| Rassegna
By: Various |
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| Stampa
By: Various |
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| Parma
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| James Conlon conducts the San Francisco Symphony
By: Various |
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October 21-24, 2010
Critical Acclaim
"The magic Conlon had planned for his appearance with the San Francisco Symphony was a triptych of orchestral overtures by Dvorák, conceived as a single suite of pieces but soon broken up into its component parts. [The] performance, delivered with the kind of zeal that only a true champion can muster, was an exciting voyage into mostly little-known territory."
"If "Othello" proved to be the most unusual component, it was just as remarkable to hear the familiar strains of the "Carnival" Overture in its original intended context…"In Nature's Realm," a sunny pastoral, sounded pretty but not particularly original, its melody conjuring up not only the "Morning Mood" from Grieg's "Peer Gynt" but also the "Forest Murmurs" from "Siegfried." Still, Conlon and the orchestra gave it a bright overlay of sound, and collaborated on a vivid, exuberant account of the "Carnival" Overture."
"…another regular guest conductor and a favorite guest soloist had the audience at Davies cheering like sports fans all over again. James Conlon and violinist Joshua Bell are always welcome here, and if the sold-out house was probably due to Bell's reputation, Conlon certainly made everyone aware of his own formidable presence. He opened the program with a foursquare but glittering and exciting performance (wow, the brass section is sounding fabulous these days!) of Wagner's Prelude to Act I of Die Meistersinger."
"Taking three so-called overtures by Dvorak and playing them as a triptych of tone poems was the composer's original idea, called Nature, Life and Love, but it never caught on as a repertory selection…Conlon made a good case for the collection with an informative spoken introduction, and the orchestra followed his lead, making a strong impression with fine and atmospheric playing."
"The San Francisco Symphony welcomed LAO music director James Conlon to their stage for one of his trademark thoughtful and well-played programs…If there was a unifying element to the evenings program, it was overtures; though, as Conlon pointed out, those are not always what they are billed to be. First up was Wagner's prelude to Die Meistersinger von Nürnberg, which the symphony players brought to life with warmth and grandeur. It immediately brought to my mind how exciting it would be to hear that entire work on the LAO stage."
"At the other end of Saturday's performance were three Dvorak overtures, In der Natur, Carnival, and Othello…The resulting "Overture Symphony" addressed big themes including the cycle of life, and the beautiful Othello, which ended the concert was quite stirring. It's a show Conlon has done elsewhere, but it continues to please and is a real testament to his interest in providing thoughtful, challenging programming."
"James Conlon has a knack for bringing the unfamiliar to the concert hall, which is matched by his skill in addressing the audience to prepare them for the unfamiliarity without drowning them in details. For his visit to Davies Symphony Hall as guest conductor of this week's subscription concerts, this talent was applied to a presentation of Antonín Dvořák's triptych of concert overtures, published with the consecutive opus numbers 91, 92, and 93…The result was a performance that was as musically fulfilling as it was informative, providing a point of view of Dvořák that was long overdue for San Francisco audiences."
"In the context of Dvořák's experience under Wagner's baton, Conlon's selection of the opening prelude to Wagner's Die Meistersinger von Nürnberg could not have been better…Conlon brought a clarity to all of this complexity that presented this prelude as an expository introduction to the entire opera, leaving the listener hoping that, through some bizarre violation of the laws of space and time, the curtain was about to rise on the church scene of the opera's first act."
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| James Conlon conducts the Orchestra del Maggio Musicale
By: Various |
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October 14 and 16, 2010 Critical Acclaim "Endless applause for the concert dedicated to Joan Sutherland Conlon Triumphs in his Silver Anniversary with the Maggio Fiorentino Twenty five years after his debut in Florence, James Conlon returned to conduct the Requiem of Antonin Dvorak, a complex work, which is rarely heard, as demonstrated by only two previous performances in the history of Teatro del Maggio... Conlon, however, succeeded perfectly with a vigorous and inspired reading, able to tighten the listener's lengthy journey in an arc of continuous and mournful tension, at the same time highlighting the main qualities of originality in the folkloric thematic invention, the touching simplicity of certain phrases and the unique tint of melancholy in the instrumentation dominated by the woodwinds. The Orchestra of Maggio Fiorentino accompanied the performance with admirable dedication, secure and compact as they are on their best evenings, and the choir, trained by Piero Monti, was splendid in a trial of considerable challenge. The concert, dedicated to the memory of the great Joan Sutherland, who recently passed away, concluded with a very warm success for everyone and a prolonged ovation, above all, for the American conductor." La Nazione Giuseppe Rossi, October 17 2010 "The reading performed by Conlon, for this requiem, which he "loves," is pervaded by a sense of contained power and perfect equilibrium, in which every instrument of the powerful orchestra, including organ and bells, was brought out with the right emphasis while always avoiding exaggeration. At the same time, Conlon, with fluid, elegant gestures, concise but passionate, stressed its over arching symphonic breadth, sometimes indulging serenely, in the harmonious psalmody of the many popular references that characterize and are, moreover, a strong characteristic of Dvorak. The absolute protagonist is the Orchestra of the Maggio Musicale Fiorentino, and the judgment of this performance can be summarized in two words: truly optimal. A cordial success for all but, above all, and appropriately so, for the feted Conlon, who was received with a warmth that attested to the affection of the Florentine public." Operaclick Marisa Lazzari, October 14, 2010 |
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| Deutsches Symphonie-Orchester Berlin
By: Various |
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September 28 and 29, 2010
Critical Acclaim Translated from German
JAMES CONLON PROVOKES AN EARTHQUAKE IN THE PHILHARMONIE WITH HIS VERDI
"The air burned. The hall shook. The "Dies irae inferno from Verdi's Requiem bit into the ears of the audience. James Conlon, the American opera specialist, literally shook the Last Judgment Day out of the earth. Pain, anger and sadness ate into the expressions of the solo singers. Franco Farina stood in at the Philharmonie for the tenor Pavel Chernoch. Feverishly and conscious of risk he threw himself into the infamous introductory quartet of the Kyrie. The timbre of his golden tenor fit organically into the extraordinary ensemble. Julianna di Giacomo's full soprano, Maria Prudenskaja's pithy mezzo, Vitalij Kowaljow's elegant bass -- each voice in itself was unmistakable and yet fit perfectly into the quartet. The impeccable Deutsche-Symphonie Orchester literally glowed with the joy of playing. Thanks to Conlon THE DSO OPENS ITS SERIES "NIGHT SHAPES" "Admittedly, one would appreciate enormously on this occasion hearing the Verdi requiem performed again by professional groups like the DSO and the radio choir, since the raucous "Dies irae" has often served in Berlin over the years as mass animation for enthusiastically screaming amateur choirs that increase the volume of the trumpets, base and snare drums more than does them any good. James Conlon, for his part, did not make of the cacophony of the "Dies irae" the usual decibel orgy. The conductor left open possibilities for crescendo, which he then employed effectively elsewhere, and gave the performance with well thought out measures and precisely placed hesitancies a more tempered pace."
"Conlon succeeded impressively from the start with the opening "Kyrie eleison," with its combination of orchestra, choir and four soloists, which he clearly differentiated in their placement on the stage -- a perfect coordination of sounds that could readily be achieved with Simon Halsey's magnificent radio choir."
THE DSO WITH JAMES CONLON AT THE PHILHARMONIC
"How unendingly delicate, almost hallucinogenic, did the Rundfunkchor (direction: Simon Halsey) sound at the beginning of the piece and with what nuance did James Conlon, who proved through the entire evening to be a master of subtlety, elicit phrases from the strings of almost transcendent genuinity. A tranquility that sets in only gradually and that only in the "Dies irae" is exposed to dramatic controversy. And Conlon understands Verdi here in the best romantic sense: the suffering in the scenery of the last judgment stems not at all from religious dogma or institutional religion, but from a deeply human artistic religion. Verdi wrote his requiem for the poet Alessandro Manzoni, who died in 1873, and Conlon consequently restrains orchestral dogma. He leaves space for the soloists to give shape to the human tragedy in song."
REVIEW: DSO:NACHTGESTALTEN
"The listeners in the Philharmonie experienced an evening which, under the direction of James Conlon, captured their attention in an extraordinary manner - long after the last tones of the Libera me, silence reigned, and then enthusiastic applause followed. The cheering was meant for a quartet of excellent soloists with Juliana Di Giacomo, Marina Prudenskaja, Franco Farina and Vitalij Kowaljow, the Rundfunk choir, and the Deutscher Symphonieorchester. The orchestra manifested in this complex work its forceful radiance. It comes across as fresh and of a great ability to be inspired, as already in the first two concerts of the season. Decisive against all the old attempts at financial slight of hand tricks with which there has been speculation about cost cuts and consolidation."
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| Ravinia Festival
By: Various |
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Summer 2010
Features and Critical Acclaim
Feature: Conlon's Wagner detox transitions conductor for flexible CSO summer at Ravinia
"Conlon and the CSO came in for plenty of applause on their own, not least for their mettlesome account of the Prologue to "Götterdämmerung", in which dawn broke with blinding radiance before Siegfried set forth on his fateful Rhine journey."
Feature: Conlon conducts his 60th birthday at Ravinia
"James Conlon led a bracing, emotionally rich performance of Bernstein's symphony Sunday night…Conlon is among our finest Bernstein conductors, and he drew playing that balanced the urban loneliness-as in the wonderful wind playing of the introduction-with the driving populist music. The performance culminated in a coda that felt just right, conveying a sense of catharsis and Bernstein's stoic lyric strength without going over the top."
"The richly melodic music of Sergei Rachmaninoff remains a summer programming staple, and a guaranteed way of packing in the masses, as was the case once again Wednesday night at Ravinia. Yet James Conlon found a way to provide some artful backspin on Rachmaninoff by programming the two works that led to the composer's breakdown and his psychological and artistic recovery… Conlon showed a firm overall feel for [Rachmaninoff Symphony No. 1] this dark, nerve-wracked music and led a fiery, combustible performance that put across the explosive outbursts, rhythmic instability and sheer strangeness effectively. Even with most of the CSO principals off in the festival's waning weeks, the orchestra rose to the occasion with notably gleaming and powerful playing, the CSO brass, in particular, sounding like its old technically assured and cohesive self."
"Give James Conlon credit for paying attention to significant forgotten voices of 20th century European music, composers silenced by the Nazi regime or dislocated by the Second World War, who later were summarily consigned to the dustbin of history. The Ravinia music director performed his latest rescue mission Tuesday in Ravinia's Martin Theatre where he was joined by the Chicago Chamber Musicians and other artists for a program loosely related to that investigation - instrumental and vocal works from the between-wars era by Czech, Austrian and French Jews who were deeply influenced by American jazz and, in the case of Darius Milhaud, South American popular music."
"Mozart lovers might well believe they have died and gone to operatic heaven this weekend at Ravinia, where James Conlon is leading concert performances of two of the three Mozart masterpieces based on Lorenzo da Ponte librettos, "Cosi Fan Tutte" and "The Marriage of Figaro."… Conlon and friends gave the cheering audience their money's worth, and then some, in a sparkling and engaging performance."
"Ingredients for a birthday party: Take two Mozart operas, stir in some expert soloists, combine with the Chicago Symphony Orchestra then add a pinch of nostalgia in the presence of a beloved, soon-to-retire singer. That was the recipe followed by James Conlon, music director of the Ravinia Festival, to celebrate his own 60th birthday. He conducted back-to-back concert performances of "Cosi fan tutte" and "Le Nozze di Figaro" - heard on Saturday and Sunday afternoons - that set a musical standard any opera house would envy… Both afternoons the orchestra sounded superb as Conlon…worked his way lovingly through the scores."
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| 2010 Cincinnati May Festival
By: Various |
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(For the full review please click the publication name) Critical Acclaim "The eighty-ninth edition of the Cincinnati May Festival rolled like an irresistible Juggernaut into Music Hall for a series of choral concerts that culminated on May 22 with a concert of staggering proportions and impact. Music director James Conlon celebrated his thirty-first festival in grand style. While not eclipsing those gigantic Handelian festivals of the nineteenth century, America's premier choral festival (self-proclaimed) went out literally with merry tintinnabulation, cannon shots and choral splendor…
Conlon, who has frequently presented operas in concert in Cincinnati, has a personal penchant for Russian music. This concert combined both those elements, with Rachmaninoff's one-act Aleko, the Prologue to Mussorgsky's Boris Godunov, and the Tchaikovsky 1812 Overture. Aleko was new to Cincinnati, and Conlon's burnished-bronze presentation received an enthusiastic welcome from the sold-out house of 3,400. The Cincinnati Symphony played with silken tone from the strings and radiant glory from the brass. Conlon easily captured the melancholy foreboding of the opera's prelude, then ratcheted up tempos and excitement for the two dances. Then it was back to more Russian doom and gloom, tensely Romantic."
"Conlon led both the work's [Mozart's Mass in C Minor] serene and its exuberant moments with well-judged tempos and beauty of phrasing, and the choral sound was refined and energized."
"This year's festival has been a steady crescendo to Saturday's blockbuster finale, which featured two hits from Russian music, along with a rarity: Rachmaninoff's obscure but terrific little opera, "Aleko."…Music director James Conlon, who this week renewed his contract with the festival to 2013 for a record 34 years, led his massive forces with unflagging inspiration all evening. His program merged two elements that have become staples of his tenure here: concert-version opera and Russian music…An energized Conlon led the forces with intensity, drama and sweep, inspiring vibrant playing from the Cincinnati Symphony. The chorus was in its element in these brilliant anthems of glory and the prayerful Pilgrims' Chorus."
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| Critical Acclaim for LA Opera's Ring Operas conducted by James Conlon
By: Various |
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(For the full review please click the publication name) Das Rheingold
"Conlon conducted a respectful, sweeping performance. He got lush and lovely textures from the orchestra…"
"…musically, there's much to admire, from the strong conducting of James Conlon and the high quality of the orchestra to excellent work by some individual singers."
"James Conlon led the L.A. Opera Orchestra in a calm and possessed reading in the pit. At first, it seemed a little too poised, but then it became clear. This was an intimate, detailed unexaggerated, almost chamber music reading, clean and pure."
"In an attempt to simulate the ambience of the Bayreuth Festspielhaus, black fabric covered the pit, hiding the orchestra. What emerged from the unseen ensemble was sublime. Music director James Conlon elicited supreme performances from his players that hit the mark throughout, from the mystical opening evocation of the Rhine to the shimmering entrance of the gods into their new, fateful home."
Die Walküre
"The musical performance was strong over all, with James Conlon drawing dark-hued, weighty and supple playing from the orchestra."
"James Conlon leads the L.A. Opera Orchestra in a polished, well paced and intelligent account of the score. Intimacy, clarity and balance are his thing, and he never allows momentum to sag."
Siegfried
"Mr. Conlon drew resonant, colorful playing from the orchestra…"
"In the guise of a controversial new production, what director-designer Achim Freyer, music director James Conlon and Los Angeles Opera have actually achieved is a moving, sympathetic Siegfried that faithfully serves the music, the text and the psychological intent of the third installment of Wagner's Ring cycle…Conlon's conducting was generous and thoroughly considered. As ferocious and fast as much of this music has to be, he was always able to finagle it into a loving relationship with the singing."
Götterdämmerung
"Breathlessly conducting nearly five hours' worth of music, the energetic James Conlon never flagged… Conlon, who received the evening's loudest ovation, conducted in service of the drama. But he became expansive at the end, and the orchestra, fine all night, turned resplendent. No set, I suspect, has ever been torn down more memorably or movingly."
"James Conlon led a polished and poised orchestra which remained kind to the singers…the richness and complexity of the score were well served."
"But there was no let-down in the music-making department. James Conlon, at an achievement level perhaps equal to Valery Gergiev's or Jimmy Levine's of a decade ago, culled all the dramatic majesty and lyrical gorgeousness from his orchestra one might want (its suavity, power and dimension broken only by the occasional bobble from an exposed horn)."
"Musically, this was a very satisfying evening. Conductor James Conlon continues to be the hero of the show leading a rock solid performance from the orchestra who sounded great."
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| Critical Acclaim for LA Opera's The Stigmatized conducted by James Conlon
By: Various |
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Franz Schreker's The Stigmatized
"The Stigmatized (Die Gezeichneten in the original German) is the latest entry in LA music director James Conlon's ongoing Recovered Voices project…Conlon conducted his forces with a dedication and passion that may restore the composer to common currency."
"The best selling of "The Stigmatized" came, as always with the "Recovered Voices" project, from the pit.' Music director James Conlon's passion for the work meant a convincing emphasis on the sumptuous atmosphere and dramatic character of the score."
"Conductor James Conlon, who has spearheaded Recovered Voices, steered the orchestra through the thickets with this usual balance of commitment and poise."
"[The] performance was awash in the color and lush expression appropriate for Schreker's undulant writing, marking a high-water mark for the orchestra Conlon has labored to refine since arriving here as music director in 2006. Just hearing the music unfold in such a committed reading — the conductor kept the musical line taut, never allowing the players to wallow in the score's riches -- enabled one to understand why Schreker is said to have been Richard Strauss's great rival in the second and third decades of the 20th century…Conlon deserves credit for bringing such a radiant score to full flower."
"A number of hurdles along the way nearly sidelined LA's Die Gezeichneten (a hard-to-translate word usually rendered in English as The Marked Ones or The Branded), making even more impressive the tireless advocacy — and, at the premiere, the penetrating musical leadership — of LA Music Director James Conlon, a specialist in this sliver of musical culture that provides the link between Mahler and the Second Vienna School, whose idea it was. The sheer elevation of this astounding work…might stimulate its ecstatic, four-night audience to demand more such fare. Even if not, 10,000 opera fanatics will have a memory they are unlikely ever to forget."
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| Critical Acclaim for LA Opera's Götterdämmerung conducted by James Conlon
By: Various |
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(For the full review please click the publication name)
"Breathlessly conducting nearly five hours' worth of music, the energetic James Conlon never flagged…Conlon, who received the evening's loudest ovation, conducted in service of the drama. But he became expansive at the end, and the orchestra, fine all night, turned resplendent. No set, I suspect, has ever been torn down more memorably or movingly."
"Yet this Ring, no matter how it is judged, is a landmark — especially for the United States where it is the first experience of radical Wagnerian Regieoper yet encountered. And even those who prefer traditional Wagner could not withhold their praise for an exemplary cast that under the director of veteran Wagnerian James Conlon who made this a memorable Ring from its beginning a season ago to its conclusion on the Easter weekend. It's clear that Conlon cares and that he was out to give Los Angeles — and the United States — a Ring to remember. The production is not only a singular triumph for Los Angeles Opera, it is further a milestone in the staging of Wagner in America… Conlon evoked an exuberance from his spectacular orchestra that ended the performance with the metaphysical consolation that Nietzsche called the essence of Greek tragedy."
"James Conlon led a polished and poised orchestra which remained kind to the singers…the richness and complexity of the score were well served."
"But there was no let-down in the music-making department. James Conlon, at an achievement level perhaps equal to Valery Gergiev's or Jimmy Levine's of a decade ago, culled all the dramatic majesty and lyrical gorgeousness from his orchestra one might want (its suavity, power and dimension broken only by the occasional bobble from an exposed horn)."
"Musically, this was a very satisfying evening. Conductor James Conlon continues to be the hero of the show leading a rock solid performance from the orchestra who sounded great."
"And glorious, indeed, was the music yesterday. Music Director James Conlon has been a bedrock of strength and sensitivity for the entire cycle and yesterday was his best work to date; his ovation was even more massive than Freyer's. Conlon's pacing during the Prelude and Siegfried's Rhine Journey had a spot-on sense of urgency but he was even more impressive in the lengthy conclusion to Act I in which he maintained the tension of the duet between Waltrute and Brünnhilde with unflagging zeal. Siegfried's Funeral Music was majestic and the Immolation Scene, with that radiant Redemption Through Love conclusion, brought the entire production to a triumphant conclusion. The unexpected star was the LA Opera Orchestra, which has grown into the Ring music with each succeeding production, culminating in a truly first-rate performance yesterday."
"[Götterdämmerung] is an endurance test, and everyone came through with flying colors, especially Maestro James Conlon."
"James Conlon elicited some of the most thrilling and satisfying sounds from the LA Opera Orchestra I have ever heard. Their tone was full, warm, generous, and sparkled with the sort of incandescent patina that only the finest orchestras are capable of producing."
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| James Conlon and Lisa de la Salle play Prokofiev
By: Mark Swed |
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LOS ANGELES TIMES March 5, 2010 Thursday night, James Conlon crossed the street. And in so doing, he temporarily forsook a Germany caught up in its own destructive influences to explore the great Soviet experiment in Russia. The intersection was 1st and Grand. Conlon, who is music director of Los Angeles Opera, soon will be Teutonically absorbed in the pit of the Dorothy Chandler Pavilion for many months with Wagner’s “Ring” Cycle and also Franz Schreker’s “The Stigmatized,” which is part of the company’s “Recovered Voices” project of reviving German operas repressed by the Nazis. But for a guest appearance this week with the Los Angeles Philharmonic at Walt Disney Concert Hall, Conlon turned to Prokofiev. The program consisted of dramatically compelling performances of some of the Russian composer’s most brilliant (as well as least troubled or troubling) scores from his two Soviet periods. On the first half were two early works, the First Piano Concerto and “Classical” Symphony of a dazzling young composer caught up in the sweeping changes pulsing through Russian life in the second decade of the 20th century. After intermission, Conlon turned to excerpts from the ballet “Romeo and Juliet,” composed in 1935 and part of Prokofiev’s repatriation with his homeland after a number of years in the West. Many of those expatriate years were spent in France, and the big news Thursday happened to be the Disney debut of a young pianist from Cherbourg. Though only 21, Lise de la Salle is already a Prokofiev old hand. She’s made several first-rate recordings, including a Prokofiev disc. In 2008, she played Prokofiev’s First Concerto with the L.A. Philharmonic at the Hollywood Bowl. Dressed in a bright blue gown, hair back, she appeared pleasantly cosmopolitan, looking, as she walked on stage, as though she could be strolling along a fashionable Parisian boulevard. It’s all a disguise. She is a pianist of steel. Her tone is hard, glittery, crystal clear. Her fingers are long, slender and very fast, very accurate, dazzlingly percussive. She is also nearly the same age Prokofiev was when the composer, still in the conservatory, used the concerto to announce himself on St. Petersburg’s musical scene as a budding modernist with a startling keyboard technique. Some thought him mad, some a genius. He was still learning his way around the orchestra, which is overlarge and somewhat clumsily used, and Conlon did not hold back. De la Salle is no Russian pounder, but she remained so rhythmically focused and precise that she seldom had any trouble being heard. She was not showy. She played with little body movement or facial expression. But serious to the task at hand, she proved all the more mesmerizing for being so. Indeed, hers was so complete a performance that all that was lacking was an encore. Her Prokofiev recordings include the Toccata, Opus 11, written just after the concerto, and also piano transcriptions of six pieces from “Romeo and Juliet,” all tailor-made for the occasion. In the “Classical” Symphony and Conlon’s own selection of 11 numbers from "Romeo and Juliet," he emphasized a big sound, dug-in playing, strongly etched phrases and rich instrumental colors. The ballet, in particular, was epic and heroic; Romeo died as grandly as Wagner kills off Siegfried. So perhaps Conlon didn’t travel so far across 1st Street after all. At least it could seem that way in comparison with Esa-Pekka Salonen’s lighter more luminous performance of his selection of excerpts from the same ballet three years ago, which were recorded live on DG Concerts. But the heavier Conlon achieved a ravishing atmosphere, and the thunder, when it arrived, had the power to do real damage. And the orchestra sounded absolutely delighted to be able to throw one sonic knockout punch after another. |
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| James Conlon’s RIGOLETTO is unforgettable
By: Paolo Isotta |
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CORRIERE DELLA SERA Published January 17, 2010 He is nearly 60 years old and looks like a young boy: slight, elegant. He is Maestro James Conlon, conducting La Scala’s latest Rigoletto, which opened on January 15. Of course, when the protagonist is Leo Nucci, making his 440th appearance in the title role, one has ears only for him. But Conlon deserves just as much attention. Just completing Wagner’s entire Ring, he moves with ease to the most opposite concept possible of music theatre. He speaks Italian perfectly, as is clear from his relentless pursuit of the “parola scenica,” (the vivid, expressive word), which today’s singers seem to avoid as if it were none of their business. It goes without saying that Leo Nucci is a master of the “parola scenica,” and his voice, which can be tender and pliable or powerful, carries even when the orchestral texture is at its most dense. But a Rigoletto like this, thanks to the musical direction of James Conlon, is not to be forgotten. He is an authoritative maestro, and manages to repair, for the time being, the Scala orchestra, from the strings to the brass. He possesses a perfect conception of the dramaturgical connection between tension and release; he knows and applies interpretive “traditions” like the conductors of another generation. Moreover, his mastery of the score is ironclad, as is immediately evident from the elegance with which he conducts the archaic dances in the first scene and the Duke’s obscene approach to the Countess Ceprano. In short, Conlon is one of the maestros who should have a regular place in every season and in the most diverse repertory. His success when “gathering the scattered branches” in Rigoletto is proof thereof. If the title role features Leo Nucci, I think that success is ensured; [he is] so nice and kind, a savory conversationalist around the table as well as a scholar of acoustics on a professional level, and from him emanates a reverential awe, which encourages the whole cast to give their very best. The example of his thoroughness is that of one who never gives up studying and not that of turning up just for the dress rehearsal. With Elena Mosuc, who interprets Gilda, we have a queen of coloratura (her Caro nome is a model), but a singer who knows nothing about an articulate production of sound, so that all her words are incomprehensible. As Monterone, Ernesto Panariello is mighty, and Marco Spotti as Sparafucile appears fearsome and mysterious. The Duke is Stefano Secco, who “pushes” a bit too much, and his utterly beloved Maddalena is Mariana Pentcheva.
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| The Reemergence of Zemlinsky's "MERMAID"
By: George Loomis |
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MusicalAmerica.com July 17, 2008 ASPEN, CO --“Thanks for coming, and thanks for staying,” said James Conlon from the stage, as the second half of the Aspen Festival Orchestra’s July 13 concert was about to start. He had earlier presided over the Sibelius Violin Concerto with Sarah Chang, and now chose to offer some remarks about the concert’s remaining work, Alexander Zemlinsky’s “Die Seejungfrau [The Mermaid]: Symphonic Fantasy after Hans Christian Andersen.” The Benedict Music Tent had been nearly full for the Sibelius, and there was a modest trickle of audience attrition during intermission. But those who stayed can only have felt invigorated by Conlon’s remarks and, more to the point, by hearing Zemlinsky’s 40-minute, three-movement tone poem. Conlon’s tireless championing of Zemlinsky and other composers whose careers (and in some cases lives) were destroyed by the Nazis is well known. But actually hearing him discuss and conduct this piece was truly inspiring. He looks forward to the day, he said, when Zemlinsky is as frequently performed as Sibelius. That goal is still in the distance, but the reemergence of this composer is, in fact, progressing quite satisfactorily. When the Festival Orchestra was asked how many had played “The Mermaid” before, surely more hands went up than were expected. And the biographical facts Conlon mentioned—that Zemlinsky was Schoenberg’s brother-in-law and only teacher, that he was less than handsome but still had a romantic entanglement with Alma Schindler (later Alma Mahler), that in 1938 he left Austria for New York and died in obscurity four years later—are beginning to have a familiar ring. Zemlinsky wrote “The Mermaid” in the aftermath of Alma’s rejection of him in favor of Mahler. According to Conlon, the composer identified with the title character, whose love for the human prince she rescued from a shipwreck went unrequited. The Mermaid experiences a transfiguration into an immortal, which Conlon likened to Zemlinsky’s resolve, after the breakup, to devote himself to art. The conductor alluded to a passage midway through the second movement, which recurs near the end of the third, that symbolizes the Mermaid’s transformation, and he compared it to the Liebestod in “Tristan.” If I identified it correctly, it was a lush string passage, with harp accompaniment, in which a fervent melody is heard in the cellos. Conlon did not say so, but it may bear mentioning that the Liebestod occurs in “Tristan” at roughly the analogous structural points: at the climax of the Act 2 Love Duet and at the end of the three-act opera. Of course, the work is only nominally about Zemlinsky; some of the music, especially in the first movement, is quite obviously descriptive of Andersen’s mermaid -- the low-pitched scales at the beginning suggesting the depths of the sea, a lovely solo violin tune probably representing the lady herself and especially the tumultuous orchestral depiction of the shipwreck. But it is better not to get too bogged down with linking music to story and instead focus on Zemlinsky’s masterful skills as a symphonist. Especially striking is the way he transforms themes. A good half dozen occur repeatedly throughout the three movements. Yet they are presented with sufficient expressive and orchestral variety so as not to seem redundant. Experiencing “The Mermaid” is a little like seeing a play in which each act traces the same action but from a different point of view. For instance, the second movement, which represents festivities in the palace of the Mer-king, at once establishes a totally new, celebratory mood, with its shimmering strings, bells, triangle and glockenspiel. Yet it also uses a fanfare theme that had previously been associated with the shipwreck. It’s all a big, lush, post-Romantic orchestral extravaganza. Conlon, conducting from memory, masterminded a full-bodied, colorful and gripping reading that benefited from fine contributions by solo winds and strings. It is possible to imagine a performance of even greater orchestral splendor, but this one was more than enough to put the work across vivid ly. As for the Sibelius, Chang played eloquently and delved deeply into the concerto’s expressive content. The very opening solo statement started from nothing and grew into something strongly emotional. I have always found the first movement to be a rambling, even random assortment of ideas, and a very gloomy one besides -- a condition steadfastly maintained by the second movement. The rhythmically charged third movement finally gets the piece going, and Chang was often technically dazzling in it, though I have heard it played with more panache. The audience loved her performance, as well they might. But it was the Zemlinsky that made the afternoon for me. |
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| Dancers Bring New Life to Scores Banned by Nazis | |
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NEW YORK TIMES Published: December 18, 2007 Much of the history of dance lies in the history of music. Now and again something happens to make us reconsider that history. One such event occurred over the weekend when, in a brilliantly enterprising program at the Juilliard School, the conductor James Conlon, the Juilliard Orchestra and Juilliard Dance presented three world premieres choreographed to long-forgotten scores, written from 1911 to 1935 by German composers whose work the Nazis had banned. The three scores were by Franz Schreker (1879-1934), Alexander von Zemlinsky (1871-1942), and Erwin Schulhoff (1894-1942). Though I had heard some Zemlinsky music, Schreker’s and Schulhoff’s names were new to me. And Schulhoff’s score, “Ogelala” (Op. 53, “Ballettmysterium”), which closed the program, proved to be a major discovery and prompted the most remarkable dance. Schulhoff, who was denied employment after the Germans occupied Czechoslovakia and whose applications to emigrate were blocked, died of tuberculosis in a Nazi camp. His 1925 ballet “Ogelala,” a large-scale example of what has been called neoprimitivism, was based on Mexican themes discovered by ethnomusicological research. You can hear what it owes to the dramatic modernism of Stravinsky’s “Rite of Spring” and its (accidental) resemblance to Bartok’s “Miraculous Mandarin” (which had its premiere a year later) and still find it a cauldron of newly exciting rhythm and varied sonority. I recommend it for consideration by any dance company with a large orchestra. At Juilliard the choreographer Robert Battle, staging this score under the title “No Longer Silent,” rose to its demands with a dance that evoked multiple primitive rituals in complex and modern terms. From the very start he seizes attention with his skill in handling four groups moving in different rhythms, and from then on he kept his stage society compellingly — and always mysteriously — subdivided, often isolating individuals. Pounding machinelike rhythms, imagery of shame or torment and more than one self-immolating dance solo succeeded another in structures that told not one story but suggested many. His dancers were dressed in black. Feet, hands and faces often gleamed out against the surrounding darkness. Nicole Pierce’s wide range of modern lighting effects, sometimes silhouetting the dancers and shining lights at the audience, often lighting the dancers from new angles, kept changing the drama. In the final section Mr. Battle and his dancers resorted to one or two clichés, notably the audible but stagey gasps that accompanied some “possessed” dances, and the silent scream presented by one entire group as the work ended. Nevertheless “No Longer Silent” looked better than many new stagings for major dance companies. I immediately imagined the Alvin Ailey company, for which Mr. Battle already choreographs, staging this to great effect. For the choreographers Adam Hougland and Nicolo Fonte, the main problem was that they were staging nondance music that would have vexed the most musical of choreographers. Mr. Hougland’s “Prelude to a Drama” used Schreker’s overture to his 1913 “Gezeichneten” (“The Marked Ones”), to have its American premiere in 2010 with the Los Angeles Opera; Mr. Fonte’s “Proximity Effect” was set to Zemlinsky’s “Sinfonietta,” Op. 23 (1935). Mr. Hougland, coping with a score that has any number of climaxes in quick succession, employed dance movements and structures of routine modern-dance intensity, though with an ear that clearly responded to the music’s changing moods. Mr. Fonte’s use of stage space, dramatic physical stance and gesture, and changing subgroups brought out the Expressionist pressures in Zemlinsky’s music, but often without serious response to its detail. At every point the Juilliard dancers looked skilled, attractive and extraordinarily committed. Mr. Conlon’s conducting of the Juilliard musicians ensured that the music was central to the experience of all three works. The ovations that followed each work peaked when the musicians and Mr. Conlon joined all the dancers onstage.
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| CSO and Conlon honor Zemlinsky in 'Silence' series RAVINIA | Weekend continues with Mozart, Mahler enthalling listeners | |
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By Bryant Manning Ravinia music director James Conlon vows to offer classical programming this summer for all tastes, but not at the expense of rediscovering forgotten music. Conlon's "Breaking the Silence" series, which explores unsung composers victimized during the Third Reich, is already positively shaping his Ravinia tenure. In Conlon's first year as music director in 2005, he presented works by Victor Ullmann and last year Erwin Schulhoff, both of whom died in concentration camps. Conlon believes this year's composer, the Austrian Alexander Zemlinsky (1871-1942), is the greatest of all composers erased as a result of the Holocaust. Zemlinsky fled Europe in 1939 for New York, but soon contracted pneumonia and died alone three years later. Schoenberg admired Zemlinsky and prophesied that "his time will come," to which Conlon responded "now" during his brief pre-concert lecture. The "Lyric Symphony" (1924) made its stunning CSO and Ravinia debuts Saturday night to a sparse crowd in the grand pavilion. The symphony separates into seven movements, alternately exchanged between soprano and baritone. This love story draws from various poems by Bengali writer Rabindrath Tagore, with the lovers portrayed magnificently by Christine Brewer and Bo Skovhus. While the two never harmonized, Brewer's rich Wagnerian soprano paired perfectly with Skovhus' warm baritone. Zemlinsky's semi-dissonant orchestral writing brought in influences from Debussy to Mahler while never sounding derivative. The Beaux Arts Trio also performed an elegant reading of Beethoven's Concerto in C Major for Violin, Cello and Piano, Op. 56 ("Triple Concerto"). Cellist Antonio Meneses, violinist Daniel Hope and founding member and pianist Menahem Pressler all shone as soloists. Pressler's delicate and understated pianism approximated the pianofortes in Beethoven's time. Friday night's concert billed popular works by Mozart and Mahler. The inclusion of the Violin Concerto No. 5 in A Major, K. 219 ("Turkish") felt unnecessary, though (in part because Mahler's fifth is substantial enough for an entire evening). With recordings of this concerto surfacing everywhere, a live performance needs to say something fresh or should at least offer listeners a solid, animated rendition. The small orchestra's tentative opening of the first movement, allegro aperto (cheerful and open), dragged along instead of celebrating some of Mozart's happiest moments. Veteran Ravinia performer Pinchas Zukerman drew out an attractive but uninspiring sound as soloist. A few unwelcome notes in the work's cadenzas -- as written by Daniel Barenboim -- even made Zukerman inspect his instrument with puzzlement. The CSO's long relationship with the Mahler symphonies continues with Conlon offering a multiyear cycle, with the No. 5 and No. 6 performed this summer. Friday night the Symphony No. 5 in C-sharp Minor was superbly performed and cast a seismic quake over the calm surroundings of Ravinia. Forceful dialogue between trumpets and trombones characterize this symphony, and who better leading them than CSO brassmen, notably trumpeter Christopher Martin and trombonist Jay Friedman? Bryant Manning is a local free-lance critic |
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| Conlon's mini-Zemlinsky fest is a series ripe with potential | |
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By John von Rhein James Conlon's "Breaking the Silence" series of works banned by the Third Reich and overlooked during the postwar years has given Ravinia audiences some minor curiosities mixed with worthwhile discoveries these past two summers. But Viktor Ullmann and Erwin Schulhoff, the previous subjects of his revival efforts, were not front-rank composers, whereas Alexander Zemlinsky, this year's honoree, was. So Conlon's mini-Zemlinsky festival, which began over the weekend, holds a good deal of musical promise. As the main event of the Chicago Symphony Orchestra's first residency weekend of the season, the conductor introduced Ravinia to Zemlinsky's best-known piece, the "Lyric Symphony." Zemlinsky wears his debt to Mahler's "Das Lied von der Erde" openly. Both song-symphonies set Eastern texts (here poems by Rabindranath Tagore), alternating male and female solos. Mahler's falls into six independent sections while Zemlinsky's is structured as a continuously evolving work in seven sections. Mahler's work represents a farewell to life; the "Lyric Symphony" represents a subliminal farewell to a love affair Zemlinsky had with a much younger female student. It was a hot night at Ravinia and Zemlinsky's overheated post-Romanticism upped the mercury more than a few degrees. The Viennese composer took the swollen rhetoric of early Schoenberg, ladling on his own saturated harmonies, sumptuously colorful orchestral writing and vocal parts of Wagnerian scope. Zemlinsky's melodies wind around shifting tonal centers but never quite blossom into memorable tunes. Lacking Mahler's musical genius, Zemlinsky's lush song-symphony is rather like a jewel-encrusted palace that houses rather nondescript furnishings. Still, I don't wish to disparage such an alluring wallow in late-Romantic sound, especially with an interpreter of Conlon's authority and understanding in charge (he has recorded a vast amount of Zemlinsky's music for EMI), and with a virtuoso ensemble so giving as the CSO. Christine Brewer poured out the difficult soprano solos with the huge, gleaming, unforced tones of an Isolde; she'll be back Wednesday at Ravinia for Zemlinsky's "Florentine Tragedy." Equally impressive was Bo Skovhus, who savored both lyrical introspection and dramatic ferocity in the sections for baritone voice. Also on Saturday, it was good to welcome back to Ravinia the latest incarnation of the famed Beaux Arts Trio (joining the veteran pianist Menahem Pressler are violinist Daniel Hope and cellist Antonio Meneses), even if its reading of the Beethoven "Triple" Concerto did not prove as vital or spontaneous as its encore, a movement of Dvorak's "Dumky" Piano Trio. I took a pass on Conlon's Mahler Fifth Symphony Friday at Ravinia to catch an interesting choral program by the Grant Park Orchestra and Chorus at Millennium Park. Unfortunately, conductor Christopher Bell and his worthy forces had to battle fierce competition from helicopters, ambulances, police sirens and crowd noise from Taste of Chicago at nearby Butler Field. Ah, the delights of summer in the city! But the Grant Parkers soldiered on, and what one could hear of the featured work -- James MacMillan's "Cantos Sagrados" ("Sacred Songs"), in its revised version for chorus and orchestra -- was impressive. The three poems that make up the text -- by Ariel Dorfman and Ana Maria Mendoza -- concern political repression in Latin America, specifically the unidentified victims of fascist regimes who disappear without a trace. This is powerful, even disturbing stuff, made more so by the composer's musically telling responses to the English and Latin words. Bell and friends made the score feel as stinging as a slap in the face. |
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| Conlon-led CSO make Zemlinsky a winner | |
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By John von Rhein If Alexander Zemlinsky's music ever is to gain the foothold in the active repertory it deserves, it needs passionate advocates. It has found one in Ravinia music director James Conlon, who is arguing strongly for the Viennese composer's merits at the Chicago Symphony Orchestra's summer home, where on Wednesday he led a convincing reading of Zemlinsky's luridly decadent shocker, "A Florentine Tragedy" (1915). Based on an Oscar Wilde play, the one-act opera holds a Freudian mirror to events in the composer's life and that of his Viennese circle, including his student and lover, Alma Schindler, who dumped him to run away with Gustav Mahler. The plot suggests Zemlinsky was working out his disappointed romantic longing: Simone, a middle-age merchant who finds his wife, Bianca, is betraying him with Guido, a young prince, strangles the lover and improbably rekindles his wife's ardor. Zemlinsky's hourlong score is very nearly a dramatic monologue for baritone, with brief exchanges between Bianca and her lover. The score's debts to Mahler and Strauss are evident in its piling up of melodramatic gestures, perfumed orchestral textures and chromatic vocal lines bathed in lush Expressionism. If you adore Strauss' "Salome" and the operas of Erich Korngold, you should adore Zemlinsky's seductive sound-world. James Johnson spat out Simone's killer role tirelessly and effectively, while soprano Christine Brewer, as Bianca, and tenor Anthony Dean Griffey, as Guido, poured out their voices stalwartly. The three voices were unnecessarily amplified in the pavilion. Conlon was the true hero of the performance, integrating the orchestra's luxuriant, colorful but never muddy textures with the singers' arching phrases. So far his Zemlinsky fest is batting two for two. No such luck with the concert's opening work, Tchaikovsky's Piano Concerto No. 1, which the soloist, longtime Ravinia favorite Misha Dichter, tore through seemingly on autopilot, as if he had a Metra train to catch. The Catalan viol virtuoso Jordi Savall brought his early music group Hesperion XXI to the Martin Theatre on Tuesday for their Ravinia debut in an absorbing program of medieval songs and instrumental pieces by exiled Spanish Sephardic Jews who settled in North Africa, the Balkans and eastern Mediterranean lands during the 16th and 17th Centuries. The music was remarkable not only for its inherent beauty and variety but also for what it told us of the transformative effect one culture can have on another when they commingle. Using viols, flutes, drums and other instruments ranging from the zither-like santur to the oud (Arabic lute), the songs, ballads and instrumental pieces formed a fascinating musical mosaic of the Sephardic diaspora, brought to life with such skill and vitality by the seven Hesperion musicians as to speak with astonishing immediacy to the rapt audience that packed the recital hall. To everything she sang, soprano Montserrat Figueras, the group's co-founder along with Savall, brought a hauntingly beautiful voice that played across the music like sunlight glinting on the Aegean. Driss El Maloumi deserved his hearty ovation for the rhythmic and microtonal intricacies of his oud playing. But each Hesperion musician is a virtuoso in his or her own right, playing with an improvisatory freedom that belied the discipline underneath. In all, a glorious jam session of ancient music. |
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| It demanded to be heard (siren and all) | |
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Having just rehabilitated Schumann's unfairly neglected Paradise and the Peri, the Philadelphia Orchestra performed a service at least as important yesterday with its first local performance of Edgard Varèse's orchestral monstrosity, Amériques, since the 1926 premiere here under Leopold Stokowski. The Kimmel Center audience was, to put it politely, rather less charmed than at last week's Schumann. But if Varèse's revolutionary orchestral fervor doesn't inspire some level of audience resistance, the piece has been too quiet - which it wasn't at yesterday's exhilarating, convincing performance. The composer's dense, beyond-The-Rite-of-Spring language screams with an imagination that's never been surpassed. And some listeners will always be put off by the police siren that runs intermittently through the piece. The performance's instigator was guest conductor James Conlon, who is rarely without a significant cause. In his charming, informative preperformance talk, he placed the music chronologically in the burgeoning post-World War I metropolis of New York City, even to the point of identifying zoo sounds in the sprawling orchestral score. Given the music's density and individualism, any reasonably convincing performance of Amériques is a heroic act (which would count out the Chicago Symphony Orchestra's surprisingly lifeless recording under Pierre Boulez). This one went well beyond that, thanks to Conlon's know-how. Galvanizing the personalities within the Philadelphia Orchestra usually involves finding ways for them to live up to their sonorous reputation, and indeed, Conlon's approach was based on keen, precise orchestral colors that were very much the provenance of the Fab Philadelphians. With special ownership of the piece established, a performance of special clarity emerged. The piece could be easily followed as a succession of fantastic outbursts grouped around a solo flute ritornello. My previous encounters with the piece have been on recordings, but Friday's performance showed that Amériques absolutely needs to be heard in person. These sounds don't take well to any sort of containment. If Amériques is destined to remain on the fringes of the orchestral repertoire, it's due to the lack of an organizing principle strong enough to hold the outsized sonorities that the composer so audaciously created. But the piece at least found a far more congruent program companion than I'd ever guessed: Ravel's La Valse. Often shortchanged in rehearsal because it's heard so often, La Valse received a marvelously thoughtful performance full of myriad details that often go unheard, revealing the piece as a quarry of sounds less dense, more tonal, but clearly in reaction to a 1920s world similar to Varèse. Having suggested that Ravel was depicting the fall of the Austro-Hungarian Empire, Conlon gave his performance a strong Viennese accent. Hélène Grimaud's performance of Beethoven's Piano Concerto No. 5 ("Emperor") was the concert's most conventional attraction. And even though Grimaud has been heard in more scintillating form, her Emperor wasn't conventional or routine. She's possibly incapable of that. Her legato line never becomes too velvety, thanks to her Gallic sense of clarity, and never ceases to reiterate the hard-won qualities of Beethoven's inspiration. I love the way she organized the first movement with each of the piano's more introspective moments arriving with increasing quiet and slowness. Oddly, her concert garb - bare shoulders, pantaloon slacks - seemed more appropriate for a hot summer night at the Mann Center. But on gray December days, we can pretend, can't we? |
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