On January 21 I attended a concert that took place in the Florida International University’s Wertheim Performing Arts Center. The program for the night consisted of chamber music performed by the FIU Chamber Players. During the first part of the concert the music was from Latin America composers, including 5 songs by the well-known Argentinian master Alberto Ginastera. The second part of the event featured a work by one of the biggest names in the post-romantic era (and one of my ten favorite composers), Johannes Brahms.
The auditory was not even half-full, a fact that, while not good by any means for the artists, helped bring the noise factor closer to zero. We were soon introduced to our soprano for the night (Kathleen Wilson) joined by the pianist, young Jennifer Renee Snyder.
The first group of featured works was by unknown-to-me composer Carlos Guastavino. The set consisted of 2 songs (or Lieder, if I’m not wrong in using this denomination to Spanish songs written in the 20th century). I have never been a big fan of these kinds of compositions, not even of the ones by composers more familiar to me like Schubert or Mahler. The songs were brief and rather forgettable.
The second group of works was a selection of 5 songs by famed Argentinean composer Alberto Ginastera. As the night was unfolding, I felt I had chosen the wrong concert to attend, but at the same time, I thought “this is more challenging than going to a concert full of music you already like”. Anyway, the music, rather simple and short, was pleasant, and worked well as introduction for what came next, since I started to hear more adventurous, constraint-free music. While the soprano sung very well but never really impressed me, the pianist showed a lot of energy and power in her performance, practically upstaging her vocal counterpart, especially in the faster songs like “Chacarera” or “Gato”. All in all, I’ve never been able to empathize with academic-music songs (for simple vocal music, I really prefer popular genres), and this first two sets left me rather cold..
The two musicians left the stage and came back joined by three more artists: viola player Laura Wilcox, clarinetist Julian Santacoloma, and the conductor, Orlando Garcia. Garcia introduced us to the work of Aurelio de la Vega, “The Magic Labyrinth”. To explain the work, an image of the score was projected on a screen behind the stage. The score featured a rather strange, labyrinth-like figure which, with a closer look, was revealed as the actual music. Garcia explained that the work was written in such a way that the key and harmonies had to pretty much be “sensed” by the musicians, and that they had to follow the labyrinth until the end. The music started and I was surprised. This was atonal music, the kind that has never been my favorite but that I have always wanted to see performed live. The melodic ideas were few and far between; most of the time harmony took center stage as the instruments’ dialogue was rather sequential, one speaking after the other. Lots of percussive effects by otherwise non-percussive elements like the soprano’s score-holder and the body of the grand piano joined forces with very-high, twirling figures in the viola and abrupt-ending scales and phrases in the clarinet. The soprano’s voice was used as another harmonic instrument, never really singing but providing bursts of harmony (or disharmony, I should say). The piece was effective and I enjoyed it a lot. I’m not sure I’ll run to buy a recording of it, but I’m glad I was able to listen to it live.
What followed next was a composition by the conductor himself, “Parallel Universe I”. Garcia explained us that this is part of a longer work exploring parallel universes in music. The screen projected a video of a foggy, dusty gray place that looked like a cell, gradually opening the shot during the performance until we saw the entire room. The music was atonal, devoid of melody, but in this case, sadly, also devoid of interest. The constant repetition of little ideas on each of the instruments, with almost no room for any thematic exploration, or even experiments in color, left me cold. The big idea was to explore the fusion of live music with recorded music. At some points, music would sound through the speakers in the auditory, and the live ensemble would harmonize with it and play at the same time. Though a novel trick, it felt more like a gimmick to me, with little substance. It was a new and somewhat exciting experience, though, and I’m glad I could take part of it.
After the intermission, finally, traditional music came back with a vengeance, so to speak. Johannes Brahms’ Sonata in D Minor, Op. 108 for piano and violin was the closing piece of the night. What a way to end a concert! A big fan of his music for big orchestra, I’ve just started to explore the chamber side of the catalogue of the Hamburg master. I was extremely pleased with the music, beautiful, romantic, powerful and soft, menacing and soothing, performed very well by Robert Davidovici on the violin and, especially, Kemal Gekic on the piano. I think Davidovici played in a great way but his actual stage presence was lacking - I know it’s not rock or metal, but the musician really looked like a robot in front of the piano, and while music is what really matters in the end, I believe a powerful-looking performance greatly enhances the transference of emotions to the audience-. Gekic, on the other hand, was outstanding, sending us wave after wave of emotion and passion for the art. The work itself was majestic, I particularly enjoyed the last movement, during the last moments of which piano and violin looked as if they were finally trying to settle the score of an impossible battle once and for all. The second movement was a good moment for the violinist to show us his most exquisite abilities, and his great understanding of the piece. In general, the way it was played, the sonata sounded more as a violin concerto, where the orchestra consisted of only one instrument, the piano,
I left the Wertheim Center very satisfied with what I just witnessed. I had the chance to step out of my comfort zone and venture into the world of songs and atonal music, and, especially the latter, I enjoyed it a lot. And, even better, the night was closed off with a grandiose finale.