Napa Valley's "Music in the Vineyards," now in its 13th season, produced an exciting and eclectic concert on Saturday afternoon in the small hall at the posh Silverado Cellars. Featuring mostly arcane but provocative repertoire, the event, titled "Carmen and Friends," was French to the core, though leagues removed from familiar Saint-Saëns, Ravel, and Debussy.
Debussy's unique
Sonata for Flute, Viola, and Harp opened the program, disclosing immediately the bright acoustics of the all-wood room, filled with some 130 devotees of chamber music. It was an innovative mix of sound, and the Trio Verlaine (flutist Lorna McGhee, violist David Harding, and harpist Heidi Krutzen) made the most of Debussy's 1915 score. Beginning with the lively Pastorale, Harding's wide vibrato suited the music's angularity well, and the ending, fading into the ether, was captivating. McGhee's control of pianissimo highlighted the Interlude, connecting with the swirl of harp arpeggios and a beguiling false cadence before the ending, in unison for the three instruments.
The finale, which is mildly dissonant and unlike any other music written in its decade, found McGhee's flute soaring and carrying the line in prismatic flight. Such penetrating sound from both flute and viola tended to obscure the harp, and Krutzen was seen more than heard.
The sonata, no less than its two siblings (one for cello, the other for violin), reveals Debussy's enchanting individual voice and his genius for atmospheric instrumental colors. It made a warm, ingratiating, and lovely beginning for the program.
Concluding the first half was one of the concert's two novelties, Couperin's
Apotheosis of Lully, for two violins (played by Daria Adams and Stephanie Sant'Ambrogio) and continuo. Doing the continuo honors were harpsichordist Junghae Kim and cellist Beth Rapier. This is a strange work, its 12 sections connected by mandated verbal introductions, spoken here by the festival's Co-Artistic Director Michael Adams. He adroitly caught the flavor of each of Couperin's short verbal homages to Lully, strongly proclaiming such lines as "The flight of Mercury to the Elysian Fields, to announce the descent of Apollo" and "The Raising of Lully to Parnassus."
Particularly impressive were the dance rhythms in the dialogue of Lully and Corelli themes in section 10, which were created by the interplay of the violins. Part 7, the fugal violin duet where Lully does indeed ascend to Parnassus, with the palpable support of Rapier's cello, was also effective. The sharply etched string parts suppressed any sound from the harpsichord, but, in the best continuo style, Kim varied the meter just enough to contribute to the mix.
Carmen Medley Entices Audience
Intermissions at most festival concerts tend to be long. The audience in Napa seemed reluctant to leave the bucolic vista of vineyards and the sampling of first-cabin wines for another demanding 45 minutes of chamber music. But any trepidation they might have felt about the approaching piano quintet was cushioned by a tasty bit of fluff, the rarely performed
Fantasie on Themes from "Carmen," by François Borne (1840-1920). The work is a grand duo, a potpourri of friendly themes from Bizet's magical opera. At times listeners heard the beginning of variations, only to be fooled by familiar bits and pieces from the characters Don José, Carmen, and Micaela.
Jeffrey Sykes' piano never covered Lorna McGhee's virtuosic flute, but Sykes did sound curiously tentative, perhaps from insufficient rehearsal. But no matter: The frothy quick scales and slides from the flute won everyone over and were a tour de force of exciting flute playing. I also detected an Andalusian flavor in the work, one reminiscent of Pablo Sarasate's violin pyrotechnics. The resulting standing ovation was a just reward. The performers were clearly enjoying themselves.
Louis Vierne stands in the shadows of French instrumental music, though his organ works are repertoire everywhere. His tragic personal life seemed to shape his compositions, and, like the pianist Simon Barere, he died (in 1937) at his instrument, at the end of a long organ recital in Notre Dame Cathedral. His Piano Quintet dates from 1917 and contains hints throughout of both Gabriel Fauré and, in the opening Lento, of Vierne's teacher, César Franck.
Here Sykes was on firm pianistic ground. His somber introductory chords in the bass were telling and, in some ways, terrifying. The string players (violinists Suzanne Beia and Sant'Ambrogio, cellist Parry Karp, and violist David Harding) were content to let the thick sound unfold without haste. A sad second theme was traded from violin to viola to second violin to cello, all the while reflecting the piano's surging line. The drama ended quietly, with the ensemble long and even.
Harding led the instrumental dialogue in the second movement, Larghetto sostenuto, walking around a theme without ever distinctly stating it. Again the movement has a tranquil ending, exquisitely performed here, which caused the audience to hold its breath. The only sound at its conclusion was the rustle of a warm breeze in the terrace's olive trees.
Smashing Finish
The repose was quickly shattered in the finale by six massive chords from the piano, with a response from Beia, and then more thunder from Sykes' piano. I kept hearing Janáček in this movement, then some Fauré, which certainly shows the individuality of Vierne's conception. Karp became the leader here, leaning to his left and right to signal voice leading and entrances, benefiting continuity when it became difficult to keep everybody together. The ascending pizzicato violin passages, brilliantly played by Beia and Sant'Ambrogio, assisted in moving this propulsive, brawny movement to a thunderous conclusion.
Vierne's strong themes command attention in this work. Despite some collective blurring that marred the rush to the coda, I was swept away by the composer's conception and the masterful performance of five musicians brought together to play a plenary chamber work in the afternoon sunlight.