.) As the march repeated itself several times, the choristers, festively costumed like peasants and wandering monks, came down the aisles greeting audience members and sprinkling rose petals on them. The motley crowd included about 30 children. That brilliant entrance instantly lifted all spirits.

With the entire concert dedicated to the memory of Jane Orzel, two of the soloists, soprano Nadine Sierra and countertenor Anthony Roth Costanzo, sang the duet “Io t’abbraccio” from the opera Rodelinda by Handel. This was no last minute addition, but an exquisitely polished performance that inspired many in the audience to offer the first standing ovation.

Anderson then conducted her chorus in Tomás Luis de Victoria’s irresistible O magnum mysterium.

Carmina Burana may be the most performed work in Santa Cruz Symphony history. But it never made a greater impact than on this occasion. What makes it so distinctive is Orff’s use of vocal and instrumental staccato, much pizzicato on the strings, and percussion, including two pianos. The soprano aria “In trutina” (and its later echoes) stands apart from all else as the legato melodic exception. John Moore established himself with a rich, robust baritone delivered with theatrical flair. Costanzo navigated the pitiable lament of the roasted swan, with Moore following as the swaggering Abbot of Cockaigne, in the tavern. Sierra, statuesque and wrapped tightly in gold lame, sang beautifully. Late in the performance, on two occasions, the 30 children and teens were gathered next to her, and Moore opposite, at the edge of the stage. Coached by Anderson, their singing from memory was spot on, in pitch and rhythm. The youngest of them appeared to be no older than five. While waiting their turn, they stood in rapt attention if not amazement at the soloists. At the end, the audience cheered, whistled and shouted its approval in a lengthy and well-deserved standing ovation. They’ll be talking about this Mother’s Day for a long time to come.

SINCE ARRIVING in Carmel Valley from his native Scotland some 35 years ago, conductor Stewart Robertson has achieved an international reputation. But when a large crowd of locals filled the Hidden Valley Theater Friday night, many of them had little or no knowledge of Robertson’s triumphs in the larger world. Conducting the first of his two last public concerts—the second was Saturday in Aptos— Robertson is best known locally for two reasons: he was the founding music director/conductor of Youth Music Monterey (at that time called Youth Orchestra of the Monterey Peninsula) and the many opera collaborations with designer/director Robert Darling that he conducted at Hidden Valley, most recently including La bohème, Gift of the Magi and Don Giovanni.

Friday’s performance was also bittersweet. Most of us already knew that Parkinson’s disease had forced Robertson’s retirement from his longtime music directorship of Florida’s Atlantic Classical Orchestra, announced only a couple of months ago. (Plans are in place for him to return this winter to make studio recordings of ACO’s several original commissions.)

Complicit in this program for 15 string instruments was Roy Malan, lately retired founding concertmaster of the San Francisco Ballet Orchestra, lecturer at UC Santa Cruz and longtime Robertson collaborator. For the occasion, Malan assembled a surpassing ensemble that gave Robertson every subtle response he asked for. Art and music happened together.

Included in the program were Edward Elgar’s Introduction and Allegro, Mozart’s String Quintet, K 406 (with two violas), Josef Suk’s Serenade for Strings in E-flat and Samuel Barber’s Adagio for Strings. The Suk serenade of 1892 was a regional premiere. (Added on was another Barber setting, described below.)

The popular Elgar piece, in form a quasi concerto grosso, illustrates the composer’s unique mastery of sequencing, the repetition of a short melodic or rhythmic phrase up or down the scale. The technique had actually been losing its appeal with composers at the time it was composed in 1905. Somehow, Elgar made it seem like an endangered species and took a stand, magically allowing its thematic fragments to drift away, including a digressive fugal episode, only to bring them back with deftness and panache. Plainly Robertson got the game and made sure of it.

With Malan leading the charge, the Mozart quintet, a transcribed reduction from the earlier Octet for Winds, K 388, strutted its C-Minor tonality with macho bravura. The third movement, minuet in canon, shows the composer’s instinctive mastery of counterpoint by the age of 26; as instructed, the second viola sat out the trio section. The final allegro served up variations on a tune that sounded like it might have come from folksong or opera buffa.

Two or three years before his death, Johannes Brahms was so taken with Suk’s Serenade that he bestowed his approval of it to his publisher, Simrock. The story goes that Suk was inspired by his budding love for Otilie, a daughter of his teacher, Antonín Dvořák. The work stands apart for its originality of style, form and warmth of character. The lovely adagio third movement lulled with muted strings, lulling some in the audience to nod off. Yet it was here, about two thirds through, that Dvořák’s influence made its most obvious appearance.

Was it my longtime personal friendship with Robertson or his gorgeous balancing of the textures and phrasing of Barber’s Adagio for Strings that brought a tear to my eyes? Probably both. Malan’s hand-picked ensemble was flawless.

At the program conclusion, and to honor Robertson, Hidden Valley’s Peter Meckel recited words from Ecclesiastes, then introduced a specially-commissioned Steve Tosh arrangement of Barber’s setting to music of James Agee’s Sure on this shining night. The veteran vocal quartet were Laura Anderson, Lisa Chavez, Christopher Bengochea and Chris Filipowicz. The conductor was Mark Schaull.

Everyone stayed for the reception.

MONTEREY COUNTY Arts Counsel executive Paulette Lynch announment: “Many [public school] districts are taking advantage of the increased funding and the new curriculum [guidelines]. They are planning to increase music, dance, drama and visual arts. This is very exciting! But to ensure that every student has access to high quality programs, principals and school board members still need your encouragement. Please go to our website arts4mc.org where you will find links to all districts, a letter you can adapt and more resources. Please send your letter today! Plans for next year will be finalized in June.”

NEXTIES HONORS

CELEBRATE Santa Cruz area creative leaders, Andrea Mollenauer, Martijn Stiphout, Monica Karst, Paul De Worken, Courtney Laschkewitsch, and Coffee Zombie Collective, Friday, 7-11pm, at the Rio Theatre, 1205 Soquel Avenue, Santa Cruz.

CHAMBER MUSIC MONTEREY BAY’S 15-16 SEASON

BETWEEN OCTOBER 10 AND APRIL 15, CMMB’s lineup includes the Cypress String Quartet (and friends), Jasper String Quartet, Chamber Music Society of Lincoln Center, Morgenstern Piano Trio and Calefax Reed Quintet. Click HERE

MONTEREY SYMPHONY FINALE

MONTEREY SYMPHONY’S all-orchestra season finale this weekend, “Invitation to Dance,” features the vividly colorful Symphonic Dances by Rachmaninoff. Max Bragado conducts. See our CALENDAR or click the ad, left.

EUROPE LAUNCHES FREE OPERA STREAMING

TO DATE FIFTEEN major and regional opera companies are on board. Click HERE

REPORT: 13 PERCENT OF US MUSIC DIRECTOR ARE WOMEN

WATCHDOG/GADFLY Norman Lebrecht found this. Click HERE

PERFORMING ARTS PEOPLE

YOUTH MUSIC MONTEREY’s Chamber Players Director, Erica Horn. Click HERE

FRESH REVIEWS

SANTA CRUZ Symphony, and Hidden Valley Strings. Click HERE

VAN ANTWERP THEATRE’s Dog Logic & Paper Wing’s Nunsense. Click HERE

Scott MacClelland, editor

SINCE ARRIVING in Carmel Valley from his native Scotland some 35 years ago, conductor Stewart Robertson has achieved an international reputation. But when a large crowd of locals filled the Hidden Valley Theater Friday night, many of them had little or no knowledge of Robertson’s triumphs in the larger world. Conducting the first of his two last public concerts—the second was Saturday in Aptos— Robertson is best known locally for two reasons: he was the founding music director/conductor of Youth Music Monterey (at that time called Youth Orchestra of the Monterey Peninsula) and the many opera collaborations with designer/director Robert Darling that he conducted at Hidden Valley, most recently including La bohème, Gift of the Magi and Don Giovanni.

Friday’s performance was also bittersweet. Most of us already knew that Parkinson’s disease had forced Robertson’s retirement from his longtime music directorship of Florida’s Atlantic Classical Orchestra, announced only a couple of months ago. (Plans are in place for him to return this winter to make studio recordings of ACO’s several original commissions.)

Complicit in this program for 15 string instruments was Roy Malan, lately retired founding concertmaster of the San Francisco Ballet Orchestra, lecturer at UC Santa Cruz and longtime Robertson collaborator. For the occasion, Malan assembled a surpassing ensemble that gave Robertson every subtle response he asked for. Art and music happened together.

Included in the program were Edward Elgar’s Introduction and Allegro, Mozart’s String Quintet, K 406 (with two violas), Josef Suk’s Serenade for Strings in E-flat and Samuel Barber’s Adagio for Strings. The Suk serenade of 1892 was a regional premiere. (Added on was another Barber setting, described below.)

The popular Elgar piece, in form a quasi concerto grosso, illustrates the composer’s unique mastery of sequencing, the repetition of a short melodic or rhythmic phrase up or down the scale. The technique had actually been losing its appeal with composers at the time it was composed in 1905. Somehow, Elgar made it seem like an endangered species and took a stand, magically allowing its thematic fragments to drift away, including a digressive fugal episode, only to bring them back with deftness and panache. Plainly Robertson got the game and made sure of it.

With Malan leading the charge, the Mozart quintet, a transcribed reduction from the earlier Octet for Winds, K 388, strutted its C-Minor tonality with macho bravura. The third movement, minuet in canon, shows the composer’s instinctive mastery of counterpoint by the age of 26; as instructed, the second viola sat out the trio section. The final allegro served up variations on a tune that sounded like it might have come from folksong or opera buffa.

Two or three years before his death, Johannes Brahms was so taken with Suk’s Serenade that he bestowed his approval of it to his publisher, Simrock. The story goes that Suk was inspired by his budding love for Otilie, a daughter of his teacher, Antonín Dvořák. The work stands apart for its originality of style, form and warmth of character. The lovely adagio third movement lulled with muted strings, lulling some in the audience to nod off. Yet it was here, about two thirds through, that Dvořák’s influence made its most obvious appearance.

Was it my longtime personal friendship with Robertson or his gorgeous balancing of the textures and phrasing of Barber’s Adagio for Strings that brought a tear to my eyes? Probably both. Malan’s hand-picked ensemble was flawless.

At the program conclusion, and to honor Robertson, Hidden Valley’s Peter Meckel recited words from Ecclesiastes, then introduced a specially-commissioned Steve Tosh arrangement of Barber’s setting to music of James Agee’s Sure on this shining night. The veteran vocal quartet were Laura Anderson, Lisa Chavez, Christopher Bengochea and Chris Filipowicz. The conductor was Mark Schaull.

Everyone stayed for the reception.

YMM’S DISCOVERY OF CENTRAL ASIA

RARITIES PREVAILED during the Youth Music Monterey County spring concert on Sunday. Its eight-member brass ensemble, directed by Alex Bedner, opened the show with pieces by 16th century Tylman Susato, composer and music publisher from Antwerp. Then the Junior Youth Orchestra, 12 South County Strings (from remote Bradley and San Antonio school districts thanks to John Thomas Fritz and Kelly Stuart respectively) and the nearly full-sized Orchestra in the Schools, whose director is James Paoletti, were conducted by YMMC music director Farkhad Khudyev in a movement from Tchaikovsky’s Second Symphony. (I don’t think they could have put one more player on the Sunset Center stage.)

The two guest groups then retired and the strings of the Junior Youth Orchestra accompanied 12-year-old Justin Khoi Vu (left) who fearlessly performed the one-movement Violin Concerto in A Minor of 1868 by one Jean-Baptiste Accolay. (With almost no documentation to verify the composer’s existence, many have conjectured that the name was a pseudonym used by Henri Vieuxtemps for his pedagogical works.) The strings of the orchestra sounded under-rehearsed. But the following two movements from Turkish Fragments by Ippolitov-Ivanov, with the winds, brass and percussion restored, was a flat-out success and sounded a perfect fit for an orchestra of this level.

The YMMC Chamber Players string quartet, coached by Erica Horn, gave a fully professional account of Hugo Wolf’s Italian Serenade, a work that is not at all as simple to play as it is felicitous on the ear.

After Khudyev made comments about the remainder of the program, the senior Honors Orchestra broadly played Borodin’s popular In the Steppes of Central Asia, followed by the surprise piece of the day, the US premiere of Symphonic Pictures Turkmenistan by the short-lived Turkmen composer, Nury Halmamedov, who dazzled his teachers at the Moscow conservatory with it at the age of 23. Dazzle is the right word. This was clearly the work of a tremendously gifted musician. Each of its five movements displays a range of moods, from sorrow to joy, all skillfully drawn under Khudyev’s ever-sensitive control. In addition to its protean moods were all manner of orchestral effects, startling rhythms and sophisticated ‘local’ colors. One of the movements was played in a quick 5/4 meter. Exotic effects came from all quarters of the orchestra, including harp, tambourine, suspended cymbal and saxophone. The performance was fabulous and Khudyev singled out for credit a dozen individual members of the orchestra during the standing ovation at its conclusion.

ENSEMBLE MONTEREY CONDUCTOR John Anderson made it clear that he’s been itching to produce the Handel oratorio Israel in Egypt for most of his adult life. The work was first performed in London in 1739 and opened with an original first section, The Ways of Zion do Mourn, that was later deleted. Anderson used the 90-minute revised version. For the production, heard Saturday in Carmel, Cheryl Anderson’s Cantiamo! 41-voice chorus joined the enlarged 21-piece orchestra that added trombones, drums, trumpet, winds and keyboards to the core string ensemble. When all forces were engaged the sound filled every corner of All Saints Church.

The two parts of the oratorio that remain are titled Exodus and Moses’ Song. The text draws primarily on the book of Exodus, and adds passages from various psalms. While one can be amazed at the composer’s variety of effects in Moses’ Song, the first part is the more entertaining for all the tone painting depicting the Plagues of Egypt.

After a recitative set-up and a double chorus crying out to God by the oppressed Israelites, a vigorous fugue portrays the Egyptians loathing to drink water now turned to blood. The violins then hopped like frogs as the baritone described the scene in an aria, which went on to list the pestilence that afflicted men and beasts alike. A heraldic double chorus with trombones cited the flies, lice and locusts, with the violins now the buzzing flies. Beginning with a few raindrops on the violins, the chorus and full orchestra, including timpani, delivered ‘hailstones for rain’ and ‘fire mingled with the hail.’

Moses’ Song texts go over the events following the Red Sea crossing repetitiously, like so many rosary beads. Yet Handel keeps coming up with surprising musical combinations. Sandwiched between a noisy pair of double choruses was a most lovely and intimate duet for sopranos, harpsichord and strings. A duet for bass voices was set over a dotted rhythm for orchestra including winds. A coloratura tenor aria made jaunty fun in 3/8 time of the now-lost enemy’s threats. For the following soprano aria describing the wind across the sea driving the Egyptians to their watery graves only the winds of the orchestra were heard. Staccato dotted-rhythm strings gave the triumphant chorus “The people shall hear” added intensity, followed immediately by the pastoral 3/8 meter alto aria “Thou shalt bring them in.” The piece ended with a soprano solo, double chorus and full orchestra, fugal and with much coloratura all round.

Eleven members of Cantiamo!, of varying degrees of skill and experience, took solos and/or duets. Vanessa Yearsley stood out among them for her beauty of tone, polish and projection.

(Until a few years ago, two and half minutes from Israel in Egypt dated 1888 was thought to be the earliest audio recording. As you might imagine, it’s very scratchy.)

ALWAYS HUNGRY to discover what’s new in classical music, sometimes I must needs go back to consult the oracles. While they don’t change over time, I do. And so do those who by playing those designs today also put new interpretations on them. The four-movement clarinet quintets by Mozart and Brahms remain the Alpha and Omega of that rarified literature, the Brahms following the Mozart by a century, and, despite their style differences, they are patterned on the same classical templates and inspired by the greatest players of the clarinet in both generations.

Mozart famously died untimely at the age of 35. Brahms believed he had lived out his life by 60. (He died of cancer a month before his 64th birthday.) The clarinet quintets by both were written close to the ends of their lives.

The Sunday performance in Aptos by members of the Santa Cruz Chamber Players was the quintessential definition of chamber music: a small group of friends taking the pleasure of playing intimate music together. They needed the audience less than the audience needed them.

Jeff Gallagher’s mouth (embouchure) looks like it was genetically designed for the clarinet. Yet even he had to deal with daunting challenges in playing a few bars, some squeaky, from the Mozart on an 18th century replica instrument like one the composer would have known. After his remarks about the two works, and the brief sample on the replica, he picked up his modern instrument and joined his colleagues to play the two 40-minute works back to back, separated only by the intermission.

Brahms was obviously well-acquainted with the Mozart. In both quintets, the first movements dominate. They both use the classical ‘sonata-allegro’ but with unprecedented invention. Not only does the Mozart dazzle with fresh ideas but its development—the passage between the exposition and recapitulation—is like nothing else I’ve heard in Mozart or anybody else. It (the development) came into its own when the strings alone took the lead in a fughetta, recycling textures and ideas from Mozart’s earlier quartets. Soon the clarinet began to decorate the strings with a series of arpeggios. The distribution of materials made each player equally responsible for the whole. The reading took a full 15 minutes including a repeat of the development. I can’t think of a similar example in Beethoven, who is famous for his developments.

The Larghetto is Mozart at his most seductive and romantic. I should mention that Gallagher plays with no vibrato which allows the clarinet to float the most ethereal and sensual tones, like the god Aeolus himself. The Menuetto contains two ‘trios’, those usually rustic departures that nevertheless retain the 3/4 meter. The first is given to the strings, while the longer second highlights the clarinet. The finale takes the form of variations. The mournful third variation, for strings only, is in the minor key.

For the Mozart, Susan Brown played first violin with Shannon Delaney on viola. They reversed roles for the Brahms. The ensemble also included violinist Eri Borcea-Ishigaki and cellist Judy Roberts.

The first movement of the Brahms is conflicted. Set in B Minor, it starts out sounding like a lullaby with its rocking 6/8 meter. It darkens for the more dramatic second theme before relaxing back into the first. But it gets restless and moody again on its way through an expanded development.

Something similar happens in the second (Larghetto) when sad musings on the clarinet give way to the major as it grows into an anxious crescendo, only to fade back into its now-familiar first theme.

While not a minuet, the short, cheerful third (Andantino) movement, displayed a highly conversational, quasi A-B-A form in which the B is a merry romp, though it grows dark at the end. The final movement which, like the Mozart, uses theme and variations, each of which was delineated from its neighbors, offers prominent string solos. At last, the first theme of the first movement reappears before the music fades to silence. One was left to contemplate a richly complex homage to the earlier composer masterfully told by the later one, and to savor in memory the splendid instrument that inspired both.

I CONFESS that I don’t know how calling a concert “Majestic Realm” entices subscribers or last-minute ticket buyers. But somehow it seems to have worked for Sunday’s Sunset Center audience who came to hear music never before performed here. Two of the composer’s names were familiar enough, Johann Strauss, Jr. and Sergei Prokofiev. Yet it would be their works making local debuts: Strauss’ Gypsy Baron overture and Prokofiev’s Seventh Symphony. Along with William Walton’s Viola Concerto, this program turned out to be one of the best of the current Monterey Symphony season.

The Strauss opera overture, as was the custom in the 19th century, was stitched together last from melodic ideas in the opera itself. Here, as with the Prokofiev, Max Bragado conducted the orchestra from memory and with gusto.

But both Bragado and the Chilean-born soloist Roberto Diaz read their parts for the Walton, a three movement work modeled on Prokofiev’s Violin Concerto No. 1. It was premiered by Paul Hindemith who played every orchestral instrument except harp, but was best known in solo performance as violist. Indeed, the Walton also reflects the influence of Hindemith, particularly his mastery of counterpoint. (Walton even composed an orchestral variations on a theme from Hindemith’s 1940 cello concerto.)

Bragado and Diaz revealed both the feisty and the romantic aspects of the composer, the latter quality appearing only for the first time in this work with gorgeous melodies given to both solo and orchestra. In the broad andante first movement, the solo at times was subsumed by the richly active orchestral fabric. (Viola concertos are few and far between, probably for this reason.) The other Walton conceit, inspired by American jazz syncopation, charged up the scherzo-like, kaleidoscopic second movement, marked Vivo con molto preciso. In the final movement of the 26-minute performance, the interplay of soloist and orchestra matched the success of the second. Midway through the soloist could only stand by while the orchestra indulged in a symphonic fugue of brilliant design. The intersection of Walton and Hindemith was unmistakable. As the orchestral show subsided the solo viola was allowed back in as both slowed the pace and lowered the dynamic. The concerto ended with a whisper. The audience registered its approval. (One would have to have some serious memory to recall the last performance of it by the Monterey Symphony, in 1988.)

Obviously, Max Bragado loves Prokofiev’s last symphony, and he made a fine account of it. Even though the composer had suffered serious health issues by 1952, he managed to produce a fresh, even youthful work in the year before his death. This is made even better by his masterful use of the old classical forms and his brilliant orchestral palette. Nominally in the key of C-Sharp Minor, it opens with a haunted and haunting theme that is impossible to forget. The combination of high violins and low brass and winds, plus orchestral piano, delivers the unmistakable soundscape that could be the work of no other composer. Soon, a new theme, in the major, and equally unforgettable, rises to the surface. These two play out their energies in the expansive development section. The second movement is Prokofiev in his most riotous orchestration, exploding with breathtaking ideas almost as fast as one can identify them flying by. When it ended, gasps in the audience could be heard.

While well played, the slow movement, Andante espressivo, didn’t actually live up to the composer’s highest standards elsewhere in this piece. The finale, in spirit like the second movement, harkened back to Prokofiev’s earliest works. This was circus music tinged with sarcasm. Again, fresh ideas popped in and out of focus at a high clip. As the end of the symphony approached, the optimistic second theme from the first movement floated into prominence giving the performance a most satisfying conclusion. I’m guessing that many in the audience were taken by surprise at what a fine work this is, given that it inexplicably gets such little exposure.