Critic-at-Large

Host, Lesley Valdes

Daniel Barenboim, piano
Master Musicians Series
Kimmel Center/Verizon Hall

The German Steinway stood off-center, and Daniel Barenboim, who is not tall, looked an antihero walking under Verizon's spotlight. In a hall vast and dramatic, the pianist-maestro Monday night played four pieces whose volume rarely exceeded triple piano.

Intimacy for 2,700 pairs of ears.

The program, Liszt in Italy, included the second book of the Years of Pilgrimage, the music with which Liszt changed direction, heard the essence of things, the way that Turner saw the essence of light. If Chopin been listening in, he would have been envious: so easeful was Liszt's filigree, so economical, almost no motion to Barenboim's fingerwork. The music played so quietly was the trio of Sonnets from Petrarch, which expresses the poet's longing, no pathos, for his Laura. No. 104, the best-known, chases love's contradictions as melodies blaze into view, cross over, disappear. No. 123 is a lesson in harmonic grace.

Intensity from the inside out.

The spirit aims for the cosmos with St. Francis Preaching to the Birds, from The Legends written in Rome late in the composer's life, when he'd taken minor orders. The score is still so daring of timbre and structure, Olivier Messaien comes to mind. On and on, its energies, its beauties, and those trills, suspend us. The spell was broken, forcefully with the Fantasy quasi Sonata After a lecture on Dante. Tumult and tempest, this masterpiece can use a maestro at the keyboard. One or two messy passages and that harshness Barenboim's pounding can produce: small price for the sensitivity and cohesion.

To end, the composer's bread and butter: Three Paraphrases on Operas of Verdi. Rigoletto's bouncing tune, with its slashing interruptions, made clear the pianist's enjoyment after the tragic darkness of Trovatore. Aida was sublime, heard from a distance, sacred dance, and shroud. One encore: Schubert's Moman Moozikow the one in F Minor.

It's a Wonderful Life, a Radio Play
Prince Music Theatre
Joe Landry
December 4 - 21, 2008

Joe Landry's It's a Wonderful Life, A Live Radio Play is one alternative to the Nutcrackers and Christmas Carols. It just opened at the Prince on Chestnut Street with a convincing staging and good talent but one big caveat. Broadcasting in the 1940s had golden voices, and comforting style. Unfortunately this isn't what you get from Jered McLenigan whose idea of an old time radio host is a wink, leer, and racecourse chatter. McLenigan has the central role. He introduces the radio play before it becomes the Frank Capra movie. He's a fine mimic, and takes multiple parts in the story that most of us know so well. But the interpretation is hyperactive and his voice is raspy. The style he's chosen is so irritating, McLenigan does no service to any media, then or now. Working to better results but not up to their usual high standards are Peter Pryor in the Jimmy Stewart role of the Good Guy George Bailey who goes from crisis to catastrophe. Tom McCarthy plays Clarence, the Angel, second class. They are stuck in a team that should have begged director Barry McNabb to slow things down.

Landry's 1990s play requires half a dozen actors to double up on parts which they do, often well. They even sing: during the radio breaks for Tastycakes, there are holiday standards. A standout is Rachel Brennan who plays Violet, and all the women of Bedford Falls, some boys, too. Jennifer Page is a fetching Mary Bailey. The onstage pianist, and musical arranger is Collin Maier, who can sings well. Sound designer Jeffrey Lorenz with his Bryl Creamed hair is fun to watch as he goes about his business. Maxine Johnson's costumes and Liz Burrow's set suit the period. Much works in this Wonderful Life at the Prince, but not the timing.