An excellent ad hoc string quartet (Tatiana Daubek, Marika Holmqvist, violins; Karina Fox, viola; Colleen McCary-Smith, cello) delivered the goods, with Paul Cienniwa as harpsichord soloist in the Bach Harpsichord Concerto in A Major. The rest of the program consisted of the Haydn Quartet in D Major, Op. 20, No. 4 (Hob. III:34) and the Mozart Quartet in G Major (K. 387), “Spring.”

First up was the Haydn, the most popular of the six quartets that make up Op. 20. From the unisons without vibrato, this listener could tell that this was an unusual musical experience. On gut strings, chords delivered without vibrato have a certain pungency that is delicious. The variations of the minor mode second movement, marked “Un poco adagio e affettuoso,” were distinguished by gestures and a sighing motive shared among the four instruments. The next “Menuet alla Zingarese” movement features furious gypsy rhythms in upper and lower voices giving way to a steady 3/4 cello solo over upper strings.

The finale “Presto e scherzando” continues the gypsy flavor — the Hungarian gypsy scale is a regular harmonic minor scale with raised 4th and 7th degrees — but with all sorts of flashy inventions with a surprising quiet ending.

Cienniwa joined the group for the Bach concerto (BWV 1055), for which the band picked up Baroque bows, eschewing the torque bows that they used for the two classical quartets. The instrumentalists were placed in front of the harpsichord width-wise in the unusually shaped chapel (there are no right angles.) Any fears that the harpsichord would be swamped were instantly dispelled by the jolly opening movement. The A Major ending chord was particularly outstanding in this arrangement.

The minor mode middle movement, “Larghetto”, was particularly affecting with its sighing motive in the strings. The finale, “Allegro ma non tanto,” with its prominent downbeats answered by the full harpsichord, was a joyous romp.

Mozart’s “Spring” quartet is the first of six quartets dedicated to Haydn, who is generally considered the father of the modern string quartet. The first violin here was Holmqvist, who ceded her second role to Daubek; this would never have happened in an established string quartet. This Mozart quartet is distinguished by its heavy use of chromaticism throughout. The theme of the “Molto allegro” finale is based on four notes treated fugally, a technique that Mozart may have learned from the last movement of Haydn’s Symphony 23. In the midst of all this counterpoint, Mozart chooses to insert an operatic section. The long “Minuetto” second movement, in the home key of G Major, is answered by a minor trio section. This fascinating quartet is full of such felicities.

The concert series is sponsored by the Collins Family Memorial Fund organized by Dr. Leo Collins, longtime music director at First Church in Boston, The Rev. L. Willkie Collins, Leo’s father, led the family’s interest in music.  Leo Collins has done so much for music in Boston since he came here in 1958. In his early years as music director, all music funds at First Church were directed to service music. So Collins founded and was first conductor of the Cantata Singers, to give outside concerts. Paul Cienniwa is continuing that tradition but is focusing the repertoire on the harpsichord.

Larry Phillips studied music at Harvard, the Montreal Conservatory, and at New England Conservatory. In 1974 he was a prizewinner at the International Harpsichord Competition in Bruges, Belgium.

In its final concert of the season, the 123-year-old Chromatic Club of Boston presented two fine musicians, violinist Annie Rabbat and pianist Raquel Gorgojo, at the College Club on Sunday, May 23. They offered four pieces, sonatas by Mozart and Brahms, a Slavonic Dance by Dvorák, and a delicious bonbon by Fritz Kreisler.

The Chromatic Club’s mission is “to further the careers of the most outstanding young artists,” and the performers certainly fulfilled their part of the bargain. Rabbat has participated at Ravinia’s Stearns Institute and the Caramoor and Yellow Barn Festivals, among others. She has collaborated with the Cleveland, Takacs and Orion Quartets. Spanish-born Gorgojo studied at Madrid’s Conservatorio Padré Antonio Soler. She is currently pursuing a DMA in Piano Performance at BU.

Their music making was characterized by judicious tempos, good ensemble and a firm sense of form. It’s not easy to capture the nature of Dvorák’s rhythms, and Rabbat succeeded admirably.

From the opening measures of Mozart’s Sonata in B-flat Major K. 454, we knew we were in firm hands. The Largo was bold, and the Allegro was taken at a nice tempo. The lyrical Andante that followed was interrupted by a minor B section. The finale, marked Allegretto, was taken at clip not too fast, so as to perceive clearly the double upbeat theme.

The Vivace ma non troppo first movement of the Brahms Sonata in G Major, Op. 78, had an exquisite pizzicato section, leading us to the beautiful Adagio-Piu Andante movement. The clipped rhythms of the finale, marked Allegro molto moderato, were not obscured by too much virtuosity, easily blending to the quiet ending.

I have already commented on the Slavonic Dance rhythms. This piece is through-composed. Unlike Brahms, who used traditional melodies for his Hungarian dances, Dvorák composed his own tunes. This particular Slavonic Dance ended on a delicate high note, executed without vibrato.

The program ended with one of Fritz Kreisler’s light pieces, the Miniature Viennese March. All I can say about this perfect period piece is that composers don’t write music like this anymore.

My only complaint was in the scale of the performance. They play in a very bright room, the double-length second floor room at the College Club in Boston’s Back Bay. The players were both playing out, creating a harshness during the forte moments. More audience would have helped, too. A distraction during the playing of the Brahms was an audience member makng a video of the performance, creating an eerie green flash on the piano.

There were exactly 13 people in the audience. (A music friend commented later that there should have been 12, to correspond to the chromatic scale.) This is no doubt due to lack of publicity. I had not heard of the Chromatic Club before and have been in the environs since 1966. In a discussion with President Paul Carlson before the concert, I have learned that they have a new website, still under construction, which is understandable for a club established in 1886 by Edward MacDowell and a few of his students. In its 123-year history, performers have included Olga Samaroff, Amy Beach, Leonard Bernstein, George Neikrug, Emmanuel Feldman and Sanford Sylvan. Check out the season next year. You may be surprised.

Larry Phillips studied music at Harvard, the Montreal Conservatory, and at New England Conservatory. In 1974 he was a prizewinner at the International Harpsichord Competition in Bruges, Belgium.

First off was the motet “Singet dem Herrn ein neues Lied” for double chorus based on Psalms 149 and 150. (Mozart noted this motet when he visited Leipzig late in his life.) The motets are Bach’s most difficult choral works, and the chorus pulled it off splendidly, with discreet instrumental accompaniment. Then followed the Brandenburg Concerto No. 5, with John Finney distinguishing himself on the harpsichord. Violinist Daniel Stepner was his usual excellent self. This concerto is an instrumentally sparse one, which worked against Symphony Hall’s size. For instance, one had a hard time making out Christopher Krueger’s flute line, although Alan Winkler’s German harpsichord sounded fine. (A friend reminded me that this was due to the prevalence of the recording industry’s demands to make the instruments balanced. Do most people hear these concertos recorded?) Still, by the end of the concert, I wish I could have heard it in Jordan Hall.

The first half concluded with the one-movement cantata “Nun ist das Heil and die Kraft,” in which the chorus had a further chance to shine.

Then we heard “Der Geist hilf unser Schwachheit auf,” a motet written for a funeral of the rector of the Thomasschule. Like the earlier one, this is scored for double chorus, with strings and winds used in ingenious ways. There is a Lutheran chorale in the end, preceding two fine Hallelujah iterations. This is one of the most difficult motets to pull off, and all involved excelled themselves.

The Concerto in D minor for Two Violins featured Dan Stepner and Linda Quan guiding the orchestra by their violin bows. This most popular piece was extremely well played. It was, as the English like to say, gob-smackingly good. Bach composed this piece at Cöthen for two impressive violinists, and it’s been popular ever since. As the program notes explained, it was heard at the Collegium Musicum concerts in Leipzig.

The finale was another cantata, the 29^th, “Wir danken dir, Gott, wir danken dir,” which was written, like “Der Geist,” for an important occasion. It begins with a sinfonia featuring a virtuosic organ obbligato punctuated by brass, undoubtedly played by Bach himself. Finney further distinguished himself as organist.  Then the title chorus is heard, based on Psalm 75 and echoed by the end of B Minor Mass, which applies a different text, the “Dona nobis Pacem.”

The soloists, tenor Ryan Turner, bass Bradford Gliem, soprano Lydia Brotherton, and alto Thea Lobo, sang separate arias and recitatives in the traditional cantata way, with the notable exception of the alto, who has both a recitative (with a choral Amen!) and a Hallelujah aria, in which the organ makes a striking re-appearance.

That said, it pains me to say that the soloists, all drawn from the chorus, were the weakest part of the program. Perhaps that is also due to the venue. Still, the audience gave the concert a standing ovation.

Musically speaking, the Handel and Haydn Society would do well to have more of its concerts in Jordan Hall or similarly sized venues. That would afford the opportunity to have more concerts or more repeat performances. Next season, 12 performances are schedule to be held in Symphony Hall, with six performances each in Jordan Hall, Back Bay’s Saint Cecilia Church and Harvard’s Sanders Theatre and Memorial Church.

Larry Phillips studied music at Harvard, the Montreal Conservatory, and at New England Conservatory. In 1974 he was a prizewinner at the International Harpsichord Competition in Bruges, Belgium.

Cienniwa was the claveciniste in the series so named, currently being held at the church. His program featured the deuxième performance of Larry Thomas Bell’s Partita No. 1, Op. 97 for Harpsichord in its Boston premiere. The composer gave a brief introduction to his piece before the recital began. He composed his 10-minute partita in the summer of 2009, he explained, as an antidote to the opera he was composing at the time, so remote is the harpsichord from his opera composition. The first harpsichord he ever heard was on the Sergeant Pepper’s album, but of course that had a very different sound from the modern historically informed instrument.

Cienniwa, to whom the Partita is dedicated, gave it a stirring performance, choosing the registers as the composer intended. There are five movements, traditionally named like Bach’s partitas: “Overture,” “Courante,” “Air,” “Sarabande,” and “Toccata.” However,  Bell said that his piece was in the tradition of Scarlatti.

The only movement that Cienniwa failed to grasp when he was preparing it, we were told, was the “Toccata”; Bell suggested that he should play it as Chico Marx played the piano. From where I was sitting during the concert I’m not sure Cienniwa “shot” the notes as Chico did, but you can decide for yourself by visiting the filmed performance here of full of cascading scales and chords reminiscent of the overture, ends on a single high note.

The other movements were equally deft, from the pauses and scales of the “Overture” to the “Courante,” which featured the 8′ and 4′ registers, to the plaintive theme of the “Air” and the beautiful “Sarabande” with its alternating 8′ keyboards.

Cienniwa opened his recital with a majestical performance of the Huitième Ordre of François Couperin. This particular order, with its 10 movements, is perhaps the longest of the 24, especially with the magnificent lengthy B-minor “Passacaille.” The “Sarabande” has the designation “L’Unique,” which Cienniwa played on the full harpsichord. With its unusual chords and alternating “Vivement” and “Gravement” sections, it’s one of Couperin’s most inspired creations. The use of the buff stop for the tantalizing “Morinéte” last movement was exactly the right decision. Not everyone can capture the Baroque French style as Cienniwa does.

Three Sonatas in D Major (K. 490-492) by Domenico Scarlatti followed intermission. These are marked “Cantabile,” “Allegro” and “Presto.” The increasing velocity was emphasized by Cienniwa’s playing each without pauses.

Bach’s Fifth Partita in G Major (BWV 829) was the final piece in this fine program. The full harpsichord was employed for the “Praeludium.” Cienniwa then alternated registers for the middle movements before returning to 8, 8, 4 for the final “Gigue,” with its strange second half. The strangeness is prefigured by the “Tempo di Minuetta” movement, which Cienniwa rendered extremely well.

The encore was another Scarlatti Sonata, K. 517, a fast one in which Cienniwa demonstrated, if anyone listening still doubted it, his virtuosity.

This was my first exposure to my harpsichord after it had been rebuilt. The audience was full of musicians who told me that it sounded splendid, probably better than I remember, with note clarity through the registers and a powerful tutti in this small room. Cienniwa plans to use it for Baroque French repertoire next season.

Larry Phillips studied music at Harvard, the Montreal Conservatory, and at New England Conservatory. In 1974 he was a prizewinner at the International Harpsichord Competition in Bruges, Belgium.

[Ed: Mr. Phillips not only graciously pinch-hit, but his review was in to us in timely fashion; outage of the editor's telephone and therefore use of the internet delayed posting.]

On March 25, Robert Levin performed the last partita in E Minor. It was good to place him as the last in the series. In his written program notes Levin referred the fan shape of the six keys, B-flat, C-Minor, A-Minor, D-Major, G-Major and E-Minor. His playing is appropriately stylish, and he has a way of distinguishing the underlying structure amid the whirl of ornamentation. He captured the fantastic nature of the Corrente and Gigue. After the Gigue he had a momentary lapse before standing and accepting the applause. Unwilling to send us outside after such a grueling Gigue, Levin played an encore, the E Major fugue from the Well Tempered Clavier, Book II. It’s based on a placid subject from Palestrina and did the trick.

A week earlier harpsichordist Michael Sponseller played the partita No. 2 in C Minor. As he often does, acting music director of Emmanuel Music John Harbison delivered words about the partitas that precisely capture their musical effect. In his introduction, Harbison explained that, although it was not planned, the series ended with two “blockbusters,” especially the last two movements, the Rondeaux and Capriccio (which Harbison described as “striving.”) Sponseller, playing from memory, is a young player with extraordinary gifts. In 2006, Emmanuel Music awarded him a Lorraine Hunt Lieberson Fellow.

Charles Sherman played the G Major, which Michael Beattie introduced as the “sunniest” partita. Sherman is a masterful player. Once again playing without benefit of music, Sherman captured the amazement of the Tempo di Menuetto and the bizzareness of the second half of the Gigue.

Emmanuel Church’s own Nancy Granert offered the B Flat partita. Harbison explained that this “lyrically attractive” partita has the usual suite movements. Granert played the Praeludium at a slow, deliberative pace that suited it well as the opening piece. She employed the same registers for the Courant and the Sarabande, but rectified this in both Minuets. Granert had a little bit of trouble with the fiendishly difficult gigue but ended up with a triumphant high mordent.

Leslie Kwan played the less familiar A Minor partita, which Beattie described as “quirky.” Kwan certainly played it that way, giving an excellent account of it, getting better as the partita unfolded. The Burlesca movement came across as suitably unusual. Kwan is General Director of L’Académie, a Boston early music group.

Emmanuel Music Associate Conductor Michael Beattie led the series with the D Major partita. Harbison dubbed this partita Bach the Improvisor, saying that the names of the movements really don’t matter. Bach just uses the movements to indulge his fertile musical imagination. Beattie captured the plaintive nature of the Allemande, as he did in the fanciful Sarabande. The long Gigue is a real tour de force, with its stunning chromatic end. The repetition meant that the audience heard it twice. A lot of smiles were noticed as the audience members emerged into the daylight.

Most Thursdays had a full house, and the chapel, a 125-seat Gothic wonder, is an ideal place to hear harpsichord music. This is a good idea, and I hope Emmanuel Music continues it. Bach helps by grouping his pieces in sixes. (I wonder if this is because of the season of Lent?) May I suggest the six violin sonatas and partitas for next year?

Larry Phillips studied music at Harvard, the Montreal Conservatory, and at New England Conservatory. In 1974 he was a prizewinner at the International Harpsichord Competition in Bruges, Belgium.

The Ludovico Ensemble, in residence at the Boston Conservatory, presented the complete cimbalom chamber music of the Romanian-born composer György Kurtág on Tuesday, March 23, at  the Conservatory’s Seully Hall. Kurtág composed most of the modern music for the cimbalom, a sort of hammered dulcimer. This significant concert featured the noted cimbalomist Nicholas Tolle, who is also artistic director of the ensemble.

The program began with four songs from 1969, “Four Fragments on Poems by Pál Gulyás” entitled In Memory of a Winter nightfall alternatively, …Evening). Soprano and actress Aliana de la Guardia was at her excellent best. Already the hallmarks of Kurtág’s style were evident: rapid flourishes, brevity (some of the songs were only a few seconds long) and easy access to the effect of a particular song. The Hungarian-trained composer is a master of the short form. These songs are variously about memory, nightfall and redemption (“Blood has a journey” in the translation by Daniel Acsadi.)

Eight Duos for piano, violin and cimbalom, op. 4, followed. Here Kurtág developed his tonal sense with microtones (different strings on the cimbalom). The violinist Gabriela Diaz matched Tolle’s playing every step of the way, countering its resonance and its fast notes. De la Guardia returned for Seven Hungarian Songs for voice and cimbalom from 1981 based on six poems by Amy Károlyi and one by Kobayashi Issa. Here de la Guardia proved her ability to give lightning-quick changes of mood and the rare quality to convey instantaneously the meaning of a short song.

Then the small gathering of people were treated to four solo cimbalom pieces: from Játékok, Hommage à Berényi Ferenc 70, Virág az ember… and Un brin de bruyère à Witold (a strand of heather to Witold). These pieces allowed Tolle to demonstrate his virtuosity. Under his mallets the cimbalom had overlapping tones, percussion, even vehemence. I’ll bet the audience had never heard them before.

Tolle was joined by clarinetist Rane Moore for six pieces from 1996. The nature of the clarinet, its great range and timbre, combined with the cimbalom’s qualities, was brilliantly exploited by Kurtág, especially contrasted with the violin pieces written 35 years earlier. The program included two fascinating sets of Georg Christoph Lichtenberg: Gebets and Koans.

The final piece featured Scenes from a Novel (1981-82) as rendered by Tolle and de la Guardia joined by Diaz and Akiko Kikuchi, double bass. The work consists of 15 Russia poems by Rimma Dalos, translated in the program book by Peter Sherwood and Gillian Howarth. Violin and double bass meant that there was an acoustic gap that Kurtág exploited well. The composer has a terrific ear for textures. The 15 poems’ subject is the forlorn hopes of a particular woman. “Visit” proclaims “In a cold blanket of snow / a visitor called: sorrow.” Think Emily Dickinson. The last poem, an Epilogue, is particularly moving: leave-taking and awaiting is this woman’s lot, expressed by Kurtág with descending scales in all instruments and voice.

The Ludovico Ensemble (pianist Karolina Rojahn, de la Guardia, Tolle, and cellist Eliza Jacques) takes its title from the Anthony Burgess novel A Clockwork Orange, in which the protagonist experiences nausea whenever he hears the music of Beethoven. This is one of two ensembles I have heard in residence at Boston Conservatory whose excellence is a testament to the Conservatory’s quality.

At intermission I spoke with President Richard Ortner, who informed me that he would restore Seully Hall, which has good acoustics, to its former glory. Even before that day there is fascinating fare there.

Larry Phillips studied music at Harvard, the Montreal Conservatory, and at New England Conservatory. In 1974 he was a prizewinner at the International Harpsichord Competition in Bruges, Belgium.

The cymbalom or cimbalom is a full-size hammered dulcimer with two (or more) bridges inside a trapezoidal case. It is strung with fairly high-tensioned metal strings, many of the unison upper ones being doubled, even quadrupled. As with a 19th-century piano, the bass strings tend to be wound with copper or nickeled copper. Today’s familiar four-octave concert instrument was invented (by Schunda József, Budapest) and developed in the final quarter of the 19th century. This largest cymbalom generally has a sustain pedal that damps all the strings or, in some versions, just those of the bass and middle registers. The pedal is an indispensable aid to playing. It clears away the haze of sustained sound that results from the instrument’s typically lightning-fast tempi. A player holds two light, carefully balanced strikers (called “fennigs” for the undamped US instrument) capable of great delicacy, speed, and timbral shading. In classical concert use, as for Kodály’s Háry János Suite (from the composer’s rousing 1926 Singspiel), the largest cymbaloms and most robust beaters show up on stage. Concert instruments have removable legs that facilitate their transport and quick set-up, as well as assuring proper placement of the pedal.

We most commonly associate the cymbalom with Hungary, Romania, the itinerant Roma, and Moldova. Variants are also commonly found in mountainous regions of the Czech Republic, Slovakia, Ukraine, and Poland, and in the big 20th-century Eastern European diaspora along Lakes Erie and Ontario. Though the present instrument’s European traditions are related to or descended from its Magyar development in (probably) the late Middle Ages and again during the land’s early-17th-c. Turkish infestation, there are closely-related instrument families in Turkey, Persia, some Black Sea cultures, and scattered, ancient musical centers in North Africa.

Among the 20th-century composers who are appreciative of the instrument’s very wide dynamic range and its affinity for blisteringly fast passagework, as well as for a haunting largo character, have been Kurtág György, Rózsa Miklós, Hans Zimmer, and Louis Andriessen (Hungarian names in native order.) Numerous film score writers have put its great expressivity and exoticism to effective use in cameo moments of poignancy, especially in films with an Eastern European angle.

Over the decades before and since the end of the Soviet occupation, Hungaroton has issued a rich bouquet of solo, chamber, folk, and – notably — gypsy/café albums featuring exceptionally fine cymbalom playing. Among the leading names in the Magyar, Roma, Klezmer, and Romanian cymbalom communities have been Balogh Kálmán, Udvary Alex, Joseph Moskowitz, and the eminent Herencsár Viktória. In the 1950s and 60s, North American fans of Béla Babai and his Fiery Gypsies bought thousands of LPs and thronged the band’s many café and town hall concerts; some of the most famous post-war cymbalom players in North America toured with this much-recorded ensemble. Alas, players in the northern US and Ontario have now become few in number.

Veteran recording engineer Christopher Greenleaf collaborates with chamber, early, and keyboard musicians in natural acoustic venues on both sides of the Atlantic. He is active as a writer, translator, photographer, and acoustic consultant.

Christie’s 45-minute recital was at his normal usual excellence. Although its title was “Organ Fireworks,” he chose to play several small pieces from the Neumeister chorales that were only discovered in the Yale library by Hans-Joachim Schulze and Christoff Wolff in the last major Bach birthday, the Tercentennial, in 1985. The chorale variations on “Sei gegrüsset,” “Jesu gütig” were interspersed among the Neumeister chorales.

Someone had the brilliant idea to establish a video camera at the left of the console that conveyed the organist’s every move to the audience on a screen to the front of the sanctuary. (Was that Jake Street I espied helping to pull stops and turn pages?) Christie’s final piece was Bach’s most famous organ piece, the Toccata and fugue in D Minor. He received a standing ovation.

The other organists in this all-day celebration were Bálint Karosi, Mark Dwyer, Nancy Granert, Jacob Street, Frank Corbin, Luca Massaglia, and Christian Lane.

Meanwhile, at Emmanuel Church there was a Bach master class, a discussion of Bach’s cantata Am Abend der desselbigen Sabbatas preceding a complete performance conducted by John Harbison and a reception. All in all, I can’t imagine a better way to celebrate this master.

Larry Phillips studied music at Harvard, the Montreal Conservatory, and at New England Conservatory. In 1974 he was a prizewinner at the International Harpsichord Competition in Bruges, Belgium.

Schütz (1585-1672) was represented by three Latin pieces drawn from his 1625 Cantiones sacrae and three concerted German pieces from hits 1650 Symphoniae sacrae. The latter featured soloists from the chorus, sopranos Karyl Ryczek, Majie Zeller, Catherine Vaughan, and Angelynne Hinson; alto Lynn Torgove; tenors Jason Sabol and Stephen Williams; and basses Mark Andrew Cleveland and Shelby L. Condray. It is the rare chorus that can find such excellent soloists from its ranks.

The program began with Monteverdi’s Laetatus sum, which conductor David Hoose describes as “the Bolero of its day.” It came across as a wild romp, the singers clearly enjoying themselves, bouncing their words off the sextet of soloists (soprano Lisa Lynch joined Ryczek.) The large audience gave it a rousing reception. The Schütz that followed was slightly more subdued, but the chorus sang these short psalm texts so beautifully that the audience responded in kind. Conducting from memory, Hoose clearly admires this music.

Stravinsky wrote his 1948 Mass as a corrective to some Mozart masses he found in Los Angeles in 1943. In his own words, he wanted to write “a real one.” The Mass has all the hallmarks of his music at this time, anti-Romantic and severe. It evidently contains the composer’s religious beliefs. The chorus and soloists gave it a stellar performance.

Poulenc’s Mass in G dates from 1937 and is heavily influenced by the early Stravinsky, especially his Sacre du Printemps, which Poulenc heard as a boy. Like many composers and listeners alike, he never forgot its impact. The Mass was rendered by a sub-section of the chorus. There is much unison writing. A tenor note at the end of the Gloria was not to be believed. Soprano Luellen Best began the Agnus Dei in a hauntingly hushed fashion.

The Schütz concerted pieces followed. Hoose wisely chose to place the longer texts on either side of the shorter Saul, Saul, was erfolgt du mich. Wo der Herr nicht das Haus bauet demonstrated that Schütz is at the height of his powers and also why he is held in such high esteem today. The chorus and orchestra sounded superbly in all three pieces. High points included the abrupt ending of the first piece and the divided chorus of the second. The third piece, based on the familiar text Nun danket alle Gott received a particularly notable performance. After completing the Symphoniae sacrae, Schütz once again decided to retire, a petition which was rejected throughout his life. He continued to work until the year before he died in 1672.

The final piece, the “Gloria a 7 voci,” the sole surviving part of a full mass, returned us to the operatic world of Monteverdi. Befitting the spirit of the text, this was given an exuberant and full-throated performance. The writing bears all the hallmarks of mature Monteverdi: audacious harmonies, dance-like rhythms (especially in the “laudamus” and “glorificamus”) and a great sense of form.

The Cantata Singers always assemble fascinating programs, and this one is a good example. Bookended by Monteverdi and two sections from different periods of Schütz’s life, the 20th-century pieces, so different from one another, were separated by an intermission. Moreover, the program not only had a nice sweep to it, the composers learned from each other.

Larry Phillips studied music at Harvard, the Montreal Conservatory, and at New England Conservatory. In 1974 he was a prizewinner at the International Harpsichord Competition in Bruges, Belgium.

With the cello seated on a platform and the others standing, forming a semi-circle in the middle of the stage, the quartet sounded better and more balanced than other similar ensembles in this acoustic. The Artemis chose to present a nearly ideal program, quartets from the early, middle and late periods of Beethoven, to a near capacity house. Although they are German, they played in the Viennese fashion — less severe, say, than the Julliard approach.

First up was the second quartet of Op. 18 (actually the third to be composed in this set.) Never one for whom composition flowed easily, Beethoven struggled mightily on this one, occupying more than 30 sketchbook pages. In Germany it is called the Compliments-Quartette, owing to the three motives in the opening Allegro movement. (Beethoven himself applied only one descriptive name to his sixteen quartets, “Serioso” for the F-Minor quartet, which followed in the program.)

Like the first movement, the “Adagio Cantabile” features the first violin in a graceful ornamented melody. Gemuthlichkeit prevailed. This is interrupted by a change of key and tempo, the first of several quartets to do so. (Did Schubert learn from this technique?) The “Scherzo: Allegro” movement was taken like the wind, contrasting nicely with the “Trio.” The finale, “Allegro molto quasi Presto,” was characterized by Beethoven’s favorite word Aufgeknopft (unbuttoned.) It’s a rondo in which humor is predominant. At the end, the audience gave it a hearty reception.

The Quartet in F-Minor, Op. 95 offered an extreme contrast to this exuberance. By then Beethoven was experiencing deafness, financial difficulties and an unhappy love life. The program notes quoted from a letter Beethoven wrote in 1810, “Oh, life is so beautiful, but for me it is poisoned forever.” The “Allegro con brio” opens with a volley of octaves and then silence. The rest of the movement does not relent in its severity.

The “Allegretto ma non troppo” continues the despair. This is like a march to the scaffold. A diminished seventh chord leads directly to the next movement, marked “Allegro assai vivace ma serioso.” In place of a scherzo, Beethoven continues his struggles. Only the “trio” section provides relief with a steady cantus firmus. The finale begins with a moment of “Larghetto” before launching into a tormented “Allegretto agitato.” Towards the end, we are given a glimpse of hope when the instruments pause on an F-Major chord only to be plunged into an allegro once again. The audience had a well earned intermission after such an experience.

The entire second half was occupied with what an audience member told me was her favorite quartet, the A Minor, Op. 132. The is one of Beethoven’s longest quartets, with the Molto adagio movement (the “Heiliger Dankgesang”) occupying more than 16 minutes. Beethoven became seriously ill with a liver ailment while he was composing it. That’s why the slow movement was re-titled “Thanks to God from a convalescent.” Commissioned by the Russian Prince Galitzin, this is the second of a set of pieces dedicated to him.

The quartet begins simply enough, with strange chords “Assai sostenuto” leading to fugal interruptions. The first violin announces the “Allegro” section. This late music sounds very fragmented at first, but Beethoven manages to keep it organic by motivic ornamentation. The “Allegro ma non tanto” movement, for instance, has a Ländler theme which Beethoven later relates to his first motive.

The long slow movement is the emotional heart of this quartet. The score is fascinating with Beethoven’s markings, not only the Heiliger Dankgesang but also in the Lydian mode reference. This is key to the movement’s religious tone. Later, in the Andante he notes “Neue Kraft fühlend” (feeling new strength.) Then the molto adagio theme is repeated, but with a new strength.

An audience member remarked that the Celebrity Series audience regularly demands an encore. The Artemis wisely resisted. What could possibly follow this magnificent quartet?

Larry Phillips studied music at Harvard, the Montreal Conservatory, and at New England Conservatory. In 1974 he was a prizewinner at the International Harpsichord Competition in Bruges, Belgium.

The principal roles were surprisingly effective. The double cast on this Black-Tie opening night featured soprano Michelle Trainor as Tosca, tenor Jeffrey Michael Hartman as Cavaradossi, and baritone Greg Kass as Scarpia. All were strong vocally and dramatically, especially the tenor. Bass-baritone Seth Grondin sang a strong Angelotti, and baritone James Dargan lent his considerable talents to the buffo role of the Sacristan. Both men are in the masters program at the Longy School of Music.

Operagoers are familiar with the story of Tosca and are comfortable with different settings other than the Napoleonic 1800 given to the premiere in Rome, 1900. That said, the original setting is historically rich, but the niceties of historical fact are difficult to convey when you’re writing an opera. The Queen of Italy, many heads of state, and several composers were at opening night, including Pietro Mascagni and Francesco Cilea (respectively composers of Cavalleria Rusticana and Adriana Lecouvreur.)

Audiences have always liked Tosca’s tragic sense, evident in the opening music. But it is leavened by the Sacristan’s humor with Cavaradossi, typified by the aria “Recondita armonia.” Puccini alternates moods throughout the opera until the devastating conclusion. Scarpia’s music always depicts his intrinsic evil.

It was a little difficult to imagine the Roman countryside in the preparations for Act III, especially since the prop man was having trouble keeping the Viva la Morta banner up. (It was opening night, after all; or maybe it was intentional.) Eventually he threw it backstage in disgust. For a moment I thought I was in a Hasty Pudding production. Can’t Harvard get good velcro? It fell down once again for good in the midst of Act III.

In jail Cavaradossi pens a farewell letter “E lucevan le stelle” (And the stars were shining) unbeknownst that Tosca has killed Scarpia and arranged a mock execution. But Scarpia prevails; the guns were loaded. Tosca is engaging in a little humor before realizing that Cavaradossi is indeed dead. Before the violent end, the orchestra intones forte the introductory music to “E lucevan le stelle.” Puccini is full of such dramatic and musical references.

The Lowell House Dining Hall has no orchestral pit. From my seat to the left in the second row, I saw most of the action through harp strings. Given the limitations of the venue, the direction had some good points. There was a ramp above the main stage, creating depth and pleasing visual effects. Effective use of lighting and shadows prevailed in Act I. In the program book the Stage Director’s message was overwritten, but he clearly knows what he is doing. The mostly amateur orchestra members sounded remarkably good. I knew some players in past productions, and they spoke highly of Channing Yu. My only complaint was that the tubular bells were too loud.

The oldest continually operating opera company in New England, the Lowell House Opera spells out its mission in the program book — basically to educate students at Harvard University by putting on productions involving students and young professionals in the Boston area. Judging by this one production, it succeeds admirably.

Larry Phillips studied music at Harvard, the Montreal Conservatory, and at New England Conservatory. In 1974 he was a prizewinner at the International Harpsichord Competition in Bruges, Belgium.