A Pure, Shining Talent
Elizabeth Futral
THE QUIRKY HUMOR of host, violinist, and director for Chamber Music Geoff Nuttall adds immeasurably to the enjoyment of the audiences at the twice-daily series of presentations at the Dock Street Theatre. In the stellar musicians’ third foray into Mozart, Handel, and Russian composer Anton Arensky Thursday afternoon, he had lots to say, but it was the remarkable performance of soprano Elizabeth Futral that held the house in thrall.
In Handel’s aria “Da Tempeste” from one of his last opera seria “Julius Caesar,” Cleopatra celebrates Caesar’s return from battle, “her heart beside itself with bliss.” No treatment of this great vehicle for soprano voice have I ever heard that could touch Futral’s glittering rendition.
While no little credit must be given to the great composer, plus the virtuosity of the instrumentalists who accompanied her, Futral negotiated the plethora of trills, runs, and more embellishments than you could count, taken at breakneck speed, with a confidence born of pure, shining talent. Her versatile soprano soared and soared higher, bouncing back to Ground Zero pitch-perfect without exception, requiring absolute breath control, born of excellent training and a wealth of experience.
The day of the portly (to be kind) diva, standing center stage and issuing forth with enviable tones, is, thankfully, long gone, making it a genuine pleasure to see a young, trim, attractive singer involve her whole body, dipping, swaying, and using her arms as gracefully as a prima ballerina. Even the “Dock Street Theatre Baroque Orchestra” (of five?!) who has surely seen and heard it all, seemed impressed, from Pedja Muzijevic on harpsichord to Nuttall and his wife Livia Sohn on violin, Alisa Weilerstein on cello, and Anthony Manzo on double bass.
A veritable clamor arose from the audience, nearly matching the vigor of Futral’s unforgettable performance, as they stood to a man in a mid-concert ovation.
Geoff Nuttall
At the pace the musicians took the opening Mozart Piano Quartet No. 1 in G minor, K. 478, they created their own sensation. Nuttall challenged us to see if we could tell the difference between Mozart’s score and master keyboard artist Pedja Muzijevic’s extemporaneous additions (this sort of embellishment encouraged in 1785). Without a score, of course, this proved impossible, although I suspect that in the variations that follow the theme in the third of the three movements there was as much Pedja as Wolfgang Amadeus. Nuttall’s violin, Hsin-Yun Huang’s viola, and Weilerstein’s cello had plenty to do as well, especially in the first movement’s coda. No wonder “the public,” buying Mozart’s scores and playing them in their own parlors, found this quartet impossibly difficult. Do not try this at home.
What was an added bonus to me, the concluding Arensky Piano Trio No. 1 in D minor, Op. 32, in all its unabashed romanticism, may have been schmaltzy torture for some purists in the crowd. Pianist Inon Barnatan, in perfect tune with this piece written in 1894, the heart of the Romantic tradition, also performs with his whole body, smiling large in the sumptuous passages, not in the least averse to wearing his heart on his face. Violinist Sohn and cellist Christopher Costanza took advantage of every opportunity to use techniques that define that era, from rubato to portamento. This work, greatly influenced by Rimsky-Korsakov and Tchaikovsky, also offers a fine opportunity to distinguish the differences between related instruments: A theme on one string instrument, the violin for example, repeated immediately on another string instrument, like the cello, is an ideal way to hear the variations in tone, color, and range between close cousins.
Such fun it is to indulge in sentiment, when your emotions mirror the expressions on Weilerstein’s face.
