Classics from South America, at the Franco Center

MIchael Lewin, Pianist
Franco Center, Lewiston
March 10, 2017
by Christopher Hyde
One of the finest, and most unusual, piano recitals of the year happened Friday night, Mar. 10, as part of the 2016-17 Piano Series at the Franco Center in Lewiston.

Michael Lewin, Professor of Piano at the Boston Conservatory at Berklee, after acclaimed recordings of Debussy, Scarlatti, Liszt and Charles Tomlinson Griffes, has begun to explore Latin American classical music, and his discoveries made up a large part of the program.

Lewin’s technique is astounding, but always in the service of a musical imagination which contains a refreshing amount of intellectual curiosity. One his recordings deals with musical depictions of birds, and another with music inspired by the spirit world.

The program began with the Beethoven Sonata No. 3 in C Major (Op. 2, No. 3), which is not heard very often, perhaps because its transitional nature, moving away from Mozart and Haydn into his own realm, but more of a showpiece than an expedition into new territory. It does, however, offer premonitions of more characteristic work, while illustrating why the young Beethoven was in demand as a performer.

It was followed by the fiendishly difficult Sonata No. 1, Op. 22 (1952) by Argentine composer Alberto Ginastera (1916-1983). In discussing the work after the concert, Lewin explained that he played it with the score, since he was still perfecting its performance. The work is so complex, dense and rapid that it doesn’t seem as if a score would help in playing it. Even turning the pages was a virtuoso exercise.

Like his compatriot, Astor Piazzolla, Ginastera uses Latin dance forms primarily as a framework for  complex musical ideas and imagery. In fact, these musical echoes may not even be deliberate, but part of each composer’s heritage, sounding “Latin” only to northern ears.

My favorite section of the 15-minute sonata was the Presto Misterioso second movement, with its combinations of chords and sprays of notes at the extreme ends of treble and bass.

After intermission, Lewin played shorter dance works by Erensto Lecouna and Ernesto Nazareth, and “A lenda do cobaclo” (Legend of the Native) of Heitor Villa-Lobos. Lecouna (1895-1963) is best known for “Malagueña,” but his “La conga de la media noche” shows what “The Cuban Gershwin” could do with more sophisticated musical forms and “modern” harmony.

Lewin is known as a Liszt performer, and the final works on the program were the “Petrarch Sonnet,” No. 123, and the “Mephisto Waltz,” No. 1, masterpieces of musical imagery. The encore was an early Scriabin Etude.

The Franco Center piano series remains too much of an undiscovered treasure. Its artists are the equal of any performing in Maine, the venue and its acoustics are superb, and the price is low (including champagne with the pianist). Kevin Ayesh is coming on April 21, and I urge all lovers of the piano to attend and discover what they are missing.

 

Christopher Hde is a writer and musician who lives in Pownal.  He can be reached at classbeat@netscape.net.

Oratorio Chorale: A Bach Festival Preview

Oratorio Chorale
St. Paul’s Episcopal Church, Brunswick
Feb. 26, 2017
by Christopher Hyde

It would be advisable to buy tickets immediately to the Portland Bach Festival ,June 19-24. The first one, in 2016, was an immediate success, and the Oratorio Chorale’s “Bach+” concert on Sunday, a sort-of preview of the summer programs, was sold out.

As usual, director Emily Isaacson coordinated the Chorale’s chamber singers, guest artists St. Mary Schola, and a baroque trio, into one virtually flawless program. It was short, a little over an hour in length, but fully revealed the grandeur of both J.S. Bach and his predecessor, Heinrich Schütz (1585-1672).

The integration of a baroque ensemble—Bruce Fithian, organ continuo, Timothy Burris, lute and Philip Carlsen, cello— with the chorus and soloists, was particularly well thought-out. For example, in the support given bass voices by the cello.

I hesitate to point this out, once again, but no chorus in Maine has yet developed a powerful enough bass section. Perhaps our current deepening relations with Russia will improve the situation. A Chaliapin pedal point would be paradise enough.

The otherwise astute program notes did not identify soloists in specific sections, but those with individual bass voices were well balanced. Of particular note was the Schola’s artist in residence, soprano Mary Sullivan.

I came to hear the Bach “Jesu meine Freude,” (BWV 227) one of my favorites, and to learn more about Schütz and his “Musikalische Exequien,” which is said to have influenced Brahms’ “German Requiem,” coming up soon at the Portland Symphony.

But I was amazed by the longer, more operatic Schütz work, which, like most of Bach, puts to rest any notion of “progress” in music. It is a dialog between Man and God, illustrating both poetry and Biblical verses, and is unfailingly interesting in its variety of vocal combinations, never the same twice. It also builds continually in intensity to a conclusion of chorus, Seraphim and the Holy Ghost, the latter three voices emanating from the organ loft at the back of the church.

Some of the musical effects are almost tactile, as in the begging repetition of “Lord, I will not let You go except You bless me.”

Both the Bach and the Schütz proceed rapidly through the German verses, without that bane of my youthful existence, the worrying of a phrase over and over, like a dog with a bone, prompting one to mutter “Can’t we just get on with it?”

What is there to say about Bach, who combines melody, inventiveness, technical perfection and architectural elegance in one diamond-like whole? (With a little numerology thrown in for good measure.) The fugue in the middle of the motet is one of his masterpieces, interweaving four voices so that polyphony generates celestial harmony.

Could the chorale, No. 9, have been studied by Mahler, who also employs the phrase “Gute Nacht” to good effect in “Des Knaben Wunderhorn?”

Both the baroque works, which welcome a Christian death, are considerably more cheerful than most of Mahler.  Strange, when one considers that they both originate in the Lutheran tradition, which is said to have generated the aphorism: “It’s always darkest before it gets darker still.”

Christopher Hyde is a writer and musician who lives in Pownal, Maine. He can be reached at classbeat@netscape.net.

The Ghost of the Piano

Portland Symphony Orchestra
Merrill Auditorium
Feb. 14, 2017
by Christopher Hyde

The Portland Symphony Orchestra’s Valentine’s Day concert at Merrill Auditorium could have been billed as ”A Study in Black and White.” Music Director Robert Moody chose one of Beethoven’s most light-hearted (and least popular) symphonies, No. 2 in D Major, Opus 36, and paired it with Rachmaninoff’s darkly Romantic Symphony No. 2 in E Minor, the “Wuthering Heights” of music.

One doesn’t hear the Beethoven No. 2 very often, perhaps because it’s sort of a musician’s in-joke, which can’t be appreciated by the general public. It is fun to listen to, but lacks the emotion and spirituality of the others.

Some one once said to me, rather dismissively, that “music is not a religious experience,” to which I replied, as Woody Allen pointed out in another context: “It is if it’s done right.”

The orchestra gave the symphony a technically flawless performance, but they too seemed to lack passion. On the other hand, everyone seemed to be enjoying themselves, especially in that section of the Scherzo where a theme is tossed around between sections like a hot potato. The larghetto, which is more of s Spring song than a tragic reflection, was delightful, its bird calls a precursor of those in the Sixth Symphony.

A disclaimer here: the Rachmaninoff is one of my favorite works, perhaps because I first heard it performed by the Philadelphia Orchestra under Eugene Ormandy, which was world-famous for its string section.

Hearing it live once again, however, gave me an insight for the first time. It is not a symphony at all, but a piano concerto without piano. Anyone who plays the instrument can imagine a tremendous piano part fitting in perfectly beside or above almost every note of the score. There is even space in its heavenly length for the most brilliant and imaginative cadenzas you can invent.

The other-worldly clarinet solo in the Adagio, perfectly performed by Principal Thomas Parchman, shows where Rachmaninoff’s mind lay, although the clarinet gave him a better sostenuto than the piano to work with.

Speaking of heavenly length, the finale goes on so long that it was sometimes cut for performance. Not so this time, and one hoped it would go on forever. (Note: I have been informed that some, I hope minor, cuts were made to the original score for this performance.. Hope none of them was the real climax.)

Rachmaninoff was pre-occupied with musical climaxes, insisting that one must be found and built up to in every work, even if the composer had left it out. The finale of the symphony has at least five or six, leading the listener to wonder if he suffered, like Bruckner, from anorgasmia.

Moody chose the last one, fortissimo, leading to a standing ovation and the thanks of all the Valentine’s Day couples in the audience.

Christopher Hyde is a writer and musician who lives in Pownal, He can be reached at classbeat@netscape.net.

The Avant Garde at Bowdoin, Plus Beethoven

Amernet String Quartet
Studzinsky Recital Hall, Bowdoin College
Jan. 28, 2017
by Christopher Hyde

After more than 20 years of reviewing classical music in Maine, I am still surprised by the variety and quality of the offerings here.

The concert by the Amernet Quartet, Saturday night at Studzinsky Hall, is a prime example. Here was one of the most renowned interpreters of contemporary music, playing two “modern” quartets, a transcription of the Beethoven “Pathetique” and a movement from a quartet by Vineet Shende, who teaches at Bowdoin.

I don’t know what to say about the Beethoven transcription. I play the sonata myself and its andante cantabile was one of the first “classical” works I heard on the radio, an orchestral version introducing some company’s “Symphony Hour” back in the 50’s. Anyone remember what that was, on a Philadelphia station?

At any rate, the transcription was fun to hear, bringing out some inner voices generally obscured in the piano version. What was lacking, however, was the crispness of individual chords and the dynamic range that can be achieved on a Steinway grand.

The third movement of Shende’s String Quartet No. 2, “in Raag Ahir Bhairav,” utilizes traditional Indian modes and complex rhythmical patterns in a Western classical form. It avoids “exotic” cliches to attempt an authentic fusion of East and West, rather than a pastiche.

Shende provided a brief explanation of the modes in opening remarks before the performance, pointing out that the Indian modes named in the work are more than patterns of notes. One wishes that more information could have been included in the program notes.

The same applies to the other contemporary works on the program—the String Quartet No. 1 (1998) of Manuel de Murga, and the String Quartet No. 4 (1996) of Sydney Hodkinson, although both have expressive indications before each movement, such as “slowly pulsing, smoldering,” (de Murga) or “declamando, placido, sereno,” (Hodkinson).

De Murga, who teaches composition at Stetson University, and Hodkinson, Adjunct Professor of Music at Stetson, have both used the string quartet format as a vehicle for conveying emotional states, as designated by the movement indications.

Hodkinson also ventures into character portraits of his friends, a la Elgar’s “Enigma” Variations. Some of the portraits are based upon letter and number patterns, like those of the late Elliott Schwartz. In both cases, it was enjoyable to attempt linking the music to the adjectives.

The Amernet provided the best possible renditions of these late 20th Century works, especially the dense and sometimes fugal textures of the Hodkinson Quartet.

There’s a strange phenomenon at Studzinsky: an approximately 50 percent audience decline after intermission. The hall was almost filled for the first half and half filled for the second. I thought perhaps they wanted to hear only Beethoven and a native son, Shende, but the same thing seems to happen at every concert, not just of “modern” music.

Christopher Hyde is a writer and musician who lives in Pownal, He can be reached at classbeat@netscape.net.

Pianist Excels at Franco Center Recital

Franco Center Piano Series
Christopher Staknys
Franco Center, Lewiston
Jan. 20, 2017
by Christopher Hyde

At the advanced age of 20, pianist Christopher Staknys has already performed three times at the popular piano series of the Franco Center in Lewiston. The first time, at the age of ten, he had just broken his right arm and played his own composition for the left hand alone.

Probably just a coincidence, but the young pianist’s most successful rendition on Friday evening was the Sonata-Fantasy in G-sharp Minor, Op. 19, of Alexander Scriabin, best known for his Nocturne for the left hand.

Scriabin’s early piano works are heavily influenced by Chopin, but more virtuosic. The sonata, like those of Chopin, requires a master to bring out the internal voices amidst a Russian snowstorm of notes.

Staknys was more than up to the task,  in a well-balanced performance that, in the final presto, seemed like bolts of lightning inside a dark thundercloud.

Staknys, who lives in Falmouth and is now attending Juilliard, may have been nervous at the beginning of the concert, since he attacked the Mozart Sonata No. 8 in A Minor (KV 310) like a falcon dive-bombing a pigeon.

It was fascinating to hear. No one should be able to play that fast and furious without making a single mistake. “No, he can’t possibly negotiate that passage correctly at that speed!” But he does. Miraculous, but unfortunately not Mozart.

The accelerator was slightly less depressed in three waltzes from Chopin’s Opus 34, but they still sounded like Godowsky transcriptions of Strauss. The best was No. 2 in A Minor, which demands some thoughtful melancholy.

During the first half of the program, the young pianist was most at home in “Ondine,” from Ravel’s “Gaspard de la Nuit,” with its sparkling sprays of water flicked off by the nymph of the title, who is trying to get the poet to come with her to her palace under the lake.
A little more contrast of moods, from playful through Romantic to pouting (when the poet refuses her), would have been ideal, but the entire portrait was brilliant and technically flawless.

The second half began with two original preludes, dedicated to the pianist’s mother. They were reminiscent of Scriabin as well in their tonal ambiguity, if not in their playfulness.

A Schubert Allegretto in A-flat Major, No. 6 of Moments Musicaux, Op. 94 (D. 780), demonstrated what Staknys could do with a more relaxed and thoughtful approach. It was gorgeous, especially the certainty of voices in the ever-modulating chords.

The encore was a set of improvisations on “Over the Rainbow,” with a reference to “My Country, ’Tis of Thee” appropriate to Inauguration Day. The occasion may have influenced attendance, but there should have been many more in the hall. A fine concert, crepes and wine at intermission and champagne and conversation with the artist afterward. What could be better than that?

Christopher Hyde is a writer and musician who lives in Pownal, He can be reached at classbeat@netscape.net.

The Sea and Chopin at Portland Symphony

Portland Symphony Orchestra
Merrill Auditorium
Jan. 15, 2016
by Christopher Hyde

If every member of the overflow audience at Sunday’s Portland Symphony Orchestra concert tells a friend about the experience, there should be no problem selling out classical music events in the future. The program had something for everyone, from arch-Romantics to Maine seafaring types.

The orchestra was in good form and enthusiastic, under the direction of guest conductor David Neely.

The first two works were Benjamin Britten’s Four Sea Interludes from “Peter Grimes,” (Op. 33a), and Debussy’s “La Mer,” two of the finest depictions of the sea in all her moods since Rimsky-Korsakov’s “The Sea and Sinbad.”

Both are spectacular in different ways. Debussy’s imagery is pantheistic. Man is merely a witness to the dialog of wind and wave. Britten, on the other hand, is supreme in his sketches of the ocean in relation to the shore and its inhabitants.

Even the reverberation of the Sunday bells, in the seaside village of his opera, has something moving and fluid about it. The irregular knocking of choppy seas on the hull can never be bettered, and the final descent of Grimes’ boat into the depths reminds one of Turner’s stormy seascapes.

Britten’s use of orchestra color is astounding, and always effective. Neely and the orchestra made the most of it. One minor shift in the pitch of the timpani spoke volumes, instantly altering the mood like a sudden fog bank.

While Britten’s Interludes are vignettes, Debussy takes a longer view, sometimes teasing,  in building up the sparkle of small wavelets and the “breeze that will be whispering at all hours” into a glorious crashing climax, which must have made every surfer long for Hawaii, or at least Costa Rica. Another argument, if one is needed, for the primacy of live music.

Pianist Diane Walsh’s sensitive performance of the Chopin Concerto No. 2 in F Minor (Op. 21) was a throwback to a salon concert of the 1800’s. Somehow tuner Matt Guggenheim made the Steinway sound like a Pleyel, or maybe it was just Walsh’s touch in the high treble. I could listen to her string-of-pearls portamento scales and passage-work forever.

The pianist’s independence reminded me of harpsichordist Wanda Landowska—‘You play Bach your way and I’ll play it his way.” She demanded space for her interpretation and got it. For the most part, the orchestra in a Chopin concerto is an accompaniment, but it sometimes asserts itself in surprising ways. A horn call in the third movement jolted people out of their seats, like a racehorse hearing the post, and the climax got a bit muddy, but who cares? It was a magical transportation back in time, complete with an encore of Liszt’s “La Campanella,” which I never thought to hear again in my lifetime.

Both concerto and encore got a well-deserved standing ovation.

Christopher Hyde is a writer and musician who lives in Pownal. He can be reached at classbeat@netscape.net.

Renaissance Voices a Christmas Gift

Renaissance Voices
Cathedral Church of St. Luke
Dec. 17, 2016
by Christopher Hyde

The Renaissance Voices Christmas concerts, conducted by Harold Stover, have become so popular over the years that the large Cathedral Church of St. Luke was still about half full on Saturday night, in spite of snow and bitter cold that cancelled other events.

Those who braved the elements were treated to a warm, traditional selection of a cappella vocal music from around the world and across the centuries, interspersed with readings from poets as diverse as Carl Sandburg and Rainer Maria Rllke. Wintery works by Rilke and Heinrich Heine were read in German, followed by English translations.

The word traditional is appropriate because even the modern works on the program were modeled after Renaissance and Baroque music.  beginning with “Hail, Lady. sea-star bright,” (Ave, maris stella) by English composer Kathryn Rose (b. 1980), sung in Latin and built around a bass line that sounds like Gregorian chant, but more melodious. The higher voices weave a tapestry of sound around this solid foundation. It was compared to another Ave Maria by Jacobus Clemens non Papa (1510-1556), and held its own very well.

Two German composers who seemed almost mirror images of each other were Hugo Distler (1908-1942) and Johannes Eccard (1553-1611). The choir alternated between the two, and just when one thought a recognizable style had been established, another of the five motets would blur the line. Some were lively, some were like chants and some were almost fugal in their polyphony, but all were musical and deeply felt.

The first half of the program ended with a rapid, rhythmical “Facta est cum angelo,” by Italian composer Girolamo Baglioni (c, 1575-1608).

Opening the second half was “Come ye lofty, come ye lowly” by Gustave Holst (1874-1934), another imitation, this time of a medieval English Christmas carol, that couldn’t be told from he original.

An American work, “The angel’s carol,” by Crys Armbrust (b. 1957), sets a text by Nahum Tate (1625-1715) using the early shaped-note technique of choral singing,  in which the shape of the written notes dictates the harmonies to decorate a hymn tune,

The result is sometimes strange, like shifting northern-lights veils of sound, but always effective.

The program ended with a triumphant “Hodie Christus natus est” by Dutch composer Jan Pieterszoon Sweelinck (1562-1621). Following a standing ovation, the choir sang an encore of three verses of “Silent Night” in the original German,  wrapping up a fine and appropriate Christmas gift.

Christopher Hyde is a writer and musician who lives in Pownal, He can be reached at classbeat@netscape.net.

The Thinking Man’s Christmas Concert

St. Mary Schola
Cathedral of the Immaculate Conception
Dec. 14, 2016
by Christopher Hyde

Since its founding in 2008, St. Mary Schola, under the direction of Bruce Fithian, has become so widely appreciated for its performance of music from the medieval, Renaissance and Baroque eras that it has outgrown its place of origin, the Church of St. Mary in Falmouth.

One of its three Christmas concerts this year, on Dec. 14, was held in the Cathedral of the Immaculate Conception, in the chapel, not the huge main building.  I had not been to a concert there before,  but the more intimate setting, and less echoing acoustics, were well suited to the Schola’s music, and to the volume of the antique instruments that accompanied it.

When period instruments were first introduced at the concerts, where much of the singing was a cappella, they seemed to be primarily for the purpose of authenticity. On Tuesday night, however, they made a significant musical contribution as well, blending in perfectly (without the problems of equal temperament tuning), providing appropriate interludes and reinforcing the polyphonic lines.

The recorders were particularly striking in the ritornellos of a Dutch 15th Century” In Dulci Jubillo.”

The Schola approached modernity with “Os Justi” by Anton Bruckner (1824-1896), but can be forgiven,,since the composer was trying, successfully, to write in the Lydian mode . The Romantics liked to imagine a simpler, less worldly time, but the music still gives away its 19th Century origin.

Concerts of ancient music might be well advised to stay away from Bach. One is going along pleasantly, enjoying the atmosphere of ancient days, and all of a sudden a lightning stroke of genius startles the ear. At least that was the case with “Nun komm, der Heiden Heiland” (BWV 36), from the Cantata No. 36, sung by Andrea Graichen and Molly Harmon, with cello accompaniment by Philip Carlsen.

A work that approached its level of polyphonic sophistication ended the fist half of the concert, a wondrous “Praise Our Lord, all Ye Gentiles,”  by William Byrd (1543-1623).

There was nothing to interrupt the joyous mood of the entire 17-part Christmas Cantata of Marc-Antoine Charpentier (1643-1704) that followed intermission. “In Nativitatem Domini canticum (H. 416) balances male soloists with the higher voices of the choir, plus instrumental preludes and impressionistic descriptive interludes such as “Night,” and “Awakening of the Shepherds. Tenor Martin Lescault sounded equally fine as an angel and a shepherd.

The cantata has a clever conceit near the end, when the extremes of the Child’s crying, need and cold are equated with the power of HIs love for mankind. Its final verse seemed particularly appropriate this Christmas: “Justitia regnant in terra rostra, et pacis non erat finis.”

The readings in Latin and Middle English, by Stephen White and Rachel Keller, were excellent, but Keller could have read Chaucer’s text a little more slowly, for those of us who are less fluent. As usual, the good program notes and complete texts obviated any problems with translation.

Christopher Hyde is a writer and musician who lives in Pownal. He can be reached at classbeat@netscape.net.

A Traditional “Magic of Christmas”

Portland Symphony Orchestra
“Magic of Christmas”
Merrill Auditorium
Dec. 9, 2016
by Christopher Hyde

Perhaps it’s the world situation, but the Portland Symphony Orchestra’s “Magic of Christmas” concert, on Friday’s opening night at Merrill Auditorium, seemed more movingly traditional than usual, emphasizing the orchestra and chorus, with a remarkable soprano, Elizabeth Marshall.

It was the first time I had seen the new assistant conductor, Andrew Crust, who did an admirable job as master of the Magic of Christmas Chorus, and in alternating as orchestral conductor with music director Robert Moody.

Tania Holt and Alexander Fedorchev, of Cirque de la Symphony, held the audience spellbound with their athletic feats on silk fabric 30 feet above the stage. Their duos were romantic enough to provoke a comment from Moody to the effect that the audience would either rush out to take gymnastic lessons or buy a Harlequin Romance.

As usual, the arrangements of Christmas favorites were a mixed bag, ranging from pedestrian—Anderson’s Christmas Festival Overture— to superb —the Rutter/Adam “O Holy Night,”—marred only by an unnecessary modulation in the second verse.

I would go to this concert again (December 10, 16, and 17 at 2:00 p.m. and 7:30 p.m., Dec. 11 and 18 at 1:00 p.m. and 5:00 p.m.) just to hear Marshall’s sweet but powerful voice hitting the high notes of “O Holy Night” without effort.

She also appeared in another French traditional song, “Quelle est cette odeur agréable?” with the Magic of Christmas Chorus, and in the Rouse arrangement of “I Heard the Bells on Christmas Day.” I prefer the more common tune, whether original or not, but will accept the alternative if it leads to another soprano solo over massed chorus and orchestra.

An unexpected combination of voice and orchestra was especially effective, pairing a section from Ravel’s “”Ma merè l’Oye,” “The Enchanted Garden,” with a contemporary Life of Christ read dramatically by Mathew Faberge.

Crust’s work with the chorus was outstanding, although the large, traditional group of 108, still needs a few more good bass voices. It was particularly good in an up-tempo “Hallelujah” chorus, for which the American audience stood like good subjects of King George.

The desire of that audience for some old-fashioned Christmas cheer was apparent in the concluding Christmas Carol sing-along, which was enthusiastic, with some audible evidence of part singing.

Judging from the reaction of the children seated near me, this year’s production holds attention very well, even without Santa Claus.

Christopher Hyde is a writer and musician who lives in Pownal. He can be reached at classbeat@netscape.net.

In Memoriam Elliott Schwartz

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One of my most treasured possessions is a birthday greeting from Maine’s pre-eminent composer, Elliott Schwartz, who died on Wednesday at the age of 80, surrounded by family, friends and former students of Bowdoin College, where he taught for many years.

The greeting is six bars of piano music in 4/4 time, marked “Slow, stately.” Elliott played it at my party, and I have returned to it many times since. In these few bars are contained some of the qualities that made Elliott a great musician and an even greater man.

The piece exemplifies Elliott’s long-term interest in the alphabet and numerology as sources of motifs for his compositions. His lectures on hidden codes in music are legendary, and in the greeting he uses the letters of my name, my date of birth and the date of the birthday party to build both melody and harmony. The only letter for which there is no musical equivalent is “Y”. The player has to shout out this syllable at the appropriate time, leading to the title of the work: “The Answered Question.”

Following that theme, the work progresses from relative dissonance to a satisfying tonic-sounding conclusion, even though there is no key signature.

“The Answered Question” illustrates Elliott’s characteristic musical inventiveness, and his ability to combine disparate elements into a satisfying whole.

It also contains a bit of psychological acuity,  a great deal of generosity, and considerable humor. It tells a story without words.

I first met Elliott at the beginning of my tenure as classical music critic for the Portland Press Herald. I interviewed him about his “Bellagio Variations,” but the conversation continued for well over an hour, covering a wide range of topics, end ended with his giving me R. Murray Schafer’s seminal book, ”The Soundscape.” It was the beginning of a long friendship with Elliott and his beautiful wife, Deedee, who died in 2014.

Although Elliott was in considerable pain after an automobile accident that almost took the lives of both him and Deedee, I never saw him in anything but a good humor. When I wrote disparagingly about Ralph Vaughn Williams and Edward Elgar, about whom Elliott was the acknowledge\d authority,  he merely remarked that there might be something in them after all and suggested a few recordings.

Perhaps there was a little synchronicity involved in the relationship. At one dinner party we had invited the late poet Henry Braun and his wife, Joan. She and Elliott were surprised at meeting (again). They had both attended the same high school in Brooklyn, at the same time, and had not seen each other for about 40 years.

On another occasion, two noted violinists, my wife Judy and I, and Elliott and Deedee, spent an hour after dessert playing a sextet on wine glasses.

I saw him at a concerts and festivals in recent years, but I recall most vividly a lecture he gave at Thornton Oaks, where he spent the last years of his life. It ended with one of the most spectacular recordings ever of the Rachmaninoff Third Piano Concerto, with a photograph of Vladimir Horowitz displaying a rare smile after the performance. I wondered “Where does he find such people?”

Where will the State of Maine,, the nation, and the world, find another Elliott Schwartz?

Christopher Hyde, Pownal, Maine. Dec. 8, 2016

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