1. The Tokyo String Quartet has finished their last concert at 92Y tonight, to an appreciative full house. In July, they will retire an extraordinary 44-year career. The Tokyo String Quartet first performed at 92Y in 1977. It became the 92Y quartet-in-residence in 2003. In those years, they played 31 concerts and 101 works by 20 composers to thousands of fans. Tonight we bid farewell to this remarkable ensemble. Together, we thank the Tokyo for the enlightenment, insight and sheer pleasure they have brought into our lives. We look forward to welcoming them back to 92Y as individuals and friends in the years to come. (Photo of the Tokyo String Quarter rehearsing at 92Y for the last time. May 11, 2013.)

    The Tokyo String Quartet has finished their last concert at 92Y tonight, to an appreciative full house. In July, they will retire an extraordinary 44-year career.

    The Tokyo String Quartet first performed at 92Y in 1977. It became the 92Y quartet-in-residence in 2003. In those years, they played 31 concerts and 101 works by 20 composers to thousands of fans. Tonight we bid farewell to this remarkable ensemble. Together, we thank the Tokyo for the enlightenment, insight and sheer pleasure they have brought into our lives. We look forward to welcoming them back to 92Y as individuals and friends in the years to come.

    (Photo of the Tokyo String Quarter rehearsing at 92Y for the last time. May 11, 2013.)

  2. Jennifer Hudson is performing at 92Y’s Spring Gala on May 20 and we want you to come. See her perform, meet her, and have dinner & drinks on us. Enter now for your chance to win.

  3. NPR Music’s “The Mix” crowdsourced a list of the 50 most popular jazz vocal recordings of all time, with Peggy Lee’s “Fever” coming at #10.

    What are some of your favorite songs, jazz and otherwise?

    “Fever” is one of ours, and Miss Peggy Lee herself is the subject of this weekend’s Lyrics & Lyricists™. Give Me Fever opens tonight!

  4. The theme from Paganini’s Caprice No. 24, written between 1805 and 1809, has been used and reused dozens of times by a variety of musicians. Wikipedia lists 43 examples, and not just by the usual suspects (Brahms, Schumann, Rachmaninoff, etc…

    Here it is played by Itzhak Perlman – the theme itself lasts only 15 seconds. Benny Goodman and his orchestra did a swing version. For all you headbangers out there, heavy metal guitarist Yngwie Malmsteen used it in “Prophet of Doom” from his album War to End All Wars (starts at 2:49), heard above. 

    Tomorrow, 92Y presents the New York premiere of the latest version, Variations on a Theme by Paganini, composed and performed by Canadian pianist Marc-André Hamelin in his 92Y recital. (A performance chosen by BBC Music as one of the “very best” live events in North America for January.) 

    While Hamelin won’t say much about these Variations— “writing anything about them would inevitably spoil the fun and give many things away”—he does give this fair warning: “It constantly tries to push the envelope as far as what may be aesthetically acceptable!”

    He reveals all tomorrow, Jan 30 at 7:30 pm along with music by Bach, Debussy, Busoni and Rachmaninoff. 

  5. Tomorrow, January 26, the Tokyo String Quartet gives the U.S. premiere of Lera Auerbach’s String Quartet No. 6, “Farewell,” co-commissioned by 92nd Street Y. Ms. Auerbach, who excels as a composer, author, poet and painter, painted the canvas above, about her work and the Tokyo String Quartet. She also provided the following commentary: When I was young I enjoyed writing program notes for my music—I felt it was a way for me to protect it from possible misunderstanding—one last service that a composer could do for his child before it’s fully on its own. I no longer like writing about my music. What I realize is that you can’t protect your “child” and should just let it be without any attempts to explain or defend it. Sometimes letting go is the hardest thing to do. The music is out there on its own. Whether you like it or not, it’s no longer under your control, and frankly, it never was. Revealing the umbilical chord that still ties you, as a composer, to your work only does your music disservice. Any work of art—a poem, a painting, a symphony, at its best—is much larger than its creator; or at least its co-creator—the one with a pen in hand; the one, who, for better or worse, claims authenticity to its title. Akhmatova wrote, “Who knows, from what dust the poem is born?” (To be more accurate, she used a stronger word—instead of “dust” she wrote, “trash,” or “waste.”) No one knows this, except the Poet. No one should know. Let shadows remain shadows; the dirty dishes should stay in the kitchen and not to spoil the feast. Let music connect directly to the listener regardless of the composer’s own attempts to interpret its essence. Jorge Luis Borges wrote, “A man sets himself in the task of portraying the world. Over the years he fills a given surface with images of provinces and kingdoms, mountains, bays, ships, islands, fish, rooms, instruments, heavenly bodies, horses, and people. Shortly before he dies he discovers that this patient labyrinth of lines is a drawing of his own face. Learn more about the work and the concert.

    Tomorrow, January 26, the Tokyo String Quartet gives the U.S. premiere of Lera Auerbach’s String Quartet No. 6, “Farewell,” co-commissioned by 92nd Street Y.

    Ms. Auerbach, who excels as a composer, author, poet and painter, painted the canvas above, about her work and the Tokyo String Quartet. She also provided the following commentary:

    When I was young I enjoyed writing program notes for my music—I felt it was a way for me to protect it from possible misunderstanding—one last service that a composer could do for his child before it’s fully on its own. I no longer like writing about my music. What I realize is that you can’t protect your “child” and should just let it be without any attempts to explain or defend it. Sometimes letting go is the hardest thing to do. The music is out there on its own. Whether you like it or not, it’s no longer under your control, and frankly, it never was. Revealing the umbilical chord that still ties you, as a composer, to your work only does your music disservice.

    Any work of art—a poem, a painting, a symphony, at its best—is much larger than its creator; or at least its co-creator—the one with a pen in hand; the one, who, for better or worse, claims authenticity to its title. Akhmatova wrote, “Who knows, from what dust the poem is born?” (To be more accurate, she used a stronger word—instead of “dust” she wrote, “trash,” or “waste.”) No one knows this, except the Poet. No one should know. Let shadows remain shadows; the dirty dishes should stay in the kitchen and not to spoil the feast.

    Let music connect directly to the listener regardless of the composer’s own attempts to interpret its essence. Jorge Luis Borges wrote, “A man sets himself in the task of portraying the world. Over the years he fills a given surface with images of provinces and kingdoms, mountains, bays, ships, islands, fish, rooms, instruments, heavenly bodies, horses, and people. Shortly before he dies he discovers that this patient labyrinth of lines is a drawing of his own face.

    Learn more about the work and the concert.