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Performance Reviews

• Review: MARK TWAIN TONIGHT! - Ever the Twain Shall Meet
  By Derek Mong - March 18, 2008


• Review: THE TEN TENORS
  By Shera Cohen - March 14, 2008


• Review: NATALIE MACMASTER
  By Eric Sutter - March 2, 2008


• Review: LATE NITE CATECHISM - Laughter Can Become a Habit
  By Jeffrey Borak - February 21, 2008


• Review: LATE NITE CATECHISM
  By J. Peter Bergman - February 19 , 2008


• Review: ELVIS BIRTHDAY BASH
  By Eric Sutter - January 19, 2008


• Review: Ladysmith Black Mambazo Gives Riveting Performance
  By Ronald K. Baker - January 18, 2008


• Review: Arlo Guthrie concerts in Pittsfield and Springfield, MA
  By Dave Conlin – November 26, 2007


• Review: ISH Institute - A New Generation of Culture
  Radio Netherlands - September 7, 2007


• Review : KRONOS QUARTET
  By Seth Rogovoy - October 19, 2006


• Review: AUDRA MCDONALD - A Soprano So Sure She Can Caterwaul
  By Stephen Holden - October 13, 2006

Review: MARK TWAIN TONIGHT! - Ever the Twain Shall Meet
By Derek Mong - March 18, 2008

It's a good joke, and one his boomer-or-older crowd (the show played the Colonial theater on March 8) greeted with knowing laughter. It's also a telling metaphor, shedding light (and a little smoke) on the night's three stars: Holbrook himself, his alter-ego Twain, and the show they've assembled to feel less like a one-man tour-de-force than a collaboration.

But first, a few numbers: Holbrook turned 83 in February. Twain died in 1910, at 75 years old. "Mark Twain Tonight!" has debuted over 2,000 times, rewritten nightly. Let me explain: since first encountering Twain through an honors project at Denison University (my alma mater), Holbrook's perfected more than 300 separate skits for his one-man show. He first soloed in 1954, and last appeared Off-Broadway in 2005.
Holbrook's lived with Twain and aged with Twain, and can recall aspects of the man with the ease of breathing.

There was no shortage of crack-ups or classics at the Colonial. Act One functioned primarily as in-character standup, the anecdotes and aphorisms shook from every branch of the oeuvre. Like Twain, Holbrook knows how to lead with laughter, and consequently we meet: 1) a bent-over grandfather who's introduced to a goat's horns, 2) the many virtues of cigar smoking and 3) a shovel Twain admired so much it never went anywhere near dirt.

At one point Holbrook even pretends to fall asleep, in a stately chair, mid-sentence — perhaps a joshing reference to the night's attending demographic? My partner used the silence to lean over and ask, "Can you believe how many cheap laughs he gets out of us?" I listened to the phony snoring and agreed. And yet we couldn't help ourselves, we were that entertained. By the second act, however, Holbrook replaced the chuckle with Twain's cynical wisdom. The postintermission topics included politics, humanity's survival chances, and evolution — and though the aphorisms kept coming, their tone had shifted to the instructive or the morose. An example: "The tyranny of the political party turns us into slaves or rabbits," and "the French may turn out to be the missing link between man and the monkey." My personal favorite: "We know insanity is inherited, we get it from our children."

And it's in this context that I find the cigar metaphor most compelling — it greets us with humor, but closes with a morbid truth. Taking a closer look, we see that pattern played out in that single line. First there's irreverence: we laugh to see the light of life ("I came into this world looking for a light") reduced to a search for tobacco's first spark. We snort at the thought that our farewell, our death ("I'm gonna leave blowing smoke rings") could just as simply drift across a saloon.

I'm tickled too by the comparison's understated phallic joke: life's course follows the shrinking of a cigar from first light to last puff. Likewise, I'm thrilled by the subtle self-deprecation, for what do we say for those with nothing to say than, they're just "blowing smoke?"

Still, when Holbrook speaks of smoke rings, jokingly or otherwise, he's clearly speaking of himself as well. By all accounts "Mark Twain Tonight!" is not a gig he'll soon give up (at 83, Holbrook's made Twain the younger man) and we as an audience will follow him as he follows it to the grave. For Holbrook, every geriatric joke, every age-related lamentation ("I wonder if a person ever ceases to feel young?") is also self-prescribed.

To some this may seem a morbid thought, but I'd argue there's joy here. Like his idol's pseudonym, Holbrook's octogenarian art leads us down a river half understood, half uncharted. Samuel Clemens first heard the words "mark twain!" while steamboating the Mississippi, a cry let out when the water measured two fathoms deep: the middle line between passable and dangerous. Every time Holbrook takes the stage, checks his prop pocket watch, the water line dips a little out of his favor. And yet he seems intent on continuing, and we intent on watching. When Holbrook acted out "Huck's Conscience," playing the parts of Jim, Huck and the slave trader all at once, I found myself nearer to those characters, Huck's climactic choice, than the page could previously afford. Here was an old man playing a young boy, and the silence of a packed house waiting for the next line. Here was an actor arguably more melded to a character than any of his generation. Here was a simple production that balanced the cigar.

Act One opened to lights flooding Holbrook, the scant set and props. Act Two began with smoke billowing from behind the Colonial's thick curtains, stage right. Even the stagecraft moved from light to smoke.

Derek Mong contributes to iberkshires.com

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Review: THE TEN TENORS
By Shera Cohen - March 14, 2008

Two math questions. What is Il Divo x 3.33? Hummm? Let’s make it easier? What are The Three Tenors x 2.5? Answer -- The Ten Tenors, or affectionally dubbed TTT. These Aussies combine camaraderie, energy, and animated choreography of a football team with debonair charm, wit, and professionalism of Wall Street bankers. They are personable, relaxed, and as one of the members referred to all, “incredibly good looking.” They are the boys next door, if the boys had voices like Pavarotis in the making.

Starting as impromptu street singers, the classmates launched their career performing in every town and hamlet in their homeland, quickly cut a CD, and then ventured to Europe. Except for one PBS performance, few in this country have had the opportunity to hear TTT. Now on their first North American tour, these boys are fast becoming known and applauded, and not just for their pretty faces. They can sing!

As a unit, TTT is at its best – whether singing as one voice or as a group sporadically highlighting individuals within sections of songs. It is clearly evident that each vocalist has his unique singing style, range, and genre expertise. They also can sing anything – and do!

There are folk, pop, rock, Australian pieces, disco, and a lot of opera. One of the men told the audience that they would perform, “opera without the boring bits.” The repertoire shifts from Puccini to Queen, “Waltzing Matilda” to Dean Martin’s “Volare,” the Tarantella to Simon & Garfunkle, and Verdi to the Bee Gees. Envision ten businessmen walking out of an office, instantly singing “Saturday Night Fever” as a chorus line performing disco moves.

While the singers promised no encores, they lied. There were three, with standing ovations after each. The last was perhaps the best tenor aria ever written – “Nessun dorma” from “Turandot.” What an evening!

The wonderful experience of this concert starts before spotlights go up and a note is sung. It begins upon entering the newly renovated 100-year-old Colonial Theatre. Millions have obviously been spent in keeping the original historic luster. The venue was breath-taking, and every dime was well-spent. Pittsfield’s residents should feel proud of their good work in turning their arts around 180 degrees. Pittsfield is very much a destination point.

Shera Cohen contributes to inthespotlight.com

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Review: NATALIE MACMASTER
By Eric Sutter - March 2, 2008

Natalie MacMaster comes from the high cliffs of Cape Breton, Nova Scotia. She started fiddling at age 9 and step-dancing at age 5. With attractive looks she lives and breathes this unique culture through her music and dance.

In all her splendid glory she moved from Gaelic airs to reels and jigs. Her back-up band included equally competent musicians who quickened the spirit. The spritely "Sweet as a Bird" was an exquisite balance of sweetness and sinew. Clog rhythms were evidenced in the spine-tingling excitement of "Volcanic Jig" as she tapped out the tune with fancy dance steps. With driving energy and irresistible charm she showed the audience what a Cape Breton party was all about. Evidently there existed plenty of Celtic DNA in the audience judged by the response of sheer joy. "Joshephine's Waltz" was a soulful balanced interplay between heartfelt cello and fiddle.

Into the light she played and danced while the backdrop lighting changed from hues of pink and blue to green and purple which softened or bolstered the music accordingly. She was dressed in effervescent blue. Oftentimes she cavorted around the cello player or bass man and coaxed them to play mightily. Drawing energy from them she suddenly turned and cut into rousing fiddle tunes.

The second half of the program brought an awesome bagpipe solo. The woeful slow air "Lament for the Death" conjured up a graveness of spirit. The delicate calm lasted until the fired up and mischievous, "Madness Medley" which oscillated between flashy fiddling and funky world beat bass and drum jams interspersed with Nathaniel Smith's moving cello solo, "What a Wonderful World."

MacMaster's boundless energy was displayed on the closing foot-tapping rave-up, "Pretty Mary." She performed a Celtic Michael Jackson moonwalk dance which was pure exhilaration. To be sure, MacMaster possesses Celtic beauty, grace and soul and is a source of inspiration to many lovers of modern Celtic and Appalachian music.

Eric Sutter contributes to inthespotlight.com

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Review: LATE NITE CATECHISM - Laughter Can Become a Habit
By Jeffrey Borak - February 21, 2008

PITTSFIELD - Warning: Sister doesn't tolerate latecomers. Her "Late Nite Catechism" at The Colonial Theatre begins promptly and anyone coming in even one second late is in for it — no matter how far back you sit. If she catches you, I assure you it will be some time before she'll let you sit. And if you don't think she's effective, a slight dip of the lobby lights to signal the end of the "break" at her first class Tuesday night was all it took to start a minor stampede back into the auditorium.
"This is the fastest I've ever seen people come back after intermission," one usher, er, class assistant, remarked as I hurried by, swept along by the tide.

Sister — she declined to reveal her full Sisterly name when questioned from the audience during a q & a segment — is, in reality, Lela Frechette. From the first click of her clicker at the rear of the auditorium as she begins her firm, no-nonsense walk down the aisle, Frechette, er, Sister, leaves no doubt who is in charge. Her interaction with the audience is masterly.

One gentleman clearly didn't want to "play" along with Sister. "I don't want to do this," he said insistently and grimly, finally getting up and retiring to the safety of the balcony where he was joined later by his wife, who looked somewhat awkward and apprehensive under Sister's questioning.

Sister's "class" is good-natured harmless fun, part tongue-in-cheek reminiscence about the good old days of the Church and lamenting the hard times upon which it has fallen — she does reference the impending closing of six of Pittsfield's 10 churches. Sister is the last nun standing in her own church, St. Bruno's, where it's down to just she and the janitor.
Along the way, Sister gets off some very good lines. The only real difference between Jews and Catholics, she quips at one point, is that Jews invented guilt, "we prevent it."

You needn't feel any guilt about enjoying "Late Nite Catechism." Just put away those cell phones, or Sister will do it for you.

And don't be late.

Jeffrey Borak is the Entertainment Editor for The Berkshire Eagle

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Review: LATE NITE CATECHISM
By J. Peter Bergman - February 19 , 2008
 
"Before the time of semi-automatic weapons in the classroom..."

Have you wondered why the Catholic Church decided to close six churches, all at once, in Pittsfield? Has it occurred to you that kissing the highly bejeweled, 18 carat gold ring on the finger of a Pontiff has no effect at all on your salvation? Do you still believe that being good and holding an "I’m Catholic. Call a Priest" card or medal can send your soul straight to heaven? These questions, and more, will all be answered for you, if you listen closely and participate in the Q&A session, at the adult catechism class being held at the Colonial Theatre in Pittsfield this week. One thing - don’t be late; Sister doesn’t like that.

In a one-woman tour-de-force comedy, "Late Nite Catechism" featuring Lela Frechette as Sister, playwrights Quade and Donovan set forth a series of lessons that are much gentler than the ones played out for you in Christopher Durang’s "Sister Mary Ignatius Explains It All For You." In that comedy the titled nun goes crazy and exterminates the bad boys and girls right in front of your eyes. Nothing so drastic happens here, although Sister’s collection of miniature chairs made out of rulers broken over the hands, knees and backs of bad little children does have an emotional impact.

This comedy is highly interactive. Sister stalks her classroom, you the audience, and she lectures on topics as wide-ranging as the Old Testament, the condition of Limbo and the Stigmata. She regales us with bible tales and catholic humor. She taunts us until we respond, diddles us with adverbs hoping for a complete sentence answer to one of her questions and offers us, as rewards, plastic relics, convertible crosses and statues of questionable saints.

The topic of the saints engages her interest for quite a while. She examines the history of several scheduled for disenfranchising by the sitting Pope. Of course, this nun has her own opinions about the men and women in question and she makes her own deliberate - and quite correct - decisions.

Don’t think for a minute that you have to be Catholic, or the product of parochial schooling, to get the jokes, feel the ruler crack or learn your historically accurate concepts and phrases. No. This is a class for anyone, Catholic, Protestant, Jew, anyone. And anyone is fodder for this teaching nun’s sharp-eyed wit.

Lela Frechette, who plays Sister, seems unflappable. Audience member who get out of line, get her whip-like reactions. Good little Catholic girls get her stamp of approval and a prize.There’s an opportunity to learn things you never thought - in your wildest dreams - you’d know. How to sell your house effectively, for example, using the good graces of St. Joseph. Frechette seems to take particular delight in this anecdote and she milks it for all its worth. She is equally good at her biblical imitations: Adam, Jesus, Mary, to name a few. As she puts it, "not bad, huh?"

Frechette, alone unless you count her victims, or students, holds the stage for just over two hours with a short intermission. It’s a tribute to her stand-up technique that nothing really phases her in this show. She roles with each variation the audience provides and even answers snappy questions with a seemingly improvised response that stays right in character.

Director Marc Silvia keeps the show afloat. Sister could sit, but she never really did in the opening night performance in Pittsfield. Instead she rambled, roamed and wore a track in the floor as she literally staked the audience for God. Whatever you do, don’t let her thick eyeglasses fool you. This nun can see you, see into your soul, see through you. And she can hear you wherever you are, so sitting in the back, or even in the balcony, won’t keep you safe during your two-hour, adult makeup catechism class.

It is said that you cannot hide from God. Maybe you can, but you can’t hide from Sister.

J. Peter Bergman contributes to Berkshirebrightfocus.com

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Review: ELVIS BIRTHDAY BASH
By Eric Sutter - January 19, 2008

"We will all be received in Graceland"... so goes the line of the song by Paul Simon. The Elvis Birthday Bash starring Scot Bruce as the young Elvis and Mike Albert as Elvis of the 70s proved the spirit of Elvis Presley transcended the ranks of mortal fame. Since his death in 1977, this ever-changing 20th Century icon has survived and spawned countless Elvis impersonators to keep the Elvis mythical status growing in the new century.

Scot Bruce uncannily resembled the young Elvis dressed in black slacks, blue sports coat, black and white two-tone shoes and a pompadour haircut. Along with the 7 piece Big E Band, he strummed his Martin guitar and shook his hips to early hits including "Heartbreak Hotel", "Don't Be Cruel" and "Love Me Tender." Halfway through, he pared down to a trio and performed the first Sun singles, "That's All Right (Mama) and "Blue Moon of Kentucky." Other hits followed as the band rocked "A Fool Such As I" and Bruce crooned "Can't Help Falling In Love." They ended with the swivel of "Hound Dog" as Bruce swaggered like the Fifties Elvis rocker.

Mike Albert proved Elvis has survived in more than one form. Albert added a female back-up singer and celebrated his 70's Vegas showman Elvis. Dressed in a Tiger decorated white jumpsuit with bell bottoms he cut into "C.C. Ryder" and the smash from 1972, "Burning Love." Albert's charisma and ability to involve the audience proved to be a crowd pleaser. As he sang the ballad "Are You Lonesome Tonight" he beckoned a female to join him on stage for a sing and swing. His powerful voice lent itself well to "It's Now or Never" and "My Way." His versatile voice cried the "Steamroller Blues" and gospel "How Great Thou Art" equally well. During the swamp-rocker "Polk Salad Annie" he relished it's stop-start rhythm which gave him an opportunity to demonstrate his karate routines during the instrumental breaks while the exaggerated imagery of flashing lights worked it's magic. A couple of songs, "In the Ghetto" and "Suspicious Minds," pushed a strong emotional response during the Comeback Special segment of the show.

In true Vegas style, "Viva Las Vegas" veered into cabaret-style slickness with the ensemble dramatically successful. The closing "American Trilogy" was thrillingly loud but soothing as the American Flag descended on to the center of the stage above the entertainers. Happy 73rd Birthday, Elvis.

Eric Sutter contributes to inthespotlight.com

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Review: Ladysmith Black Mambazo Gives Riveting Performance
By Ronald K. Baker - January 18, 2008

PITTSFIELD - The mercury dropped with a resounding thud signaling the end of unseasonably mild temperatures for January in the Berkshires. Patrons huddled together as they walked briskly to the Colonial theater, grateful to have found one of the highly coveted parking spaces nearby.

A full house, indeed. "Great," a well-pleased David Fleming, artistic director, announced as he introduced the much-heralded guest artists on Wednesday night. Dispensing with further adieu, Ladysmith Black Mambazo took to the stage and immediately began to captivate the audience.

The all-male octet's brightly-colored matching shirts, white shoes and alternately bold and beguiling moves served as a backdrop for the compelling and plaintiff vocals of lead singer and founder Joseph Shabalala.

The voices and the visuals were equally riveting. One dare not look away. The group used eight stationary microphones on stands while Shabalala moved around the front of the stage enjoying the freedom of a cordless one.

It's hard to imagine a more acoustically perfect setting than the Colonial to hear a group like Ladysmith. Their nuances of style, dynamics, harmonies and virtuosity were met with an enraptured hush from veteran and new audience members alike.  Every breath sound that the group used for effect was audible, as was each tap of the foot or click of the tongue. The leader seemed to magically control the singers without visible signs of conducting. It was as though he held the bellows of an accordion. Now and again, the South African singers purposely stepped back from the mikes and echoed a phrase. It sounded like someone had shut off the sound system momentarily. It had a wild effect, like hearing the singing of another group far off in the distance.

The phrase "well-oiled machine" comes to mind as an ersatz descriptor for the ensemble's singing and choreography. In particular, they used portamento so skillfully it came off as unison, no mean feat for eight voices. The same was true for percussive, staccato, special effects as well as for collective, legato passages – all seemingly orchestrated by the leader as if by mental telepathy.

It's hard to talk about Ladysmith without gushing. Superlatives seem inadequate.  But it's easy to see why they have amassed 47 years singing together. They sing almost exclusively in their native Zulu tongue, yet while their stories come across as enjoyable pieces of music, it would have been helpful to have a synopsis of the content of each song as is often done in the opera. While it was easy to see that many of the songs told elaborate stories, often they were lamentably inscrutable.

The group's collective and individual athleticism is only exceeded by their musicianship and technical prowess. They are, at once, exuberant and subtle, alternately brash and beckoning. Humor, improvisation, ostentation and even intimidation, merge with good effect. 

One the high points of the concert was Shabalala introducing his youngest son.  (He has four sons who sing with the group.) Thompson Shabalala took center stage. He sang strongly and also had an elegant, youthful falsetto. During his solo, the elder Shabalala left the stage in apparent deference to the next generation of Mambazo. 

After intermission, most of the audience reconvened. What else did the group have by way of surprises? How much a cappella singing and dazzling choreography would prove to be too much? It turns out that Ladysmith had saved their social comment for the second half. Themes of political and social unrest, some historical, inspiring, some even embarrassing, played out in subsequent selections. Much of the aforementioned was not for the faint of heart. Shabalala held a mirror up to white society as he purposely sought to unbalance the listener with an accurate, albeit somewhat painful, look at the old, and not so old, South Africa.  

But tension had a way of dissipating, and Ladysmith retook the moral high ground as goodwill ambassadors. One member of the group had great fun taunting the audience with the prospect of a World Cup soccer match played out between the United States and South Africa. "You're going to lose," he admonished good naturedly.

For its tour de force, the group's final selection featured each member individually in a dance improvisation reminiscent of break-dancing. Their enthusiasm and energy, even after two hours of performance, was mind boggling.  One after another took center stage kicking over his head, dropping to the floor into a squat, getting back up, waving his arms, spinning, flailing, strutting, and then kicking some more. It was a wild romp. The audience loved it.

Ladysmith Black Mambazo was not allowed to get away without an encore. The applause was determined and persistent and didn't go unrewarded. The group retook the stage to perform a final number that had an apparent reverence for them. The Colonial's solid-colored backdrop morphed into a weedy jungle scene.  Shabalala relinquished his center position in favor of standing in line with the others. The unison anthem transported the listener to Africa in a poignant and evocative moment.

Thanks for a most enjoyable trip, Ladysmith.

Ronald K. Baker is a contributor to Muzikreviews.com.

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Arlo Guthrie’s 1967 mega-hit “Alice’s Restaurant Massacree” had no bigger fan when it came out than me, then a freshman in college. By the summer of 1969, I’d dropped out and was ordered to report to the South Boston Navy yard to be “injected, inspected, detected, infected, neglected and selected.” I, too, was informed that I was unfit to serve.
Present for a live broadcast of “Alice’s Restaurant Massacree Revisited” at the Guthrie Center in Housatonic ten or so years ago, I marvelled at how well Guthrie had updated it, to include Richard Nixon and the mysterious gap in the Watergate Tapes.

Hearing it on successive nights, Nov. 16th at the Colonial Theatre in Pittsfield and then at Symphony Hall in Springfield, was a bit of a drag, however, and it was apparent that Guthrie has had enough, too. In fact, he announced that he’d just made a deal to play the Colonial every year around Thanksgiving, adding that “the 50th anniversary is probably the next time you’ll hear (it).”

Removing it from the setlist will make room for more of Guthrie’s exquisite treatment of other people’s songs, and for him to play more of his own affecting and timely work, such as his Hurricane Katrina lament, “In Times Like These.”
That is the title song on his recent release which was recorded live with the University of Kentucky Symphony Orchestra, directed by John Nardolillo, who conducted the Springfield Symphony for the Nov. 17th concert.
A highlight of both concerts was the version of “St. James Infirmary” (also on the new CD) that Guthrie learned from his father Woody’s sidekick Cisco Houston. The solo version is superb, his rich voice and deft guitar play cast a spell on the audience. The orchestral version, with some especially nice trombone and clarinet riffs, carried everybody all the way to the Big Easy.

Both nights Guthrie played “My Peace,” a recently discoverd lyric of Woody Guthrie’s that he wrote music for; a simple, sweet song, and a poignant collaboration that defies death.

Dave Conlin contributes to NewBerkshire.com

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Review: ISH Institute - A New Generation of Culture
Radio Netherlands - September 7, 2007
Click to listen to the report

When summer arrives in the US state of Massachusetts, it brings with it a wave of culture hungry visitors who flock to the annual arts festival in the Berkshires. This year visitors can expect to be treated to a cultural feast of art, music and dance from the Netherlands, and with something for everyone on the menu, even those unfamiliar with cultural festivals should not be put off!

A group of eight young instructors from the ISH Institute, an Amsterdam arts institute famed for its heady mix of theatre, dance, sport and urban culture, have made their way to the Massachusetts city of Pittsfield. There they will stage a spectacular performance in collaboration with a group of local students who are trying to stay on the straight and narrow.

Creative youth
Pittsfield is the largest city in Berkshire County, yet the arts and culture that pervades the area has, until now, been of little benefit to the young people growing up there. There is little for young people to do in the area, which has led to underage drinking and teen pregnancies amongst the youth population.

Jeanne Wikler, head of cultural affairs at the Netherlands consulate in New York, believes ISH can help change this. The programme of theatre skills workshops offered by ISH will give 35 students from Pittsfield High the opportunity to develop their creative sides, but at the same time it will keep them off the streets.

ISH already has experience in working with what Jeanne Wikler describes as "at-risk youth". Charlotte Lammers, company manager of the ISH team in Pittsfield, explains: "We are specialised in working with these kids because we use a lot of street culture in our performances and that is something kids from lower-classes like…so it's easy to connect with them."

Cultural vision
What is most important is that young people in Pittsfield are being given the opportunity to feel connected with culture. Jeanne Wikler describes the vision of the theatre which is backing the ISH-Pittsfield partnership:
"The Colonial Theatre wanted the local young people to feel that it was theirs as well, to feel at home here. Normally they wouldn't set foot in a theatre. They wanted to make them feel like they owned it. So they embraced the idea of the ISH Institute so that the kids could actually create a work here and perform it, so that they know that this place is for them as well."

The role ISH plays in helping bring culture to the lives of young people in Pittsfield is therefore crucial, moreover since its main goal, "to act as an eye opener", can potentially help the at-risk youth realise they can really become something.

http://www.radionetherlands.nl/radioprogrammes/artsandculture/070709ish

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German philosopher Theodor Adorno is reputed to have said, “After the Holocaust there can be no poetry.” And although his remark has been widely misinterpreted to mean that art is futile in the face of the worst of human calamities, it does and has always raised the very real challenge of dealing with something as monumental as the purposeful destruction of an entire race of people in a single work of art – a painting, a film, a poem.

Given its mostly purely abstract and formal qualities, music might be the art form best equipped to deal with the seemingly insurmountable challenges presented by the monstrosity of the Nazi Holocaust. And one would be hard put to find a more effective attempt at addressing the banalities and clichés of the Nazi efforts to exterminate the Jews than in composer Steve Reich’s landmark 1988 composition, Different Trains, written for the Kronos Quartet, and which served as the centerpiece of the group’s program at Pittsfield’s Colonial Theatre on Friday night on the occasion of Reich’s seventieth birthday.

As it happens, Different Trains is also Reich at his best – his supreme achievement, blending his masterful patterning of melody on the human voice; phasing tape loops and live musicians; using repetition of rhythm for emotional affect; and injecting very personal and autobiographical elements into his compositions, here being the contrast of his own intercontinental train trips as a young boy living a bicoastal life in the U.S. at the very same time that cattle cars were transporting Jews to death camps all over central and Eastern Europe.

And as it happens, as it was on Friday night, Different Trains also showcased the Kronos Quartet at its best – certainly at its most challenging and provocative, but also its most adventurous, working with pre-recorded tape loops and voice recordings to build a miniature symphony of sound expressing both pain and beauty while allowing for the individual musicians to add their own expression to a composition that could just be a piece of industrial music but instead winds up being the most humanist of works. Lead violinist David Harrington in particular wrung pathos out of the repeated ostinatoes that paralleled the mechanical sounds of trains that hinted at the agonies that might have been felt by those trapped inside.

But Friday night’s concert was about more than just Reich’s Different Trains. Kronos perhaps wisely paired that piece, which culminated the second half, with Tenebrae, a slow, meditative, single movement work by perhaps the hottest young composer of our time, Osvaldo Golijov, familiar to Berkshire audiences for his many works performed in recent years at Tanglewood, including this summer’s startling world premiere for Yo Yo Ma titled AZUL. In Kronos’s hands, Tenebrae was elegiac and sorrowful.

The first half of Kronos’s concert was typically eclectic, with the group flaunting its avant-garde and world-music credentials by playing numbers by downtown composer John Zorn, whose Cat o’ Nine Tails was a postmodern take on cartoon music; several numbers by Rahul Dev Burman – think of him as the John Williams of the Indian film industry, or Bollywood; and a newly discovered piece by an unknown Iraqi composer aptly titled Oh Mother, the Handsome Man Tortures Me.

And if all that wasn’t cool enough, Kronos took the stage for an encore and offered a string quartet transcription of a tune by Icelandic Sigur Ros, one of the hippest rock bands in the world.

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Review: AUDRA MCDONALD - A Soprano So Sure She Can Caterwaul
By Stephen Holden - October 13, 2006

“Gonna kill my lover man, gonna kill my lover man, gonna kill my lover man!” screams a character named Rosie Pearl in Laura Nyro’s great song “Tom Cat Goodbye,” the cry of a betrayed woman that builds to a peak of frenzied rage rarely expressed in pop songwriting. Howled by Audra McDonald on Wednesday evening at the Allen Room, where she inaugurated the new season of Lincoln Center’s American Songbook series, Ms. McDonald gave herself over completely to this terrifying emotional explosion, allowing her impeccably disciplined lyric soprano to shatter as the lyrics decomposed into a murderous stream-of-consciousness rant.

When it was over, Ms. McDonald remarked that while recording the song on her newest album, “Build a Bridge” (Nonesuch), her husband, Peter Donovan, who played bass on the track, was frightened by her performance in the studio and asked that the volume be lowered.

And there you have the essence of Ms. McDonald, a performer as well mannered and gracious as you could hope to encounter who, when the occasion demands, has the imagination, courage and vocal stamina to turn herself into an avenging fury.

Her willingness to go for broke is what sets Ms. McDonald apart from other operatically trained singers who venture into pop. She can forsake her lush vibrato, straighten out her tone and unleash a caterwaul that cuts across musical categories to seize the essence of the song.

Ms. McDonald did a variation of the same genre-crossing acrobatics in the concert’s opening number, “When Lola Sings,” a sexy custom-written jazz-blues number, composed by Michael John LaChiusa, about a man in love with his double bass. The song’s personal allusions to a bass player, she said, were entirely intentional.

These were the showstoppers in a superb concert, “Audra McDonald and Friends,” that included brief appearances by the composer Jason Robert Brown, who accompanied her on piano for his song “Stars and the Moon”; Nellie McKay, who played piano on a Latin-jazz-flavored version of her coy 50’s-style spoof “I Wanna Get Married”; and Patti LuPone, who joined her for the famous Streisand-Garland duet, “Happy Days Are Here Again” and “Get Happy!” Ms. LuPone, appropriately, sang the Garland part.

(That duet from the old Judy Garland show is in the news this week, since Ms. Streisand performed a stunt version with a George W. Bush impersonator at Madison Square Garden.)

Ms. McDonald put many of her selections into a personal context. She remembered serenading Bill Cosby with “Bill” and realizing almost instantly that this expression of devotion to an ordinary guy could be taken as series of insults. (“He hasn’t got a thing that I can brag about,” goes a lyric that demeans the title character’s looks and intelligence.)

A medium-size chamber ensemble, conducted by Ted Sperling, accompanied Ms. McDonald, whose set included several songs from “Build a Bridge.” Varying perspectives on parenthood, a recurring theme in Ms. McDonald’s repertory, were also addressed in “The Glamorous Life,” “I Won’t Mind” and “Cradle and All.”

Through all her stylistic tangents, what stabilizes Ms. McDonald is the steady current of dramatic lyricism that informs everything she does. Not a word or phrase is allowed to get lost as she pursues the truth of a song. Singing meat-and-potatoes ballads like “Will He Like Me?,” “It Might as Well Be Spring” and “When Did I Fall in Love?,” she maintained an ideal blend of gorgeous sound, emotional engagement and interpretation. One couldn’t ask a singer for more than that.

Stephen Holden contributes to The New York Times

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