Details:
Emily Huslander
All Asia in Cambridge, MA (Cover $5)
Thursday, 30 Apr 2009, 6:30 PM

Emily Hulslander might be one of many young Berklee students who just loves her singing. But I caught her at an open mic some months ago at Smoken Joe’s Barbeque in Brighton, and I like her. Maybe she reminds me of some kind of magical cross between the playfulness of Sophie Milman and the seriousness of Sonya Kitchell, two of my favorite current singer songwriters. I don’t know enough about her songwriting to comment in that capacity, but Emily is definitely one to watch (and hear) in the Boston music scene and well worth the Lincoln to check out on Thursday.

The Boston Symphony Orchestra (BSO) just finished a program of Brahms’ Concerto for Violin and Cello, Op. 102, and Bruckner’s (Marathon) Symphony No. 7, featuring guest conductor Hans Graf. I was fortunate enough to catch their first performance of this on Thursday night, but I was sitting far stage left. Though still in the orchestra section, I was about 26 rows back and right next to a rather noisy wall vent, which I’m really surprised about given the otherwise excellent acoustics in Symphony Hall. Nevertheless, violinist Janine Jansen and cellist Alisa Weilerstein gave a phenomenal performance of the Brahms. In hopes of getting closer and hearing the Brahms live for a second time, I went down to the Symphony Hall box office about 2 hours before the concert and hoped to get not a more central orchestra seat but a seat as close as possible to the soloists. Somehow the stars aligned and placed me in B18, which is the second row and slightly stage right, exactly where the soloists would be featured on stage. For the intimacy with these two performers, it was — absolutely — perfect.

I love the Brahms. It’s quickly becoming a favorite of mine, through it’s beautiful Andante to its humorous passages strewn throughout. The exchanges between the cello and violin were like quarreling lovers as their phrases overlapped and answered one another in rapid succession.

With that vantage point, my eyes admittedly were fixed upon Jansen and Weilerstein throughout the performance. It was clear that both personalities were present in this rendition of the music.

The proximity to Jansen was for me a masterclass performance, as I noted particularly her bowing technique on spiccato passages, double stops, and chords. She entered passages commandingly and left them gracefully. From Thursday’s performance, I recall feeling that the sound of the solo violin in Symphony Hall was slightly smaller than I had expected. It was unclear to me whether or not the problem was my expectation of orchestra-size sound from a single instrument. Nevertheless, being so close to Jansen on Tuesday allowed me to experience — in full — the power of the instrument.

Weilerstein is intensely passionate; she knew the music well, despite having the manuscript perched atop the simple folding stand in front of her. She made eye contact with Jansen in order to connect passages – she was not playing by prescribed rhythms in an arrangement as much as she was by an intimate knowledge of how transitions should sound. Eye contact with Graf was not as much for guidance as it was a two way communication that took place in the total absence of spoken language, yet it was clearly conversational. It freed the performance from the written music. It was an interpretation, which I’ve never quite understood in the context of European Classical music until that moment. Weilerstein also understood and probably enjoyed the humorous sections, as her eyebrows signaled acknowledgement of the curiosities. She listened intently to the orchestra as they played, and she seemed to really like the music.

From that close, the orchestra sounded phenomenal in quite a bizarre way. Spatial separation was distinct, almost unnatural, and the sound was completely enveloping. About 15 rows back, one gets a sense of the orchestra as a singular emanation with a wall of sound penetrating the space between the stage and your ears. The difference is almost akin to headphones versus speakers. In row B, I had on the most perfect headphones possible.

The recent performances of Brahms, from a recent performance of Symphony No. 4 to these performances of the Double Concerto have quickly combined in support of Brahms among my favorite music. These performances of the Double have been phenomenal, perhaps the best I’ve witnessed ever and among the best I’ve heard from the BSO, whose Tuesday performance was particularly grand. Jansen and Weilerstein were wonderful — I look forward to hearing them both again.

The Boston Symphony Orchestra (BSO) are currently queued up for the final performance of this week’s program, featuring virtuosi violinist Janine Jansen and cellist Alisa Weilerstein performing Brahms’ Concerto for Violin and Cello, Op. 102 (aptly named). I’m not sure if Jansen and Weilerstein have ever taken the stage together before, but they had appeared to have a wonderful chemistry during the performance and rapport after it was finished, and they both played brilliantly. I am going to try and catch Tuesday’s performance as well. What more is there to say?

On the other hand, where I have found yet another Brahms piece that I have fallen for, Bruckner’s Symphony No. 7 demonstrated to me that, apparently, Bruckner was a pretty verbose guy. Man, that piece was long. Definitely a case of too many notes for me, that night.

I was fortunate enough to catch the Boston Symphony Chamber Players in a performance this afternoon at the New England Conservatory’s exquisite Jordan Hall. Andre Previn was a guest performer/composer, as they performed Previn’s Trio for piano, flute, and bassoon. Previn also featured on the Poulenc Sextet for piano, flute, oboe, clarinet, bassoon, and horn. Other pieces in the program included the Debussy Sonata for flute, viola, and harp and Brahms’ String Quintet No. 2 in G Op. 111.

The Previn trio was surprising — it was my first encounter of the BSO doing anything modern — Previn wrote it in 1994, which is safe to call modern. The movement tempi are aptly updated in modern English: they are named Lively, Slow, and Jaunty, and the musicians were quite true to the composer’s direction. Featuring a piano, oboe, and bassoon, it was the first time I had heard this variation of a piano trio. It’s stunned me to hear, for the first time, the similarities of tone present in the bassoon and a cello. While there are obvious differences in string vibration and resonance, it was still an appropriate sound. An oboe as a substitute for the violin was far less appropriate but not unheard of. (The flute is another poor sub for the violin.) The performance itself was different, and interesting. It was clear that Previn has a sense of humor – definitely a treat to catch him in performance.

While mildly surprised by my enjoyment of the trio, I cannot say that I was very happy with either the Debussy trio or the Poulenc. I had a hard time dealing with the sounds, as I found the combination of sounds unpleasant. I found the combination of sounds on the Poulenc especially tiresome on my ears – perhaps I am not quite tuned for a combination of wind instruments playing constantly together. In the process of the Debussy, however, it was clear to me that violist Steven Ansell is incredibly talented. It’s sometimes difficult to hear violas in the full symphony, so it was nice to get a hint of Ansell’s virtuosic capabilities.

This was further evidenced by the Brahms String Quintet, in which the principals of the Boston Symphony Orchestra were all on stage for this stellar performance. Concertmaster Malcome Lowe, along with Assistant Principal Violinist Halden Martinson, Cellist Jules Eskin, and Cathy Basrak rounded out the quintet. Each member of the group shone, though I admit that I was focused on Lowe, Eskin, and Ansell primarily. Ansell had a moving solo during the Adagio, I believe, that reminded me what it was about the richness of the viola that has always intrigued me as a violinist. Rhythmically the quintet tackled several tricky passages with grace. These five voices were singing in harmonic unison – in its marvelous simplicity, the form of a small ensemble was almost entirely capable of capturing the grandeur of the larger symphony. Their performance, with near perfect execution, reminded me of yet another Brahms that I found that I enjoy tremendously.

While I had to wait patiently through the Debussy and Poulenc, I was treated with a gem of the Brahms that I’m very much hoping was recorded this afternoon, as I am already missing it as if I’ve known it forever.

I just learned about an archive of some of the first recorded music being digitized by the University of California Santa Barbara. It is available here. They have mp3 and WAV copies of the music, though no FLAC, for whatever reason. It includes classic jazz, orchestral stuff, and other stuff like spoken word. Appears to be a pretty exciting resource of early recorded music.