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Can You Hear Me Now? The Music of Howard Frazin Wednesday, November 9, 2005, 8:00 PM The title of this concert derives from a well-worn commercial catchphrase, though in this case it describes Longy faculty composer Howard Frazin's desire to have his music communicate lucidly to an audience. Not every piece was a must-hear, but the best would have admirably fulfilled this tonemeister's wishes. Frazin's music, while clearly articulating a New Tonalist ethos, shows a fair bit of variety in its approach. From Sonnet to Song (2003) is in some ways the most traditional of these works, a setting of Shakespeare's poetry for soprano and piano clearly encamped within the Barber/Rorem aesthetic. But while encompassing patterned piano accompaniments, these patterns do not slavishly adhere to standard models; furthermore, the patterns vary widely during the course of the piece, at times delineating architectural information. And the vocal writing is every bit as capable as anyone else essaying this approach. Most enjoyable. A second listen to the mixed trio The Jester, the Artist, and the Little Lion (2004) confirmed its winsome, irresistible charm and ably articulated structure, pleasing all over again. Its sound world, touched by composers as varied as Olivier Messiaen and Leonard Bernstein, is felicitously handled. Scored for four singers with piano accompaniment, The Voice of Isaac (2003) is a work for use recalling music of Igor Stravinsky and Carl Orff leavened with post-process elements. The piece takes a while to gain momentum and find its voice, but ultimately provides a payoff. The Sonata for Cello and Piano (2002), originally presented a few years ago on a Longy faculty concert as Declamation, Jest, and Murder and to which a finale was subsequently added, was the evening's most dour and clangorous opus. Regrettably, neither its formal delineation nor manner of speech are especially engaging; its Bernard-Herrmann-in-Vertigo-mode first movement makes the strongest impression. For the most part, performances were excellent. Cellist David Russell was top-notch, the possessor of clean finger work, a full tone, and neatly controlled bow arm. Michelle Trainor's soprano voice, while a bit bright in timbre, boasted a huge yet flexible sound and excellent diction. All four pianists, Anny Cheng, Judy Gordon, Laura Kennedy, and Victoria Mazin, provided solid keyboard support, while Philipp Staudlin blew a mean alto saxophone. The four singers of the Libella Quartet unfortunately struggled with such necessities as ensemble pitch, high register security, and word enunciation. --David Cleary |