Dedicated to Beethoven’s patron Count Rasumovsky, this quartet represents Beethoven’s foresight into the future of music with his stretching of the 19th-century boundaries of harmony and structure. In the program notes, Sandra Hyslop explains Beethoven’s awareness of the difficult nature of this composition: When “Italian musician Felix Radicati asked the composer if he seriously considered these quartets to be music, Beethoven quickly replied, ‘Oh they are not for you, but for a later age.’” Though composed in the standard four-movement structure, this piece is full of dissonance with a strong rhythmic profile, refusing to let the audience settle into their seats, instead taking them on an exciting aural adventure.

Lacking really crisp articulation (especially in their unison attacks and phrase endings) at the beginning of this challenging Beethoven piece, the quartet really settled into the composition midway through the Allegro first movement.  Throughout this piece, first violinist Lee emerged as a strong leader of the ensemble, successfully keeping the group together with both physical and musical cues. He exhibited great control over his flying fingers as he calmly played through the quick trills and runs of the first movement, sweetly lingering on the highest notes of the violin in the second movement, and making the most of his solos with beautifully phrased melodies throughout the piece. Lee also paid incredibly close attention to musical detail, as in his affective playing an instant of vibrato at the top of his arpeggio accompaniment towards the end of the second movement. The other standout was cellist McDonough, often providing steady support throughout the chaotic moments of the piece, in addition to contributing expressive lyrical melodies when given the opportunity. The quartet made up for their slightly shaky beginning with their performance of the last two movements, strongly building up to the conclusion of the piece and ending triumphantly in unison on the tonic chord.

The Shostakovich String Quartet No. 7 in F-sharp Major, Op. 108, dedicated to the memory of the composer’s first wife Nina, is composed of three movements directed to be played continuously throughout. Once again, McDonough grounded the ensemble with his solid rhythmic foundation, further enhanced by the warm tone of his playing. The highlight of this performance was the detailed and often difficult interplay between the musicians, such as the four-part musical conversation in the second movement, where each instrument contributes a repetitive fragment in turn. The individual skill of the ensemble members was again featured in the third movement where, after a section of imitative counterpoint, each instrument veers away from the group and plays their own quickly moving and obviously challenging line. All of a sudden the ensemble ends this chaotic section, switching from contributing their own musical lines to assertively playing together as an ensemble. The Jupiter String Quartet approached this Shostakovich aggressively, effectively illustrating the various moods and emotions Shostakovich embedded into this composition.

The Jupiter sounded at its best all evening in a beautiful performance of the Mendelssohn String Quintet, with violist Mary Persin, to conclude the concert. This piece opened with the ensemble providing strong accompaniment for first violinist Lee as he set the mood for the rest of the piece in the Allegro vivace first movement with his expressive melodies and impressive runs. The ensemble contributed to this melancholy atmosphere with its luscious swells of sound, effectively using the crescendo and decrescendo to their fullest emotive potential. Each instrument both gave and received musical support throughout this performance, culminating in a beautifully balanced ensemble sound. Though Lee and Vinocour worked well together at the start of the fourth movement (Allegro molto vivace), Lee was really the featured voice in this piece and rose to the musical challenge.

A well-thought out program, this concert provided the audience with three completely different takes on writing chamber music for string ensembles from three masterful composers. The Rockport Chamber Music Festival continues until July 2, with other performances taking place on June 27, 28, 30 and July 1.

Consisting of only two movements, the Haydn Trio in F Major (1784) was an excellent beginning; lasting about 13 minutes, this piece was a light-hearted, witty opener to the difficulty and weight of the next two works. As Haydn trios are typically dominated by the piano, this trio is no exception. Pianist Vonsattel played through the runs and trills of his part with great agility and ease. When the melodic dominance of the piano at times gives way to the violin, like in the second movement, Huang presented beautifully phrased, sweeping melodic lines, exhibiting his excellent expressive and dynamic control. Smiling throughout their performance, the trio continued to play up the light-heartedness of this composition by not taking their interpretation too seriously; for example, the trio slowed down only minutely at ritardandos and cadences, not ending each section with an immense drawn-out conclusion. With both the audience and musicians settled into their seats, the Haydn Trio successfully set the stage for the two longer works to come.

The trio began the short, rhythmic phrases of the Brahms Trio in C Minor, Op. 101 (1886) with controlled power, confidently hitting each chord in perfect unison. The communication between these musicians was impressive; whether in conversation, counterpoint or unison, their playing was exact and unified. This was especially apparent in the concluding “Allegro molto” movement of the Brahms, where the strings often play accented off-beats against the piano’s steadier rhythmic movement. Another high point of this performance was the pizzicato of the “Presto non assai” second movement. Occurring both in unison and runs where one musician picks up where the other left off, Huang and Altstaedt played with great sensitivity and dexterity. Once the final chord had sounded, the audience leapt to their feet in a well-deserved standing ovation.

Bearing the inscription “To the memory of a great artist,” Tchaikovsky dedicated his Piano Trio in A Minor, Op. 50 (1882) to his recently deceased close friend and mentor, pianist Nikolai Rubenstein. To honor Rubenstein’s great pianistic abilities, Tchaikovsky composed the piano part of this trio in epic, almost concerto-like proportions, at times even overwhelming the violin and cello parts. Structured in two movements, an opening elegy followed by an extensive theme-and-variations built on a folk tune, the trio played with great depth and passion, portraying a range of emotions from heroism to despair, perhaps illustrating Tchaikovsky’s feelings when he wrote this piece.

Highlights of this performance included the continuous interplay between the piano and strings. Whether acting as soloist or accompaniment for the strings, Vonsattel played with great skill, accuracy and expression, seemingly unfazed by the difficult nature of his part. Huang and Altstaedt successfully provided a unified front against Vonsattel’s piano, with their lines often weaving in and out of one another, in imitative counterpoint or exact unison. All three musicians gave strong performances, resulting in their second standing ovation of the evening at the piece’s conclusion.

Each musician brought great talent and musical sensitivity to this performance. Through their careful attention to tempo, phrasing, rhythm and articulation, the trio’s presentation of these compositions was warm, approachable and inviting. In addition to being treated to a top-notch performance, the audience was also able to experience fantastic chamber music production by talented musicians who sincerely enjoyed their craft.

Elizabeth Perten is a doctoral student in Musicology at Brandeis University and also is pursuing a Joint MA in Women’s and Gender Studies. She graduated from Barnard College, Columbia University, with a BA in Music.

Audience members, entering through 16^th-century Spanish doors, amidst 16^th-century Flemish tapestries of the “Tapestry Room,” were further treated to the Musicians from Marlboro at the Isabella Stewart Gardner Museum’s “Sunday Concert Series” on May 10. The program consisted of compositions from three centuries, beginning with Nielsen’s Serenata in vano (1914), followed by Haydn’s Quartet in B-flat Major, Op. 76, No. 4, “Sunrise” (1796-97), and after a brief intermission, Schubert’s Octet in F Major, D. 803, Op. 166 (1824). Each piece, reflective of its time, brought its own character to the concert, keeping the musicians and audience on their toes.

A programmatic piece, Nielsen’s Serenata in vano depicts the story of a group of musicians sent to serenade someone’s lover. After the woman fails to respond to the musicians’ melodies, the musicians decide their effort has been in vain, and accompany themselves with music as they head home towards the countryside. Orchestrated for clarinet, bassoon, horn, cello and double bass, this piece takes the listener through many musical textures and genres, from the lyrical clarinet melody with bass accompaniment of the opening, to the brusque march that ends the piece. Clarinetist Pascal Archer exhibited a great range of musical skill in the expressive cantabile melodies, agile ornamental figures and runs, in addition to a great tone and breath control, resulting in smooth melodies and subtle dynamic changes throughout the piece. Also impressive was the synchrony between the bassoon (played by Jennifer Collins Monroe) and clarinet, their ability to weave in and out of the ensemble’s sound. A peculiar grouping of instruments, this piece certainly had a unique sound, not one that I am persuaded I was drawn to. Overall, however, the musicians presented a fine rendition of this dramatic composition.

Referred to as the “Sunrise” Quartet due to the rising opening theme of the violin over sustained chords by the rest of the ensemble, violinists Sarah Kapustin and Lily Francis, along with violist Julianne Lee and cellist Peter Wiley, gave a solid presentation of this famed Haydn chamber piece. The unsung hero of this performance was cellist Peter Wiley who steadily provided strong support and accompaniment for the other members of the ensemble, yet when given the opportunity, played beautifully moving melodies as well. The accuracy of each musician’s staggered entrances in imitative counterpoint style in the first and second movements (Allegro con spirit followed by an Adagio movement) was impressive, as well as their synchronized grace notes and trills in the Finale – Allegro, ma non troppo fourth movement. The musicians appeared to have the most fun in the fourth movement with its many occurrences of melodic and ornamental interaction between the instruments, making this movement likely the most enjoyable for the audience as well.

The highlight of this concert was certainly the performance of Schubert’s Octet in F Major for winds and strings. Commissioned by renowned 19^th-century clarinetist Ferdinand Troyer, the octet features the clarinet, in addition to two violins, viola, cello, double bass, bassoon and horn filling out the remainder of the ensemble. Once again, clarinetist Pascal Archer performed magnificently. As Troyer was a talented musician, Schubert’s clarinet part in this piece encompasses the entire range of the instrument; throughout the six movements, the clarinet leads the ensemble through its use of its highest tonal register, sweeping lyrical melodies, as musical substitute for both the flute (lengthy melodies in the high register) and trumpet (repetitive leaping fanfares), as well as through its solo virtuosic runs, trills and other embellishments. Archer mastered each of these challenges in turn: his upper register sang poetically without any strain, his cantabile melodies were full of longing and passion, and his ornaments were always played with ease, though quick in tempo.

The ensemble opened and concluded the Octet at their best. The first movement, an Adagio – Allegro introduction to the piece, illustrated the ensemble’s musical talent through their accurate call-and-response interactive playing, the winds conversing with the upper strings. Horn player Paul LaFollette was a bit murky-sounding on his first ornamental turn, yet quickly redeemed himself at the end of this movement and throughout the rest of the piece; the high point of his performance being the lyrical melody of the second movement. The theme of the first movement of this piece was derived from Schubert’s art song Der Wanderer, a fun musical benefit for those listeners who caught the reference.

The sixth and final movement, with tempo marking Andante molto – Allegro molto, had a different feel than any of the other, more upbeat movements of this Octet. Here Schubert pits a jaunty-sounding section against an intense, somewhat eerie segment of music. The tremolos he introduces at the beginning of the movement, representing the latter, more peculiar-sounding section of music, always seem to return when least expected. These tremolo figures lend an aspect of uneasiness to the musical atmosphere, as we never know when they will return and on which instrument they will be played. The ensemble enhanced the inherent drama of this movement through their repetitive full crescendos, played in unison as if preparing for the final cadence of this piece, which is inevitably delayed for some time. They also did a magnificent job in hitting unresolved chords with great pitch accuracy, afterwards leaving a breath in the music as the audience begs for these sounds to resolve. These abrupt unresolved chords propel the music forward, and once again, the audience does not know what to expect. Finally, the music begins an intense rhythmic, tempo, and dynamic build-up complete with increased energy and the piece concludes. The ensemble had been building up to this difficult conclusion throughout the movement, and ended the piece in a whirlwind of finely played music. Rewarded with a standing ovation, this performance of Schubert’s Octet was presented with great musical stamina and skill on behalf of this ensemble of accomplished musicians.

Elizabeth Perten is a doctoral student in Musicology at Brandeis University and also is pursuing a Joint MA in Women’s and Gender Studies. She graduated from Barnard College, Columbia University, with a BA in Music.

The Nocturno for Winds (1824), performed by a student ensemble of 11 musicians and led by conductor Hugh Wolff, was an exciting introduction to Haydn’s compositional style, exhibiting both his ability to write slow, lyrical, cantabile melodies and in the more accented, march-like style with heavy reliance on the horns and staccato articulation. This piece featured the ensemble’s ability to work together – their blend and balance throughout this performance was remarkable, with each instrument lending its particular color and timbre to the unified whole. Standout musicians included Benjamin Smolen, whose flute melodies and runs weaved effortlessly in and out of the ensemble’s musical offerings, and oboist Amanda Hardy, whose piercing tone effectively emphasized the tension and release (consonance and dissonance) aspect of her role in creating this musical atmosphere. I urge you to look out for members of this promising group of young musicians in the future.

Originally arranged as evening entertainment music for amateur pianists, Mendelssohn’s piano four-hand version of his famed incidental music A Midsummer Night’s Dream, is a faithful reduction of the orchestral piece, but leaves much to be desired nonetheless. If one was not already familiar with the orchestral version of this piece, perhaps the four-hand arrangement would be more exciting. Though pianists Randall Hodgkinson and Leslie Amper performed their chosen excerpts very well, the piece itself is lacking in depth. In the four-hand arrangement, it is more difficult to make out distinct characters and settings, so Mendelssohn relies heavily on different textures, dynamics, pedaling and other articulation. The pedaling was occasionally too heavy in the duo’s first and second excerpts (the first being the famed Overture), which seems a bit understandable when there are only a limited amount of means to achieve orchestral power on a piano. Hodgkinson and Amper’s best presentation was the third excerpt, the Scherzo. Both pianists approached their contributions with great sensitivity and agility to produce lyrical lines, coordinated accents, and unison crescendos; and perhaps most impressive of all was Amper’s ability to smoothly finish Hodgkinson’s fast run of notes without missing a beat. Though this selection illustrated Hodgkinson and Amper’s pianistic skill, perhaps another piece would have been a better choice to feature Mendelssohn at his compositional best.

After the intermission, established musicians and teachers Miriam Fried, violin; Annie Rabbat, violin; Kim Kashkashian, viola; Paul Biss, viola; and Paul Katz, cello, gave a strong performance of Mendelssohn’s four-movement Quintet No. 2 in B^b Major, Op. 87 (1845). These musicians proved their skill as an ensemble through their accurate unison passages, lyrical phrasing, crisp articulation and group crescendos. Especially striking was the quintet’s ability to listen to each other’s playing and contribute selflessly in support of each instrument in turn when featured. Fried led the ensemble with great authority – her agility and rhythmic accuracy (especially in the first movement, an Allegro vivace) were always controlled and kept the ensemble on point. Fried was also featured in the Adagio e lento third movement, with her smooth playing of high notes as part of a lyrical legato melody. Taking almost no break between the third and fourth movements, the final movement, notated as Allegro molto vivace, reinforced the strength of the ensemble, especially in their capability to play as a unified voice. Occasionally during this movement, the violas were lost a little in the balance between the violins and the cello. Nevertheless, the ensemble presented a beautiful rendition of this Mendelssohn quintet.

Second violinist Annie Rabbat, appearing to have essentially the entire piece committed to memory, focused on playing in exact coordination with first violinist Fried and other members of the ensemble – Rabbat’s unisons and interactions between her lines and those of other instruments were astonishingly accurate and contributed greatly to the sound of the ensemble as a whole.

The almost 30-minute performance of this Quintet went very quickly; the ensemble (and composer) created such an atmosphere, drawing in the audience, that time passed in an instant. This group of musicians provided an excellent example for the students in the audience of how a quintet performance should sound.

Elizabeth Perten is a doctoral student in Musicology at Brandeis University and also is pursuing a Joint MA in Women’s and Gender Studies. She graduated from Barnard College, Columbia University, with a BA in Music

The 1950s were relayed through the dress and hair styles, props and dances of that decade. The dances were a bit cliché and seemed excessive to the otherwise artful reconstruction of the 1950s. Since there were no changes of costume – characters simply might add or subtract elements of their outfits in various scenes – the production relied on props to denote changes in setting or character. Additional modern touches included the use of a contemporary English translation of the original Italian libretto. By reinterpreting Don Giovanni through the modern perspective, these artistic choices enhanced the audience’s appreciation of the opera – they could now recognize the values and meanings of Don Giovanni as pertinent to those of today’s society.

The scenery and costume changes were not missed, especially with the innovative lighting provided by Robert Wierzel. His use of dark and light, shadows and shapes of light, effectively reflected characters’ mental states and emotions, and pictorially depicted good versus evil plans. Lighting was especially expressively employed during Donna Elvira’s “Ah taci, ingiusto core,” in which she stands in a solitary square of light, portraying loneliness and inner reflection. Other impressive uses of lights occur at the very end of the opera with the Commendatore scene – the main characters stand frozen on stage, lighted from below producing a zombie-like effect – and with the last lines of the opera, “That is what happens to those who do evil. Sinners reap what they sow,” when all the house lights are turned on, almost as if the audience is now put on the judgment stand, with no darkness to hide in, promoting them to an evaluation of their own life choices and relationships.

The consistently excellent cast was led by Christopher Schaldenbrand in the title role, with other standouts being Matthew Burns as Leporello and Kimwana Doner as Donna Elvira. Schaldenbrand’s performance was top-notch – his persuasive and aggressive acting further supported by singing and smooth talking. Schaldenbrand’s Don Giovanni embodied various emotions, ranging from sleek and sleazy, to violent and angry, to defiant and wild at the end of the opera.

Burns, a rare combination of comic timing, musical ability and stellar acting, illustrates the range of Leporello’s character through his interpretations of the famed “Catalogue” aria (”Madamina, il catalogo è questo”) and the Act II aria “Ah pietà, signori miei.” The fluid change between emotions, supported by equally persuasive variations in body language expressed in Donna Elvira’s da capo aria “Ah chi mi dice mai” and its following recitative, illustrated Doner’s superior vocal and acting skills.

The standout aria of this premiere performance was Don Ottavio’s (played by Matthew Plenk) Act II “Il mio tesoro intanto.” Plenk exhibited impressive control and mastery over his voice, especially apparent in the effective crescendos and precise pitch leaps, hitting each note with great accuracy. The cast was filled out with Susanna Phillips as Donna Anna, Ulysses Thomas as the Commendatore, Heather Johnson as Zerlina, and Joseph Valone as Masetto. Each performer embodied their character to the fullest, portraying their character in an incredibly believable light.

The outstanding orchestra, led by Anthony Barrese, provided solid musical support throughout the opera. The orchestra exhibited their excellence in the Finale of Act I, “Presto presto pria ch’ei venga,” with their crisp articulation, mastery of different textures and ability to change dynamics on a whim, supporting the energy and frenzy on stage. Another standout musical moment was Leporello’s Act II aria “Deh vieni alla finestra.” Here, through their beautiful sweeping lyric phrases, the orchestra gracefully tries to woo Donna Elvira, along with Leporello acting as Don Giovanni. The only drawback to the music was the artistic decision to include a modern piano, instead of a harpsichord or fortepiano, in the continuo section of the orchestra. The piano sounded out of place in the 18^th-century world of Mozart’s music – the juxtaposition between the Classical music and the contemporary setting of this opera would have been more effective if the orchestra had maintained Mozart’s original orchestration.

This production of Don Giovanni showed the hyper-sexualized and violent nature of modern society. Sexual innuendo, both verbal and physical, and the shocking reality of rape culminated towards the end of Act I with a frightened Zerlina running back to the stage with her hands bound by rope and an aggressive Don Giovanni chasing after her.

Overall, Boston Lyric Opera’s production of Don Giovanni was a great success. The audience could easily relate to this production, especially since the majority of them were alive in the 1950s. Even though this opera was first premiered in 1787, its values, events and characters seemed meaningful, relevant and reflective of today’s society.

The Boston Lyric Opera will perform Don Giovanni until May 5. For additional details please visit http://www.blo.org/season0809_don_giovanni.html.

Elizabeth Perten is a doctoral student in Musicology at Brandeis University and also is pursuing a Joint MA in Women’s and Gender Studies. She graduated from Barnard College, Columbia University, with a BA in Music

Prokofiev wrote the Symphony-Concerto (1950-52) as a reworking of his Cello Concerto in E minor, Op. 58 (1933-38), for famed Russian cellist Mstislav Rostropovich. After hearing Rostropovich perform the aforementioned E minor Cello Concerto, a composition with which Prokofiev was greatly dissatisfied, he vowed to write a revised piece for Rostropovich; and over the next three years, Prokofiev and Rostropovich worked together to produce the Symphony-Concerto, the last large-scale piece Prokofiev wrote before his death in 1953. Consisting of three movements – an opening Andante (instead of the expected Allegro of the fast-slow-fast standard concerto structure), an elaborate and extended scherzo (Allegro giusto), and concluding with a theme and variations (Andante con moto - Allegro) – this piece is one of the most challenging in the cello repertoire.

Zander presented Gutman, who studied under Rostropovich and Sviatoslav Richter, as having “absolute authenticity of every bone in her body.” Gutman, whose body language and face changed little throughout the performance, confidently led the BPO through the wild ride of Prokofiev’s cello masterpiece. After a couple of shaky interactions, with the orchestra hurrying to maintain pace with the cello at the beginning of the Andante, they both settled into a moving rendition of the movement, illustrated through the orchestra’s expertly executed dynamic swells and support of each soloist, whether the cello, flute or oboe. Gutman proved her mastery of the entire range of the cello (in the Andante, the cello part covers more than four octaves), especially when handling runs of double-stopped notes (a difficult technique of playing two notes at the same time) with ease.

The orchestra, an intermingling of professionals, amateurs and students, provided a strong foundation under Gutman’s cantabile, lyrical lines and virtuosic runs over the next two movements. The orchestra’s support was especially apparent in its sensitivity to Gutman’s entrances, subtly quieting into the background to give her opening runs and melodies maximum attention. An especially impressive moment was the skillful balance of the solo cello with the celesta entrance and ensuing eight measures of music (the celesta’s only appearance in the piece) in the third movement, both solo instruments’ melodic lines emerging from the rhythmic accompaniment of the entire orchestra.

Prokofiev employs essentially all fathomable applications of the cello in this piece – in addition to the anticipated solo and orchestral uses, the cello is also plucked like a harp, provides pizzicato bass-like accompaniment, plays on open strings, and uses double-stopped notes and the entire range of notes the cello can produce, among other techniques. Gutman did an extraordinary job in her treatment of each of these uses, each with their own character and feel. The slight drawback to Gutman’s performance was her treatment of the espressivo passages – each occurrence marked by a slowing down of the tempo coupled with flexibility in the meter. Often, this proved effective, with the music focusing intently on the cello’s melody, yet soon this method began to feel contrived with the orchestra occasionally needing to catch up to Gutman’s flexibility with the tempo. Overall, the Boston Philharmonic and Gutman presented a fantastic rendition of this beautifully challenging yet, sadly, seldom-performed Prokofiev orchestral masterpiece.

Brahms’ Symphony No. 2 in D Major (1877), one of his most popular works, featured many talented members of the orchestra, in addition to illustrating the orchestra’s ability to work together in producing swells of sound, exhibiting rhythmic control and distinct articulation – especially through their precise accents and seamless phrasing. The opening Allegro non troppo movement, steadily building on two motives presented in the opening bars by the basses and horns, also features Brahms’ love of simultaneously juxtaposing two beats against three (a variation on the hemiola). Highlights of this movement included the effortless sounding runs and melodies of the flutes and oboes as they wove in and out of the unified voice of the orchestra.

The second and third movements, featuring strong performances by the horn and woodwind sections, continued the wondrous impression of the first movement, with emphasized dynamics, swells of crescendos and decrescendos, and strict adherence to tempo markings and their returns. The careful attention to tempo proved especially effective in the third movement with the return of the opening Allegretto grazioso (Quasi Andantino) towards the end of the movement, successfully recreating the opening atmosphere in a different key and orchestration. Another strong presence of the third movement was the witty solo oboe presenting the opening theme and its recurrence at various points in this movement.

The concluding fourth movement again presented the orchestra as a unified force of music, playing with fantastic balance and sensitivity to each instrument’s part and changes in texture.  The forceful, effortlessly synchonized attacks of the string section provided the power behind this movement. Overall, this performance provided undeniable testimony to the Philharmonic’s musical skill and strength as an ensemble.

The Boston Philharmonic will be repeating this program at 8pm on Saturday, April 25 at Jordan Hall and again at 3pm on Sunday, April 26 at Sanders Theatre. Please visit http://www.bostonphil.org/BPO/ for additional details.

Elizabeth Perten is a doctoral student in Musicology at Brandeis University and also is pursuing a Joint MA in Women’s and Gender Studies. She graduated from Barnard College, Columbia University, with a BA in Music.

The concert began with Weir’s Sketches from a Bagpiper’s Album (1984) with Matasy on the clarinet and Yvonne Lee on the piano. Weir reinterprets three classic genres – Salute, Nocturne, and Lament – through a modern lens. Matasy handled the trumpet-like fanfares of the Salute with ease, and both players steadily maintained the metrical feel of a heroic march, even through rapidly changing thematic developments and rhythmic changes. And she demonstrated her mastery of the clarinet through the long, sweeping bel canto melodies of the Nocturne in the high clarinet register. Weir illuminates the lament – historically a woman’s song of mourning – through the use of the lower range of the clarinet and throbbing dissonances between the clarinet and piano parts.

Klucevsek’s solo accordion piece, Loosening Up the Queen (1987), with Matasy now on the accordion, proved her more than efficient ability with this instrument, especially through her clear distinction between the beautiful slow moving melody-and-accompaniment beginning and complicated syncopated rhythms of the middle section.

Concluding the first half was a complicated piece by Tower, Fantasy (…those harbor lights) (1983), with Diane Heffner on clarinet and Lee again accompanying on the piano. As an introduction, Heffner and Lee played through the 1950s song “Harbor Lights,” fragments of which Tower quotes in this piece. This prelude was a wise decision, for now the audience had aural cues to watch out for in Tower’s seemingly spontaneous music. Heffner and Lee shone as musicians through their careful handling of virtuosic solo passages of “fantasy” music (whose roots are in the art of improvisation) alternating between instruments. Lee’s beautifully flowing yet rhythmic opening chords and melodic lines juxtaposed with Heffner’s lingering and expressive presentation of similar material at the piece’s close provided a strong sense of each musician’s personal style.

The second half of the concert opened with the premiere of John Howell Morrison’s Ember (2009), a work for multiple clarinets and accordion commissioned by the Dinosaur Annex Music Ensemble. In this piece, Morrison experiments with the use of physical space, varying combinations of instruments and essentially static musical lines, in addition to applying concepts of the I Ching hexagram to title the piece. (The description of the corresponding hexagram as being the point of lowest light moved Morrison to think of nurturing an ember in winter.) Ember begins and ends with one instrument on stage, another off stage and a third playing from the back of the hall. Morrison exploits the sounds and timbres of clarinets (both B^b and bass clarinet) and accordion through the ever-changing pairings of instruments sounding together such as two bass clarinets with accordion, one of each clarinet and accordion, and two accordions with bass clarinet. Through the deliberate decision of composing for the lower range of the bass clarinet, its most vibrant point, Morrison’s music created physical sensations for the listener as well. Morrison’s use of space and orchestration was ingenious, giving the audience an incredible inter-sensual experience, stimulating the eyes, ears, brain and entire body. The intimate nature of the hall coupled with the deft skill of the musicians, Matasy, Heffner and Vivian Montgomery, made for a memorable performance.

The premiere of Lansing McLoskey’s blur (2009), another Dinosaur Annex commission, was performed by Matasy on clarinet and Heffner on basset horn. In the program notes, McLoskey writes that “blur is an exploration of the blurring of boundaries. Blurring the boundaries between solo and duet; between consonance and dissonance; between the clarinet and Bassett Horn; between contrasting musical ideas; and blurring the boundaries of expectation.” I found the relationship between consonance and dissonance to be the most striking aspect of this multi-layered piece. Jarring dissonances often resolved to satisfying consonances, making those instances where they did not resolve even more noticeable. In other places, due to their musical context, consonant intervals sounded dissonant and vice versa, effectively blurring the boundary between the two sonorities. Matasy and Heffner truly listened to each other throughout this performance, ensuring that the consonant and dissonant qualities of the intervals presented were as tuned as possible, that their points of overlap were exact, and that each note was hit with accuracy. This work was my favorite of the concert, inspiring me to be more critical when thinking about musical sonority, form and thematic development in the future.

Concluding the second half was another composition of Guy Klucevsek, The Return of Lasse (2004), performed by Matasy on the accordion and Heffner on clarinet. Originally written to accompany a dance, this piece is in rondo form and employs the shifting meters characteristic of Balkan music. A quickly moving piece with complicated meter and rhythms gave one last hurrah to the remarkable skills of Matasy and Heffner, the Dyno Duo.

The musical talents of Matasy and Heffner are undeniable, and when coupled with a well-programmed concert and additional talented musicians, the effect was tremendous. I left this concert wanting to learn more about clarinet and accordion repertoire and their intersections, in addition to my new-found fascination with the intricacies of contemporary music, as illustrated by the different approaches of McLoskey and Morrison, even when writing for the same duo of instruments. A memorable concert, indeed!

Elizabeth Perten is a doctoral student in Musicology at Brandeis University and also is pursuing a Joint MA in Music and Women’s and Gender Studies. She graduated from Barnard College, Columbia University, with a BA in Music. Elizabeth’s research interests include 19th century piano music, music criticism, women in music, historiography and the 19th century composer’s role as music critic and its subsequent effect on music history.