April 2024: My Favorite Things
Besties, dreams, and early music
It’s another new month, friends! I’m proud to announce that after a strict, month-long relaxation regimen, I’m entering April refreshed, rejuvenated, and ready to take life by the throat.
April Fools! I’m so exhausted that the other day, I waited on the wrong subway platform through three full movements of Beethoven’s Eighth Symphony. I just assumed the E train was having problems — it often does! (At least the Beethoven, from a crisp new cycle by Ádám Fischer and the Danish Chamber Orchestra, had enough surprises to keep me in decent spirits.)
Crazy though March was, I was able to cram the month with activities, music, and people that I love. Some of that was luck; some of it was conscious effort; but all of it filled my heart, even if it drained my batteries. Here are a few high points from the past few weeks.
In prolonged busy periods, cooking is what I miss most. I can almost always muster the energy for a quick egg or three — lately, I’ve been fixated on silky, Chinese-style steamed egg custard, which takes about five minutes of active prep. But when work days get long and the refrigerator is bare, the Cachapas y Mas delivery people become my best friends. That is, for the rare meal where I’m at home…
Craving company and thoroughly sick of restaurant food, I passed several of March’s first evenings in my own kitchen, exchanging gossip with friends gracious enough to make the trek to Inwood. For such occasions, I’ve refined a small repertoire of weeknight dinners that look impressive, but take comparatively little effort. Quick stir-fries with pork butt from the freezer. Chicken breast cutlets in sauces of anchovies and/or capers and/or white wine. Tofu and mushroom braises, for the vegans. Roasted vegetables tossed in lemon, honey, and good parmesan. Fifteen-minute spätzle — nothing makes someone think you care like homemade pasta.
I’m always amazed at what I learn sitting around my own dinner table. This month, a childhood friend fresh from his final graduate audition gave me a detailed rundown of conservatory piano teachers: who’s psychologically abusive, who follows their own technique, who only accepts one student every four years. A sight-reading buddy from college, now a fellow at the Berlin Philharmonic’s prestigious Karajan Academy, filled me in on which conductors make the Phil excited to do their jobs (Dudamel) and which are exactly as close to death as they seem (Mehta and Barenboim). Even the non-musical fun facts astonished me — did you know that in the U.S., failure to submit a baby name soon enough after childbirth can result in a birth certificate bearing the official first name “Babyboy” or “Babygirl”?
One of my many soapboxes is that critics should spend more of their free time sight-reading. An hour of dragging my cinderblock fingers around the cello’s strings reminds me without fail that actually, critics have a much easier job than the artists we review. Lest we forget…
There was a time in my life where I played chamber music most every weekend, but I’ve fallen off since moving to NYC. This month, I decided my hiatus had run long enough. One Saturday afternoon, my cello and I schlepped out to Williamsburg, in the rain, on a weekend when the L train wasn’t running west of Union Square, to read piano trios with my friends Ben Gambuzza (of The Best is Noise) and Theo Haber (a talented composer).
I showed up damp and cranky, but any chills vanished once we dove into Debussy’s charming early trio. We plowed through several old faithfuls: Beethoven’s Archduke, Schubert’s gargantuan first trio, even a movement of Ravel — perhaps the hardest trio in the canon. That afternoon, I was the king of the three-quarter step, my fingers tying in knots through Schubert’s labyrinthine runs. But even if I fumbled often, there’s nothing that could scratch the same itch: not writing, not singing, not sitting in the audience. Playing the cello, I’ve discovered, is much more fun now that I don’t have to care how I sound.
If I truly had my way, I’d make a livelihood out of singing Renaissance polyphony. It’s one of those full-time career paths that’s only possible in Europe, a dream I had wholly written off. But this month, two polyphony concerts (in one week) gave me a surreal whiff of my idyllic life: exhausting, but fulfilling.
For the Lenten concert with Fifth Avenue Presbyterian Church’s choir — my secondary job and primary source of musical fulfillment — we stuck to tried-and-true 16th- and 17th-century chestnuts. I never again need to perform Gregorio Allegri’s gorgeous-but-repetitive Miserere, once a guarded secret of the Sistine Chapel’s Holy Week services. Legend has it that a 14-year-old Mozart made the pope very angry by transcribing the piece after one listen. (Plus, an iconic King’s College, Cambridge April Fools’ joke about the piece turns 10 today!) Tomás Luis de Victoria's haunting Tenebrae Responsories, however, I’d take to a desert island. Ditto Byrd’s stalwart four-voice mass, though I prefer its less-performed five-voice counterpart.
Easter Week brought music far more obscure, courtesy of my friend Doug Balliett. As part of his ensemble Theotokos, I dug into sacred works by the Italian composer Luca Marenzio, who is renowned (if at all) for fiery love-and-angst madrigals whose chromatic twists rival those of contemporary Carlo Gesualdo. This music was hard — rapid-fire Italian, illogical chord sequences (♥️ chromatic mediants ♥️), phrases far too long for a single breath. But our tenacious sextet, many of them full-time singers with whom I never thought I’d get to perform, did the old coot justice, even if the livestream modem malfunctioned. Great audio can save a terrible video, right?
And of course, the busy weekend of Easter-time church services unearthed more new favorites. Still firmly in the Renaissance, the FAPC choir’s Palm Sunday rendition of Thomas Weelkes’ “Hosanna to the Son of David” suffered a horrendous opening-note crack from a certain hapless baritone (sorry Ryan!). Easter’s more modern highlights included the snaking, vaguely Bach-ian polyphony of Brahms’ Geistliches Lied, the dense harmonies of Kenneth Leighton’s “Drop, drop, slow tears,” and an English version of Tchaikovsky’s perfect little “Legend.”
April 29, 2018, New Haven: As CupcakKe and A$AP Ferg performed for a horde of Yale students who wouldn’t remember it the next day, my little freshman tushie was going numb in an uncomfortable wooden chair a few blocks away. It was hour two of a glorious Bach B Minor Mass featuring Juilliard415 and a stellar Yale alumni choir — the show about which I’d write my first ever review. (I especially loved Rachell Ellen Wong’s concertmaster solos, as I mentioned at her profile interview in fall of 2021.)
A cherished professor snuck me into the concert’s official reception for some free champagne and canapés. I hovered along awkwardly as she greeted the bigshots, eating brie and drinking sparkling water. (What a scrupulous 19-year-old!) Eventually, we came to a bass-baritone I’d idolized since high school. He greeted me with a firm handshake. Star-struck, I didn’t quite know what to say. Luckily, a round of “Happy Birthday” for conductor Masaaki Suzuki broke the tense moment.
The events which led to that bass-baritone — Dashon Burton, of Grammy and Roomful of Teeth fame — hiring me to give my first ever university lecture (to his Vocal Literature class at Vanderbilt University’s Blair School of Music, on topics in music journalism) aren’t interesting enough to detail here. Suffice it to say that sometimes, our idols become our biggest cheerleaders.
Dashon, thanks for paying me to be a nerd in front of your students. I think I buried how big a fan of yours I’ve always been. For proof, here are a few actual texts from my Facebook Messenger history:
“dashon burton is a god” (after the B Minor Mass, 2018)
“dashon burton was eric owens’ cover — i honestly would have been just as happy to see him instead” (about David Lang’s prisoner of the state, 2019)
“oh boy dashon is on a new recording of an ethel smyth opera i’m so excited” (about the non-opera recording for which he’d win a Grammy, 2020.)
“isn’t dashon burton’s voice just dreamy” (about Michael Tilson Thomas’ Rilke settings, 2022)
I’ll never turn down an opportunity to proselytize on music journalism’s importance in today’s artistic ecosystem. In the lecture, I played bits of Monteverdi, Merle Hazard (the parody artist, not to be confused with Merle Haggard), Marvelous Mrs. Maisel, and more. Next time, I might rein in the readings — I forgot how many rehearsals conservatory kids have! (For those wondering, I mostly assigned the writers I want to be when I grow up: Alex Ross, Hannah Edgar, and Pete Wells.)
Dear readers, if any of you are university music professors tired of lesson planning, let me know — I’m always glad to take over for a class! (hire me pls)
I hear there’s never been a worse time to have grown up on Nickelodeon — please no spoilers for Quiet on Set, it’s on my watch list. I was definitely a Spongebob Squarepants kid. Talk about a show with underrated music! Every song was catchy and clever, and many of them still cross my brain regularly. (C-A-M-P-F-I-R-E-S-O-N-G SONG!)
In the vein of Spongebob’s earworm “Best Day Ever” — which, fun fact, originally appeared on an album that included Tommy Ramone and the Beach Boys’ Brian Wilson — I was determined to have the perfect last Saturday before my Easter rush. I summoned Sofia, one of my closest high school friends, from Crown Heights to Inwood, and we packed the rainy day with wholesome fun. (If you’ve been to my apartment, you’ll know this friend from the 18x24 canvas print on my wall. See below.)
Here’s what we did on my best day ever:
Walked a mile in the rain for a National Tamale Day fix at Serrano Salsa. The masa was moist and fluffy, just how I like it.
Returned home, shared life updates, played Mario Kart. By that time, another close friend — this one from college — had joined us. (She spent this last week in Bali, the lucky bitch.)
Went to Riverside Church for one of WorldStrides’ Heritage Festivals, the clinic for high school choirs that formed a staple of my musical childhood. Get this: my closest friend from high school choir now leads a fantastic high school choir of his own, at Los Angeles’ Alexander Hamilton High School. Watching him conduct pieces we sang together — as two of our tenor section’s finest baritones — dredged sensory memories I hadn’t revisited in a long time.
A quick afternoon pick-me-up, and dinner at Dyckman Dogs. Sam, whose recital I reviewed earlier this month, rounded out our quartet.
All four of us sat in the front row for my friend Carrie Frey’s album release concert, held at the tiny musician-owned Inwood coffee shop Kuro Kirin. The vibes had an impeccable coziness, and Carrie absolutely shredded on a program she’d commissioned from top to bottom. That was the kind of room where you can actually strike up a conversation with anyone in the audience — a rare joy. (Stream Seagrass now!)
One last round of Mario Kart, for kicks.
My goal for the next few months: I want to have more best days ever. Less staring at a screen alone, more frolicking with the besties. Isn’t that what spring is all about?
What’s On
Met Opera: La Rondine
Tue Apr 2
Fri Apr 5
Tue Apr 9
Sat Apr 13 (matinee)
Tue Apr 16
Sat Apr 20 (matinee)
Met Opera House
Heartbeat Opera: Eugene Onegin
Tue Apr 2
Thu Apr 4 (sold out)
Sat Apr 6
Sun Apr 7
Tue Apr 9
Thu Apr 11
Sat Apr 13 (sold out)
Baruch Performing Arts Center
Heartbeat Opera: The Extinctionist
Wed Apr 3
Fri Apr 5
Sun Apr 7 (matinee)
Wed Apr 10
Fri Apr 12
Sun Apr 14 (matinee)
Baruch Performing Arts Center
Composer Portrait: Sarah Hennies
Thu Apr 4 | Miller Theatre, Columbia University
NY Phil: Alice Sara Ott Performs Ravel (+ Webern, Strauss, Scriabin)
Thu-Sat Apr 4-6 (Fri late morning) | David Geffen Hall
Poiesis Quartet
Sun Apr 7 (matinee) | New School Auditorium
Britten’s War Requiem
Sun Apr 7 | St. Bartholomew Church
Music Mondays: Brentano Quartet & Hsin-Yun Huang, viola (FREE)
Mon Apr 8 | Advent Lutheran Church
Mitsuko Uchida & Jonathan Biss, piano — All-Schubert
Tue Apr 9 | Carnegie Hall (Stern/Perelman)
Anthony Davis & Joan Ross Sorkin’s The Reef
Wed Apr 10 | Merkin Hall, Kaufman Music Center
Juilliard415: Con molti Stromenti
Thu Apr 11 | Alice Tully Hall
Ensemble Modern
Fri Apr 12 & Sat Apr 13 | Carnegie Hall (Zankel)
Mahan Esfahani, harpsichord
Fri Apr 12 | Carnegie Hall (Weill)
Stile Antico: A Divine Hope
Sat Apr 13 | Church of St. Mary the Virgin
Music Before 1800 — Constantinople & Accademia del Piacere: From Seville to Isfahan
Sun Apr 14 | Corpus Christi Church
Kronos Quartet and Ghost Train Orchestra play Moondog
Tue Apr 16 | The Town Hall
MOCH ft. Ingrid Laubrock & Keisuke Matsuno
Wed Apr 17 | The Jazz Gallery
Danish String Quartet: Doppelgänger IV
Thu Apr 18 | Carnegie Hall (Zankel)
Toomai String Quintet: Cuban Premieres (FREE)
Thu Apr 18 | Americas Society
NY Phil: Prokofiev’s Fifth and Olga Neuwirth
Thu-Sat Apr 18-20 | David Geffen Hall
Catapult Opera: La ville morte
Thu-Sun Apr 19-21 (Sun matinee) | NYU Skirball
TENET: Power of Mythology
Sat Apr 20 | St. Paul’s Chapel, Trinity Wall Street
Sunday Organ Recital: Carolyn Craig (FREE)
Sun Apr 21 (early evening) | Cathedral Church of St. John the Divine
Bargemusic: Trio Wanderer
Mon Apr 22 (early evening) | Bargemusic, DUMBO
Met Opera: El Niño
Tue Apr 23
Sat Apr 27
(continues into May)
Met Opera House
Orchestra of the S.E.M. Ensemble (FREE)
Wed Apr 24 | Bohemian National Hall
NY Phil: Hilary Hahn and the Sounds of Spain
Thu-Sat Apr 25-27 | David Geffen Hall
Isidore String Quartet
Thu Apr 25 | The 92nd Street Y
Matthias Goerne and Evgeny Kissin
Thu Apr 25 | Carnegie Hall (Stern/Perelman)
Yale Baroque Opera Project: Dido and Aeneas
Fri Apr 26 & Sun Apr 28 (matinee) | University Theater, Yale University
Paul Lewis, piano: Schubert Cycle I
Sat Apr 27 | Washington Irving High School
Yale Schola Cantorum and Juilliard415: Bach’s Mass in B Minor
Sat Apr 27 | Woolsey Hall, Yale University
This post made me all warm and fuzzy - yay for best days ever, good food, and renaissance polyphony. A holy trinity if there ever was one.