New York Concert Review, Summer 2001 Edition

 Dr. Kris Palmer, flute

Dmitriy Cogan, piano

Weill Recital Hall at Carnegie Hall

April 29, 2001

 As the Recipient of a Special Presentation Award from Artists International, Dr. Kris Palmer was presented in her New York Recital Debut at Weill Hall.

Palmer offered incisive and expressive performances in a program of wide variety that spanned four centuries of cultural diversity. Beginning with Kuhlau's Introduction and Variations on a Theme of Weber, Op. 63, Palmer reveled in the display of virtuosity upon which this music depends. Weber's tune, in its simplicity, lends itself to all manner of elaboration; Kuhlau left no stone unturned. He crafted this extensive work for optimum effect at a ladies luncheon in Peoria. It certainly runs the gamut of both flute and piano figuration in distinctly ludicrous progress - ludicrous because its end result in no way justifies the great demands made upon the performers to reach the double bar.

Of more interest was the following Exotic Impressions, Op. 134 of Karg-Elert. This composer flourished during the time of Debussy, Scriabin, and Schoenberg, dipping into their pots of inspiration to forge his own mannered style. Palmer performed each of these five short pieces to great effect. Particularly enchanting was the narcotic Lotus in its dreamy haze and Evocation of a Brahma suffused with touches of Indian musical signatures. The Hummingbird was aptly played on the piccolo.

Lowell Liebermann's Sonata, Op. 23 (1987), heard with ever increasing frequency at concerts these days, got a splendid performance tonight. Palmer inhabited the Lento con rubato with sensuous tone and pace, seamlessly joining the flute's registers into one voice. The following Presto energico was its spiky foil, delivered with all the propulsion one could hope for. Most performers go no further, but Palmer described larger structures; this elevated the music from its apparent perpetuum mobile quality to realms of greater scope. Her excellent collaborator, pianist Dmitriy Cogan, played no small part in this satisfying realization. Here as throughout the program, Mr. Cogan was a sensitive partner of equal thrust and pattern. An expert pianist of wide ability, he shone in solos - the Kuhlau sports a rousing variation for piano - no less than in subtle blend with the flute. I appreciated his great attention to detail that never so much as hinted at the finicky but was absorbed into a greater largesse.

After an intermission, Dr. Palmer performed thirteen of the twenty-four variations comprising Les Folies d'Espagne (1701) by Marais. Originally written for viol, Palmer insists they can be performed on the flute. Lending credence to this assertion was her bewitching rendition. The theme is a series of harmonic progressions, its melody being whatever tone sits atop. The modal insinuations are haunting and provide the basis for an extended musing by way of ornamentation. Dr. Palmer's knowledge of early 18th century French agrements is comprehensive and refined; she exercised great taste and feeling in their use to celebrate the music as given. Palmer is clearly among the few current performers on any instrument to fully understand the nature of this music. It speaks so exotically to our modem ears that are more accustomed to the conventions of Italian and German Baroque sensibilities.

Mike Mower (b.1958) is a British composer/flutist/ saxophonist with a clear penchant for jazz. In his Sonata Latino (1994) of three movements - Salsa Montunate - Rumbango - Bossa Merengova - Palmer and Cogan had a fun time fusing the classical, jazz, and pop elements into the underlying Latino dance rhythms. One imagines the score to be quite tricky in its detail; much of the music has the intention to sound as though two jazz cats are bopping in improvisational oblivion. Indeed, the two performers achieved that end with ultimate abandon. The musical content often evokes the cheesy type of stuff geared to serve as sonic wallpaper in the Smoke Bar aboard any cruise ship plying Caribbean waters. Frankly, I never want to find out whether or not Mower was seeking to capture that scene. It's too depressing.

Ending tonight's program was a performance of Briccialdi's The Wind, Op. 112. This was cheese of another sort, not so processed, but hardly the noble Stilton. The title is descriptive of the gusts, nips, gentle breezes, and eddies that Palmer brought to life in this silly showpiece. A beautiful melodic section saves the work from its otherwise unspeakably puerile essay, but Palmer's overall delivery of the recurring cantilena boasted the lovely shaping on which the reputations of Grisi, Ravogli, and Patti stood.

For an encore, Dr. Palmer played the beautiful Flute and Drum at Twilight (1981) of Tan Mi-zi. As with so much Chinese music, this piece is descriptive of earthly nature and uses the onomatopoeia of bird song as a major component. The percussion on one of the flute's keys provided a beautiful sound like that of a drum heard from afar. Exquisite melodic profiles had ultimately gentle effect in Palmer's loving performance. An early teacher of hers, Roger Stevens, received the score from Tan while on a visit to China in 1981. He in turn gave it to Palmer. And now she to us. This made for a very special moment, one that links composer to teacher to student, then completes a human circuit when the student - now an artist - so generously gives it to others.

-Darrell Rosenbluth