Renee Fleming - photo by Decca/Andrew Eccles

“We can listen to this stuff in our cars, or on our computers – but isn’t it more fun together?”

That’s an understatement. Especially when coming from Renée Fleming, tonight’s guest soloist with the Rhode Island Philharmonic and its conductor, Larry Rachleff.

The occasion was the “re-introduction” of Veterans Memorial Auditorium (re-branded these days as “the VETS“), the gorgeous 62-year old performance space that will now serve both the Providence Performing Arts Center (PPAC) and the Philharmonic.

The Auditorium has an interesting history, having begun as a Rhode Island Freemasons project in 1927 and then finally opening in 1950 after work stoppages during the Depression and the Second World War. Since then the stage has welcomed everyone Luciano Pavarotti and Tony Bennett to – tonight, making her Rhode Island debut, Ms. Fleming. She mentioned that, inspiring a chuckle from the audience when she said in her comfortable way, “it’s nice to still be able to have a debut…”

I didn’t know what the program was before arriving there tonight. It didn’t really matter, I’ve seen Fleming in concert before and I knew I wanted to be at this one regardless. So when I finally got a program and checked out the lineup I was happy to see a good mix of crowd-pleasers on there along with a couple of more unusual selections. Ravel’s song cycle Shéhérazade, for example, is a standard work among singers but much less so in the concert hall. An absolute delight to hear performed live, by artists who revel in the richness of Ravel’s orchestration and still allow its transparency to shine. The woodwinds in particular sounded lovely, with every note coming through clearly thanks in part to the acoustic paneling now enveloping the stage’s interior space. And it’s not very often a conductor breaks a baton during the performance, as Rachleff did during the program opener – nothing like the rousing Hector Berlioz Roman Carnival Overture to make that happen!

Among the more familiar works were the “jewel song” aria from Charles Gounod’s Faust, Tosca’s Vissi d’arte, and Vilja’s song from Franz Lehar’s The Merry Widow. Fleming staples, all, and wonderfully performed with great spirit, charm, and (of course) proficiency. But the real highlight for me came shortly into the second half of the program, with Antonín Dvořák’s sublime “Song to the Moon” from Rusalka. Long have I thought of this as a Fleming specialty piece, and she confirmed that connection tonight when she introduced it by calling it her “signature aria”. If there is a single particular attribute she gives to that aria, it is her warmth. Rusalka may be a water spirit but when Renée Fleming inhabits the character, Rusalka is infused with the very touch of humanity she strives for, in the opera’s story.

And then as if the concert content wasn’t enough, the night ended with three sparkling encores – another showstopper, Giaccomo Puccini’s “O mio babbino caro” (from Gianni Schicchi), and two songs from Leonard Bernstein’s Westside Story – “I Feel Pretty”, and “Somewhere”.

While the first phase of The Vets’ (now completed) renovation primarily focused on infrastructural and ‘back stage’ improvements, the next stage is said to promise more publicly visible and tangible improvements in accommodations and other areas. When that’s done we can hope that maybe Ms. Fleming will be invited to return for a reprise of tonight’s superb “re-dedication” gala performance.

Overnight showers have left a skiff here or there over the last month or so, but nothing like the inches that are (finally!) starting to pile up now on the apartment windowsills.

Took a drive past the nearby beach earlier today and I was struck with how the low atmosphere flattens out the layers of foreground (snowy beach, low tide beach) and background (Massachusetts Bay and sky) into a Rothko-reminiscent scene of stacked horizontal panels.

(l) Rothko's Untitled (Blue, Deep Blue, Yellow) - (r) Wollaston Beach

May there be many more days like this before spring comes.

Andsnes playing Grieg today

Earlier this week, WGBH’s Fraser Performance Studio got its very own fbook fan page. Just in time for the space to welcome one of the world’s finest pianists – Leif Ove Andsnes – for our weekly feature, Drive Time Live with Cathy Fuller.

He’s in town for this week’s performances with the Boston Symphony Orchestra. Beethoven’s C Major Piano Concerto is on the program, the first of his mighty handful of five “piano vs. orchestra” masterpieces.

Andsnes shared some insight today on the work: “The slow movements by Beethoven – it’s not a private confession, it’s a speech to humanity. And that’s very touching, it’s a such broad feeling which is very different from Mozart or Haydn.”

Life as a touring soloist is challenging, to say the least. There are stories of notable soloists calling the front desk at their hotels just to verify the name of the city he or she is in. Who can keep track of all those time zones?

Andsnes is clear about one thing. While he could live in “any city in the world, as long as it has an airport, to be able to get around” – he’s learned a lot about himself over the years. “I’m getting more and more sure of the fact that I cannot move away from Norway. It’s a fantastic place.”

We’re glad he’s here this week. Tomorrow night’s concert is one I’ve been looking forward to for a long time!

Leif Ove Andsnes at WGBH this afternoon

radio coffee house - milton, ma

Radio + coffee = irresistable combo. Right? Yep, at least to me.

Stopped by the Radio Coffeehouse this afternoon in Milton, MA. It was a little detour on the way to getting my new MA driver’s license at one of the area’s only RMV branch offices, in nearby Roslindale. Might as well procrastinate for a few minutes and stop off for a good cup of local java. Seriously. It’s not like a short delay in getting to the RMV could adversely impact what already promised to be a painfully time-consuming process.

I’ve been in search of a great cup of coffee since moving to MA around three months ago. Seems like a crime here, the hometown of Dunkin Donuts, to admit out loud that I don’t like their coffee. But I don’t. I really don’t. Always served much too hot, in styrofoam cups, it’s watery and flavorless and it’s not helped by the fact that they insist on fixing it up mysteriously behind the counter instead of making milk and sweeteners available for folks to do it for themselves and get the balance of ingredients just to taste. Problem is, with so very MANY DD shops around they appear to have the corner on the market and, surprisingly for such a cosmopolitan town, I’m discovering that there aren’t that many local coffee shops to be found in Boston. That’s fine, you don’t need many. You just need a few good ones.

The Radio Coffeehouse is a good one. Coffee’s fine, and the homemade cupcake with delicious (and generous!) buttercream icing hit the spot perfectly. Styrofoam cups are the standard here, too, unfortunately, and the coffee’s still fixed up behind the counter instead of by the customers themselves. But at least it’s done well, with care from the counter help to listen to the requested additions and get them right. (Creamer and a packet of sweetener: it’s not hard to get right, but you’d be surprised how often it’s messed up anyway.)

And check out the radio collection that runs the length of the shop – can’t beat that.

I’ll be back, and next time I’ll bring my own cup for them to fill.

PS – Best cup of coffee and overall experience I’ve had so far is at the Thinking Cup right next to Boston Common. Fabulous pastries too – French macaroons, mini cheesecakes, homemade Danishes…mmm…

Twelfth Night

by Laurie Lee

“No night could be darker than this night,

No cold so cold,

As the blood snaps like a wire,

And the heart’s sap stills,

And the year seems defeated.

O never again, it seems, can green things run,

Or sky birds fly,

Or the grass exhale its humming breath

Powdered with pimpernels,

From this dark lung of winter.

Yet here are lessons for the final mile

Of pilgim kings;

The mile still left when all have reached

Their tether’s end: that mile

Where the Child lies hid

For see, beneath the hand, the earth already

Warms and glows;

For men with shepherd’s eyes there are

Signs in the dark, the turning stars,

The lamb’s returning time.

Out of this utter death he’s born again,

His birth our saviour;

From terror’s equinox he climbs and grows,

Drawing his finger’s light across our blood –

The sun of heaven, and the son of god.”

With somewhere around a million people between me and the shell, more or less. So it was a moderately memorable experience at best, at least musically speaking.

Fast forward to this afternoon, 4pm at magnificent Symphony Hall:

Symphony Hall, Boston

The holiday pops programs are in full swing (yes, ‘swing’) now, with awesome musical arrangements, soloists, a few props, nifty lighting and the full Tanglewood Festival Chorus. I won’t give the other surprises away except to say “How the Grinch Stole Christmas” is a real show-stopper (good thing it comes after intermission), and the Pops does a version of the 12 Days of Christmas that’s unequaled. Their 12 Days is so popular that they’re offering it now as a download at the website – recommended.

I’m glad I had better seats this time around. And I’m glad it’s not going to be another 20+ years until I hear/see them again.

It’s good to be in Boston.

Working with Keith Lockhart has been an unanticipated pleasure of the new job. I’ve been producing “Keith’s Classical Corner” for a little over a month now with the program’s host, Laura Carlo, and the sessions are such rewarding experiences. Whether he’s cutting up between production sessions with that story about rescuing his clarinet from languishing in a closet, spinning an engaging history of English concert music, or relating anecdotes about the Pops…he’s just one of those people whose presence commands full attention.

This Thursday evening I’ll be at the Pops for the holiday concert. We’re recording it for broadcast this weekend.

I’ll enjoy the music, the superb acoustics of the Hall, the feeling in the audience. And I’ll be thinking about Maestro Lockhart and all of the other funny, thoughtful, talented real people who get up on the stage and make that music happen every day.

Laura Carlo with Keith Lockhart in the Classical New England studios

DeCordova museum (Lincoln, MA)

Now that the dust is finally settling a little on the homefront (or, more accurately, the passing of time is making the continuing chaos easier to  ignore) it’s time to get out and start exploring the new turf. Destination: the DeCordova Sculpture Park and Museum.

During this past October and November when I was living at a boarding house in MA weekdays and going back home to VT on the weekends, my curiosity was piqued by the DeCordova Museum signs I kept passing going both ways on I-95.  And then I discovered my new employer was an underwriter of exhibits at the museum, and I knew I’d have to get there sooner or later. Today was the day.

After a winding drive through the beautifully wooded hills around Lincoln, the DeCordova entrance appeared with large metal sculptures punctuating the surrounding golden woods. A short walk up the hill to the Museum building revealed more sculptures accentuating the walkway and nearby grounds. It was tempting to start the journey right there but the inside space seemed like the best way to get familiarized with the collection on the first visit.

One of the first pieces encountered was Capturing Resonance, by Soo Sunny Park and Spencer Topel. The gracefully undulated chain link framework was hung with hundreds of small, iridescent Plexi panels that shone in this winter afternoon’s incoming low light. At intervals activated by visitor movement, the whole structure rumbled and shook occasionally with a  low metallic hum. Another sound effect that emanated from it periodically was eerily reminiscent of the music of a glass armonica. Enchanting.

A man was filming the exhibit and I was just trying to figure out how to dodge his camera when he asked, “so what do you think of it?” He was pleased to hear the positive response, and said, “thank you“. What luck, to encounter Spencer Topel himself on a Sunday afternoon at the DeCordova! I found out he’s also a composer, on the faculty at Dartmouth College and currently completing doctoral studies at Cornell. We have a common acquaintance in the composer Rob Paterson. And, we’re both from Denver. Lots to talk about but little time for it today. Another time. We’ll be in touch again soon.

The rest of the afternoon was spent touring the other several exhibit areas (“platforms”) in the Museum, and strolling the expansive walking path through the outdoor sculpture garden. A few of the highlights are below.

The DeCordova website lists a snow shoeing tour of the grounds next Saturday. I doubt that will happen, with the exceedingly warm fall and early winter we’ve had so far. If you’re in the area, take advantage of that now and enjoy the last of autumn with a walk through the museum’s lovely sculpture garden. From colossal silver pipe constructions to much smaller, more subtle installations, pleasant surprises await at every turn on the granite stone path.

Highlights:

Capturing Resonance, as viewed from above…you can see one of the two artists, Spencer Topel, walking through below. He was on his own video mission today to record the exhibit for his portfolio.

Erwin Wurm’s Am I A House? (excerpt):

Paul Matisse’s The Musical Fence:

Nam June Paik’s Requiem for the 20th Century: