A far Cry
Bach: Brandenburg Concerto No. 3 in G major, BWV 1048
Glass: Symphony No. 3
Bach: Keyboard Concerto in G Minor, BWV 1058
Glass: Piano Concerto No. 3
Simone Dinnerstein: Piano
Another season opening concert in New York City, another program featuring Philip Glass in what has to be the most extended – and most enjoyable – birthday celebration ever. On the other hand, needless to say that nobody’s really counting as we’re all too busy marveling at the opportunities and indulging into the music.
After the New York premiere of his 2015 Concerto for Two Pianos with the Labèque sisters and the New York Philharmonic last Friday night, it was his brand new Piano Concerto No. 3 that the packed audience in Columbia University’s Miller Theater got to hear last Thursday night, six days after its world premiere in Boston. On both occasions the musicians were the work’s dedicatee, Miller Theater regular and piano virtuoso Simone Dinnerstein, accompanied by the conductor-free and staunchly democratic chamber string orchestra A Far Cry.
And to make the evening even more irresistible, the program also included Philip Glass’ Symphony No. 3 as well as Johann Sebastian Bach’s Brandenburg Concerto No. 3 and Keyboard Concerto in G Minor for good measure.
The concert started with Bach’s Brandenburg Concerto No. 3, which also happens to be the most symphonic, and the shortest, among the six. Without missing a beat, the reduced orchestra authoritatively took control of the work with verve and precision, beautifully highlighting why Bach’s music remains so fascinating and timeless, namely the rigorously intricate structures and the quintessentially luminous undertones. Some things will never grow old.
Following a piece by Bach, let alone one of his most popular, can be no easy task for anybody, but Glass’ delightful symphony No. 3 effortlessly stood on its own thanks to the dynamite performance by the full orchestra. The short first movement got the ball rolling with infectious energy, the second movement grew into exciting complexity, the third and most important movement unfolded more slowly with fancy flights of lyricism from the principal violins, and the short fourth one concluded things swiftly and efficiently. It was the perfect mix of intellectual stimulation and pure fun.
After intermission, Simone Dinnerstein joined the orchestra and quickly demonstrated why she is widely considered a Bach expert. His Keyboard Concerto in G Minor is well-known for organically and flawlessly integrating piano and orchestra, and on Thursday night the easy rapport between the two components made for a very persuasive interpretation of it.
Readily moving from 18th century Germany to 21st century United States, Dinnerstein again applied her impressive dexterity and committed approach to Glass’ meticulously crafted, immediately engaging and often surprising third and latest piano concerto. Whether superbly playing the four exquisite cadenzas on her own or brilliantly blending with the orchestra, she delivered an informed and gripping performance of the constantly fresh and inventive score. The orchestra seamlessly joined in on cue and considerably contributed to the total success of the endeavor, which splendidly wrapped up the memorable evening.
Saturday, September 30, 2017
Sunday, September 24, 2017
New York Philharmonic - Glass & Mahler - 09/22/2017
Conductor: Jaap van Zweden
Glass: Concerto for Two Pianos and Orchestra
Katia and Marielle Labèque: Piano
Mahler: Symphony No. 5
As one of the countless lovers of new music still mourning the departure of Alan Gilbert and his resolutely adventurous programming from the New York Philharmonic, I have also resigned myself to giving well-respected music director designate Jaap van Zweden a chance, renewing my subscription, and looking forward to the future with – let’s face it – a few unavoidable pangs of anxiety.
And, ready or not, the future officially started this week with a first subscription program that made my jaw drop in surprise and excitement at the perspective of the New York premiere of Philip Glass’ Concerto for Two Pianos and Orchestra performed by the long-celebrated French duo that is the Labèque sisters. Moreover, in a smart move that had the new music director pay tribute to a former music director of the Philharmonic, it had been paired with Gustav Mahler’s sprawling Symphony No. 5, an epic journey famous for its grandeur, its intensity, and its ubiquitous Adagietto.
So even if the world was going to end on Saturday, September 23, as it is apparently suggested in the ever so reliable Bible, things were unquestionably looking up on Friday night.
Beside the possible end of the world, last Friday night also found its place in history because it was the first time EVER that a concert work by Philip Glass was performed by the New York Philharmonic, a fact that is both astonishing and – as my friend Nicole rightly put it – unpardonable. But this lamentable state of things was at long last corrected on Friday with his downright engaging Concerto for Two Pianos and Orchestra, which had been composed especially for the Labèque sisters in 2015.
As if to make up for all that lost time, the composition makes pianists and orchestra hit the ground running, and does not really slow them down for the first two movements, which were inventive, lively and relentlessly driven. But the slow third movement was the one that stood out for me with its subtle, artless and so thrilling beauty. Pianists and orchestra worked together tightly throughout the performance, which resulted in plenty of intriguingly intricate textures and delectably unusual harmonies, but kind of deprived us from hearing the Labèque sisters distinctly strike out on their own. That said, the ovation was tremendous, Philip Glass looked very pleased, and that was a pretty cool way to kick start the New York Philharmonic’s season.
If Glass was new territory for the orchestra, Mahler was most definitely not, and it seemed pretty obvious that most of the packed audience was there to hear a classic from the Viennese master one more time, not to celebrate Glass’ long-overdue entry into the Philharmonic's repertoire. And they sure got to hear his fifth symphony loud and clear for the expected 70 minutes, starting with a dramatically stoic funeral march and ending with a spontaneously uplifting finale. There was, of course, a lot going on in between and the orchestra sounded as solid as ever, with truly exceptional contributions by the various soloists, under the very involved baton of their new maestro.
However, Friday's performance will mostly be remembered for its impressive level of energy, clarity and brightness, if not for its emotional impact, which was often overshadowed by all the exacting music-making. Even the Adagietto, while impeccably drawn out from the stage, was not as magical as it could have been, but I’ll blame that issue on the relentless coughing coming from the audience.
When all had been said and done, the audience went wild again, and it seems safe to say that Jaap van Zweden has arrived with a ground-breaking, resounding and, yes, promising bang.
Glass: Concerto for Two Pianos and Orchestra
Katia and Marielle Labèque: Piano
Mahler: Symphony No. 5
As one of the countless lovers of new music still mourning the departure of Alan Gilbert and his resolutely adventurous programming from the New York Philharmonic, I have also resigned myself to giving well-respected music director designate Jaap van Zweden a chance, renewing my subscription, and looking forward to the future with – let’s face it – a few unavoidable pangs of anxiety.
And, ready or not, the future officially started this week with a first subscription program that made my jaw drop in surprise and excitement at the perspective of the New York premiere of Philip Glass’ Concerto for Two Pianos and Orchestra performed by the long-celebrated French duo that is the Labèque sisters. Moreover, in a smart move that had the new music director pay tribute to a former music director of the Philharmonic, it had been paired with Gustav Mahler’s sprawling Symphony No. 5, an epic journey famous for its grandeur, its intensity, and its ubiquitous Adagietto.
So even if the world was going to end on Saturday, September 23, as it is apparently suggested in the ever so reliable Bible, things were unquestionably looking up on Friday night.
Beside the possible end of the world, last Friday night also found its place in history because it was the first time EVER that a concert work by Philip Glass was performed by the New York Philharmonic, a fact that is both astonishing and – as my friend Nicole rightly put it – unpardonable. But this lamentable state of things was at long last corrected on Friday with his downright engaging Concerto for Two Pianos and Orchestra, which had been composed especially for the Labèque sisters in 2015.
As if to make up for all that lost time, the composition makes pianists and orchestra hit the ground running, and does not really slow them down for the first two movements, which were inventive, lively and relentlessly driven. But the slow third movement was the one that stood out for me with its subtle, artless and so thrilling beauty. Pianists and orchestra worked together tightly throughout the performance, which resulted in plenty of intriguingly intricate textures and delectably unusual harmonies, but kind of deprived us from hearing the Labèque sisters distinctly strike out on their own. That said, the ovation was tremendous, Philip Glass looked very pleased, and that was a pretty cool way to kick start the New York Philharmonic’s season.
If Glass was new territory for the orchestra, Mahler was most definitely not, and it seemed pretty obvious that most of the packed audience was there to hear a classic from the Viennese master one more time, not to celebrate Glass’ long-overdue entry into the Philharmonic's repertoire. And they sure got to hear his fifth symphony loud and clear for the expected 70 minutes, starting with a dramatically stoic funeral march and ending with a spontaneously uplifting finale. There was, of course, a lot going on in between and the orchestra sounded as solid as ever, with truly exceptional contributions by the various soloists, under the very involved baton of their new maestro.
However, Friday's performance will mostly be remembered for its impressive level of energy, clarity and brightness, if not for its emotional impact, which was often overshadowed by all the exacting music-making. Even the Adagietto, while impeccably drawn out from the stage, was not as magical as it could have been, but I’ll blame that issue on the relentless coughing coming from the audience.
When all had been said and done, the audience went wild again, and it seems safe to say that Jaap van Zweden has arrived with a ground-breaking, resounding and, yes, promising bang.
Monday, September 11, 2017
New York City Opera - La fanciulla del West - 09/08/17
Composer: Giacomo Puccini
Conductor: James Meena
Director: Ivan Stefanutti
Kristin Sampson: Minnie
Jonathan Burton: Dick Johnson
Kevin Short: Jack Pance
Alexander Birch Elliott: Sonora
Michael Boley: Nick
Christopher Job: Ashby
Kenneth Overton: Jake Wallace
After a fabulous Sibelius-inspired concert gloriously kicked off my concert season on Monday evening, I was more than ready for La fanciulla del West, presented by the New York City Opera, in collaboration with the Teatro di Giglio in Lucca, the Teatro Lirico in Cagliari and Opera Carolina, to kick off my opera season, and incidentally wrap up a short but hectic week, on Friday evening.
Not as perennially popular as some of Puccini's other works, the alleged "original spaghetti western" picked my curiosity because this time not only is the heroine independent-minded, but she's got a gun, knows how to use it, unhesitantly cheats at a card game to get the guy, and literally rides off into the sunset with him in a Hollywood-worthy happy ending. That sure beats dying of tuberculosis in a freezing garret, cutting one’s throat with a harakiri knife because of a worthless cad, or jumping off the top of Castel Sant'Angelo because there’s simply no way out.
Dismissed as a sweet but minor work by some and hailed as an unfairly neglected masterpiece by others, La fanciulla del West still more or less regularly pops up on opera stages around the globe. So I figured that the only thing to do was to go find out for myself, and at the same time support the valiant New York City Opera at the beginning of its second full season, with my friend Christine, who was also game for a light-hearted yet cultural start of the weekend.
Taking place in faraway California during the Gold Rush, which had to be a refreshingly novel setting at the time, La fanciulla del West also distinguishes itself for being the first world premiere ever presented at the Metropolitan Opera back in 1910, and a glittery one at that with Emmy Destinn and Enrico Caruso as the star-crossed lovers and Arturo Toscanini on the podium. The post-performance reception at the Vanderbilt’s was probably one of the hottest tickets in town as well. So who cared if the critics were not exactly raving?
Being the only girl in a man's world is a tough job, but from time to time somebody's got to do it, and while Minnie described herself as innocent and insignificant, she also appeared to be unconventionally well-read, self-sufficient and strong-willed. Portraying such a complex young woman can be no easy feat, but soprano Kristin Sampson readily rose to the task with a powerful and pliable voice that she knew how to amp up when reaching for the big emotional peaks and tamper down during the more intimate moments. She did not seem overly comfortable with a gun, but she had enough of a stage presence to make her Minnie an endearing character everyone on the stage and in the audience spontaneously rooted for.
Tenor Jonathan Burton was equally engaging as the outlaw Dick Johnson, even to the point where it was hard to imagine him as a hardened criminal. Maybe it was his sob story explaining his current circumstances, maybe it was his youthful smile and demeanor, maybe it was his going-for-broke singing that sounded straight from the heart, but seeing him through Minnie's loving and forgiving eyes quickly became a given. He had the one big aria of the evening, "Ch'ella mi creda", and did not miss his chance to nail it fair and square.
On the other hand, it was not hard to despise bass-baritone Kevin Short's self-assured sheriff and major boor Jack Pance, who nowadays would have been smacked with a sexual harassment suit in no time for his relentless pursuit of a clearly uninterested Minnie. Efficiently completing the de rigueur love triangle, he sang and acted his love-struck part with commitment and poise, even when dressed in a potentially confidence-crushing electric blue suit.
The rest of the cast defined their various characters skillfully and colorfully, with a special mention for baritone Alexander Birch Elliott, who deftly impersonated the combination of a good heart and a hot head that was Sonora. The all-male chorus seemed to be having a swell time walking around in their fancy cowboy outfits, and they were particularly good at expressing a genuine sense of camaraderie, even in the formulaic but fun bar brawl scene.
Speaking of clichés with an appealing twist, the sets were traditional in an understated way, but at least director Ivan Stefanutti did try to occasionally bring the rugged outside in with projections of nature landscapes on the background, which usually worked. The Western Sierras are no romantic Paris or exotic Japan, but the production made a laudable attempt at recreating the roughness of life in a mining camp in the middle of nowhere. As for the costumes, they went from mostly pleasantly serviceable to randomly downright dowdy, but that did not hugely matter at the end.
What mattered hugely though, is that the romantic mood, nuanced colors and attractive melodies of Puccini's openly ambitious score properly came out from the pit, and the reduced orchestra energetically conducted by James Meena made sure to make it happen. Fewer show-stopping arias and a more elaborate orchestration were in fact a nice change from the quintessential Italian melody master.
Therefore, the verdict is that while not an unquestionable masterpiece, La fanciulla del West deserves a decent spot in the opera canon, and the New York City Opera deserves high praise for having brought it to the New York City audience. All things considered, my opera season has started very well too. And now it is onward and forward!
Conductor: James Meena
Director: Ivan Stefanutti
Kristin Sampson: Minnie
Jonathan Burton: Dick Johnson
Kevin Short: Jack Pance
Alexander Birch Elliott: Sonora
Michael Boley: Nick
Christopher Job: Ashby
Kenneth Overton: Jake Wallace
After a fabulous Sibelius-inspired concert gloriously kicked off my concert season on Monday evening, I was more than ready for La fanciulla del West, presented by the New York City Opera, in collaboration with the Teatro di Giglio in Lucca, the Teatro Lirico in Cagliari and Opera Carolina, to kick off my opera season, and incidentally wrap up a short but hectic week, on Friday evening.
Not as perennially popular as some of Puccini's other works, the alleged "original spaghetti western" picked my curiosity because this time not only is the heroine independent-minded, but she's got a gun, knows how to use it, unhesitantly cheats at a card game to get the guy, and literally rides off into the sunset with him in a Hollywood-worthy happy ending. That sure beats dying of tuberculosis in a freezing garret, cutting one’s throat with a harakiri knife because of a worthless cad, or jumping off the top of Castel Sant'Angelo because there’s simply no way out.
Dismissed as a sweet but minor work by some and hailed as an unfairly neglected masterpiece by others, La fanciulla del West still more or less regularly pops up on opera stages around the globe. So I figured that the only thing to do was to go find out for myself, and at the same time support the valiant New York City Opera at the beginning of its second full season, with my friend Christine, who was also game for a light-hearted yet cultural start of the weekend.
Taking place in faraway California during the Gold Rush, which had to be a refreshingly novel setting at the time, La fanciulla del West also distinguishes itself for being the first world premiere ever presented at the Metropolitan Opera back in 1910, and a glittery one at that with Emmy Destinn and Enrico Caruso as the star-crossed lovers and Arturo Toscanini on the podium. The post-performance reception at the Vanderbilt’s was probably one of the hottest tickets in town as well. So who cared if the critics were not exactly raving?
Being the only girl in a man's world is a tough job, but from time to time somebody's got to do it, and while Minnie described herself as innocent and insignificant, she also appeared to be unconventionally well-read, self-sufficient and strong-willed. Portraying such a complex young woman can be no easy feat, but soprano Kristin Sampson readily rose to the task with a powerful and pliable voice that she knew how to amp up when reaching for the big emotional peaks and tamper down during the more intimate moments. She did not seem overly comfortable with a gun, but she had enough of a stage presence to make her Minnie an endearing character everyone on the stage and in the audience spontaneously rooted for.
Tenor Jonathan Burton was equally engaging as the outlaw Dick Johnson, even to the point where it was hard to imagine him as a hardened criminal. Maybe it was his sob story explaining his current circumstances, maybe it was his youthful smile and demeanor, maybe it was his going-for-broke singing that sounded straight from the heart, but seeing him through Minnie's loving and forgiving eyes quickly became a given. He had the one big aria of the evening, "Ch'ella mi creda", and did not miss his chance to nail it fair and square.
On the other hand, it was not hard to despise bass-baritone Kevin Short's self-assured sheriff and major boor Jack Pance, who nowadays would have been smacked with a sexual harassment suit in no time for his relentless pursuit of a clearly uninterested Minnie. Efficiently completing the de rigueur love triangle, he sang and acted his love-struck part with commitment and poise, even when dressed in a potentially confidence-crushing electric blue suit.
The rest of the cast defined their various characters skillfully and colorfully, with a special mention for baritone Alexander Birch Elliott, who deftly impersonated the combination of a good heart and a hot head that was Sonora. The all-male chorus seemed to be having a swell time walking around in their fancy cowboy outfits, and they were particularly good at expressing a genuine sense of camaraderie, even in the formulaic but fun bar brawl scene.
Speaking of clichés with an appealing twist, the sets were traditional in an understated way, but at least director Ivan Stefanutti did try to occasionally bring the rugged outside in with projections of nature landscapes on the background, which usually worked. The Western Sierras are no romantic Paris or exotic Japan, but the production made a laudable attempt at recreating the roughness of life in a mining camp in the middle of nowhere. As for the costumes, they went from mostly pleasantly serviceable to randomly downright dowdy, but that did not hugely matter at the end.
What mattered hugely though, is that the romantic mood, nuanced colors and attractive melodies of Puccini's openly ambitious score properly came out from the pit, and the reduced orchestra energetically conducted by James Meena made sure to make it happen. Fewer show-stopping arias and a more elaborate orchestration were in fact a nice change from the quintessential Italian melody master.
Therefore, the verdict is that while not an unquestionable masterpiece, La fanciulla del West deserves a decent spot in the opera canon, and the New York City Opera deserves high praise for having brought it to the New York City audience. All things considered, my opera season has started very well too. And now it is onward and forward!
Saturday, September 9, 2017
Juilliard Orchestra & Sibelius Academy Symphony Orchestra - Sibelius, Salonen & Stucky - 09/05/17
Juilliard Orchestra
Sibelius Academy Symphony Orchestra
Esa-Pekka Salonen: Conductor
Stucky: Radical Light
Salonen: Mania
Jonathan Roozeman: Cello
Sibelius: Lemminkäinen Suite, Op. 22 (Four Legends from the Kalevala)
Not a minute too soon after Labor Day, my 2017-2018 music season started last Tuesday evening with what could only be considered an excellent omen: A concert celebrating the centennial of Finland’s independence with works by Finnish native Jean Sibelius, maybe the most underrated composer in the classical repertoire, Finnish native Esa-Pekka Salonen, by all accounts the most prominent composer from up North these days, and Steven Stucky, his late American friend who was significantly influenced by Sibelius.
After rehearsals in Helsinki, and performances in Helsinki and Stockholm, the Juilliard Orchestra and the Sibelius Academy Symphony Orchestra brought their combined youthful forces to Alice Tully Hall’s wonderfully intimate and totally packed Starr Theater for the much anticipated final stop of their mini-tour in New York City. Not a bad way to get back to reality after the wonderfully long but yet still too short holiday weekend.
When with the enthusiasm of youth and the aplomb of expertise a music student deems a composition “so cool”, you know that it was something truly special. Fact is, the assertive assessment by one of the concert-goers sitting right in front of me on Monday night neatly summarized what we were all thinking at that point. The piece we had just heard, Steven Stucky’s Radical Light, had indeed come out overflowing with originality and verve in one swell movement. The music first felt delightfully random with its various twists and turns connected by smooth transitions, but it soon became clear that such seemingly unrestrained freedom could only be obtained if a carefully built and rock-solid structure was there to support it, and there it was. And we got to appreciate it all the more as the über-talented, fearless and eager musicians making up the huge orchestra delivered a downright thrilling performance under the precise baton of maestro Salonen.
Next, Esa-Pekka Salonen got to conduct his own 2000 composition Mania, which could be called an almost but not quite cello concerto. It did, however, keep the soloist, indefatigable Finnish-Dutch cellist extraordinaire Jonathan Roozeman, virtuosically scraping away ̶ Not an oxymoron in this case ̶ almost the entire 20 minutes while the drastically reduced, cello-less orchestra kept on swirling like an equally wild crowd around him. This was no easy listening for the most part, but there was something eerily fascinating in hearing all the unusual sounds, sometimes clashing sometimes blending, produced by the fired-up musicians mercilessly pushed to their limits.
After having winningly met the Mania challenge, we ventured way down south for the semi-obscure encore that Roozeman had selected, Intermezzo and Dance Finale of Gaspar Cassadó’s Cello Suite, which added unexpected languorous Spanish rhythms to the Finnish-centric evening.
After intermission, it was back to Finland for more traditional fare with finally the unofficial man of the hour, Jean Sibelius, and his sprawling Lemminkäinen Suite. Based on one of the heroes in the Finnish national epic the Kalevala, and originally meant for an opera that never came into being, the four symphonic poems boast emotional drama, sumptuous lushness and beautiful melodies, which all came out through big splashy waves and pointed details as vibrantly performed by the decidedly unstoppable orchestra.
The hour was getting late, and probably past the bedtime of some of the players on the stage, but that did not keep conductor and musicians from treating the ecstatic audience to a delicately elegiac "Valse triste" because one can never hear too much Sibelius.
Sibelius Academy Symphony Orchestra
Esa-Pekka Salonen: Conductor
Stucky: Radical Light
Salonen: Mania
Jonathan Roozeman: Cello
Sibelius: Lemminkäinen Suite, Op. 22 (Four Legends from the Kalevala)
Not a minute too soon after Labor Day, my 2017-2018 music season started last Tuesday evening with what could only be considered an excellent omen: A concert celebrating the centennial of Finland’s independence with works by Finnish native Jean Sibelius, maybe the most underrated composer in the classical repertoire, Finnish native Esa-Pekka Salonen, by all accounts the most prominent composer from up North these days, and Steven Stucky, his late American friend who was significantly influenced by Sibelius.
After rehearsals in Helsinki, and performances in Helsinki and Stockholm, the Juilliard Orchestra and the Sibelius Academy Symphony Orchestra brought their combined youthful forces to Alice Tully Hall’s wonderfully intimate and totally packed Starr Theater for the much anticipated final stop of their mini-tour in New York City. Not a bad way to get back to reality after the wonderfully long but yet still too short holiday weekend.
When with the enthusiasm of youth and the aplomb of expertise a music student deems a composition “so cool”, you know that it was something truly special. Fact is, the assertive assessment by one of the concert-goers sitting right in front of me on Monday night neatly summarized what we were all thinking at that point. The piece we had just heard, Steven Stucky’s Radical Light, had indeed come out overflowing with originality and verve in one swell movement. The music first felt delightfully random with its various twists and turns connected by smooth transitions, but it soon became clear that such seemingly unrestrained freedom could only be obtained if a carefully built and rock-solid structure was there to support it, and there it was. And we got to appreciate it all the more as the über-talented, fearless and eager musicians making up the huge orchestra delivered a downright thrilling performance under the precise baton of maestro Salonen.
Next, Esa-Pekka Salonen got to conduct his own 2000 composition Mania, which could be called an almost but not quite cello concerto. It did, however, keep the soloist, indefatigable Finnish-Dutch cellist extraordinaire Jonathan Roozeman, virtuosically scraping away ̶ Not an oxymoron in this case ̶ almost the entire 20 minutes while the drastically reduced, cello-less orchestra kept on swirling like an equally wild crowd around him. This was no easy listening for the most part, but there was something eerily fascinating in hearing all the unusual sounds, sometimes clashing sometimes blending, produced by the fired-up musicians mercilessly pushed to their limits.
After having winningly met the Mania challenge, we ventured way down south for the semi-obscure encore that Roozeman had selected, Intermezzo and Dance Finale of Gaspar Cassadó’s Cello Suite, which added unexpected languorous Spanish rhythms to the Finnish-centric evening.
After intermission, it was back to Finland for more traditional fare with finally the unofficial man of the hour, Jean Sibelius, and his sprawling Lemminkäinen Suite. Based on one of the heroes in the Finnish national epic the Kalevala, and originally meant for an opera that never came into being, the four symphonic poems boast emotional drama, sumptuous lushness and beautiful melodies, which all came out through big splashy waves and pointed details as vibrantly performed by the decidedly unstoppable orchestra.
The hour was getting late, and probably past the bedtime of some of the players on the stage, but that did not keep conductor and musicians from treating the ecstatic audience to a delicately elegiac "Valse triste" because one can never hear too much Sibelius.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
