CDs:

• Piffaro: Canzoni e Danze
• Nathan Gunn: Just Before Sunrise

People, get ready. May's a-coming.

This evening Classic Arts Showcase once again ran the clip of the King's Singers performing "O Lusty May," which is as choice a bit of synchronicity as I've experienced, since that's the precise title of an upcoming concert by the Peabody Renaissance Ensemble. Under the sure direction of Mark Cudek, the group will bring its vocal and instrumental charms to DC's Church of the Epiphany on May 3rd for a lively launch to the month of Maying. Huzzah!

It's not often that you have such an ensemble appear, period instruments in hand, to perform everything from Monteverdi to Morley right in the heart of DC. So seize the day and and get your sackbuts over to the Church of the Epiphany on May 3rd for an early music hit parade.

To get into the proper mood beforehand, or generally get your early music groove on, there are numerous options. One of them is, of course, the Baltimore Consort's Gut, Wind and Wire, which I featured in a recent blog entry.

Another is the reissue of Piffaro's Canzoni e Danze, a beguiling instrumental collection showcasing various period instruments. Everybody reading this has no doubt heard the lute, recorder, and bagpipe, but how about the crumhorn, the hurdy-gurdy, and the shawm?

Still, even if the distinctive sounds of an early music ensemble are foreign to your ears, I can promise you this performance of centuries-old tunes will put a spring in your step. That distinctive buzz of the crumhorn, for instance, is quite startling to each new listener, and how I remember it from one of my first early music concerts, but the music itself is timeless and appealing.

Now, getting to Just Before Sunrise, you may be wondering why I've tossed an operatic baritone into this mix. After all, Nathan Gunn isn't performing centuries-old madrigals. Songs by Sting and Billy Joel don't count, no matter how long ago the '70s and '80s seem at this writing.

Well, it all goes back to that "Lusty Month of May" stuff. Like many baby boomers, I spent my childhood listening to my parents' Broadway musical albums, among them the famous recording of Camelot with Richard Burton, Julie Andrews, and Robert Goulet. If you remember the Kennedy administration, you probably remember the songs, particularly the title tune, sung first with assurance and then in a wistful reprise. It was all very stirring, though during childhood I didn't really take in the meaning of several of the songs, including "The Lusty Month of May" and most particularly "The Seven Deadly Virtues."

You'll never find a virtue unstatusing my quo

Or making my Beelzebubble burst.

But I digress. Jumping ahead to 2008, it turns out that Live from Lincoln Center is going to treat us all to a concert version of Camelot next week. Maryland Public Television is scheduled to air the program May 8th, but don't forget to double-check.

The Irish actor Gabriel Byrne, better known for Moon for the Misbegotten and The Usual Suspects, is going to be King Arthur, and Guenevere -- Are you ready for this? -- is sung by the versatile Broadway musical star Marin Mazzie.

That leaves a juicy baritone part, Lancelot, which is just the thing for Nathan Gunn. It all sounds promising, particularly the pairing of Mazzie and Gunn, though there's also some downright surreal casting, which I will leave you to dicover at the PBS site.

What he makes of Camelot we'll find out on May 8th, but on Just Before Sunrise, Gunn's voice is warm, dark, utterly assured. In fact, listening to these arrangements, it's difficult to grasp that the man belongs not to the Broadway stage but to opera and concert halls. Listen to his pleasing duet with Kristin Chenoweth, one of the jewels of American musical comedy, and you'll wonder why he isn't singing Billy Bigelow or Curley.

The pop tunes on the album are another surprise. Raise your hand if you love covers of Tom Waits songs (I know I do). Well, "Innocent When You Dream" gets the full romantic treatment here, and it's going to stay with you long after spring's other sweet memories have faded.

DVD: Eight Men Out (20th Anniversary Edition)

I guess spring is finally here, and you know what that means.

Play ball!

Even the pope couldn't stay out of baseball stadiums during his recent visit. Did you notice?

But if your game is rained out -- a very real possibility the last few days, when I swear I saw a man collecting two of each kind of beast -- then it's time to break out the baseball movies.

And yes, we have baseball movies on hand at Olsson's. Boy, do we have baseball movies: Gary Cooper in The Pride of the Yankees (in a new edition), Kevin Costner and the gang in Field of Dreams (sale-priced), even Geena Davis and Tom Hanks in A League of Their Own (ditto).

But being a hopeless John Sayles fan -- or is that hopeful? -- I'm going to nudge the following DVD forward for your consideration: Eight Men Out, the brilliantly watchable adaptation of Eliot Asinof's account of the 1919 "Black Sox" scandal. MGM has just released the 20th anniversary edition, with some wonderful extras, putting me into a fever of anticipation that someone, even as I write this, is preparing special editions of all the John Sayles movies I've loved. Please tell me that pristine prints of Matewan and Lone Star, with "making of" featurettes to go with them, are on their way.

Even if the above-mentioned titles don't ring a bell, it's a safe bet you're familiar with the work of John Sayles, as well as the careers of some of his earliest film industry colleagues. Sayles has been around the block creatively numerous times and is the kind of quintuple threat -- director, writer, editor, actor, and producer -- who leaves the rest of us feeling hopelessly idle. I mean, any man who midwifed the American independent cinema movement and gave actors Chris Cooper and David Strathairn their first film roles (in, respectively, Matewan and The Return of the Secaucus Seven) has more than earned his daily bread.

And Sayles the director/screenwriter definitely gives viewers something to chew on as well. It's not always clear where he's going to take you with a story -- Will it be romance, character study, ensemble comedy, whodunit? -- but he draws you in as deftly as Scheherazade. Pull up a chair, my friend, because you aren't going anywhere.

It's all down to the storytelling, the casting, the loving attention to the details of each film. I'm never sorry when I sign on to watch a Sayles movie, even if I begin the screening with doubts about the theme. As I said, he draws me in every single time.

That's definitely the case with this movie. To borrow an expression from that legendary rye bread advertisement, you don't have to be a baseball fan to love Eight Men Out. This is a vivid, earthy retelling of one of the legendary scandals of the sports world, and neither knowledge of the story's outcome nor today's even more shattering revelations can detract from the suspense.

And Sayles has assembled one sharp cast to tell that story. Fans will recognize some of his usual ensemble players, such as Gordon Clapp, David Strathairn, Maggie Renzi, and Kevin Tighe, but there are some surprises as well. Yes, that really is Bill Irwin as straight arrow Eddie Collins, opposite more down-to-earth teammates Charlie Sheen (Hap Felsch) and John Cusack (Buck Weaver). And in a provocative but effective bit of casting, Sayles teams up with Studs Terkel to form the movie's sportswriting Greek chorus, Ring Lardner and Hugh Fullerton.

But the boys on the baseball diamond, flawed, even tragic, form the heart of the story. Sayles keeps the pace brisk and the action coming, but be warned: He goes right for the heart in several key scenes. Particularly affecting are Cusack, Strathairn, and the great character actor John Mahoney (Kid Gleason).

And once you've seen the story, you're going to want to know more. In that regard, the extras on the disc are winners all round, no question about it. In addition to the director's commentary, which everyone expects on a special edition anyway, there are no fewer than three engrossing documentary features, ranging from a charming little short with D.B. Sweeney (the Joe Jackson of the film) to a featurette on the White Sox players to a two-part documentary about the making of the Sayles movie. The latter includes perspectives from the filmmaker himself; actors Gordon Clapp and David Strathairn; and Maggie Renzi, Sayles's partner in film and in life. And if you have ever needed pointers on directing Studs Terkel or getting David Strathairn to throw a knuckleball, this is the place to look.

It all provides perspective in other respects as well. For one thing, it's impossible to hear Asinof, Sayles, or Strathairn hold forth without gaining an appreciation for the sheer grit, audacity, and resilience required by the creative process. For another, it's unbelievably poignant to see all those stills of the 1919 White Sox players and acknowledge all the lives affected by this story.

In interviews, Sayles has observed that the characters who people his films are not necessarily heroic, that they may turn cowardly or courageous by turns. In my experience, a Sayles film offers a sense of the push-pull of human motivations and choices, and yet counsels against pat judgments. Eight Men Out hints at that moral complexity, and as such remains a timeless story.

DVD: Sir Colin Davis/Royal Opera House Covent Garden Orchestra with Damrau, Keenlyside, and others: Mozart: The Magic Flute (Naxos)




Why does it take me so long to catch up with things? First there was last week's blunder with the Terezin/Theresienstadt CD, which, as I had forgotten, is listed on Byron, Olsson's computer system, as The Theresienstadt Project. Apologies all round to any staff or clientele who met with brick walls when trying to find the disc. Here's a tip: Check under Anne Sophie von Otter in the classical female vocalists' section.

Speaking of female vocalists, it's time to start catching up with all the opera gossip. For starters, why didn't anyone tell me Anna Netrebko was pregnant, or that the German soprano Diana Damrau was pinch-hitting for her in Lucia di Lammermoor at the Metropolitan Opera? I must have skipped the paper that day.

But I didn't forget to turn on WETA FM during its Saturday opera broadcast and fortunately caught a snippet of an interview with said Ms. Damrau, who rather charmingly discussed her repertoire, which by now ranges ranges from damsels in distress to, well, an array of completely unhinged women, of which there are many in opera. Remember EMI's Opera Goes Nuts CD, or a similar anthology disc with a tabloid's take on Tosca?

Getting back to Ms. Damrau, anyone who wants a sense of what she's capable of should check out her portrayal of one angry mother, the Queen of the Night, on the Naxos DVD of Mozart's The Magic Flute. Yes, I know it's all very sexist, but it is fun to see Damrau put those wiles to work, first as a grieving parent and then as a vengeful, power-obsessed fury. Dorothea Roeschmann (Pamina) actually looks shaken when Damrau comes at her with "Der Hoelle Rache kocht in meinem Herzen."

Best of all, you get to experience what an amazing instrument Damrau has in that voice of hers. It's insinuating one minute, authoritative the next. But of course Damrau can pull off delicacy and hostility. After all, both the sweet Pamina and her scary mother are part of her repertoire!

If the Queen of the Night leaves you in need of a little therapy, you can take refuge in Arie di Bravura or Lieder, two of Damrau's recital discs. She can also be heard on an upcoming Metropolitan Opera broadcast, singing more Mozart.

By the way, I would be remiss if I didn't mention a local opportunity to enjoy The Magic Flute: AFI's screening of the wonderful Ingmar Bergman film. Drop in at the Silver Theatre and find out just how much fun you can have at a Bergman movie. Of course it's all in Swedish, both spoken and sung, but of course there are subtitles, which you need with a singspiel anyway. In fact, at the time the movie was made, surtitles at the opera were not yet in vogue, and it was something of a revelation to me, as a teenager, that I'd be attending an opera -- albeit a filmed one -- without having to memorize the plot beforehand. It was nice to catch all of Papageno's quips, too.

Actually, thanks to the AFI screening of Bergman's Magic Flute and Naxos's DVD of the Covent Garden production, opera fans could have something of a Papageno smackdown going here. In the former, the young Hakan Hagegard possesses a pleasing voice, a face the camera loves, and a sense of humor that could light up those long Scandinavian nights. On the other hand, Simon Keenlyside shows a real talent for clowning in the Covent Garden staging. He has a winning blend of physicality and innocence, and of course his singing is marvelous. The man gets bonus points from me for his German, too.

So in the battle of the Brit versus the Swede, I can't make a call. My best advice is to see and hear them both! Besides, every life needs a little more Mozart.

Anne Sofie von Otter, Christian Gerhaher, Bengt Forsberg, and Daniel Hope: Terezin/Theresienstadt

It is rather daunting to approach this new release from Deutsche Grammophon, not because of the material itself -- indeed, it is full of surprises and charm -- but rather because all but two of the composers represented died in the Holocaust.

Most of you are likely familiar with the story of Terezin, or Theresienstadt, where so many Jewish artists were imprisoned in the midst of the Second World War. Among the inmates were such multi-talented figures as the writer Ilse Weber, jazz musician Martin Roman, composer Hans Krasa, and Karel Svenk, an actor, producer, and writer famous for his cabarets.

This disc includes works by all of the aforementioned, plus selections from Pavel Haas, Emmerich (Imre) Kalman, Erwin Schulhoff, Adolf Strauss, Carlo Taube, and Viktor Ullmann. Given that so much of the work of these composers was either lost, suppressed as "degenerate," or created to be heard by their fellow prisoners, it is remarkable that we have this recording before us.

And I do hope it will be noticed and heard by many. It's a good bet that many listeners will be astonished by the variety of moods, languages, and idioms here: a violin sonata from Schulhoff, a lullaby from Weber, an unabashedly romantic love song from Strauss, a parody set to a selection from one of Kalman's operettas, and musical settings of poetry from some surprising sources. Expect challenges. Expect surprises.

And expect a phenomenal array of talent for the project. Mezzo-soprano Anne Sofie von Otter and baritone Christian Gerhaher are joined by their accompanists, Bengt Forsberg and Gerold Huber, respectively, as well as a talented instrumental ensemble. Violinist Daniel Hope appears solo on the final four tracks of the album.

Von Otter in particular is a joy. Her voice remains radiantly youthful yet resolutely grown up, emotionally expressive yet neither maudlin nor arch. She shifts moods deftly, too: nostalgic sweetness for Adolf Strauss's "I weiss bestimmt, ich werd' dich wiedersehn" ("I Know for Certain I Shall See You Again"), exquisite tenderness for Weber's songs. Pianist Bengt Forsberg partners her beautifully, particularly in the latter selections.

Our second vocal soloist, Christian Gerhaher, has a voice of pleasing balance: dark enough to convey gravitas, light enough to let the material soar. That's as it should be, given that he has to move from operetta to art song in the course of this album.

But as the album concludes, both singers give way to Daniel Hope and his interpretation of the 1927 Sonata for Violin Solo by Erwin Schulhoff. This seems fitting, too; perhaps it's to give the composer the last word.

As we approach the Days of Remembrance, let us see these names once more -- Haas, Krasa, Svenk, Weber, and so many others -- let us hear them, let us remember, and above all let us respond.